Chapter Eighteen

" Y e want towers built, and aye, that can be done," Gilles said. "But it'll need ye meeting with the carpenter and his apprentices. And it'd do nae harm to include James—ye ken he can bring to life concepts as vague as build me a tower ."

Seated at the high table between Gilles and Torsten, while they broke their fast on the first Monday of September, Raina hid a smirk for the captain's seeming frustration over what he supposed was Torsten's ambiguity.

Torsten had mentioned the idea to her a few days ago, musing that neither her father nor any MacQueen before him had never built watch towers. Conceit might have been a reason, was Raina's suspicion though she did not say this.

Torsten believed the keep vulnerable—his effortless siege of Lochlan proved this—and desired that eventually Lochlan could defend itself from the west since the east posed no problem, having the sea and the cliff as its defense.

Raina listened to the two men discuss options, including the number of towers needed and whether they would entrust the job to the carpenter, as opposed to contracting masons and having them built of stone.

The morning sun cast a golden glow through the tall windows of the great hall, dappling the floor with patches of light. The air was filled with the comforting aromas of fresh bread, smoked fish, and stewed fruits. Raina picked leisurely at her breakfast, her gaze falling often upon Torsten. She enjoyed tremendously the tentative peace established between them but couldn't yet reconcile the gruff and capable leader, the man who gave ponderous thought to his ideas and sometimes snapped with impatience at the grunts of his army with the man who for many nights in a row now had loved her so tenderly, with infinite patience and a sometimes boyish charm.

"Monday it is and down to the beach with ye?" Gilles asked Raina when he'd concluded his discussion with Torsten.

"Yes," Raina replied, brushing crumbs from her hands and from the table in front of her. "It's Monday, and they'll be expecting their pay. I'll take care of it shortly."

Before Gilles could respond, the shrill blast of the alarm horn echoed through the hall, cutting through the peaceful morning like a knife. The great oak door burst open, and a de Graham soldier rushed in, his face tensed with urgency.

"Laird!" he called, making straight away for the high table. "Fire, laird. In the woodland beyond the cattle barns."

Torsten shot to his feet. "How bad is it?"

"It's nae guid, sir," the young man said. "The flames are spreading quickly, they're saying, threatening the buildings on the east side."

Torsten grumbled an expletive and faced Raina while Gilles and several other soldiers within hearing had stood and made for the door. "Dinna go to the beach with nae escort," he reminded her. "And mayhap stay close to the keep otherwise, until we have this under control."

Raina reached out, touching his hand lightly. "Be careful, Torsten. "

He nodded, squeezing her hand briefly before striding out of the hall, barking orders as he went. The courtyard beyond the open door buzzed with activity, soldiers hustling to follow his commands.

Raina watched Torsten leave and the hall empty of almost every person. A frown came to her, and she laid a hand over her stomach as a chill of unease settled over her, a gnawing sense of foreboding that turned her stomach. Refusing to entertain it and before she made her way down to the beach, she marched toward the kitchen, advising Cook of the fire and of her intention to prepare supplies for those fighting the fire.

"Let's ensure that we have available in the hall plenty of food, water, and ale for when the men return," she instructed.

She directed two of the kitchen lasses to set up two barrels in the courtyard, and fill them with water for washing, imagining soldiers' faces and hands coated in layers of ash and soot. "Have plenty of rags available as well as drying towels," she added.

She climbed the stairs next, in search of Peigi, whom she encountered on the second floor, carrying a small hammer in her hand.

"Fixed that bluidy shutter in the solar," Peigi said, explaining the tool's presence. "I was sick of listening to it bang all the live long day. Dinna ken how ye—"

"Peigi," Raina interrupted. "There's a fire in the woods, threatening the cattle barns, a fairly dangerous one it seems."

The hammer was dropped to her side. "Och. Shite."

"Exactly. Torsten took his army—I imagine whoever was near—and hopes to contain it. But I know you'll want to check on your husband and lads. "

Peigi shoved the hammer at Raina, who barely caught it before Peigi was off, skirts raised and running down the stairs.

"Be careful!" Raina called after her.

Of course she was very tempted to follow the housekeeper, but she knew her place was here. Torsten would never allow her to be of any use around a fire, she guessed, and knew that one more person when he had so large an army at his disposal would hardly make a difference. She turned and stepped into a rarely used guest chamber that faced the west, going directly to the window.

She pushed back the long and heavy tapestry that covered the window and peered through the narrow opening, spotting immediately a column of smoke rising in the distance. Below, closer to the keep, Peigi was seen sprinting through the open gate of the palisade and directly across rather than around the hundreds of de Graham army tents. The camp seemed deserted, scarcely more than a handful of soldiers milling about. Returning her gaze to the fire, she judged it neither too large nor too awful. The smoke was a thin column rising lazily into the sky, not too widespread. The flames were just a faint flicker, barely discernable from this distance and through the wall of trees at the far perimeter of the army's camp—more a suggestion of fire than a roaring blaze. Yet the sight of it, combined with her earlier unease, made her heart race.

