Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

E rrol was the first to reach the bloodied woman and lifted her into his arms as Gavin came up beside him, scowling, his gaze riveted upon the sea.

“Nothing…no sails, no ships—damn the bastards! Where are they ?”

Errol had no answer for him, the woman moaning so piteously that he felt certain she was near death.

Her clothing and legs smeared with dried blood that sickened him to see it—his mind jumping to the torment Tira had suffered.

Yet to his surprise Gavin took the woman from him, none too gently, and strode with her back into the bailey, Errol following close behind.

His astonishment only increased when Gavin shouted for his men to shut and bar the gates, his commands ringing out around them.

“Guards on the ramparts, keep watch for any suspicious movement among the rocks and along the beach!”

“You two, fetch my bairns from the garden and return them tae the keep!”

“The rest of you dress in your armor and prepare for an imminent attack!”

No sooner had Gavin finished the last order than he dumped the woman unceremoniously upon the ground and unsheathed his sword to point the deadly weapon at her throat.

Her eyes wide and her face flushed, she stared up at him with as much surprise as Errol felt at Gavin’s harsh treatment—though the sudden tightening of her jaw made Errol realize that all was not as it had first appeared.

“ Who are you ?” Gavin demanded, his scowl all the darker. “What ruse are you playing?”

“I-I dinna know what you mean, Laird. I told your men I escaped from raiders—ah, God, look at me! If I hadna struck with a rock the brute having his way with me and then run into the woods, I would be dead by now from their ravishment?—”

“By God, you lie! From the amount of blood staining your tunic, your legs, you would have been dead already with no strength left tae climb the hill tae these gates! Do you think me a fool? Tell me why you’re here or I swear, you’ve only a moment more tae draw breath!”

She gasped at the harshly uttered threat, Gavin’s sword pressed now to the base of her throat as angry tears filled her eyes.

“My village far tae the north was attacked two weeks ago and many were killed, but I chose tae live by becoming Thorgren’s woman—aye, Thorgren Sigurdson, the famed Orkney raider! I was tae be his wife, his queen! Me , Roslin MacRae, a fisherman’s daughter—but now I will be nothing, so kill me, I dinna care?—”

“Not good enough, he sent you here for a reason,” Errol interjected, his fists clenched with fury as Gavin lowered his sword and reached down to haul her to her feet.

“Aye, for what reason?” he echoed as Roslin glanced from him to Errol and back again with her dark eyes narrowed and her chin lifted as if taunting them.

“He wants his son…and the wench dead who bore him, Tira Cheyne. I was tae cut her throat and threaten tae kill the babe, too, if you wouldna allow me through the gates so I could return tae him?—”

“ My son now, you fiend from hell,” Errol cut her off again, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. “My wife now, Tira Sutherland, who you intended tae murder. Dinna dare tae utter her name again or I will?—”

“What? Cleave my head from my neck? I told you already tae kill me! Do you think I can return tae Thorgren now that I’ve failed him?”

“ Silence !” Gavin’s face ruddy with fury, he shook the woman so roughly that Errol swore he heard her teeth rattling—and now for the first time she appeared truly afraid instead of defiant as she gaped at Gavin.

“Save your bold words for your clansmen who will decide your fate when you’re returned tae your village. Do you envision a swift death for your treachery or a slow tortuous one? Not a queen tae them at all, but the willing whore of a raider who killed and maimed and burned?—”

“No, please, dinna send me back there, I beg you!” Trembling now, Roslin fell to her knees, though Gavin still tightly clutched her arm. “What do you want of me? I will do anything you ask…ah, God.”

She choked now upon sobs that did nothing to ease Gavin’s fearsome expression, or Errol’s. He glanced at Gavin, who indicated with a nod that Errol should be the one to speak.

“You will take us tae Thorgren.”

Roslin’s sobs ceased and her face blanched white, but she bobbed her head in agreement as Errol drew closer.

“How many ships? Two?”

“A-aye…with sixty men. Thorgren found a sheltered cove along a river north of here?—”

“So they have been close all along,” Gavin said as Errol nodded, feeling sickened this time that he and Lorne and Gavin’s men hadn’t searched the area more thoroughly.

