Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

W e are too far from the castle. They willnae hear us. They willnae see us.

They had no one to rely on but each other, but Bonnie was once again unarmed. She had not considered the possibility of a threat approaching them in the middle of the day, especially so close to the castle. She didn't even think she would be leaving the castle in the first place, and so she had nothing but her fists with which to fight. Against half a dozen men twice her size, she didn't stand a chance.

Before they could get too close, Evan threw himself in front of her, using his body as a shield. They had no time to flee, but Bonnie couldn't convince herself Evan could defeat six men at once. Their odds were too bad. Any hope that still lingered quickly began to evaporate.

These must be Ruthven's men. How have they come so close?

Had they slain Evan's men to approach the castle? Or had they simply hid, making their way through the shadows and staying away from Evan's patrols?

Bonnie didn't know. All she knew was that those men were out for blood and they wouldn't rest until they had their fill.

She watched, helpless, as Evan threw himself at the first man on his path. Their swords collided with a clang, the sound loud and jarring around them, slicing through the silence. Another man was quick to join the fight next to his fellow soldier, both of them attacking Evan at the same time.

They will kill him. They will kill him an' there is naething I can dae about it.

"Bonnie, run!" Evan called as he ducked, avoiding the sword that threatened to slit his throat. As he stood back up, Bonnie saw something small and glinting in his left hand—a knife. A knife that he tossed to her, the blade landing close to her feet. "Run I say!"

Bonnie didn't run. She wasn't going to leave Evan there all alone, especially not now that she had a knife. Scrabbling to grab it, Bonnie held it tightly in her hand, ignoring the pain that shot through her arm as she moved and tightened her fist. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony Evan's death would bring her.

Unlike her sister, Bonnie was better with a bow than with a knife, and it didn't take her long to spot an archer among the men, his bow neglected in favor of a knife not unlike the one she was holding. He was waiting in the fringes, wary of an approach when Evan was wielding a sword, and Bonnie rushed to him, flying through the small crowd of men, their hands shooting out to grab her only for her to slip right out of their clutches in her haste.

She hoped she had distracted them enough for Evan to get some advantage, at least. She didn't have the chance to look back, not when her target was right in front of her, armed.

The archer was one of the smaller men in the group, but still larger than her, standing a good head taller. He seemed nimble, too, light on his feet as he jumped back when Bonnie approached him, watching her with a curious look.

It didn't take long for him to lose all trepidation when he realized his opponent was a small woman. This was the mistake every man made, Bonnie knew—they underestimated her, thinking she was weak, lacking the skill they did. But Bonnie's father had made sure his daughters knew how to defend themselves against foes twice their size. The biggest mistake they all made was to underestimate them.

Bonnie's vision narrowed down to that man, taking in his stance and the way he gripped his knife. With a feint to the right, Bonnie forced the man to guard his left side and quickly shifted hands, switching her blade to the left with the goal of putting an end to this as soon as possible. The man was quick and perceptive, noticing the change in hands—he was just a fraction too late.

Bonnie's blade pierced through the man's flesh right under his ribs. For a moment, he seemed to be surprised by the pain, as though he couldn't believe he had been struck at all. His eyes were wide as he stared up at Bonnie, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Even if the man was the enemy, even if he would have harmed her, she couldn't stomach the fact that she was responsible for his death.

With a grunt, she pulled the blade out of him and let him fall to the ground, his blood seeping into the earth. There was no time for her to consider what she had done, to give the man any more thought. Instead, she grabbed his bow and arrows, stringing one and swiftly turning to the men fighting Evan.

She noticed too late that the sounds of the fight had stopped. It wasn't until she took in the sight before her that she realized Evan had already been overpowered and that she, too, was too late in the end.

Two of the men from the crew were holding his head under the water as Evan jerked and flailed, trying to push them off. Water sloshed everywhere around them, soaking all three men, but the more Evan tried, the more he tired himself out. Bonnie could see it in the way his movements turned weak, his legs barely holding his body up, his arms going slacker with every passing moment.

"Unhand him!" she shouted, training her bow at the larger of the two men. "Unhand him or I will shoot!"