Returning belowstairs, Raina busied herself with the household tasks, trying to keep her mind occupied and her worry at bay. The hours dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity.

She'd wanted to be inside when Torsten returned, but knew she'd put off long enough getting down to the beach. Deciding to complete that task and hopefully be returned in time to greet him, she searched out two soldiers to escort her. The keep and yard and the camp beyond the palisade, however, were eerily quiet; aside from Cook and a few lasses out front, watching the gray and white smoke waft up to the sky more than half a mile away, it was otherwise empty. Raina wondered if the fishermen were likewise distracted. Maybe they were not even upon the beach today.

They were, she realized, having scouted the beach from the top of the crag at the back of the keep.

Deciding the fire obviously posed little threat to the beach, Raina decided to carry on, but without the table and chair. Sure, it would make the disbursement more challenging—she'd have to sit in the sand and use her lap as a desktop—but she wasn't about to waste an extra half hour today toting the table and chair down there.

Raina collected the basket from the steward's office, which of late she employed more than anyone else. When she arrived outside the back door, she found the de Graham soldier, Samuel, who had accompanied her several times now to the beach.

"Samuel!" She called to him as he was making his way around to the front courtyard.

"Milady," he answered, his eyes lighting a bit as he turned and approached.

Lochlan's own might despise her, but she had to admit, the de Graham soldiers were unfailingly courteous to her.

"Good day, Samuel," she said. "I wonder if you might accompany me to the beach. I'd rather not invoke my husband's ire by marching down there by myself."

"Nae, milady," Samuel answered promptly. "Ye dinna want to do that. Give a minute to collect the table. "

Raina waved her hand. "Let's not bother with that today. I want to get back before Torsten returns—and all the men. They'll be hungry no doubt, and I wouldn't be surprised if at least a few injuries or burns need attention."

Samuel glanced toward the western sky though little could be seen with the keep between them and the fire. "Smoke dinna look so bad as it was earlier," he said. "Shouldna be too long now." He very kindly took the straps of the basket off Raina's arm. "If ye're sure ye dinna want the table and chair, I'll carry this."

"Thank you. Yes, let's hurry."

Down upon the beach, Samuel walked along the sand, past the barrels and baskets of fish brought in along the shore, past the drying racks and the storage huts and the salting station, announcing to the folks to come and receive their due.

Raina reached the beach and set herself up as the pay station, sitting down with her legs crossed beneath her, and burying the ink pot up to its neck in the sand at her side. The pouch of coins sat in her lap under the ledger. The fisherfolk gathered around her, accepted their pay with the usual crusty nods and scarcely a murmur of thanks.

Neither currach was moored presently and Raina guessed that Artair, Edane and the rest of their crew, plus a second crew were likely out hauling in the nets. She'd have to seek them out later today perhaps to settle up with them.

Just as she recorded the last entry and cinched the bag of coins, she spied a boat coming in. Assuming it was one of the fishing boats, she waited, pleased that she might have fewer people to chase down later. She frowned, however, as the boat neared, approaching the shore with uncommon speed .

Raina frowned, setting aside the ledger as she came to her feet. Absently, she brushed sand off her bottom and dropped the pouch to the ground. Only briefly was she befuddled by an awareness that the currach looked different before she understood that this boat, longer and broader, was not one of Lochlan's currachs.

Those on the beach, having returned to work, paused once more. Slowly, they began backing away from the shore. Several of them turned and began climbing up the cliff path.

"What is...?" She tried to ask of Duncan as he rushed past her, ignoring her.

From the opposite end of the beach, where he'd been speaking with Nell and her bairns, Samuel turned and sprinted toward Raina, waving his hand wildly, though his shout was lost to the roar of the waves.

She spared one more glance at the boat, which seemed to hold no more than half a dozen men. But before she could fully process what was happening, the boat reached the shore, and what might have been as many as twenty men spilled out, storming the beach with swift and purposeful strides. This was not a friendly party. Raina's heart pounded in her chest as she backed away, the scene eerily reminiscent of many weeks ago when the de Grahams had stormed the beach, albeit from a different direction.

Samuel was closer now, his shout loud and desperate. "Run! Run!"

The last thing she saw before she turned was the coming party running by —without engaging—the fishers on the beach.

They'd come for her. She didn't know who they were or why they wanted her, but she knew they'd come for her .

Abandoning the coins and ledger, she scurried up the path, but was made clumsy by her haste. Having failed to lift her skirt, she tripped within a few steps and, losing her balance, skittered downward. She started again, lunging frantically, sparing a glance over her shoulder at the scene below.

One that gave her pause.

Samuel stood as a sentry between her and the raiding hostiles, nearly twenty men.

