Chapter Sixteen
Angus dismounted his horse in the thickness of Blair Woods, which lay behind Belfaine’s home of Castle Blair, and glanced up toward the stronghold sitting atop a rocky headland that seemed to reach high into the sky. He inched his gaze up along the cliffs that surrounded the other three sides, trying to discern how the devil they’d get into the castle unseen.
“How do ye want to try to gain entry?” Ross asked, coming immediately to Angus’s right as Grant came to stand on Angus’s left.
He studied his two comrades in the daylight. Did he look as bone tired as they did? Dark shadows lay under his brother’s and Grant’s eyes, though Grant’s were harder to see, marred with bruises as he was from the beating he’d taken from the English. His cheekbones were still slightly swollen and discolored, but the man had not uttered one complaint during their relentless travels.
And they had been relentless. Angus had pushed himself—and them, he was certain—perilously close to the edge of collapse. They’d traveled hard in the days since Alex had released them, and they’d crept away from King Edward’s men. They’d stopped only long enough each day to give the horses water and a few minutes to eat and cool, so they could keep up the grueling pace. They’d slept only long enough to physically keep their eyes open when needed. Angus felt the toll now in an uncommon heaviness of his limbs, but as he thought of what needed to be done, determination flowed through his veins and his weariness faded.
Somewhere in that castle hopefully were Allisdair and Lillianna. If they were there, Angus, Grant, and Ross would rescue them. But getting in would be the tricky part. The previous Belfaine laird had been clever building his stronghold here. There was only one path to the castle that was not treacherous, and that path was manned by warriors all the way up the craggy, rocky headland. The other three sides could only be approached by birlinn or skiff, but it would do the person approaching little good for there was no shore to dock. The steep rocks met straight at the bottom with the deep, freezing waters of the sea, and it was a sea that was not calm today.
“Angus?” Ross prodded.
Angus nodded. “I heard ye. I will scale the rocks. There is nae another way.”
“We will scale them,” Ross emphasized.
Angus opened his mouth to protest, but Grant said, “Dunnae think yer brother and I are going to remain here like lasses while ye scale the cliffs and rescue Lillianna and Allisdair, and then have all the bards weave stories about ye.”
“Nay,” Ross said. “I will have a story.”
“As will I,” Grant added.
Angus nodded again, still staring up at the castle. “Thank ye,” he said, serious. “Let us hope we all live to hear the story. Come on, then.” He looked to his brother and Ross, who were both watching him expectantly. “Now that it’s decided, let us make haste. The longer Allisdair and Lillianna remain inside, the more harm they can come to. We’ll climb from the east where the cliff is the shortest distance to the top.” And the water was the deepest should they fall from the cliffs. Of course, the waves could still carry them into the rocks, and they could die by being bashed, but that was a chance he was willing to take to save Lillianna and Allisdair.
An image of Lillianna filled his head. Was she harmed? Did she think he would come for her? He had not gotten the chance to convince her to wed him yet, but surely once he rescued her, the lass would see the need she had for a husband. They would wed, and then she would be safe, and his near-obsessive desire for her would relent. But what if it was more than desire that was driving him to distraction?
As a boom of thunder followed a crack of lightning and rain poured down on them, he shoved the thought away. He had neither the time nor the inclination to examine it. The only thing he had time for now was a rescue. After that, he could sort everything else out.
The weather had turned sour, raining, lightning, and thundering, but Drumlan apparently thought himself immune to the forces of nature. His inflated ego suited her needs perfectly. Escaping on a rainy and shadowy day would be far easier than fleeing on a perfect, cloudless one.
The minute they stepped outside, Lillianna scanned the courtyard for the destriers they were to ride, praying she would have her own. Not only did she not see any horses but she did not see Drumlan’s warriors. She’d overheard a servant saying warriors had accompanied Drumlan here. They were alone in the courtyard besides Allisdair, who was to Lillianna’s left. Both of them were now weaponless, so she supposed Drumlan, who was much larger than her or Allisdair, and who held a sword in his hand, was unconcerned about being alone with them.
“Where are the horses and your men?” she asked.
Drumlan did not answer her. He waved them forward past the courtyard gates. She hesitated for a moment. He cocked his eyebrows at her and pointed his sword toward Allisdair. “Do ye wish me to gut this lad because ye are being uncooperative?”
She shook her head. She exchanged a quick look with Allisdair, who for all his earlier bravado now looked frightened and fatigued, and she gave him a smile as she hastened her pace to match Drumlan. To her surprise, he strode almost to the edge of the steep cliff that faced the east.