The men only laughed and Bonnie's hands trembled with rage and fear for Evan's life. Her blood rushed hot in her veins, every part of her demanding revenge.

"I already killed one o' ye!" she said and it was then that their laughter died, as they saw their fellow soldier lying dead on the ground.

"But can ye kill us all?"

Bonnie looked at the man. He was still holding Evan under the water and he seemed unfazed to have Bonnie's arrow pointing right at him. In front of her eyes, Evan slowly went still, all the fight draining out of him, and she realized she had no other choice.

There were too many men for her to fight on her own. Even if she was shooting her bow from a distance, there was only so far, she could get before one of them grabbed her. There was no time for her to get to Evan, to pull him out of the water. Her only chance was to beg them to let him live.

Slowly, she lowered her weapon, her stomach churning at the sight of that man grinning in satisfaction. It sickened her to see just how much he was enjoying inflicting this torture on her, on Evan.

"Unhand him," she said once more. Before the man could answer, though, and before Bonnie could demand Evan's release again, a dull thud echoed in her head, a skull-splitting pain radiating all over from her crown.

Within mere seconds, the world went black. The last thing she heard was the laughter of those men, cold and cruel, like the rattle of bones.

Evan squinted against the light in the room that, for a brief moment, seemed blinding, even though it was nothing more than a few burning torches. He blinked in confusion, trying to place the room, but it was not one he recognized.

He was not home.

Slowly, the rest of his senses caught up. His lungs ached, his back ached, and the skin on his wrists burned where it had chafed. He was bound on a chair, he realized, hands behind its back, the knots so tight that the rope was digging harshly into his flesh and even the slightest movement was enough to irritate his skin.

His head was heavy, as if it was made of lead. With great effort, he looked to one side, seeing nothing that could help him. Then, he rolled it to the other, and it was then that he truly woke, the sight alarming him into full consciousness.

It was Bonnie. She, too, was bound and her head had lolled forward, the strands of hair that had escaped her updo concealing most of her face. The only indication that she still lived was the slow rise and fall of her chest, and Evan breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted it. At least she was still alive. At least there was still hope.

"Yer awake. Good."

A familiar voice spoke behind him. The memories rushed back to him—Ruthven's men attacking, Evan trying to fight them off just so Bonnie could escape their clutches, two of them holding him underwater until he lost consciousness.

So, he was once again in Ruthven's castle, only this time, escape seemed unlikely.

Does he ken everythin', then? How did he find out?

Even as Ruthven walked around him, coming to stand right in front of him, Evan ignored him. He had no desire to hear whatever the man had to say. He'd rather Ruthven kill him than subject him to his endless talking.

Instead, he focused his attention on Bonnie, calling her name gently a few times to try and wake her. He wished to reach for her, to cradle her in his arms, but he couldn't get out of his bonds, tight as they were. Ruthven's men had completely immobilized his hands.

"Bonnie," he said, trying once more, but still, Bonnie remained unconscious.

With an impatient sigh, Ruthven approached Bonnie, his boots thundering against the stone floor.

"Nay!" Evan shouted; his rage so strong that it threatened to choke him. "Dinnae dare touch her."

Ruthven ignored him without sparing him a single glance. He grabbed Bonnie and shook her roughly, forcing her to wake with a gasp, her body jerking in panic in his grip as she looked at her unfamiliar surroundings.

"There," Ruthven said, taking a few steps back from them both.

"I'm here," Evan told Bonnie, leaning as close as he could towards her. "I'm here, Bonnie. It's alright. Everythin' will be alright."

Slowly, hearing his voice, Bonnie calmed down and glared up at Ruthven, a muscle in her jaw twitching as she ground her teeth. Evan could only wish there was something he could do, anything to comfort her, to reassure her that everything would work out in the end, but even he couldn't promise that.

How could he, when they were in enemy territory, with no one there to help them? This time, Ruthven was bound to do anything in his power to keep them both there.

"How is it that ye thought I wouldnae find out the truth?" Ruthven asked as he began to pace back and forth in front of them. "How did ye think I would ever believe ye were cousins?"

