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Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

B airre huffed impatiently and turned to his guards. "Enough of this. It is time we were bound fer me castle." He turned to Dahlia who was still seated on the chair, although her hands were now free. "We dinnae wish tae keep the priest waiting dae we, me love?" He reached out and cupped her chin. "Tomorrow night we'll be wed and ye'll be mine fer the rest of yer days." He gave a chuckle that brought Dahlia's head up defiantly as she shrugged away his hand.

"I'll die before I wed ye, Bairre Mackinnon," She hissed the words, leaving no doubt she meant every one of them.

Ignoring Dahlia's fury, Bairre snapped his fingers at Craig, who jumped to attention, ready to do his master's bidding.

"Tie the man securely, we'll take him with us." He grinned at Arran, rubbing his hands as the guards stepped forward. "I've a special treat waiting fer him in the dungeon at Castle MacKinnon. Ye may recall the place from a previous visit." He laughed again.

As Craig bent to retie his hands, Arran lunged, butting Craig a huge blow with his forehead. Craig stumbled back and Arran seized the initiative with his dirk. He snatched Dahlia's arm and she clambered to her feet behind him. Wielding the dirk at arm's length he swung it from side to side between Bairre and Craig as he stepped toward the doorway.

"Come any closer and I'll skewer both of ye."

Bairre's two guards were circling him, sorely outnumbering him.

At that moment their attention was diverted by loud voices in the corridor outside. Then came the clash of arms, shouts, and screams and the door flew open, allowing entry to Haldor and his brothers.

This new turn of events caused Arran's already pounding heart to beat faster. Now there was hope.

As the guards leaped forward, ready to face this new threat, Haldor threw a sword to Arran who caught it in his right hand, his left still firmly clutching the dirk.

From the corner of his eye, Arran was aware of Dahlia, pressed against the wall, while her brothers Ivar and Arne were engaged in a fierce tussle with Bairre's guards. He swiveled his head searching for Craig but, fending off blows from of the guards, he could not catch sight of him among the swelling melee.

Outside the room, the MacLeod guardsmen were tangling with the rest of Bairre's guards.

It was a fierce fight, but Haldor's men had the faster, stronger edge.

Haldor sprang into the center of the room, coming face-to-face with Bairre. As the two men faced off, Bairre roared at Haldor.

"How dare ye enter me private lodging with yer sword drawn and have yer men attack mine?"

Haldor, crouching in battle stance, responded in a cold, menacing tone. "And how dare ye kidnap me sister and hold her and yer own kinsman prisoners in this room?"

Bairre sneered. "Ye forget, MacLeod, that King Robert has given yer sister tae me. She is tae be wed with me tomorrow."

Dahlia cried out. "I'll take me dirk and kill mesel' before I be wed with him."

Haldor lifted his head. "Ye heard the lady."

Bairre swung his sword, lunging a mighty blow at Haldor. "Ye'll nae stop me taking the lass. She is mine."

Haldor parried Bairre's blow and the two men fought with the ferocity of old enemies at last meeting in battle, evenly matched and each one determined to end the other's life.

Meanwhile, in the hallway, Arran went to deal the guard a ringing blow and the man sank to the floor clutching his arm, blood flowing freely from a savage cut.

As he fell, groaning, another guard launched himself at Arran, sword raised, his face a twisted snarl.

There was still no sigh of Craig. Had he fled the scene, afraid tae face the enemy who had, a short time ago been his friend?

In the confined space of the narrow hall, it was almost impossible to swing his sword while keeping a distance between himself and the battle raging between Bairre and Haldor. Arran took his fight with the guard outside onto the landing, parrying the man's thrusts with ease while backing him out the door and into the corridor at the top of the stairs.

The passageway was littered with wounded men, some curled in a ball, clutching their wounds, moaning softly, others spread-eagled, bleeding from their chests and bellies. One man lay prone in a pool of his own blood, his throat cut from ear to ear.

It seemed most of the struggle was now located outside the tavern itself as Ivar and Arne, along with their guards, gave chase to the last of Bairre's men.

One final blow with Arran's sword sent his opponent reeling, clutching his arm. The man looked at Arran with fear-filled eyes. "Melord, enough," he screamed, throwing up his hands in surrender. With that he turned and raced down the stairs as if the devil himself was at his heels, heedless of his wound.

After watching the man flee, Arran turned to the doorway again, his chief focus now to get Dahlia to safety. Before he took another step he froze at the sound of her shrill, terrified scream. A moment later she stumbled into the corridor, her arm twisted behind her back, held fast by Craig. The light shone on the bright steel of his dirk as he pressed it against her throat.

