Chapter Eight

 

Warton put a hand on Colin's shoulder. "'Tis a trap. They want us to hasten into the firelight so they can ambush us."

"Damnation," Colin hissed, trying to keep his wits about him. Was Kristina alive? He couldn't detect any movement.

Cyrus was directing his men, almost silently, to circle around behind the camp. Damn Holme and his cronies. Colin wanted to dirk every last one of them for what they'd done to Kristina.

Despite the sickening need for vengeance that near drowned him, Colin prayed Kristina still lived. Why was she unmoving and in such an awkward position?

A man's shout echoed from somewhere beyond the camp, toward the right. Was that one of Cyrus's men or an enemy? After a moment of silence, horses' hooves pounded the ground in hasty retreat.

"Go after them!" Cyrus yelled.

Several of his men raced away.

Looking about him, targe raised, Colin ran toward Kristina beside the campfire and dropped to his knees.

"Kristina?" Almost holding his breath, he turned her onto her back and placed his fingertips beneath her nose. Her warm breath tickled his skin. "Thank God." Relief rushed through his veins, near making him weak.

The firelight illuminated a large, reddish-violet spot on her cheek but no blood. Had Holme hit her? "Kristina, wake up." He smoothed his fingers gently over her forehead and hair, but she didn't respond. Anxiety clawed at his gut.

Rusty stopped beside him, breathing hard. "Is she all right?"

"She's knocked out. Do you have any water?" Colin asked.

"Aye." Rusty unhooked the wineskin from his belt and handed it over. Colin splashed the water onto Kristina's face. She frowned and moved her head a tiny bit, giving him a jolt of hope.

"Kristina?"

"What?" she whispered, her voice scratchy.

"'Tis me—Colin." He carefully dried the water from her face with his sleeve.

"Colin, you're… alive… thank God." Tears glistened at the corners of her eyes. "Careful… Holme."

"He's gone. He ran away."

She seemed to release a breath and relax a bit.

"Are you in a lot of pain, my sweet?" Colin smoothed her hair back gently.

"My head." She touched her swollen, violet cheek.

"Did Holme hit you?"

"Aye."

Rage punched at Colin. "Did he hurt you anywhere else?"

"I don't… think so."

His stomach knotting, Colin prayed the blackguard hadn't forced himself on her. He would ask her when she felt better. For now, it might be too much, or she might not remember.

"Are you thirsty?" he asked.

"Aye."

"Would Holme give you naught to drink?"

"Nay. I didn't trust him to give me clean water, anyway."

"The bastard," Colin grated as he helped Kristina lean up and drink water from the wineskin.

"She could lay her head on this." Fraser brought a rolled-up doublet. Obviously his own, since he now wore only a shirt and plaid.

"'Tis very kind of you." Colin helped her place her head on the makeshift pillow. "Is that better?"

"Aye, I thank all of you."

"My pleasure." Fraser went with Rusty to the perimeter of the campsite where several men stood guard.

"Why did Holme hit you and how? With his fist?" Colin needed to know every detail of what happened to her, even though 'twas torturous to hear.

"Aye, he did, because… I stabbed him."

Colin felt his eyes widen. "Indeed, lass? You stabbed him?"

"Aye."

"Saints!" he hissed. "I'm proud of you."

"I stopped him from… you know."

His rage renewed, Colin leaned closer and spoke low. "He tried to force himself on you?"

"Aye, but he didn't succeed."

Colin prayed the whoreson hadn't taken advantage after Kristina had been knocked out. Surely she would realize it by now if he had. He would ask her later, once she was more herself.

"Are you hungry?" The scent of the roasting rabbits near them was certainly making his stomach growl.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, a small frown contorting her brows. "Feel too sick to eat."

Hell, he wished the healer from Bearach, Tavia, was here now with all her potions and herbs. She would know exactly what to do to help Kristina.

"You will feel better soon," Colin murmured, willing it to be so.

The men searched the whole area, but found no more men besides the one a MacKenzie had fought with and killed. Not Holme, unfortunately. Some of the men gathered around.

"Since they're on horses, even in this rough terrain, they'll be harder to catch in the darkness," Cyrus said, crouching near the fire pit.

"Only three of them left alive, in my estimation," Warton said.

Cyrus turned to Colin. "Do you think they'll come back?"

"Hard to say. Holme's real name is MacKillican. When he discovered who I was, he wanted revenge against me."

Cyrus frowned. "Why?"

Colin told him the story of what happened ten years ago.

"In that case, he may be back," Fraser said.

"When someone wants vengeance for something that significant, they don't give up easily," Cyrus said.

Colin nodded, hating that Kristina had been dragged into Holme's revenge plans. Although he'd had designs on her prior to that.

Once they'd rested and eaten the roasted rabbits and a few bannocks some of the men had brought along, a half-moon shone. He convinced Kristina to lie on her side and eat half a bannock to keep up her strength. 'Twas clear she was forcing herself to eat it.