Unease started at the base of her spine and crawled up it, making her shiver. The driving rain pelted her, soaking her hair, stinging her skin, and forcing her to squint to protect her eyes. “What are we doing?” she asked, dread swirling in her belly faster than the gooseflesh covering her body.
Drumlan reached inside the neck of his tunic, and she could see a leather strap secured about his neck. She knew what it was before he even began to pull the strap out. Of course he would not want to ever part with the brooch. The dread within her became a pulsing thing that thudded in her ears and stole her breath. Her fingernails curled into the palms of her hands cutting the tender flesh so that she hissed in a surprised breath and forced her hands to relax.
He gave her a hard, cold-eyed smile as he tugged the leather strap over his neck and brought her mother’s brooch between them. “I’ve worn this for so many years that I’ve lost count. Do you know what this is?” he asked, the brooch dangling from his fingertips as lightning once again illuminated the sky.
Black fright seized her and took her ability to speak for a moment. She swallowed, trembling all over, and beside her, she could feel Allisdair trembling, as well. The boy reached for her hand, and she gripped his cold, wet fingers. “No,” she lied, having to raise her voice to be heard over the rain.
Drumlan scowled at her. “The pitch of yer voice changes when ye lie. I’ll ask ye again,” he said, swiping his hand across his face, “if ye know what this is. But before ye answer, remember that the boy’s life is in yer hands.”
Allisdair’s fingers curled tighter around hers. She had known the only reason Drumlan had wanted Allisdair to come with them was to use him in some way. She hated that she had been right. She inhaled a long, shaky breath, the rain pelting her ever harder. “It’s my mother’s brooch. You lied to her, you betrayed her, and you stole that brooch from her.”
“Technically, I was trying to grasp her and nae the brooch as she ran from me,” he said, his tone ruthless. “My fingers caught the leather strap, it broke, and yer mother escaped. I was certain I would catch her, so I did nae rush. She’d shot me, ye see. Did ye ken that?”
Lillianna shook her head, a clump of her wet hair sliding over her forehead to dangle in her eyes. She shoved it back. “No, she didn’t tell me all the details.” She wished her mother had killed him, but saying that now would be beyond foolish.
“She aimed for my heart with my bow,” Drumlan spat. “Fortunately, she was a bad shot. She accused me of nae truly loving her because I demanded she tell me my future. She was selfish,” he growled.
Allisdair squeezed her so hard that her fingers hurt, but she gave him a squeeze back to try to reassure him.
“I had to betray her,” Drumlan continued. “She forced my hand. I wanted to love her.” His eyes narrowed, water dripping off his lashes. “But I needed her to prove she was worthy. I needed her to tell me if I would best her father if I stormed his castle.” Lillianna held her silence. He was trying to wash away the guilt of what he’d done to her mother, and she refused to aid him. He stepped closer, his gaze clinging to her. “I could hardly believe it when I saw ye.”
A ring of white puffed from his mouth, showing the temperature was quickly dropping. Lillianna simply glared at him. She refused to engage in useless chitchat with this man.
He scratched at his soaked beard and looked contemplative. “I did nae have a notion yer mother had born a child, nae that it would have done me much good. I sent mercenaries to try to take her from yer father several times after she first escaped me, but they failed. Fools. I couldn’t go myself and risk yer father discovering I had the brooch.”
“Of course not,” Lillianna bit out.
“And then everyone said yer father killed her not long after he wed her. The whispers were because he loved a servant whom bore him ye. Imagine my shock when several weeks ago I heard someone say Brice de Burgh’s daughter was nae a bastard but the product of his union with his dead wife.”
“My father hid my mother away,” Lillianna said, watching Drumlan. “He hid her because she would not tell him where her brooch was and he did not want anyone who might have the brooch to ever get their hands on her. She lived for years after she fled you—in isolation with no one but the servants of the castle.”
“I could have stolen her back,” Drumlan said, showing he was as horrid as her mother had said. Lillianna clenched her jaw on the need to scream. “I was trying to discern how I could get my hands on ye, and now here ye are.” He leaned a bit closer and whispered, “I have a secret to share with ye. I think I should be Lord of the Isles, and ye are going to look at my future and tell me if I will I will become the leader of the isles if I betray Belfaine.” He paused and gave a vicious smile. “I think I’m the one Fate is smiling upon, do ye nae agree?”
Allisdair tensed beside her. “As I said to Belfaine, I think Fate is fickle,” Lillianna growled.
“Well, I will soon know what Fate has in store for me,” Drumlan said, chortling. “Tell me, does any man hold yer heart?”
