The Sinner (25 page)

D
amn, where are they?” Alex said, as he scanned another empty bay. After finding the MacNeils safe and sound behind their castle walls, they had sailed into every inlet and loch on Barra.

“We’ve been led on a merry chase.” Duncan slammed his fist against the rail. “I’d wager Hugh put the word out that he intended to raid Barra to divert us from his true plan.”

“And he succeeded,” Connor said with his gaze fixed on the horizon. Someone who did not know him well would not guess from his calm exterior that the chieftain was as angry as Duncan. “We have little chance of finding Hugh until he strikes again. He and his men could be hiding in any of a thousand inlets in the Western Isles.”

“They could have gone to North Uist.” Alex’s heart started pounding as the thought struck him. “While we sailed south, along the west side of the islands, Hugh and his men could have sailed north on the east side.”

“Alex, they could be anywhere,” Connor said.

“Hugh has gone to attack my home.” The certainty of it settled over Alex like a cold, heavy fog. “We must go back at once.”

Connor did not look convinced, but he signaled to the men to turn the ships north.

“It does make sense that Hugh would attack Dunfaileag Castle,” Ian said. “It would be his way of thumbing his nose at ye, Connor. Your uncle knows ye have too many loyal men at Dunscaith now for him to take it, so instead he lures ye to the outer isles. And then, while he has us looking the other way, he takes the one castle we hold here.”

Hugh would enjoy making Connor look the fool by raiding Dunfaileag Castle while Connor—and his castle keeper—were close by with two war galleys full of men.

“I left my wife and daughter unprotected,” Alex said as he stared north at the endless sea.

He had feared all the wrong things: that he would not know how to keep Glynis happy, that he would hurt her, that she would steal his heart. All those things had come to pass, but they were nothing to this. In his vanity, it had never occurred to him that he would fail to protect his wife and daughter. That was the one duty a man had above all others.

Duncan came to stand beside him at the rail and rested a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Even if Hugh has gone to Dunfaileag, he doesn’t have enough men to take the castle.”
 

From the corner of her eye, Glynis saw her dirk on the bed, where she must have set it when she went to open the chest. When Magnus took a step toward her, she lunged and grabbed it. Then she jumped back, holding it in front of her with both hands.

“Stay away from me, Magnus,” Glynis said. “I’ve knifed ye once, so ye know I have the nerve to do it.”

“I was dead drunk at the time—and fool enough not to expect my own wife to take a blade to me,” Magnus said. “I’m neither now. Put the blade down before ye get hurt.”

If it were not for Sorcha, she would have fought him anyway, as hopeless as that would be. But Glynis did not want her daughter to hear her being hurt.

“I’ll put it down,” she said, “as soon as ye tell me why ye are here and what ye plan to do with me.”

“Ye belong to me,” he said. “I’m taking ye away from your false husband.”

“But why? Ye never liked me.”

“What has that to do with it?” Magnus said, his face turning an ugly red. “Ye are my wife, and ye don’t leave unless I say so.”

She had been desperate at the time, but Glynis could see now that she should have found a quieter way to leave him. Cutting Magnus with a blade and stealing a boat was as foolish as poking a mad bull with a stick.

“Alex will find me and bring me back,” she said, trying to keep up her courage.

“No one has found us yet,” Magnus said with a sneer. “Our camp is hidden away behind an island on Loch Eyenort on South Uist.”

“Leave me here.” Though she knew pleading never worked with Magnus, she could not help herself. “Ye don’t want me for your wife. Ye never did.”

“Aye, I don’t want ye—you’re too dirty for me now,” he said. “But I will enjoy watching the other men share ye.”

Magnus would do it, too. He hated her that much.

“Put down the dirk, or you’ll die in this room,” Magnus said. “Make your choice quickly, for I’m sorely tempted by the notion of Alex MacDonald finding ye dead in a pool of blood on his bedchamber floor.”

Alex finding her would be bad enough, but it would be Sorcha who saw her body first. Glynis let her dagger clatter to the floor.

“Ye weren’t quick enough.” Magnus took two long strides toward her and put his boot on her dropped blade. “I saw how Alex MacDonald looked at ye—at
my
wife—and I want him to come home to find his bed soaked with your blood.”

The venom in Magnus’s black eyes made Glynis’s heart freeze in her chest.

“He might not recognize ye at first,” Magnus said, fingering the blade in his hand. “But eventually, he’ll know ye by the ring on your finger or a lock of your hair. And then he’ll spend the rest of his nights imagining how your screams filled his bedchamber.”

A
lex stared at the outline of Dunfaileag Castle in the distance. A thin reed of smoke rose from behind its walls. He tried to tell himself that there could be a dozen causes of fire in a castle—a turned lamp in the stable, a grease fire in the kitchen—all of them easily controlled and put out. And there were no ships in sight. Surely that was a good sign.

But as they sailed closer, he saw the broken boards of the gate. The pirates had been here and gone.

Duncan pushed the man at the rudder aside and guided their galley in with his sure hand, while Ian and Connor stood on either side of Alex without saying a word. And still, it seemed to take half his lifetime to sail the remaining distance to shore.

