Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

A s Arran gazed down at his mother, lying so prone and still, she opened her eyes and the faintest of smiles quirked her lips.

She raised a shaky hand and took his. "Me boy," she said

Trembling all over, blood suddenly rushing to his head, Arran went to his knees beside her, all but overcome. "Maither, I've found ye. Thank the Lord."

He stroked her grey hair gently back from her forehead while she held his hand in an iron grip, surprising him with her strength.

"Ye look so frail, dear one, are ye well? Have those filthy, heartless bastards mistreated ye. If they have I'll…" He subsided as the red mist surged over him. He'd inflict a thousand cuts on those swine if they'd harmed Emilia.

"Nay. Dinnae fash. I've nay been harmed; they gave me food and drink. What's been gnawing at me was the fear that Bairre Mackinnon may have carried out his dire threats and ended yer life. And I'm weak because I've nay been permitted to walk in the woods and breath the fresh air." She glanced around the interior of the bothy. "I've been stuck in here, breathing the smoke and despairing that I'd never leave this place." Tears poured down her cheeks and Arran wiped them away.

"I'm here tae take ye away from this place."

She clutched at his arm. "But the Mackinnon… Where is he? He'll never allow us tae leave here."

"Methinks he's a day behind us. We'll be long gone before he reaches here." He hoped he was speaking the truth but, in his heart, he sensed that Bairre could not be far behind them. They must waste no time in leaving the bothy and continuing on their way with all speed.

"Maither, dae ye have the strength tae climb from yer bed?"

Emilia nodded. "If ye can help me, I think I can stand." She pushed back the covers and slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed. He put a steadying arm around her and helped her to her feet but she staggered and would have fallen if he hadn't held her tightly. He guided her the few steps across the room to take a seat on one of the timber chairs at the table.

At that moment Nicol and Craig appeared in the doorway. When Craig caught sight of Emilia seated at the table, he doffed his cap and bowed. "Melady, it gladdens me heart tae se ye. We've long searched fer ye."

Nicol also bowed as Arran introduced him. "Nicol Murison has been our guide. He recalled the Mackinnons coming here as lads and he led us tae ye."

Emilia smiled at Nicol. "I thank ye with all me heart fer guiding me son tae find me. I am glad tae see ye."

Arran addressed Craig quietly. "Could ye slip outside and ask Dahlia and her maid tae attend us here?"

Once Craig had gone, Nicol entered with a flagon of water which he offered to Emilia. She drank thirstily and rewarded him with a sweet smile.

Arran could see his mother was weak after her months of captivity but he was also anxious for them to be on their way and make it to the safety of the MacLeod lands, which were now within a day's ride. He took Nicol aside and whispered a quick instruction.

"Can ye ride back tae the village and ask Nell if she's got a tonic or a tincture that could help restore me maither? Be careful when ye return and if ye see we have left, fer we may be forced tae if we hear the laird arrive, follow us intae MacLeod lands."

He gave Arran a quick salute, turned on his heel and disappeared through the door. Minutes later Arran heard the ring of a horse's bridle.

A little color had returned to Emilia's cheeks and Arran tucked a blanket around her shoulders to keep her warm. It was clear that she was not yet fit to ride and would need some time before they could consider continuing their journey.

When Dahlia entered the room, she rushed to be at Emilia's side.

"I'm Dahlia MacLeod," she said breathlessly, even before Arran had a chance to introduce her to his mother.

Her eyes shining, she reached out with her hands to clasp both of Emilia's. "I am so happy tae see ye."

Emilia's eyes sparkled. "It is a pleasure tae meet ye, lass."

Dahlia looked up at Arran. "As soon as ye're strong enough tae travel we'll be on our way into me clan's lands, where we will all be safe from the Laird Mackinnon."

Arran and Emilia exchanged glances and he recognized the fear in his mother's eyes and inwardly cursed Bairre for what he'd done.

"Mayhap ye'd like tae try tae walk, Maither?" Arran suggested, holding his arm for Emilia.

She smiled. "I'd love tae go outside and breathe the air and listen to the breeze in the trees and watch the birds flying overhead. It's been too long I've been deprived of such small but enduring delights."

He helped her rise. She was tall, like he was, her grey hair wound around her head in tight braids. Even though her beauty had faded, her green-gold eyes were bright and the smile she wore brought back a faint glimmer of her youthful looks.