She thought immediately of Angus. Did he hold her heart? A piece of it certainly, but all of it? She didn’t know, and it was none of Drumlan’s affair. “No,” she replied through cold, stiff lips, “but plenty hold my hatred.”
He thrust the brooch at her. “It dunnae matter. Put this on.”
She was so sickened by him that she could not make herself take the brooch.
He frowned with cold fury. “From this day forward, ye will tell me what I wish to ken.”
“I’ll not,” she replied, finding her voice as the wind picked up and the smell of salt filled her nose. She stole a quick glance behind her at the steep drop to the sea below. Waves crashed against rock, and her thoughts raced wildly. There was only one possible way to escape Drumlan, and that was to jump into the sea and risk her life. She’d do it in an instant, because she refused to be held prisoner by this man and forced to read his future and help him destroy people with the knowledge she provided. But she could not leave Allisdair, and she would not risk him.
Unless… She blinked the rain out of her eyes and looked at the brooch her mother had worn, and her mother before her, and her mother before her, all the way back to the original fairy who had first given it to the MacLeod laird. It was gold, formed by two almost perfect half circles that surrounded a large, dark stone that symbolized present and future meeting. If she put on the brooch and touched Allisdair, she would try to see if he would survive them plunging into the sea. She would know if he had a future. And if he did… Her heart thumped madly as she tried to decide what to do.
“Put it on, or I will kill the lad,” Drumlan snarled. “I ken ye fear for him. I see it on yer face.”
Without another thought, she snatched the brooch from him and slipped the leather band over her head. The cold gold circle settled between her breasts atop the soaked material of her gown. Bright light flashed before her eyes, and her body tingled all over. Then, as before, the images of her mother and her ancestors filled her mind, but her mother’s voice did not come. Lillianna curled her hand tighter around Allisdair’s, and suddenly Drumlan disappeared. It was as if the world around her had parted to reveal a picture of the future and he was no longer in it. Allisdair was plunging through the air and down through the darkness. She felt his terror, and she cried out as he was swooped up into a crashing wave and nearly bashed against the rocks. But someone grabbed him at the last moment, saving him. The images flashed so fast, she could not keep up until one stilled. Allisdair was kneeling before Elizabeth and Lord Bruce. He was no longer a boy but a young man.
Lillianna cried out in joy at the sight of Elizabeth and Bruce with crowns upon their heads. Bruce lifted his sword and tapped Allisdair on both shoulders, and Lillianna recognized immediately that Allisdair was being knighted. Then the picture disappeared, replaced by another. This time Allisdair was talking animatedly, relaying a story and waving his hands at something or someone as he did.
She gasped, the air feeling as if it were being sucked from her lungs. She released her hold on him as she turned to him. “Will you trust me?” she whispered, ignoring Drumlan for a moment.
Allisdair looked from the hand she had been holding to her face. Had he felt it? Had he felt the power coursing through her? “Aye,” he croaked.
“Did ye see his future?” Drumlan asked, his excitement easily discernible in his voice.
She grasped Allisdair’s hand once more and stepped back toward the dangerous ledge. His eyes grew wide with fright, but he moved with her. Her heel hung half off the cliff. Her stomach hollowed, and her heart raced. She had seen Allisdair’s future. He would live. The unanswered question was, would she?
“Answer me,” Drumlan roared. “Did yer seer powers awaken when ye put the brooch on as they are supposed to? Did ye see the lad’s future? Touch me and tell me of mine!”
Her breath seemed to solidify in her throat, but she kept her gaze on Allisdair. “I did see your future, Allisdair, and you will live. So jump!”
Angus reached the bottom of the cliffs where they’d begin their climb. He looked up to search for the best path and he blinked in disbelief at what he saw. High above, near the ledge that overhung to the water below, stood his brother and Lillianna. Joy at confirmation that they were still alive filled him, but then as they seemed to move closer to the edge of the cliff and the storm raged above them, illuminating them, fear gripped him.
“Watch out for the ledge!” he called out uselessly.
And then unbelievably they stepped backward as if there were something there to catch them besides the never-ending blackness. His heart stopped, and his breath ceased. Their bodies dropped at a dizzying pace in an unstoppable fall toward death, one they had purposely taken. Every muscle he possessed clenched, and the desire to look away consumed him, but he just stared, unable to move, unable to make a sound.
