Chapter 14

Beneath the plaid, Bonny wagged her tail against the straw tick. Roderic whispered to her, stroking her face and pulling the woolen over her head.

Thunder shattered the stillness but very little light invaded the room.

He stroked the hound's face again, waiting for the quiet to return. In the darkness, he checked the tautness of the plaid he had tied around Bonny's neck and run beneath the mattress. It felt solid enough to hold her for a few moments at least.

Sending a silent prayer to his maker, Roderic reviewed his plans. When all was ready, he rose.

Taking a deep breath, he waited a moment and shrieked, "Nay!" in a terrified tone that fairly shook the roof. In a moment, he was flying silently across the room to press his back against the wall beside the portal's hinges.

There was the sound of someone bumping to wakefulness, and then the door burst open.

“Forbes!" Bullock called. Through the crack between the door and the wall, Roderic could make out the broad warrior's form. Though his features were sleepy, his sword was drawn.

Diffused light fell across his tousled hair and onto the bright MacGowan tartan that covered the lumpy mattress. Beneath the woolen, Bonny wriggled wildly.

"Forbes!" Bullock called again.

"What is it?" Gilbert gasped, pressing in beside his partner.

"'Tis Forbes," Bullock snorted, his tone calmer now as he shook his head. "Another of his damnable dreams I would guess. Ye stay here. I will shake him awake."

Roderic tensed. Bullock strode forward.

Bonny wiggled. The plaid fell aside, exposing her long, furry head. Bullock gasped at the same time Roderic threw his weight against the portal, slamming Gilbert against the wall.

There was a shriek, a gasp, a curse, and a howl. But suddenly, Gilbert's sword was in Roderic's hand, and Gilbert's back was pressed against his captor's chest.

No one breathed.

Bullock raised his arms carefully, sword tilted downward. "The hound took yer blanket?" he guessed cautiously. "And ye want yet another?"

Roderic granted him a grin for his humor. "I fear me complaint is more serious than that tanight, lads," he said.

"Ye want fresh bandages for yer wound?"

"I must leave," Roderic said.

"Good riddance ta ye," gasped Gilbert. "May auld horny himself go with ye."

Roderic's smile increased. "Will ye never believe that I had nothing ta do with Simon's death?"

The room was silent for a moment "'Tis a strange one ye be, Forbes. That I say."

"Well, I didna," said Roderic, and moving quickly, he shoved Gilbert away.

He crashed forward, nearly ramming into Bullock, who steadied him with his hands.

Upon the mattress, Bonny slipped from her woolen tether to bound across the room to the door.

"And neither will I harm yer lady if ye do what I say."

Thunder rumbled like a feral growl through the heavens. Lightning crackled. In the scattered light, Roderic could see the guards' faces pale.

"Nay." Bullock shook his head and carefully hefted his sword. "Ye willna harm her for ye willna touch her, Forbes."

"’Tis sad I am ta worry ye," disagreed Roderic gently. "But she will leave with me. I only ask that ye do me bidding, so that she may remain safe. Promise ta keep quiet."

The guards' mouths fell open in unison.

"I will tek your word as yer bond," he said solemnly. "If ye promise na ta call for help until the dawn, I willna harm her in any way."

Thunder crashed, followed by stunned silence.

Bullock watched him with narrowed eyes. "I dunna think ye will harm her anyway, Forbes," he said softly. "Or else why go through the effort of saving her from Bruid today?"

Roderic canted his head in concession. "’Tis the truth ye speak, Bullock. I couldna harm her. But I tell ye, if ye vow ta keep still until morn, I will see her safely returned ta ye. If na..." He shrugged. "The Forbeses have the power ta hold her forever."

"'Twould be better for us if ye bumped us on the head and tossed us from the window," said Gilbert. "For when the others find her gone, they will surely do worse ta us."

"The others is the reason I am taking her, for I know na who she can trust. But I have a message for the Wolfhound. Tell him that if he had any sense, he would have had ye guarding the Flame instead of guarding the Rogue. And tell him…" He grinned, feeling the exhilaration of impending freedom wash over him. "Tell him that I wish it had been he guarding the door. For it would have made na difference. When Roderic the Rogue decides ta leave, he leaves." Thrusting the sword beneath his belt, he gripped his plaid near his chest and drew a deep breath. "Do I have yer vow of silence?"

"Aye." Their acquiescence came reluctantly, but it came.

"Good lads. I willna forget your cooperation." Without shifting his gaze from the two by the mattress, Roderic retrieved his boots and backed away. In a moment, the door was barred behind him.

