Seven
They kicked the boot of the drunkard guard.
“Fanshy sheeing ye ‘ere again after sho long.” The guard laughed, taking a mouthful of whatever demented spirits were in that hideous, dirty goblet.
“Fock off. Where are Wynton and his sons?”
“Mannersh, mannersh…” the guard cackled, unable to stand.
“Sorry excuse for a guard,” Douglas said as he passed him. “He’s been the same since Anne was taken.”
James snorted in disgust. “No men to defend this sorry keep.”
Douglas shook his head. “Arrogant. Wynton believes he is untouchable. Has more money than the king himself. ‘Tis why I didna feel the need to bring any men. We would encounter no obstacle to gain entrance or access to these bastards.”
They entered the keep and encountered no one.
“Wynton!”
Douglas’ voice boomed through the keep. He unsheathed his sword and James followed suit. Douglas’ face had distorted into some variation between man and beast.
Wynton had taken much from him.
Too much.
The history between he and Wynton was complicated, but it had not been without provocation. Then Wynton had dared to threaten everything that he’d held dear. He’d also dared to take his daughter, lie to her, and treat her no better than a slave.
His hand itched to wrap around that demon’s neck.
The look on James’ face was just as ominous as he waited alongside his father, feeling his own rage like it was another being in his body. He pictured Katie’s beautiful face beaten. Her body used for their sinful, violent lusts. The picture Connor had painted with his words had left James in a rage only murder would heal.
The pictures his mind wrought from the words he’d heard, and the pain that appeared on Katie’s face when she recalled her ordeal, was the kind meant for night terrors.
That they’d touched her, abused her, raped her, caused the tumultuous storm of rage and fury in him to spew from his lips and soul.
“WYNTON!”
Douglas watched his son.
The Marbhaiche.
‘Twas a name well-earned.
Two men walked into the room where they waited. They had an appearance similar to Maddie, making James think that they favored Anne in a small way.
They looked at Douglas and James, with eyes widened a measure at their size.
These Scots were the biggest they’d ever seen, even larger than their sister’s giant husband.
“Scots again? We need a better guard.”
James charged at them but Douglas held him back.
“What is it now?” The boredom on their faces infuriated James more.
“Yer father?”
The brothers looked at one another and turned back to Douglas. “We don’t know where he is.”
Douglas moved forward. “Where. Is. He?”
One of the brothers spoke after looking at James and Douglas closely.
“Are ye Madeleine’s father and brother?” He paused a moment. “Uncanny, the resemblance. Eyes. Hair.”
He spit on the floor. “Filthy Scots.”
Sensing the rising storm of rage, the other brother stepped forward. “Our father isn’t here, and we’ve not seen him for over a fortnight.”
Douglas growled.
“Set the dog out, Christopher. Seems he’s in need of relieving himself.”
James looked at his father and stopped him from attacking.
“Where is that hound? We haven’t seen in him in a long while.”
James knew they were speaking of Ramsay, Maddie’s dog. These bastards didn’t know anything that transpired in their keep. Connor had long ago rescued the undisciplined mongrel who Maddie adored.
The last word anyone would use to describe James is patient. He lacked it- was born without even a small measure of it.
Except where it concerned his Katie.
“Grab yer swords. I doona kill unarmed men, even those who are dishonorable, evil, bastards who rape women.”
The brothers looked at one another.
“This again? What now? Maddie’s degenerate husband killed our other brother. He’s already sought revenge.” The brother placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Men!” the calmer brother yelled. “Easy, Eric. Let them fight our men. I tire of these Scots bastards stepping their dirty feet upon our land and in our keep.”
James’ eyes focused on him, curious.
Armed men entered into the room, but that hadn’t moved James’ attention. He wasn’t concerned. He looked at the one who’d spoken.
“Other than me, my father, and Connor Ramsay, what other Scot came here?”
Eric laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know, bastard? Attack!”
Christopher and Eric stood by as their men fought Douglas and James. In a matter of moments, they’d made quick work of the inferiorly trained Englishmen. James and Douglas turned to the brothers, panting slightly.
“That was enjoyable, beginning fare for the main course.”
Christopher and Eric looked at James as he’d spoken. The manner in which the other man’s yellow eyes eerily gleamed made them pause.
“Leave while you can, Scot. There is nothing further here. Our father is not here and we do not know when he will return.”
“That may be why my father is here, but it isna why I am here.”
Eric rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “What now? It’s truly unbelievable how these Scots feel slighted over the least of offenses.”
James stood to his full height. “I would hardly call the rape of a woman a small offense.”
Eric uncrossed his arms and cut the air with his hand. “This again? Our brother has already died. ‘Tis more than enough retribution for the rape of a worthless Scots whore.”
“Ye will bleed for those words.”
“Leave. Our family has suffered enough because of you and your countrymen.”
“Grab a sword.”
Eric turned to Christopher. “I told you we should have never gone along with Robert’s plan. A few moments of flesh, which was hardly enjoyable amidst her cries and begging, in exchange for continuous Scots’ intrusions.”
James bellowed, threw his sword down, and charged forward. Eric and Christopher backed up, then moved to block James’ blows.
They were no match for the giant, enraged Scot.
James simultaneously slammed both fists into their faces, causing blood to gush out. He roared and beat one, then turned to punched the other.
“Ye filthy bastards. She was an innocent. A pure soul!”
Eric tried to return a sarcastic rebuttal but before he could, James landed a punch, breaking his jaw. Eric screamed, backing up. James turned to Christopher, who took a step backwards.
The Scot before them was no man, but a beast from hell.
“Run, Eric!”
“Ye canna. I willna let ye. Ye die here, now.”
James grabbed hold of Christopher’s shirt with both fists, and brought him forward until they were nose to nose.
“Ye defiled a beautiful, gentle woman. An angel. My angel. Ye will die today.”
“But you are Maddie’s brother, as we are. We have that commonality. Surely you can overlook this for the sake of our dear sister.”
James head-bunted Christopher. “Ye doona care one bit about my sister. She isna yer sister, she is mine. Ye didna protect her when she needed it. All three of ye are the devil’s spawns for treating her as ye did, and for raping my angel.”
Christopher made the mistake of bringing his arm up to punch James, but James caught it and twisted it. The loud crunch was heard in the room. Christopher screamed in agony, falling to the ground.
“Despicable dogs that ye are.” James looked back at his father who nodded. Swinging back his booted foot, James kicked both brothers in the cock. The howls of pain echoed throughout the keep.
“Ye will regret what ye did to Maddie and Katie. The pain ye feel now is the least ye will be feeling as we progress.”
The Marbhaiche moved forward as the men screamed for help.
None came.