With Dahlia holding her hand and her other hand in Arran's arm, she shuffled to the door. Once she was outside, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. "I had almost lost hope that I'd ever feel the sun and the breeze on me face again and listen to the sounds of the woodlands."

They did not stroll very far from the bothy before Emilia declared that was as great a distance as she could manage. "But by tomorrow I'll be stronger."

The large stewpot hanging over the fire contained a fragrant rabbit stew with neeps and carrots, sufficient for them all to partake of a hearty meal. There was no need to touch the bannocks and oat cakes and hard-boiled eggs Nell had insisted on them taking when they'd departed from the village at first light. They would save those.

Once they'd eaten enough to satisfy their hunger, they joined Dahlia and Emilia at the table and listened to her stories of being held prisoner. She had made several attempts to escape and, as a consequence, Bairre had added a second man to guard her, afraid that she might make her way down the mountain to safety.

"And those ruffians kept me under watch day and night. Even when I needed tae relieve meself, one of them would accompany me."

Arran's fury grew as he listened to Emilia relating the indignities and privations, she'd been forced to suffer at the hands of Bairre Mackinnon.

"Never fear, Maither. Ye'll be safe soon enough. As soon as ye regain yer strength, we'll be off."

While Arran was reassuring his mother, Craig signaled to him that he wished to speak with him privately. Arran rose, excused himself and followed his friend outside.

"It seems yer maither is too poorly fer us tae ride with her today."

"Aye. She'll need a wee rest and another chance to stretch her legs before her strength returns enough fer her tae ride. I fear we'll need tae wait here overnight and head off down the mountain at dawn tomorrow."

Craig nodded, a scowl drawing his brows together. He shook his head. "I'm sore afeared Bairre and his men will be upon us afore then."

Arran nodded. "I believe we've bought nay more than one day ahead of them. Just as the storm slowed us down it will have been the same fer them. Me guess is that they are close behind us, mayhap already in the village. They could even be close enough that they could be upon us in the night." He rubbed his arm, "I'm guessing they will wait till morning before they make their final push."

Craig nodded. "We'll need tae leave before dawn tomorrow and ride like the wind if we're tae have any chance of outpacing them. "Ideally, we should be on our way within the hour."

"Maither needs more time." There was desperation in Arran's voice. He paced across the clearing to the spot where the horses were now tethered, cropping the grass. He turned back to Craig. "D'ye have an answer?"

"I've been giving it a great deal of thought, Arran. Travelling with Emilia will be slow. We will risk being caught by Bairre and his men. That will mean a fight."

"Aye. I'm ready tae fight and Nicol understands what's at stake. I can call on him tae defend us. And ye?" He looked questioningly at Craig. "Ye're Bairre's War Chief. Would ye dare tae stand against him?"

"Ye're me friend and I'll fight tae defend ye whether the enemy is Bairre Mackinnon or nae. But, truth tae tell, I'd rather avoid a fight with the laird."

Arran flung his arm around Craig shoulders. "Ye're a good and true friend."

Craig studied Arran's features. "Ye say ye and the Lady Dahlia are lovers now?"

"Aye. That is so. I've loved her these many years since I tried, without success, tae free her from the clutches of James Mackinnon when he had her incarcerated in his dungeon." He shook his head, his eyes full of regret, a rueful smile on his face. "And she almost made it. But that swine recaptured her. I was fortunate tae escape with me life fer all me trouble."

A snort of laughter came from Craig, who was shaking his head in amazement. "T'was ye! By all the saints, I never kent it was ye. Me and me men searched high and low fer any sign of the foolhardy villain who had almost whisked away our prisoner." He scratched his head. "And all the time it was ye."

"D'ye forget I spent me boyhood in the castle. I kent every nook and cranny and during me exile I came and went many times, escaping the notice of the guard and renewing me acquaintance with many of the lads. That was how I learned that the Laird James was holding a beautiful lass prisoner, trying tae force her intae marriage with him."

Craig nodded his agreement. "Me guess is that Bairre will care more about recapturing yer lady love than he will care about taking Emilia again. The Lady MacLeod represents money and status with King Robert, and he'll nae relinquish that without a fight. Tae the death if needs be."

Arran shuddered, his thoughts flying to the fate awaiting Dahlia if she should be recaptured by Bairre. The beast would show her nae mercy.