“You didna have enough warriors with you tae fight them,” Gavin murmured as if reading Errol’s mind. “We do now, Sutherland…which is all that matters. Tell us, woman, did you walk here alone or did raiders accompany you?”

“Only through the woods, a half dozen men, and then they turned back. I was tae demand a horse so I could return quickly tae where the ships are anchored.”

“After you killed my wife and stole our son, aye?”

Roslin nodded, her face grown even paler at the quiet fury in Errol’s voice.

“Do you bear a knife?”

“N-no, but I was ready tae do whatever I needed tae honor Thorgren’s wishes.”

“God help us.”

Errol couldn’t stomach hearing anything further, and turned away as Ambrose reached them, the old healer gasping aloud when he saw Roslin.

“So much blood…and yet you live?”

“Not mine,” came her muted answer. “A slaughtered doe.”

“I-I dinna understand,” began Ambrose, only for Gavin to spit into the dirt with disgust.

“A foul ruse, man…but we’ve no more time for talking.” Yanking Roslin by the arm toward three grim-faced warriors standing nearby, he thrust her at them. “Search her for any weapons, aye, strip her naked if you must—and then hold her until we’re ready tae ride.” Then Gavin bellowed above a rumble of thunder, “Prepare for battle, men, we’ve some accursed raiders tae hunt down!”

“Cora, what is happening?” Out of breath from rushing down the tower steps, Tira squeezed through a group of servants standing at the open doorway to reach Cora, who stood just outside with Sinclair and Maud clutched against her.

Tira had heard the commotion, too, that reached the peaceful confines of the nursery, but she hadn’t followed after Cora until Isobel and Monroe were safely snuggled in their cradles.

Now Tira could but stare, wide-eyed, at the bailey filled with snorting horses and mounted warriors as Gavin shouted above the melee for the massive castle gates to be opened.

Her heart beating in her throat at the somber glance Cora gave her, a deafening crack of thunder made Tira jump.

“Do you see that dark-haired woman seated in front of Errol? She was sent here by Thorgren tae kill you and steal your son, but thank God, Gavin saw through her ruse. They go now tae attack the raiders—some across land and others by ship tae thwart any escape. Och, Tira, pray that our husbands prevail. Pray hard .”

Tira was praying, her throat tightened at this news, unshed tears near blinding her.

Her stricken gaze followed Errol as he rode alongside Gavin through the gates until they were gone from her view…and even then, she stood as if rooted while a host of warriors followed after, until the bailey was empty.

Even so, she could hear the thundering of hooves down the hill to where Gavin’s warships were docked while other horses pounded to the north. Was Errol mayhap among those men riding overland? She hadn’t even a chance to embrace him before he left for battle or to tell him that she loved him—aye, she loved him more than life!

Trembling now from head to foot, Tira would have remained there as cold raindrops began to pelt the dirt if Cora hadn’t taken her by the forearm to lead her back inside.

Maud clutched her mother’s skirt and wept as Sinclair ran ahead of them, though he spun around to shout with childish bluster, “One day I will ride with Papa tae slay our enemies—och, Maud, cease your crying! You’re a warrior’s daughter!”

“Aye, and you’re a warrior’s wife,” Tira murmured under her breath as she cast a glance at Cora to see tears welled in her eyes, too.

Yet Cora seemed to swallow them back and Tira did the same, the door closing behind them with a resounding thud.

“You saw them carry Roslin into the bailey?” Thorgren queried one of the men who had just returned to the secluded cove, their cloaks dripping wet from the steady rain.

“Aye, at once, Thorgren. Your plan is working?—”

“Mayhap…and mayhap not. By Odin, what madness overcame me tae entrust so important a task tae a woman—and a Scotswoman at that?” Cursing so vehemently that the man seemed to blanch, Thorgren demanded, “What took you so long tae return?”

“W-we lost our way in the woods?—”

“Not surprising, you’re raiders, not landsmen. Get back tae the ship.”

The man nodded, nearly running into a tree in his haste while the other five men who had accompanied Roslin obliged Thorgren as well, which made him mutter another curse.

How long would it take her to do what he had commanded? He imagined she would have been treated by now for her feigned injury, and then would wait for the right moment to find Tira and his son—aye, a wild plan, a dangerous plan, but what other choice was there?