Ross cried out, and Angus jerked, feeling the impact of unforgiving water to his own body as they hit the ocean water and disappeared. A thousand pricks tingled his skin as grief tore through him. For one breath, he was frozen in limbo, drowning in sorrow. All decisions, all actions were impossible as he tried to process the unbelievable, and then rage, hot and consuming, broke through his fear, sweeping the gooseflesh away and searing him with urgency. They could be saved. He had to save them. His heart exploded as he turned on the sliver of ledge upon which he stood and dove into the violent ocean.
Immediately, the icy water stole his breath, the waves sucked him up, tumbled him over, and pulled him farther underwater, knocking him into something—no, someone. His pulse exploded as he reached out a hand and grasped flesh. A hand grasped back at his, and he took it, his heart twisting with hope as fine-boned fingers twined with his. Lillianna. He was certain he had her. Now where was Allisdair?
Specks of bright light danced in his vision, warning him of the need for air. He kicked his legs and used his free arm to try to pull them upward, but he needed both hands to reach the surface in the waves. He slid Lillianna’s hand to his waist, and it was as if she read his mind and knew his thoughts. Immediately, her arm wrapped around him, and he started to swim them up as he kicked. He could feel her kicking beside him, and when they broke the surface, with a fresh wave about to crash down on them, he roared, “Swim for the rock ledge,” before they were tugged under once more.
They were thrown together, and he feared the force of the impact would injure her, but she grasped him by the hand and started to tug him. Together, they breached the surface again, and it was Lillianna who gasped, “To the right! Allisdair is to our right!”
Angus plunged underneath the waves with her and swam toward the right as she had said. When a surge of waves overhead shoved them hard in that direction and broke their grip on one another, he slammed into his brother. Frantic hands grasped his face and neck. Allisdair was panicked. He clawed at Angus, and so Angus drove his right elbow up into his brother’s face. Allisdair instantly went slack, and Angus began to swim upward, clutching Allisdair’s left arm. It wasn’t until he burst through the surface that he realized Lillianna was on Allisdair’s other side aiding him.
Waves tossed them and sucked them under several more times before they managed to get close enough to the rock ledge that Ross could reach them. Ross threw the end of his plaid out to Angus, but in order to grab the plaid, he had to release his hold on his brother. “Lillianna,” he shouted above the deafening crash and hum of the waves.
“I have him,” she yelled, and then her hand clutched Angus’s side. “And you,” she yelled, her grip on his waist increasing.
He grasped the plaid and pulled them close enough that Ross could touch him, and then Angus grabbed Lillianna’s arm and tugged her forward. Allisdair moaned, and Lillianna shouted to Ross, “Take Allisdair first. If he panics again…”
Ross nodded as Grant dropped to the rock ledge beside him and took Allisdair by the arm that Lillianna managed to hold up, and then Grant hauled Allisdair out of the water. But just as he did, Lillianna was sucked back into the sea. Angus released his hold on the plaid and plunged under the water after her. For one moment, icy fear twisted around his heart, but then her hair brushed his foot and he reached downward, grazing her head and then her shoulder. He clutched her as she clasped him, and then they locked hands and kicked to the surface. As they did, her grip on him intensified and she cried out.
Once again, he clasped the plaid that Ross held out as Grant helped Lillianna to the rock ledge. A breath later, he was climbing the rocks as waves battered him and knocked him into the sharp edges. Ross hurriedly helped him to the safety of the ledge. There was no time to waste. He sucked in a deep breath, and they sprinted toward the bank where Lillianna, Grant, and Allisdair were waiting. He waved at them as he and Ross ran. “Head to the horses!”
Grant gave a nod and started up the path to lead Lillianna and Allisdair, but soon, Angus and Ross were behind them, urging them faster. Whoever they had jumped to escape would be coming for them and quickly. Torrential rain continued to fall as they ran, but in the distance, torches blazed one by one along the path that led to the castle, and dread enveloped him.
“They light the path for the warriors to ride out,” Grant yelled.
Angus nodded. “Let us abandon the horses and try to run.”
“Nay!” Grant argued. “Let us try to get to the horses.
He opened his mouth to tell Grant no when Lillianna suddenly clutched his forearms. Her body went rigid before him, her nails dug into his skin, and her lips parted on a moan.
“Lillianna!” he cried out, moving to release her grip from his forearms. The strength of her hold on him shocked him. She moaned again, and he tugged her closer, seeing that her green gaze had turned golden. “Something’s wrong!” he shouted to the others, more fearful in this moment than he’d ever been in his life.
“Nay!” Allisdair shouted. “She’s all right.”