Bonny laughed up into his face. Thunder cracked again. Roderic shoved the tops of his boots beneath the strap of his sporran. They dangled against his backside, leaving his feet bare and silent. Stealth was a necessity if he hoped to live out the night.

Silently, he moved down the stairs. The hall appeared much the same as always in the dim light. With a signal from her beloved, Bonny sat at the bottom of the steps and waited as her master slipped across the hall.

Marjory again slept before her mistress's door. Wasting no time, Roderic stepped over her and lifted the latch. The shutters were closed against the wild weather, and the fire had burned down, leaving the room steeped in darkness. He made his way to the draped bed. His heart was beating rapidly now. Whether it was caused by his own furtive mission or Flanna's proximity, he wasn't certain.

Memories of seeing her abed numbed Roderic's senses. He wished he had time to delay, to wake her slowly. To stroke her hair and soothe her, for though she seemed the fearless leader of the MacGowans, she was a woman at heart, soft and fragile and sweet.

"Move and you'll wear my dirk between your ribs." Her words came from behind him and were spoken through gritted teeth in a low and angry voice.

"Lass?" Roderic questioned, remembering, a bit belatedly, that sometimes she was sweeter than others. "Is that ye?" he asked, turning slightly.

"Do not move if ye value your life."

He did and found that her dirk was just as sharp as the last time he had encountered it. It was placed between two ribs about halfway down his back. 'Twould be an ugly wound if she but thrust a bit harder.

Roderic shook his head gently. "Nay, lass, I wouldna even consider moving. I may never move again. In fact, if ye like, I could—"

"Shut up!" she said, thrusting the dirk a bit harder against his back.

He nodded once. "I could do that, too."

Thunder crackled, then rumbled to silence.

"How did ye escape?"

"Well..." Roderic cleared his throat. He had been quite clever really and didn't mind relating his exploits to an appreciative audience. "I—"

"How did ye get past Marjory?"

He opened his mouth to speak again.

"What the devil are ye doing here?"

"Which of those would ye like answered first, lass?"

"Ply me with your glib tongue and I'll feed ye to the hounds, Forbes."

"Most unsavory. Are ye fully dressed?"

The knife was pressed in earnest now and she gripped his hair in her other hand. "Why are ye here?"

"Is it the truth ye wish for, lass?"

"The truth or your death."

He nodded once. "The truth is, I couldna keep meself from ye any longer." He paused, expecting her to speak, but she did not. "Every moment away from ye is torture. Each night is an eternity. Yer presence is me very breath." Raising his arm, he gripped his plaid over his chest. "The very beat of me heart."

Silence echoed in the room.

" 'Twas ye that left the note?" Her voice was low and husky.

"The truth again, lass?" he asked softly.

"The truth."

He turned carefully to glance over his shoulder at her. "Aye. 'Twas me."

"Ye lie?" The knife had slipped away a bit She pressed it harder, but now Roderic wondered if he felt it tremble slightly. "There is no way ye could have escaped the tower. Not alone. Who aided ye?"

"Yer beauty aided me. None other."

"Ye lie!"

Roderic arched his back away from the knife and grimaced. "Well, that I do, lass. But na at this moment. I had na aid. For me desire for ye canna be bound. Na matter how thick the walls or how high the tower."

"Do not speak to me in the deceitful tongue of the gallant knight. I have heard the words before."

He didn’t mean to turn. In fact, he had every intention of remaining immobile, of not frightening her. But the thought of her in another's arms was unbearable and suddenly he twisted about. While managing to avoid the blade, he gripped her wrist in his hand.

"But ye heard them from the wrong man," he breathed.

She ceased her struggling and stared into his eyes. "Why are ye here?" she whispered.

Lightning crackled, but whether it occurred beyond the walls or inside the chamber neither could be certain.

"I am here for ye, lass."

Beneath the simple, saffron shirt, her breasts rose and fell with each rapid inhalation.

Every good intention slipped away, every fine sense of self-control and good sense. Despite it all, he kissed her. Her lips met his in a hard clash of emotion. Against his chest, he could feel the warm crush of her breasts.

Dear Gawd, she tasted like heaven and felt the same. Moving his hand onto her back, he moaned and pulled her closer and let his kisses slip to her throat. "Lass," he groaned.

"Roderic!" she gasped, trembling.

"Lady?" Marjory called, knocking at the portal.

Their eyes popped open. They stared at each other from mere inches away, finding sanity with a jolt.

"Lady?" Marjory called again. "Are ye well?"

"I leave tanight," Roderic whispered. "And ye will go with me."

Flame's lips parted soundlessly.

"Lady?" Marjory's tone was distraught now.

"There has been a bit of trouble in the stable," Roderic called in a voice he hoped did not sound like his own. "Lochan is unwell."

