Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

E ven though they were many, they had travelled like the wind across country. Edan led the way with Darach by his side, everyone else following behind. The only stops they had taken were to rest the horses.

Half an hour before, they had circled the village he and Caitlyn had rested in when they had escaped. Given the fact that they had been travelling on foot that day, he knew, as he rounded the edge of the woods they had used as cover, that they were quite close by. As they neared the place, Edan had signaled for them to slow, until eventually, they came to a stop.

He signaled for Alistair to come to the front, and when his war chief was beside him, he told him the plan.

"If this is a trap, like we assume, MacTavish will have the outskirts of the house surrounded. Send out yer best scouts and have them report back. Tell them tae hurry."

"Aye, me laird."

Alistair turned his horse and headed back the way he had come. Kieran took his place at his side. "What are ye planning tae dae?"

Conor and Darach were close behind, and with his voice lowered, he spoke to all of them.

"We cannae spook him. If MacTavish kens we're coming, he'll murder Caitlyn fer sure. If he thinks he's safe, and has time, he'll…" Edan trailed off, unable to put his dreadful thoughts into words.

The rage had not left him since departing from the castle, but now, his impatience was growing. Every second longer they remained there, MacTavish could be doing the most unthinkable deeds to Caitlyn.

But they could not move. Not until the scouts came back with their report. It was just not a risk worth taking. As horrible as it was to think about, an assaulted Caitlyn was better than her being dead. Though, as he remembered the terrors she suffered in the night, Edan had to wonder if that thought were really true. If MacTavish had his way before they got there, she might wish herself dead.

Ten long minutes passed before the scouts returned. Alistair came back with the report. "As ye suspected, me laird, the periphery o' the house is surrounded in all directions."

"Send yer best men and get rid o' them," Alistair," Edan spat. "I need tae get near tae the house without MacTavish kenning we're here."

"Aye, me laird."

When Alistair left for a second time, another fifteen minutes passed. It was the longest fifteen minutes of Edan's life, and doubting that he had made the right choice, he began to feel edgy.

"Ye're doing the right thing, me laird," Kieran said calmly. He did not move his head when he spoke, and instead, remained looking ahead. Edan wondered how he could possibly know he was growing impatient, but clearly, he was betraying himself in some way. Either that, or Kieran had exceptional skills in perception. The latter would not surprise him, the man was a beast when it came to battle.

Eventually, Alistair returned for a second time. "The outer perimeter is secured, me laird."

"Good. Have all yer men surround the area. I dinnae want one o' them tae escape."

Alistair nodded, and moved away.

Edan then dismounted, and Kieran, Conor, Darach and Effie did the same. "I am going straight fer MacTavish," Edan said, gripping his sword tightly. "He'll be in the house. Ye deal with the guards outside."

Passing his own soldiers, who were now standing guard, Edan approached the house, with the others following close behind. As he had assumed when they were being held prisoners, the house was surrounded by trees, and out of the way of prying eyes, but in this instant, the thick foliage worked in their favor and gave them cover for their approach.

Gesturing for Darach to advance from the left, and Conor and Kieran to advance from the right, Edan watched as a few moments later, the three attacked the soldiers surrounding the house. It was at this second that he made a dash for the front door.

Sneaking inside, the first sound he heard was Caitlyn screaming at the top of her lungs. Not caring a wit if he might be seen, he flew around the corner to discover a guard standing outside the door, just as there had always been when they were being kept in there.

The guard jerked in shock at the sight of Edan advancing, but he was not quick enough to unsheathe his sword. Edan, on the other hand, had his in readiness, and wielding it above his head, brought it down heavily on the guard's neck, nearly separating his head from his shoulders.

Sliding the bolt open, he thrust his foot against the door with all his might, leaving his hands free to battle. But the sight before him halted him in his tracks, for MacTavish had Caitlyn pinned to the ground with her skirts around her waist. In that second, his anger and rage mixed with a sick feeling in his stomach.

A fleeting thought rushed through his mind. I'm too late. He has taken her. The damage has been done.

With Edan momentarily stunned, MacTavish scrambled to his feet, dragging Caitlyn up in front of him. Using her as a shield with a dirk to her throat, he dragged her across the room.

"Ye will let me out o' here, ye little bastard, or I swear, ye'll watch her die ‘afore yer very eyes," he spat.