"Dinnae try and stop me Arran," he snarled. "One step toward me and I'll slice the lady's pretty white throat with me dirk. And, trust me, it's sharp enough that it will be quick and she'll hardly feel a thing."

Already blood was trickling down Dahlia's throat from where the point of Craig's blade had penetrated her flesh.

Arran glowered at Craig. He could scarcely believe this man, who he'd thought of as his friend since they were bairns, was threatening tae harm his beloved.

"I've kent ye many years, and yer betrayal doesnae sit well with me. But in all that time I never realized ye were a coward who would use a lass tae shield himself. Throw down yer dirk and take up yer sword and meet me like a man in honest combat."

Craig sneered, his response to press his dirk harder into her throat so that the blood flowed freely. "D'ye take me fer a fool? Ye've always bested me in training and sparring, d'ye expect me tae throw me life away on the point of yer sword tae prove mesel' worthy?

Feeling the rage of the warrior's red mist descending, Arran crouched, growling like a wolf, ready to take down his enemy. All thoughts of friendship had evaporated, destroyed by Craig's unrepentant determination to do his worst. Not only was he a traitor, but he was also a man without honor. The only thing holding Arran fast, preventing him from gutting Craig like a fish was his overriding fear that the coward would be true to his word and that, as he died, he would snuff out Dahlia's life without a thought.

His sword was poised, held loosely in his hand, ready to strike with lightning speed when the moment presented. But he was frozen, unable to make a move for fear of what Craig would do to Dahlia.

Craig eased himself and Dahlia out of the doorway and past Arran, treading carefully toward the top of the staircase.

Arran could only stand by helplessly, his heart pounding with an overwhelming rage, his mind still, calculating, alert.

It was at the moment both Dahlia and Craig placed their feet on the first stair that Dahlia suddenly slumped, limp as a fallen autumn leaf, her body flopping onto the step.

Momentarily off balance, Craig stumbled slightly, shifting the hand holding the dirk inches away from Dahlia's throat.

This was the opening Arran had been waiting for. It took only an instant for him to swing his sword and, heedless of anything but Dahlia, he drove it hard into Craig's heart.

A look of surprise on his face, the man collapsed, going down like a sack of barley, twisting and rolling to the bottom of the stairs where he lay still.

Arran sprang to Dahlia's side and seized her in an almighty embrace. She clung to him, her eyes filling with tears.

"Me love, I was so afeared. I thought Craig would kill me first and then he'd take yer life."

He tightened his grip on her. "Nay. He had nay chance. Nothing could save him once he'd threatened ye. Ye are everything tae me, Dahlia." He dropped a dozen little kisses into her hair. "Me life without ye would be naught."

Taking a linen kerchief from her pocket, she handed it to Arran with a shudder. "Can ye staunch the blood fer me? I can feel it trickling down."

With the scrap of linen, he dabbed at the blood still escaping from the wound Craig had inflicted.

The sound of a faint chuckle caused them both to turn their heads toward the open door to the room.

Haldor, chest heaving, blood spattering his tunic, his sword in his hand dripping blood, appeared in the doorway. His lips quirked in a triumphant grin.

Dahlia raced to his side. "Braither, are ye wounded?"

He shook his head. "Mayhap I've a bruise or two." He held up his arm where a cut to his wrist was trickling blood. "But this is nae me blood, sister. It is the blood of the man ye feared."

She rushed her hand to her mouth. "Is Bairre… is he…?"

"Aye. He'll never threaten ye again Dahlia."

She breathed out a long exhalation and let herself subside into Arran's arms. "I can scarcely contemplate what me life will be like without the menace of that man hanging over me every breath."

"Aye, me love. With the end of Bairre Mackinnon's life, ours can begin at last."

Haldor looked at them curiously. "Mayhap we have much tae discuss. All being well, we will soon be away from this place and on our way back tae Castle MacLeod. But first, I must see tae the men and me braithers."

They followed him down the stairs and out into the inn-yard and found Ivar and Arne seated on a bale of hay in the stables, cleaning their swords.

Ivar gave them a satisfied smile. "We've nay more than one or two wounded among our guards."

Arne grinned at Arran. "Ye'll have nae more concern with Bairre Mackinnon's men. Those who survived the clash beat a hasty retreat. Mayhap they'll be on their way back tae their castle or wherever they decide tae roam."

Haldor turned to Arran. "And there's a new laird will be taking his rightful place as the head of Clan Mackinnon and making his home at the castle."

His eyes spilling with joy, Arran took Dahlia's hand in his strong grip. "And mayhap the new laird will nae be alone in his castle."

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