Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

G rey pre-dawn light filled the bedchamber as Dahlia opened her eyes and remembering her night, she sighed and rolled over still half asleep.

It was Arran's deep voice that jolted her into full wakefulness.

"'Tis time, melady. I must meet with Bairre in the training yard at dawn."

In sudden panic she reached out her hand and clutched at his arm, relieved to encounter the chainmail of his hauberk.

She jumped out of bed and threw on her robe, raising her face for his kiss.

"Can ye nae wait? I'll take but little time tae dress. I'll be one of the spectators in the training yard and I'll be able tae watch the laird and his men tae make sure they dinnae try any dirty tricks tae bring ye down."

He grinned. "Never fear, me love. I have me own loyal men and I'll be making certain they are in attendance. Nay matter what mischief Bairre may have in mind, I'll be ready for him."

After only the briefest of kisses he turned on his heel and headed to the door. He paused there to lightly cup her chin. "Dinnae fash. I'll be well. I've ye and me mother tae see tae and I'll let neither of ye suffer on me behalf."

Once Arran had left, Dahlia rang for Beattie and wasted no time in dressing. Clad in a kirtle of royal blue that matched her eyes with a cream-colored linen shirt, she waited impatiently while Beattie brushed and braided her hair. As soon as she was neat and tidy, she belted her kirtle, picked up her money pouch and, with Beattie alongside, hastened out of her room and headed out of the keep toward the training yard.

When she arrived, she was surprised to see Craig Donald was already there. He escorted her and Beattie into the row of seating positioned just above the perimeter of the yard, where they could see everything that was taking place.

She looked around, noticing a small group of men gathered to the side of the yard. All of them were well armed with long swords and dirks. She could only hope these were the men who were loyal to Arran. On the opposite side was another group of heavily armed men. No doubt these were Bairre's hand-picked guard.

It seemed to her there was tension in the air. The armed men on both sides had their hands on their sword pommels and it was clear they were expecting to draw their swords at a moment's notice.

Seated beside her, Craig cast her a reassuring glance. "Dinnae fash melady. Arran and Bairre are old sparring partners. They each ken the other's moves and there'll be nay surprises. Nay one will be injured today. Ye may rest assured of that."

She was tempted to ask him about the two surly groups of men stationed on either side of the yard, but thought better of it. Best not to say anything that could raise suspicion that she thought all was not well or that Arran could be in danger.

Arran and Bairre were evenly matched and, as Craig had said, each seemed to anticipate the other's moves effortlessly. As she settled in to watch the sparring bout which, to her great seemed to promise no surprises, she felt her shoulders begin to ease and her pounding heart slowly regain its steady rhythm. Even more so, when she noticed that Arran was taking the upper hand and that Bairre looked like he was getting somewhat tired.

They continued to spar, with Arran advancing on the laird step by step, as the latter moved back with the will to defend himself from his opponent's constant attacks. Both men were covered in a sheen of sweet and they observed one another's moves with deep concentration. The laird's mouth was pressed in a thin line as he took yet another step back, while blocking a hit from Arran, who was now towering over him.

Then suddenly, as their swords locked, Bairre leaned in to Arran and she saw his lips moving as he said something only Arran could hear. Momentarily distracted, Arran frowned glancing up into the seats, until his eyes came to rest on Dahlia. It occurred to her that whatever Bairre had said concerned her and his words were enough to put Arran in danger.

Taking advantage of the moment of distraction Bairre had created, he struck a lightning blow and Arran's sword flew out of his hand into the air, coming to land on the other side of the training ground, well out of his reach. Before anyone could move, Bairre was pressing the tip of his sword at Arran's unprotected throat.

A murmur went through the crowd and both groups of armed men on the sidelines brought their hands to their swords again. Dahlia leaped to her feet, a scream escaping her lips. There, right there, in front of everyone, Bairre was about to murder Arran. And Arran's loyal guards were powerless to stop the attack.

As she watched in horror, both groups of waiting men unsheathed their weapons and stepped toward each other their faces taut, eyes flashing.

Bairre hesitated, his gaze raking the crowd. Arran raised his hands in the submissive gesture of a knight in training. If Bairre ran him through now it would be clear to all that he was committing cold-blooded murder.

Finally, after a breathless moment that stretched into terror, Bairre lowered his sword, his features twisted in a grim smile. He spoke again, and this time his words rang out loud and clear.

"Luck is with ye this day, cousin. But beware. Yer luck is nae likely tae be with ye fer much longer."

The menace and threat were raw and ill-considered. Bairre was making it clear it was not only Emilia whose life was at risk but that Arran's fate was also in his hands.

Dahlia shivered as she watched Bairre and Arran leave the training ground. A slight cut on Arran's wrist was dripping blood but he held his head high as he walked out, followed by his men.

Turning to Beattie, she whispered. "Can ye ask yer cousin Nicol tae attend me in the solar as soon as he's able? I need tae talk with him again."

Beattie nodded. "Aye, melady. I'll seek him out and make the request. I ken ye'll need his guidance very soon."

Back in her solar Dahlia tried to calm herself, gulping in deep breaths, pacing the length of the chamber and back, doing her best to still her shaking hands. But it was no use. All she could think of was the look of pure hatred she'd seen flash across Bairre's face as he held Arran's life in his hands.

There was no doubt in her mind that they were in grave danger and that if they were to remain in the castle, they were likely to end up locked in the dungeon, or worse.