"There is some moonlight, but I think 'twould be safer to spend the night here and head out at daybreak," Cyrus said.

"I agree." Though Colin would love nothing more than to rush Kristina back to the castle, they were several miles away by now and it would be highly difficult to traverse the rugged landscape in near darkness. Besides, he was certain the men were exhausted and needed to rest for a few hours.

Cyrus assigned some of his men to take first watch.

"Do you want to rest in the tent?" Colin asked Kristina. Earlier, he'd seen the lone tent out to the side.

"Nay. 'Tis where Holme attacked me."

Colin ground his teeth. Every time that image entered his mind, Colin wanted to smash his fist into Holme's face. "We can sleep here by the fire, then."

He lay down beside Kristina and pulled her into his arms, not caring what the rest of the men thought. Of course, she didn't need his body heat now, since they were beside the fire, but he thought she might feel safer if she could feel him… although he wasn't sure why, since he'd failed her and allowed Holme to abduct her.

"I'm sorry I didn't protect you well and that Holme got his hands on you… and hurt you."

She turned her head toward him. "You were injured and knocked into the river. There was naught more you could've done."

Regret tightened his chest. "'Tis my fault you're hurt."

"Nay, Colin. I'm so thankful you didn't drown in the river. I prayed for your safety."

He kissed her forehead. She was a treasure. "Rest and recover, my sweet. We'll travel back to Bearach in the morn." He prayed Red Holme had left the area and would not be waiting along the trail with bow and arrow.

 

***

 

When Kristina awoke, her head pounded as if a rock were smashing against it with every heartbeat. 'Twas the same as it had been when she'd gone to sleep. She pressed her fingers to her temples.

"Are you well, Lady Kristina?" Colin's deep and soothing voice sounded concerned as it reached her in the darkness. He was not lying next to her as he had done for most of the night. She thought it must be after dawn, because she heard the activity of several people moving around her. She smelled roasting fowl, at first uncertain whether the scent was appealing or not. She still felt a bit queasy… but also hungry.

"My head aches terribly." With her fingertips, she touched her swollen cheekbone and eye. Saints! She supposed she should not be surprised by the damage—Holme had fists like giant boulders.

"Rusty just brought some fresh, cold water from the stream. Here, try this wet cloth." Colin touched the icy cloth to her cheek. After the initial pain and shock of it, she found it soothing.

"That feels good," she whispered.

A few minutes later, Colin asked, "Do you think you could stomach some roasted grouse? Some of the men hunted this morn at dawn."

"I think so. I'm hungry."

"That's a good sign."

After she'd washed her face with the cold cloth a few times, her head felt a bit clearer. She started pushing herself up, and Colin helped her sit. He then wiped the wet cloth over her hands, washing them. She could've done it, but she liked that an attractive man wanted to help her. She would not stop him.

She hated the helplessness she felt most of the time now… well, ever since she'd been blinded, in truth, for she could not get through the Highlands by herself. In her heart, she was a strong, independent woman, but none of this showed on the outside.

"Here's a piece of grouse." Colin took her hand and placed the meat, still warm from the fire, into it. The scent was delicious.

She took a bite and chewed, finding it tender and smoky tasting. "'Tis good. I thank you."

Colin brought her fresh water to drink, then explained to her how he and his men had run into the MacKenzies, the MacDonalds and a few Camerons out searching for them last evening. Around twenty men all together. He then introduced her to Cyrus, chief of the MacKenzies, and his brother, Fraser.

"What of my sister, Anna? Did anyone see her after the battle?"

"Aye, she is well," Cyrus said.

"Thank God." Kristina could not wait to embrace her sister again. It had been so long.

After Kristina finished eating, Colin carried her into the bushes so she could relieve herself, then gave her privacy. Once she was finished, she called out to him.

He strode forward and lifted her. One arm supporting her back and the other under her knees, he carried her back toward the center of the camp. He was the gentlest man she had ever met. She rested the uninjured but scarred side of her face against his chest, wishing she could tell him how precious he was to her.

"We found this and wondered if it was the lady's," a man said.

"Did you have a pouch?" Colin asked her.

Kristina felt at her waist, shocked when she realized the pouch containing her valuables was gone. "Aye, are the earrings in it?"

"Nay, 'tis empty."

"Damn him!" she blurted, then ground her teeth. "Holme took my mother's gold earrings. Do you see them anywhere on the ground?"

"Wait here and we'll look." He seated her upon the ground. "How large are they?"

"They are coin shaped with an embossed daisy and a garnet in the center."

After a few minutes, Colin returned and crouched beside her. "Nay, lass, I'm sorry. I think Holme must have stolen them."