"Who's in there?" Marjory gasped.

"If ye play the game with me, none will be hurt," Roderic whispered. "Otherwise, I can guarantee naught."

Flanna's body was stiff in his arms.

"Do ye hear me?" he asked, easing the dirk from her fingers.

"Do not fret, Marjory," she called. "Lochan but kicks at his belly. Gilbert came to tell me."

Roderic nodded his approval, then turned her about and nudged her across the floor toward the door. It opened silently beneath his hand.

"Me lady?" Marjory questioned.

"Sleep," Flame ordered. "I will be back soon."

"Aye ..." The maidservant sounded dubious but did not move from her spot near the door.

Roderic tilted his head downward, hoping his borrowed bonnet would hide his features. The steps were cold against his bare feet The hall was typically quiet as they stepped into it. From the stairwell opposite them, Bonny whined. Roderic motioned to her and she came, bounding joyously through the dried rushes with the stealth of a crashing herd of swine.

Roderic winced.

“Lady Flame?'' grumbled William, sitting up near the dwindling fire. "Is somemat amiss?"

She was silent for a moment. Roderic squeezed her, arm in warning.

"'Tis only Lochan's disquiet. I go to soothe him."

"I will come with ye. 'Tis na a fit night."

Roderic squeezed harder.

"Nay," she said quickly. "In truth, I couldna sleep anyway. I need some time alone in the stable. Go back to sleep."

"Ye are sure?"

She nodded.

"As ye wish," William said, and lay back down.

They moved on as a single unit, with Roderic walking close behind her. "Verra good, lass."

She didn't respond.

Outside, fat drops of rain splattered against their faces. 'Twas a wicked night to escape, thought Roderic, but he had gone too far to turn back now.

The stable door creaked open. Even within the confines of the bailey, the wind gripped it so that Roderic struggled to pull it closed.

Bright torchlight greeted them.

“Lady!'' Three men rose abruptly. Dice tumbled to the blanket beneath them. "What brings ye out? Who—?"

"Dunna move!" Roderic warned, gripping Flame's arm from behind. "Na if ye dunna want to see her hurt."

The men froze. "Forbes!" gasped one. "How—?"

"Though I would be glad ta relate me cleverness," began Roderic, "I fear there is na time. For I must leave and yer lady will go with me."

"Over me own dead body!" gritted one warrior, grabbing a nearby sword.

"Nay," Roderic said, slipping Flame's dirk from his belt. "Over her dead body."

Not a soul moved.

"Verra good. I need a horse readied. You, with the bonnet. Fetch a mount," Roderic ordered.

The man moved stiffly away. Taking a rope from a peg on the wall, he opened the stall door and latched the lead on to the steed's head collar.

"You," Roderic said, nodding to the next man in line, "get the saddle and..."

But suddenly the stall door was swung open. The first warrior ducked behind it and came up with his bow already bent. An arrow whizzed past Roderic's head. Roaring with rage, he pushed Flanna behind him and swung his sword at the lantern on the wall.

It flew from its peg, landing on the woolen blanket and plunging the stable into darkness.

A man yelled and sprang for him. Not wishing to kill anyone, Roderic swung his fist. It thudded against askull. A body fell. The loose horse skittered down the aisle. Grasping Flanna's arm, Roderic yanked her nearer and grabbed the stallion's flying rope.

In an instant, they were outside. "Get on!" he rasped.

Flame moved toward the horse, but suddenly her elbow caught him in the side and she pivoted away. He dropped the sword and grabbed wildly for her with both hands. His fingers tangled in her hair. She stopped with a shriek of pain, but now his hand found her wrist and he yanked her forward, grabbed her by the waist, and tossed her aboard the stallion's back.

Aided by pumping excitement and the sure knowledge that he had only one chance to escape with her, Roderic swung up behind. Gripping her against his chest, he forced the steed into a gallop.

"Let down the bridge," he roared.

"Who goes there? What be yer business?" gasped a gnarled voice.

"'Tis yer lady's life!" growled Roderic. "Let down the bridge or she dies."

The bridge creaked downward. Behind them, men yelled and swarmed across the bailey.

"Gawd's wrath!" Roderic swore. Thumping his heels against the stallion's sides, he forced the steed back into a gallop. The bridge had not yet reached the opposite shore, but the great beast thundered up, reached the end, and launched itself from its summit to the earth below. Its hind feet hit the rushing burn. His knees buckled, throwing his riders onto his neck. Roderic gripped the mane, holding Flame tightly against his body and urging the stallion to his feet.

"Let it down! Down!" someone yelled.

But in an instant, the stallion found his footing and flew into the night.