Evan glanced at Bonnie from the corner of his eye, only to see her giving him the same guilty look. He supposed neither of them had been particularly subtle with the way they had been acting around each other.

"So, ye ken," Evan said. "An' we ken what ye have done. We ken ye've been workin' with Baliol. An' we've spread the word tae all our allies."

Ruthven didn't seem surprised by this reveal, nor did he seem concerned. "Aye, I am workin' with Baliol. In fact, I've been workin' with him fer a while now, gatherin' information on the clans fer him . . . with our King's support, o' course."

"He isnae me King," Evan said, spitting on the floor in front of Ruthven's feet. "An' Baliol willnae be in power fer long."

"That is what ye think," said Ruthven, giving Evan a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes. "But once I wed Bonnie, I'll have all the gold an' men I need tae solidify our power."

Evan's blood ran cold, his heart seizing. He could not believe that after everything, Ruthven was still planning to marry Bonnie, but perhaps he shouldn't have been so surprised. He was still after the security Clan MacLaren could offer him. He just didn't understand that he would never get their help.

"Laird MacLaren will never help ye," he said. Why would Macauley do anything that would aid Ruthven's cause? He, too, wanted Baliol gone as much as Evan did and knowing him and Cathleen, they would rage a war against Ruthven to get Bonnie back to safety.

"Then I will kill him an' the clan will be mine," Ruthven said. From the corner of his eye, Evan saw Bonnie stiffen, panicking at the threat, but once again, there was nothing he could do to reassure her.

"Bonnie will refuse," Evan said, hands straining against his bonds in an attempt to loosen them. "What will ye dae with an unwillin' bride? Sooner or later, everyone will ken she despises ye."

The first punch was one Evan hadn't predicted. Ruthven marched up to him, fist swinging, and Evan's head snapped to the side with the force of the blow, his nose taking the worst of it with a sickening crunch. Instantly, blood pooled in his mouth, the coppery taste of it making him wince, and he spat as much as he could out, glaring up at Ruthven.

The second blow was one he anticipated, and yet the pain was still excruciating as it spread over Evan's face, rattling his skull. Ruthven was no weak man and Evan had little choice other than to sit there, bound on the chair, receiving punch after punch as Ruthven took all his frustrations out on him, his fist colliding with Evan's face so many times that he quickly lost count.

"Stop!" he heard Bonnie scream next to him, her voice pleading and broken, the word morphing into a sob. "Stop it! Ye'll kill him!"

It was a cowardly way to kill someone, Evan thought distantly. First trying to drown him and then beating him while he was bound, unable to defend himself. But then again, Ruthven seemed like a coward.

"Stop! I'll dae anythin' ye want!" screamed Bonnie as another punch landed on Evan's face. He couldn't tell where the previous pain stopped and the new one began. It was all a fog, his ears buzzing, his vision going dark at the edges. "I'll marry ye!"

It was only then that Ruthven stopped but Evan was anything but glad about it. "Nay," he tried to say, but all that came out was a quiet exhale, the word never making it past his lips.

"I'll marry ye willingly if ye let him live," Bonnie said and Evan could hear the tremble in her voice, the panic that threatened to overcome her. "I'll give ye what ye want. But only if ye let him live."

Evan's head fell back the moment Ruthven let go of him, taking a few steps back and flexing his injured fingers. With a groan, Evan turned to look at Bonnie in a silent plea for her to stop.

"Nay," he mouthed again and again, hoping she would listen to him.

But Bonnie wasn't looking at him. She was looking at laird Ruthven, gaze pleading and eyes brimming with tears.

"Guards!" Ruthven called. In an instant, two guards entered the room, ready to receive his orders. "Take Miss MacLaren tae her chambers. She must prepare fer our weddin'."

It was then that Evan found his voice once more, even quiet and hoarse as it was when he said, "Nay! Bonnie, dinnae dae it, I beg ye. I beg ye, leave this place."

Turning that desperate gaze on him, Bonnie shook her head. "I love ye," she said. "I'm sorry."

Then she was gone, the guards dragging her along down the corridor as Ruthven followed them. The last thing Evan saw before he was left alone was Ruthven's victorious, mocking smile.