Infiltrating a fortified castle wasn’t anything akin to attacking an unprotected and vulnerable village, and required audacious courage that Roslin clearly possessed or he would never have sent her on such a mission.

What other woman had ever run to him with her village in flames behind her and jumped into his arms to kiss him full on the mouth, and demand that he take her with him?

Thorgren grunted at the stirring memory, his loins tightening as he stared into the woods from the mossy riverbank, water dripping down his nose.

His own heavy cloak was soaking wet, but what matter? He felt enlivened by the rainy weather and the brisk coolness in the air, his thoughts jumping ahead to that moment of triumph when he would finally hold his infant son in his arms.

He would name the boy Ragnor after his father, as renowned and feared an Orkney raider as Thorgren, and Roslin would become his buxom bride?—

“By the gods, what ?” Thorgren stood stock-still as another branch snapped a short distance away, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword.

Surely it was too soon for Roslin to return on horseback…though mayhap she had accomplished her mission more boldly and quickly than he could have imagined?—

“Three warships approaching from the west, Thorgren!”

He spun to face the river and cursed as he drew his sword, even as the thundering of hooves came from the woods behind him—making him twist back around.

He heard his men shouting and at once, it seemed he was flanked by a host of them with their weapons brandished to face the onslaught he knew was coming.

He heard a feminine scream, too, Roslin raising her voice to warn him, but it was too late. Too late !

Now Thorgren roared in defiance—a wild enraged bellow echoing his Norse ancestors as sword-wielding Highlanders burst through the trees astride their horses and mowed down the nearest raiders.

Within an instant, Thorgren knew he and his men were outnumbered. He spun on his heel to run toward the nearest of his two beached ships already being heaved by other raiders into deeper water.

Such an escape had succeeded for him before, Thorgren shouting over his shoulder, “Fight tae the death, Orkneymen!” to the ones closing ranks behind him amidst the clash of swords and screams of the dying.

With one wild lunge, Thorgren grabbed for the railing to hoist himself aboard, only to feel himself pulled backward by his sodden cloak into water that splashed around him.

Roaring with rage and still clutching his sword, Thorgren struggled to his feet to face a red-haired Highlander who stared at him with pure hatred in his eyes.

“By Odin, you’re too young a man tae be Gavin MacLachlan, the famed devil of the sea, so who are you?” Thorgren spat as he tried to find better footing in the shifting sand while his scowling opponent slowly circled him.

“Errol Sutherland, and you’re a vile coward tae leave your men tae fight and die while you escape, but you’ve failed this time—in all ways. Tira is alive and well and my wife now, and the twins she bore are mine tae raise, aye, a fine son and daughter who will bear my name and never know you existed?—”

“Damn you, man, my son !” Enraged, Thorgren swung his sword so viciously that he nearly lost his balance, Roslin shrieking in dismay and suddenly splashing through knee-deep water to reach him.

“ Thor —!”

Her outcry cut off as cleanly as he slashed her throat, Thorgren swore at her as Roslin sank, wide-eyed, into bloodied water.

“Whore! Did you think I would reward you any other way for your failure?”

“ Fiend ! Did you think you would die any other way than by my sword?”

Thorgren gasped at the weapon plunging into his abdomen, impaling him before he could lift his own weapon to counter his opponent’s blow.

Blood and entrails spilled from him as he sank, too, into the swirling water beside Roslin’s corpse…the blackness of death enveloping him.

“So it is done.”

His breathing harsh, Errol glanced at Gavin, who strode through the scarlet-tinged foam to his side.

“Aye, it is done.” Sickened by the hulking look of the man who had caused Tira such horror, Errol turned his head and retched into the water…Gavin clapping him on the shoulder when he straightened to wipe his mouth.

“His blood mixed with vomit, a fitting end.” Then to his warriors who stood at the shoreline among the dead raiders’ bodies and those still living rounded up and held at sword point, Gavin said tightly, “Kill them and burn their ships. No more mercy than they granted on their accursed raids, aye?”

Errol nodded as screams of disbelief rent the air, no pity in his heart at all…only a burning thirst for vengeance finally satisfied.

For Tira.