Time lengthened and still there was no word from Beattie. At regular intervals, Dahlia opened the solar door a few inches and peered out, hoping against hope that Arran was, once again, in his position there. Finally, as a way to take her mind off the waiting, she took out a piece of parchment and her quill and ink. She would write her brother again and let him know the danger she was facing.

It isnae safe fer me tae remain in this place, dear braither. If I have me way I will depart from the castle this night and begin me journey home. I will never marry the Laird Bairre and, king's decree or nae, I'll nae be wed tae a man I cannae love. I ken I should be waiting fer ye tae find me way out, but I cannae stay in castle Mackinnon any longer. Time is running out.

After folding the parchment, she dripped hot sealing wax on the crease and added her seal. Having revealed her heart to her brother relieved some of the burden that was weighing on her shoulders. They would leave this place as soon as Nicol was free to act as their guide and she would never have to look on Bairre Mackinnon's face again.

After what seemed an eternity, Beattie finally rushed in, her face pink with effort.

"I beg yer pardon, melady. I had to search high and low for Nicol. He was busy in the fields assisting in the haymaking. He will come tae ye as soon as he is able."

"Thank ye, Beattie." Dahlia bit down on her impatience. She did not wish to wait another minute before making preparations to flee from the castle.

"There was a lot of dour grumblings amidst the men, melady. They were nae pleased at the way the laird had acted. I heard one lad say that it was fortunate the men were there fer he saw bloody murder in his eyes."

Dahlia shuddered. "Aye. Every hour we linger here the danger grows. We must make ready tae depart as soon as we are able"

She looked up as a faint scratching sound came from the door. When Beattie opened it, Arran was standing there, a linen bandage fastened on his wrist.

"I must take care nae tae be seen," he said, stepping into the solar.

"Are ye all right?" Dahlia clutched his arm, her words tumbling out. "What did Bairre say tae ye that caused ye tae take yer eyes off him?"

"The cunning sod well kent that by insulting ye I'd break focus and give him the opening he needed."

Dahlia nodded slowly. That was as she'd feared.

"I see now that Bairre didnae believe me little charade last night and me protestations that I couldnae tolerate ye watching over me. He kent ye'd be upset at the insulting words he spoke tae ye. And he heard me scream when he held his sword at yer throat."

"Aye. We cannae remain here. I am certain he kens what there is between us. He'll nay tolerate our residence here fer much longer. Yet he remains fixed on the notion of marriage with ye."

Dahlia hmphed loudly at this. "He wishes tae build his fortune by taking MacLeod lands. He cares nae a fig fer me. All his honeyed words and chivalry are playacting on his part. He strives tae win me confidence and keep me here long enough fer the wedding ceremony tae take place. I have nae doubt that if a priest should marry us, he'd take revenge on me fer me reluctance as soon as the vows were made."

They paused at the sound of rapping on the door. Beattie hurried over and quickly opened it to enable Nicol to slip into the solar. "Naebody saw me come here," he said doffing his bonnet to Arran and Dahlia.

"Thank ye fer attending us here," Arran began. "I believe ye can guide us tae the place in the mountains often frequented by both Bairre and James Mackinnon when they were lads."

Nicol nodded. "Aye. I recall the path we took some years back. Although we never found the place they'd made their hideout, I believe I ken where it is and I can take ye there."

"And how soon can ye be ready tae ride with us?"

"Me shift on guard duty ends at midnight and I'll be ready after that."

"In that case, we'll make ready. I will thank ye tae tell the head groom that the time fer us tae leave this place has come and tae make ready our horses."

Arran walked with Nicol to the door. After the man had taken his leave, Arran turned to Dahlia and Beattie. "'Tis midnight then, our flight. We'll ride intae the night with Nicol tae guide us."

After he'd stepped outside to resume his duty as her jailer, Dahlia turned to her maid.

"Of course, I willnae insist ye accompany us, Beattie. It will be hard riding in the mountains and there'll nae be the comforts afforded ye at the castle."

Beattie chuckled. "'Tis nae bother tae me, melady. I'm happy tae be of service tae ye wherever ye are." There was a sudden mischievous light in her eyes. "Besides, once the word is out that me cousin was yer guide, I'd be back scrubbing pots in the kitchen or emptying the chamber pots. I prefer tae come."

Dahlia took Beattie in her arms for a warm hug. "Thank ye, good woman. I'll be glad of yer help on the journey."

"Now," Beattie smoothed her skirt and straightened her lace cap, "there's work tae be done, ye'll need tae prepare. I'll make sure ye've clean clothes and the kitchen has a package of bannocks and oatcakes fer us tae take with us."

Dahlia retreated to her bedchamber before supper time, taking care to be well out of the way of Bairre who, according to Beattie, was dining in the great hall with his men. Arran followed the two women, keeping several strides behind them, and stationed himself at the door of Dahlia's chamber.

As the night wore on and with Beattie busying herself at her tasks, Dahlia dozed briefly in her chair by the fire, but terrifying visions of being pursued by horsemen coming in every direction alternating with nightmarish wanderings alone in unknown woodland kept her from feeling rested.

At last, the time had come for them to leave the room and make their way to the stables. Dahlia prayed that Nicol had gone undetected and that the horses would be saddled and waiting for them to make their escape.

Arran shouldered the small bundle of clothing and the box from the kitchen and led Dahlia and Beattie silently through the labyrinth of hidden passageways that took them through the keep, culminating in the pathway at the rear of the stables.

When they reached the stables, there was no sign of Nicol.