At first, Edan railed against the idea, but his judgement settled. The dirk was already digging into Caitlyn's throat, for a trickle of blood dripped down her neck. He would just not be fast enough to kill MacTavish without him killing her first. While the laird was giving him no choice, Edan settled his worry, for by now, the guards the laird had positioned outside were already dead. MacTavish was not getting out of this alive.

As MacTavish circled the room, Edan followed closely, his sword poised in front of him, ready to strike at any moment. Caitlyn's eyes were wide with fear, glaring at Edan in a silent plea for help.

"Dinnae worry, Caitlyn. I'll nae let any harm come tae ye. I'm right here."

"Ye're a bit late fer that, lad," MacTavish spat. "Sure, I've had her already."

Edan flinched at those words, and seeing he had hit a nerve, MacTavish continued. "Och, aye. She was such a sweet and juicy thing."

The more MacTavish spoke, the angrier Edan got. It was taking him all his strength not to smite him there and then.

"She screamed me name, and?—"

"He's lying, Edan," Caitlyn was weirdly calm. "He didnae touch me. Dinnae let him play ye. He wants ye tae strike, so he can kill me."

By now, MacTavish was backing out of the corridor and nearing the front door, dragging Caitlyn with him. His hand gripped one side of her throat, while his dirk pressed against the other.

"Och, MacTavish is nae fool, Caitlyn. He kens if he kills ye, he has nae more protection. With nae more protection, he's a dead man."

"Och, we'll see about that, lad." MacTavish glanced behind him and seeing the front door, elbowed it open, and backed out into the front garden. "I have this place surrounded."

"Dae ye now?" Darach said.

MacTavish turned and gasped at the sight of all his men slaughtered on the ground. Like lightening, Kieran, seeing an opportunity, launched forward, grabbed Caitlyn's arm, and pulled her free. Leaving MacTavish suddenly looking terrified.

"Och, so ye're going tae outnumber me now, are ye," he spat.

Edan advanced, but shook his head. "It's just ye and me, MacTavish. Nae one else will intervene."

The laird snorted. "Aye, but if I kill ye, they will."

"Believe me, ye'll nae leave this place alive."

MacTavish stumbled backwards, spinning around warily, as though waiting for the others to move in, but when they didn't, he swiftly bent down and grabbed a sword that lay at one of his dead guard's feet.

"So, ye think ye can take me, dae ye lad?'

"I always have. But now, I have even greater want in me tae dae so." Edan could hear Caitlyn sobbing, but his eyes never left from glaring at MacTavish.

When the laird hesitated to engage, Edan ran at him, yelling at the top of his voice, his sword high above his head. MacTavish blocked him, the sound of clanging metal ringing out around them. Edan struck again, but MacTavish side-stepped the strike and then threw a blow of his own.

Edan saw it coming a mile off, and easily slipped beneath it, before swinging a full arm, and aiming at MacTavish's leg. The older man wasn't quick enough to block that one, and when Edan's sword sliced deeply into his calf, MacTavish cried out, and limped back.

Now hobbling with the pain, he tried to advance again, but he was no match for Edan's speed. Again he swung low, and sliced the upper thigh of the same leg.

"Ye bastard," MacTavish screamed.

But Edan did not stop, and weakened now in pain and unbalanced, MacTavish was no longer a threat. Instead of going for the kill, however, Edan sliced at him again and again. He wanted to make this man suffer, just as he had made Caitlyn and himself suffer. He caught his upper arm, his other leg, his lower arm, his torso, each strike eliciting a scream of pain, until the laird was on his knees.

He dropped the sword as blood poured from his body, pooling at his knees. With a terrifying scream, a scream that contained all his anger, and the frustration and hatred of what the man had made Caitlyn suffer, Edan swung the sword high, and struck him with great force at the neck. The sharp edges sliced through him with ease, removing his head from his shoulders completely.

The strike had to be final. He needed Caitlyn to see that this man was never going to lay a hand on her again. Exhausted, he dropped his sword, and spun around, looking for her. She was standing near the other men, still shaking tremendously.

Running to her, he grabbed her and pulled her into him. "I'm so sorry, me love," he whispered into her hair. "I should never have left ye. I'm so sorry."

He held her for some time, and slowly, her shaking turned to tremors, but still, he knew she would not be fully well for a while to come.

Conor approached then, and though he didn't want to release her, Edan handed over Caitlyn to her father. Holding her against his chest as Edan had done, he murmured. "He'll nae dae ye anymore harm, me darling."

Edan walked away, stumbling a little after the effort of the battle, but Darach and Kieran were there at his side, each taking an arm and supporting his weight.