“Look,” Ian said, pointing. “There are women on the beach.”

Alex’s knees felt wobbly with relief. Tormond must have had time to send the women to hide in the hills. Slowly, Alex let his breath out.

Before the boat scraped the bottom, he was over the side and running to shore. The women surrounded him. None seemed hurt, but they were all talking at once. “Pirates! Pirates were here!”

Neither Glynis nor Sorcha were with the women, so they must be up at the castle. Several of his men were coming down the rock steps. Tormond, who was in the lead, was limping and had a long gash down the side of his face and a bloody sleeve.

“Ye did well to get the women out,” Alex greeted him. “Did we lose many men?”

“We fought as long as we could, but it was clear we couldn’t hold the castle,” Tormond said. “Once I thought the women were well away, I surrendered in the hope of saving as many men as I could.”

“Ye did right.” Alex started up the steps. He was anxious to see with his own eyes that his wife and daughter were safe.

Tormond followed behind him. “The pirates locked us in one of the storage rooms along the wall while they looted the castle.”

Alex reached the top and saw the smashed gate. Getting oak boards to replace it would take a long time, but there were worse things. He stepped through the gaping hole into the castle yard.

“How many attackers were there?” Alex asked, but he was wondering why Glynis and Sorcha were not running out to meet him.

“There were three ships, each full of men.”

“Three?” Alex asked, turning back to Tormond. “Who were they?”

“Two belonged to Hugh Dubh and his brothers,” Tormond said. “The third was Magnus Clanranald’s.”

Magnus’s?
Alex felt as if the ground were sinking under him.

“Where is Glynis?” When Tormond did not answer right away, Alex grabbed him by his torn shirt and shook him. “Where is my wife?”

“We’ve searched everywhere.” Tormond could not meet Alex’s eyes. “But we couldn’t find her—or your daughter.”

Glynis’s spirits sank lower the farther they sailed into Loch Eyenort. God protect her, for it could be weeks before Alex found her. Loch Eyenort had so many bays and islands that even if Alex came here on his search, he could easily miss her.

Glynis rubbed the blood on her forehead with her sleeve. At least she was not on the same boat as Magnus.

“If ye leave that cut alone, it might stop bleeding.”

Glynis looked up to find Hugh Dubh standing over her. Though Hugh’s weathered face made him look older than his thirty-odd years, he had the powerful build of a man in his prime.

“If ye are worried I might die on ye,” Glynis snapped, “then ye should give me something to bind this wound.”

All she’d suffered was a nick—and a long moment of terror in which she believed she would die at Magnus’s hands. Hugh had pulled Magnus off of her just in time. In the argument that ensued between the two men, Hugh had taken the position that a live hostage was of greater value than a dead one.

“Ye could show a wee bit of appreciation after I saved your life,” Hugh said, giving her what he must have believed was a charming smile.

“Ye didn’t do it for me,” she said. “Ye did it for the gold my husband and father will give ye for my return.”

“I’ll be getting more than gold for ye, lass,” Hugh said, as he leaned back against the rail and folded his arms across his broad chest.

Hugh was baiting her. Glynis knew it, and yet she had to ask. “What else?”

“I want vengeance, just as Magnus does,” Hugh said. “But Magnus is a simple man, sorely lacking in patience. Unlike him, I’ll enjoy the game, get my revenge on my nephew, and end up with the gold as well.”

Hugh was vain. If she could prick his pride, he might tell her what this game was.

“Ye believe ye can get the better of Connor?” Glynis asked. “They say he is verra clever.”

“He is that, but Connor also has a great weakness.” Hugh nodded to himself as he looked off into the distance. “Connor would give his life without hesitation for any one of those three—Alex, Ian, or Duncan.”

That was true of each of the four men. Glynis wondered how Hugh intended to use Connor’s loyalty against him.

“Everyone in the isles knew of Alex’s vow never to wed,” Hugh said. “So when I heard he’d taken a bride, I knew it could only be because Alex had found a woman he simply had to have or die.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Glynis said, giving him a sideways glance. “Alex needed a mother for his daughter, and I was close at hand.”

Hugh barked out a laugh. “‘Tis usually men who are the fools.”

Glynis had been a fool, but she wasn’t admitting it to Hugh. “The opinion of a thieving pirate means less than nothing to me.”

“Alex must like a sharp tongue.” Hugh was drumming his fingers on the rail, jarring her nerves. “I believe he’ll do anything to get ye back. And my nephew Connor would do anything for Alex.”

“Connor is a good man,” Glynis said. “I don’t see how the two of ye can share the same blood.”

“I confess I find it surprising myself,” Hugh said, scratching his beard. “Loyalty is a flaw in a Highland chief—and it will cost Connor his life.”

Glynis turned to face Hugh. “His life?”

“Aye.” Hugh had the golden eyes of a wolf. “And you, lass, are the bait in my trap. The four of them will come together for ye, and I’ll be waiting.”

Hugh had planned it all along. He had lured Connor and the others to the outer isles for the very purpose of trapping them.