Tears pricked her eyes. "That bastard," she hissed. "Those were the last things I had of my mother's. I wish I'd done a better job when I stabbed him."

Colin took her hand and kissed it. "I wish I could get them back for you. Mayhap we can find them later."

Realizing she was being materialistic, she shook her head. "Do not fash over it." She and Colin were blessed to be alive. That was what she must focus on.

Readying for the journey back to Bearach, the men doused the flames with water. The hissing sounds reached her ears and the smoke drifting in the breeze grew stronger, causing her to cough.

Colin picked her up. "I need to get you out of this smoke."

As they began their journey, she heard the footfalls of many men around them, scuffling through the rocks.

Now Colin would have to carry her all the way back to the castle. Guilt weighed heavily upon her shoulders. Although she did still feel dizzy, if she'd had sight she could've walked. Judging by the way Colin moved, she could tell the ground was incredibly uneven in places.

"You must find me helpless beyond bearing," she said.

"Nay, of course not," Colin said, sounding surprised.

"Well, sometimes I do."

"What do you mean?"

She lowered her voice, not wanting to share her emotions and vulnerabilities with the other men, but she felt very comfortable talking to Colin. "I get frustrated and annoyed at myself because I can do nothing out here in the wilderness."

"No person without sight could," Colin said in a reasonable tone. "'Tis rough and rocky terrain."

"When I lived with my aunt and uncle, I could use my cane and go all over their manor house alone."

"And you will again, once you get used to the castle."

"I pray you're right." She wondered if Anna would marry the MacDonald chief. And if she did, would they welcome Kristina to live with them? She hoped so, for she would love being able to spend every day with her sister. She would make herself useful by knitting or carding wool.

"I'm certain you'll get tired of carrying me before long," she said.

"Nonsense."

"We'll all help," Rusty said. She recognized his voice. "Besides, you're a wee thing. We're just thankful 'tis not Warton who's hurt. We'd never be able to lug his heavy arse back to the castle."

The men chuckled, and Kristina couldn't help the small smile that curved her lips, despite the continuing pain in her head.

"You're not the least bit funny," Warton grumbled.

The men laughed again.

"You're all too kind. I thank you," Kristina said.

After Colin had carried her for another quarter hour, Warton said, "I'll take a turn, if the lady will permit it."

"I hate to ask it of you, Warton," she said.

"Nonsense. 'Twill be an honor and a pleasure."

"Don't enjoy it too much," Colin warned as he allowed Warton to take her from his arms.

Warton chuckled, then whispered, "He's smitten, m'lady, I vow."

Heat consumed Kristina's face. Was it true? Well, she had to admit she was also intensely drawn to Colin. But she did not think anything could come of it. She refused to think of it now. She was simply grateful to be alive and away from Holme.

Warton carried her for a quarter hour, then Rusty took over. After this, Fraser and Cyrus each took a turn. She could not believe the chief of Clan MacKenzie was carrying her. She had assumed he would order one of his soldiers to do it. Although he was a stern man with a hard voice, she sensed he was friendly and caring. And he was obviously just as physically strong as Colin.

Soon it was Colin's turn to carry her again, and she was glad. She could relax against him more easily than any of the others, and she found herself drifting in and out of sleep.

Sometime later, Warton announced, "Bearach Castle, thank the saints!"

She tried to wake up, despite the pain in her head, because she could hardly wait to embrace her sister again. But at the same time, the unnatural drowsiness dragged her back down into sleep.

 

***

 

As Colin carried Kristina across the sandbar causeway toward Bearach Castle, he glanced down at her swollen face. "Kristina? Are you well?"

Her only response was a murmur. What was happening? Was she getting worse?

The clanging of the portcullis being raised quickened his pace, as did his concern over Kristina. Soon the healer could see to her.

Anna ran toward them in the bailey, her green eyes wide, Neacal behind her.

"Thank God, you've returned!" Anna said. "How badly is she hurt?"

"She's had a head injury and, though she was more alert earlier, she's fading in and out. She's in great pain," Colin said.

"Anna?" Kristina whispered.

Anna took her hand. "Aye, I'm here. Let's get you into a bedchamber and Tavia will see to you."

"Let me take her up." Neacal held out his arms, his expressive blue eyes saying he knew how tired Colin was.

Although Colin was fully capable of carrying her up the stairs, he didn't argue. His good friend wanted to help, and he could probably maneuver up the familiar narrow stairs faster.

Colin followed them up to the chamber. Neacal laid her on the bed and moved back beside him, while Anna smoothed Kristina's hair back and kissed her forehead. The healer, Tavia, and her helper hastened into the room with their supplies and satchels, while a maid brought hot water.

"Go get yourself something to eat, Colin," Anna said, taking his hand. "Make certain he eats, Neacal."

"I'll eat," Colin assured her, but he couldn't take his gaze off Kristina, for she was pale and far less alert than she had been that morning.