As they walked through the woods Arran allowed his thoughts to roam. There was no doubt in his mind Bairre would be hell bent on finding Dahlia and making her his prisoner. In a matter of a few days from now, the period of grace before their marriage allotted by King Robert would be spent and Bairre would claim her. They would be wed regardless of Dahlia's objections.

"Ye're correct." He turned to Craig. "Yet Emilia is too weak tae ride with us. If we wait, Bairre may well catch up with us." He looked around despairingly. "There are only three of us tae fight against Bairre and how many of his men?"

Arran knelt by the burn and dipped his fingers into the cool water, puzzling over the problem he faced.

Craig took up position on a fallen log. "'I've an idea. It will nay solve the problem completely, but me plan might just be sufficient tae keep Dahlia out of the laird's clutches."

"If ye've a solution tae our problems I wish tae hear it," Arran shook his hand, flying droplets of water through the air, "Out with it, me friend."

"Mayhap it will nae meet with yer approval, Arran. But it will provide safety tae yer beloved lass and perchance buy some time fer Emilia tae regain her strength."

Arran huffed impatiently. "It's nay matter if I approve or nay, me first wish is fer the safety of Dahlia."

"Well then," Craig began, "me suggestion is that the lady and mesel' should leave at once and ride hell fer leather tae the safety of MacLeod lands."

"The two of ye, alone."

"Aye, we can make it tae her clan lands and the protection of her braither the laird. Once there, the MacLeods can be roused tae ride back tae this place tae give ye aid if ye are in trouble with Bairre and his men."

Arran took a deep breath. Craig was right. He hated the idea of being separated from Dahlia, but he trusted his old friend to defend her at all cost. With only the two of them riding they had a better chance of reaching safety without the rest of the group and Emilia slowing them down.

He turned and began walking slowly back toward the bothy, Craig at his side.

"Can ye saddle up the horses? I'll go and put yer suggestion tae her." He gave a snort of laughter. "She may take some time tae be convinced of this new course of action."

When he entered the bothy the scene that greeted him caused a large lump to form in his throat.

Dahlia and Beattie were seated beside Emilia. Dahlia was brushing Emilia's long grey tresses and Beattie was painstakingly creating a myriad of tiny braids, threading them with silk ribbons. Emilia had changed her clothing and was clad in a fresh kirtle of pale blue linen with an undershirt in a matching color.

For a few minutes Arran remained standing silently in the doorway watching the tender scene, his heart warming at the sight of the two women he loved most in the world smiling and giggling together in this gentle connection. His mother's face was glowing, a tiny bunch of bluebells had been placed in an old pottery mug on the table, the fire was blazing, and the room was filled with the delicate scent of lavender.

The thought of having to tear Dahlia away and send her off without him caused a stabbing pain in his chest.

But there was no other recourse.

When Dahlia looked up, he signaled her to accompany him outside. She laid down the hairbrush and excused herself and hastened over to follow him through the door.

As she stepped up beside him, he seized her hand, enveloping it in his and squeezing it tightly.

She recognized at once there was something on his mind. "What is it?" She looked into his eyes, frowning.

"I've been talking with Craig. We are both aware Bairre will be hunting us by now.

Dahlia nodded, her eyes clouding with anxiety. He took her in an embrace, wrapping her in his arms, reveling in the sweet scent of her and the softness of her hair against his cheek.

"It may only be a brief time before he and his men are upon us."

She sucked in a harsh, frightened breath, leaning closer. "I ken we have nay time tae spare."

"Aye. That is the problem we face. Maither is nae strong enough tae ride. Even if we leave here at dawn, she will still be weak."

"If she becomes aware that Bairre may nae be far off I'm certain she would rather face death and ride with us than risk being captured by him again."

"Aye. That is me great fear. Craig has made a suggestion and I'm in agreement with him. Ye and he can leave now and be within MacLeod lands by nightfall, while we bide here through the night. We will follow at dawn if Maither is strong enough."

She pulled away from him, bending to collect a smooth round stone from the grass and cradled it in her hands. "I understand. Ye wish me tae be safely away rather than risk waiting with the possibility of Bairre catching up with us."

He ruffled her hair and leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead. "At least I would ken that one of me lassies was safe. And that…," he kissed her again, "…would bring some joy tae me heart."

"I hate tae leave ye, Arran."

"Och lass. Once ye reach Castle MacLeod ye can alert yer braithers. Mayhap they'll ride out and add their strength tae ours if it comes tae a clash with Bairre."

Then he pulled her into his arms again for a long, sad and lonely kiss.