“This is the perfect place.” Hugh pointed to a small island in the loch as they sailed into the narrow channel between it and the shore. “I’ll have half my men hidden on the island, there, across from my camp. We’ll have two chains below the water between the island and the shore that we’ll pull up to trap their boat in the middle so they can’t escape.”

“They’re keen warriors—they’ll sense trouble,” she said, hoping it was true.

“They’ll sail right into the trap when they see ye tied to a log on the beach, half naked,” Hugh said, smiling to himself. “Ach, that’s sure to drive Alex blind with rage.”

“You’ve wasted your time. Alex won’t come for me,” she said, trying her best to keep her voice steady. “Ye know his reputation. He’s tired of me already.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll be so disappointed that I’ll give ye to Magnus—after my brothers have a turn.” Hugh laughed. “But then, I’d planned to do that in the end anyway.”

The words were important. In the blackness, Sorcha practiced them over and over in her head so she would not forget them. Then she whispered them, testing the sounds with her mouth.

She had almost forgotten the dark, dirty room with the big mice where her father found her. But the memory came back to her in this small, dark place and threatened to push the words out of her head again. She breathed in the smell of her mother in the clothes that surrounded her.

She heard voices, but they were not her father’s, so she covered her ears and mouthed the words until the voices went away. Still, the pounding of her heart made it hard to hear the words.

But she would be strong like the warrior queen, Scáthach.

She would be strong like her mother.

Y
our wife was taking the women out the back gate,” Tormond said. “I thought she was safe with the others.”

“Glynis is probably still hiding in the fields,” Ian said.

Tormond shook his head. “The woman Bessie said that Sorcha disappeared, and the mistress went back into the castle to find her.”

Nay. It can’t be that I’ve lost them both.
As Alex’s gaze traveled over the bailey yard, he saw dead and injured men—but no women or children. He tried to think. Where could they be?

“We searched everywhere,” Tormond said.

“Then look again!” Alex ran to open storeroom doors along the wall. He found sacks of grain torn open, and the wine and ale barrels were all gone.

“Glynis! Sorcha!” he called again and again as he searched. He could not let himself consider that he might be looking for their bodies.

Mary, Mother of God, protect them.
He made promises to God as he searched for them.
Take me—just keep them safe.

Alex’s hands shook as he entered the keep. The weapons on the walls were gone. Tables were overturned. The hall was eerily quiet, except for the crockery crunching under his feet.

“Glynis! Sorcha!” The answering silence closed in on him.

His boots echoed on the stone steps as he climbed the stairs to the bedchambers above. Would he find them dead? His wife’s body, broken and used by the foul men who had destroyed their home? Alex did not think he was strong enough for that, but he kept walking.

When he pushed their bedchamber door, it creaked open slowly, revealing the room inch by inch. In contrast to the rest of the keep, the bedchamber was neat and tidy. It looked as if Glynis had just stepped out.

Except for her dirk lying in the middle of the floor.

Alex sank to his knees and picked it up. There was no blood on it, praise God. But if Glynis and Sorcha were not here, that meant the pirates and Magnus had taken them—and their purpose could only be evil. Alex had to find his wife and daughter before they were harmed, but he did not know where to look.

Alex pounded the floor with his fists. “Where did they take ye?” he shouted. “Where? Where?”

A
creak
right next to him brought him upright. When he saw his wee daughter standing in the chest holding the top up, Alex swept her up into his arms. He ran his hands over her to assure himself the fairies were not playing tricks on his eyes, and then he held her tightly against him.
Sweet Jesus and all the angels, thank ye.

Alex thought he heard a small voice in his ear, saying, “Aye.”

He leaned back. “Was that you, Sorcha?”

She looked at him with her clear eyes and nodded. In the midst of a day of dread and despair, the miracle of hearing his daughter’s sweet voice for the first time overwhelmed him.

“What was that ye said,
mo chroí
?” Alex asked, as he brushed her hair back with his fingers.

“Eye.” He had thought she was saying
aye
before, but this time when she said the word she rested the point of her finger next to her eye.

“Did something happen to your eye?” he asked.

“That’s where the bad man took Mother.”

His daughter spoke in perfect Gaelic, but Alex had no idea what she meant.

“Eye snort,” Sorcha said. “That’s where the bad man said he was taking her.”

Eye snort?
What in the name of heaven was…

“Eyenort Loch?” he asked. “On South Uist?”

“South Uist,” Sorcha repeated, and nodded.

Alex gave her a big kiss on her forehead. “What a blessing ye are.”

“Mother called him Magnus,” Sorcha said. “She doesn’t like him.”

“That’s verra helpful, little one,” Alex said, keeping his voice calm with an effort. “Do ye remember anything else?”

“Another bad man came, and they argued.”

“Did ye hear the second man’s name?”

Sorcha gave him a solemn nod. “Hugh.”

“Ye did verra, verra well,” Alex said as he started down the stairs with her. “Now I must leave ye with Bessie while I go fetch your mother.”

“Bring her home,” Sorcha said, hugging his neck.

“I will.”

Alex had just had one miracle. And now he needed another.