Suddenly, Anna threw her arms around him in a fearsome embrace. "I thank you for bringing her back to me." Just as quickly, she released him and strode back to the bed, leaving tears on his doublet.

"Tavia is very skilled," Neacal said. "If she could save my life, she can save anyone."

"Aye." Colin knew that Neacal had been far worse off than Kristina after he'd been captured, tortured and then rescued by his clan. Many had thought he wouldn't survive it.

"I'm glad you arrived before supper. I'm sure you must be starving."

Colin nodded. "We ate grouse this morn."

They made their way down to the great hall, where dozens of people were gathered to eat. Colin joined Neacal at the high table, then he met Cyrus's brother, Shamus, who had married Neacal's sister.

Though Colin was hungry, his stomach ached with worry for Kristina and he could not get his mind off her. He ate, but did not taste much of the food. Some of the MacDonalds and MacKenzies acted out their final confrontation with Holme, showing the rest of the clan how things had played out, and providing entertainment. As those playing Holme and his men fled like terrified rabbits, laughter filled the great hall. But Colin could not join in their merriment. Even though he was thankful Kristina was safe and behind castle walls, he was still highly concerned over her head injury and how hard Holme had struck her.

He was glad when Anna joined them for a few minutes and reported that Kristina was resting well. Tavia was having Kristina drink an herbal tea and was preparing a small poultice for the bruise on her face.

After they'd finished eating and Anna had returned to Kristina's room, Neacal asked, "How about some whisky?"

"Aye." Colin was tired of the noise in the great hall, where a multitude of people talked all at once. It amplified the chaos inside him.

In the solar, Neacal poured two small glasses of whisky and offered him one, the amber liquid glinting in the firelight. "To Lady Kristina's good health."

Colin lifted his glass. "I'll drink to that." When he swallowed, the liquid provided a nice burn all the way down his throat to his stomach. Then they took seats near the hearth.

"Are you well?" Neacal eyed him. "I see that bruise on your forehead."

"Aye, 'tis naught." His own scratches and bruises didn't bother him. "I simply wish I hadn't allowed Holme to take her from me and injure her." Colin explained what had happened in the cave, when he'd been knocked into the river and washed downstream.

"You're lucky to have survived that, and I'm certain she'll be well in no time. Have faith."

Colin nodded. "I'm trying but… greatly concerned." He didn't ken why he couldn't release his worry over her. Was it a bad omen? Nay, that was nonsense. Kristina had to recover. He would accept naught else.

"Do I detect something else going on here?" his friend asked.

Colin shrugged, truly not wanting to discuss something he didn't understand and didn't want to feel.

Staring into the fire, Neacal sipped his whisky. "You can trust me, you know. I'll tell no one."

"I… have developed a fondness for her," Colin admitted, his heart thudding harder. "Although 'tis not something I wanted or expected to feel."

"I ken how that is."

"She's remarkable." Colin shook his head. "For someone so small, vulnerable and blind, she has an incredible strength of spirit. She's so bright, canny and resourceful."

Neacal sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees, still staring absently at the fire. "She and Anna must be alike in many ways."

Colin nodded and took another swallow of peaty whisky. "Kristina has been through hell already, and then for her to sustain this head injury… I blame myself."

Neacal turned to him, frowning. "Nay, you should not. You rescued her from Holme, Blackburn and the battle. If not for your actions, where would she be now? Probably dead. You must give yourself credit."

Colin tried to make himself believe Neacal was right. He had likely saved her life, though he had no way of knowing if she truly would've been killed in the battle. With two brutes like Blackburn and Holme in charge of her, she would've had little hope of survival without his intervention. Maybe if he told himself that over and over, he would start believing it. Now, if only she would recover quickly.

"Cyrus said Blackburn was killed," Colin said.

"Aye."

"'Tis a relief that he can never hurt Kristina or Anna again."

Neacal nodded. "He got what he asked for."

"I'm furious that Holme got away." Rage burning in his chest, Colin ground his teeth.

"Do you think he will be back?"

"I'm sure he still wants revenge against me."

"Why?"

Colin realized he hadn't yet told Neacal of Holme's real identity; he'd told his own men and Cyrus. "His true name is MacKillican."

"What?" The intensity of Neacal's blue eyes bored into him. "The same clan of traitors the Camerons defeated many years ago?"

"Aye."

"He has a strong motive for revenge."

Colin nodded. "When he saw me, he must have remembered my face. He confronted me and revealed his identity when we fought in the outer cave."

"Why did he not go back to Rhodie Castle and attempt revenge years ago?"

"I've wondered. Mayhap because he knew he would be severely outnumbered. Or because the king declared him and his few remaining clansmen outlaws when they fled. As for now, I'm thinking he was seizing an opportunity upon finding me out in the wood without many men around."

"With that sort of motive, he will not give up easily."