His blood rushed in his ears as he started to pry her fingers off his arms so he could sweep her off her feet and carry her. The second he released her right hand, she blinked and her gaze cleared. “Go to the horses,” she said, her voice eerily calm and certain. “We will reach the horses before they reach us. That’s how we will survive. We must get the destriers.”
Confusion blanketed Angus’s mind. “How the devil can ye possibly—” The horn that called the warriors to arms blew ominously through the night. Angus’s eyes locked with hers. Torment and sorrow seemed etched on her face.
“She’s seen it!” Allisdair blurted. “She had a vision. She’s wearing a special brooch!”
Angus stared at her in shock, his eyes drawn to the brooch nestled between her breasts. Slowly, he reached out to touch it, and he grasped the brooch between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it as close as he could with it still hooked around her neck. She inhaled sharply but did not stop him. The middle of the brooch seemed to swirl, and he blinked the rain from his eyes, sure he was not seeing correctly. But when he looked again, it still swirled.
“God’s teeth,” he muttered. Disbelief collided with the reality of what he had just seen happen to her and of the brooch he had just touched. The legend surrounding her was true. He sucked in a breath, released the brooch, and stepped back from her.
“That’s why ye jumped off the cliff,” he heard himself say, his mind refuting what his eyes told him was true.
She bit her lip but nodded slowly, reluctantly, as if she did not want to admit it any more than he wanted to believe it. “We must go now,” she said, confident.
Angus hesitated a moment before nodding, and then, as if in silent agreement, they all turned and ran. The thundering of horses’ hooves vibrated under his feet as the Belfaine warriors rode down the path. When Angus and the others reached the destriers they’d left tethered in the woods, he swung Lillianna onto his horse as Ross and Allisdair mounted Ross’s and Grant mounted his. Angus straddled the beast and slid one arm protectively around Lillianna’s waist. She went rigid under his touch. Was she getting a vision of his future? He recalled her moan and feared the visions might hurt her. “Do they hurt ye?”
“Not so very much,” she said, her words stiff. Except how much was not so very much?
“Are ye having another vision?” he asked.
She nodded. “It is the same as before, so if you are looking for me to tell you more of your future, don’t bother,” she growled.
He blew out a frustrated breath, understanding dawning. Lillianna’s wish not to marry suddenly made sense. The small details she had revealed about her mother and father’s union made it clear it was not a happy one. He also thought he recalled hearing a story long ago of her mother escaping Drumlan. Had the man tried to use her for her powers? Had he betrayed her? Likely so. No doubt, Lillianna’s reason for not wishing to marry had a great deal to do with not trusting men, especially men who knew of her powers. And he was now one of those men. Her life had been filled with men who had attempted to control her and use her. He was certain of it.
They’d have to discuss it later—after they escaped.
“Belfaine and Drumlan plan to attack yer castle,” Lillianna blurted, surprising him once more. “Or they did. I’m uncertain if they will stick to the plan, given that both men know I heard it. Belfaine wishes to be Lord of the Isles and needs yer castle, but Drumlan, unbeknownst to Belfaine, also wishes to be Lord of the Isles. So—” she looked momentarily contemplative “—I cannot say if he will still join forces with Belfaine or not.”
“Did ye see any of this?” Angus asked.
“No,” she snapped. “They spoke of it in front of me.”
He nodded. “Thank ye,” he said, forcing himself to resist the urge to press a kiss to the exposed slender column of her neck. He knew she had her guard well up against him now, and he did not blame her. He understood it, probably better than most men could, given the betrayal of his past. He felt the men would still come, and together unless Drumlan could get to Lillianna first. Then he might betray Belfaine, or wait and betray him after they defeated Angus. They were stronger together.
Focusing on the need to flee, he thought about which way to take to his home. His stronghold was only a half day’s ride from Castle Blair, yet Belfaine would be expecting Allisdair and Lillianna to head there. They could circle around and take a longer route. “We’ll head west and circle home.”
“That’ll take too long,” Ross objected. “What if Belfaine reaches the castle before we do?”
“Circle around,” Lillianna said, turning to look at Angus. “I saw you riding on that path and arriving at Castle Balmont with Grant and your brothers.”
Angus frowned. “What of yerself?”
She turned away from him and shrugged. “I did not see myself in the vision.”
He didn’t need her to see a vision of her future for him to know that her future was with him. And he’d tell her as soon as there was time to convince her and make her see that it had nothing to do with her newfound powers and everything to do with the fact that he could not imagine his life without her. There was no point denying that truth any longer: he cared for the lass. Like it or not, he was entangled with her, but he would damn well control it and he didn’t need to see the future to know that.