"Samuel! No!" She pivoted and dashed back down to the beach, stumbling a bit until she crashed into Samuel's back. She tugged desperately at his arm. "No, Samuel. No. ?Tis certain death."

The young man never took his eyes off the assailants, who had just about reached him, and were now slowing, likely waiting to see what the lad would do.

"Dammit, milady," he gritted through his teeth, sounding very much like his commander at the moment. "I said to run."

"Look at me, Samuel," she said, circling round to his front. "Look at me," she commanded harshly. When he did, she said quietly, "Lay down your sword. You will be killed otherwise, and they'll still take me. I need you to tell Torsten to come find me."

"I will nae lay down my sword," he said, the veins in his neck throbbing.

Raina turned and considered the faces of the men meaning to abduct her. She held out her hand to keep them at bay, which miraculously seemed to work.

"You will," she said to Samuel, returning her attention to him. "They won't tell him, these wretched people, and how will he know? You're the only chance I have. Lay down your sword and tell Torsten I promise to stay alive." Tears gathered, her fright nearly overwhelming her good intentions regarding the outnumbered lad. "Tell him I am counting on him to come for me," she whimpered. Laying her hand over his, she pushed his sword downward until the tip of the blade met the sand.

Samuel's face reddened and his mouth twisted brutally, reacting physically to the very idea of surrendering. Angrily, he thrust down his sword and glared at Raina.

She was seized even before she turned around to accept her fate, unfriendly hands clasping her roughly. Two men shoved her forward into the custody of other waiting men. As was the case previously, so now she did not recognize these men; a fleeting glance over the faces showed nothing remarkable or distinguishable. Being kidnapped twice in a matter of weeks left her in a daze of disbelief. She couldn't fathom how or why it was happening again.

Her arms held in vice-like grips, she went along, more bewildered than fearful, too stunned to fight, and not willing to risk that Samuel wouldn't again raise his sword if he thought she'd changed her mind.

Between her and the boat to which she was being taken stood the fisherfolk.

They did nothing to stop the assault, the abduction. In fact, it seemed they had cleared a path, as a large swath of sand lay bare between two groups of Lochlan's own, where they stood untouched and untargeted.

She met the gazes of several people as she was marched past them, Nell, Donal, and Kenneth among others, none of whom spoke up or acted on her behalf. Their expressions varied from shame to dread to scorn .

Some of the men who'd come for her ran ahead, beginning to shove the long boat back into the water. She was walked out into the surf and lifted into the boat. Once inside, she was shoved down onto a wooden seat, facing the vast and endless sea in front of her.

To her horror, she saw that Samuel was being manhandled and brought to the boat as well. Having dropped his sword, his resistance was mostly for show. He climbed up into the boat himself but was seated toward the prow, his back facing Raina.

As the boat pushed off from the shore, Raina cast one last, desperate look back at Lochlan Hall. Several people stood atop the cliff, at the precipice—Duncan and those who'd ran, not anyone who might come to her rescue. The fishers on the beach hadn't moved yet.

Still too stunned to even cry in fright, Raina realized she'd forgotten to scream, recalling Torsten's praise for having done so last time.

She should have screamed before she'd let herself be taken.

THERE HADN'T BEEN ANY storms today that might suggest lightning had sparked the fire in the small forest. And it hadn't been so dry of late that it was possible the fire had started from a mere spark or carelessly discarded ember. The conditions simply didn't add up to a natural cause, leaving an unsettling question hanging in the air: how had the fire begun? And who was behind either a rash carelessness or an intentional act of arson?

Torsten drank thirstily from a horn being passed around and then wiped his forearm and sleeve over his brow to catch the dripping perspiration. The heat from the fire and the strenuous labor of fighting it had taken a toll on him and his men.

The battle against the blaze was a grueling one. Men had formed a line from the nearest water source, the loch the sat several hundred yards away, passing buckets hand to hand to douse the flames. Others used shovels and tools to create firebreaks, cutting down brush and trees to halt the fire's progress. Wagons, hastily repurposed for the task, sped along the makeshift path, carrying barrels of water to the frontline.

Roughly four hours later, the fire was contained. The cattle barns and pastureland had been spared, thanks to the tremendous and exhausting effort put forth by the de Graham army and the herders and those who labored in the barns. The forest, however, bore the scars of the battle, charred and smoldering.

Torsten stood back, surveying the damage and the weary faces of his men. Hundreds of them sat or laid in one huge clump, very close to the barns as they'd been backed up constantly by the flames before they'd finally controlled the blaze. Dozens or more had trekked back to the loch, eager to wash off the lingering smoke and acrid smell.

"Nae accident, that," Gilles commented, putting into words exactly what Torsten had been thinking.

"Nae," he agreed. He was one of the few men standing presently, too much on edge to sit. He passed the horn onto James and set his hands on his hips, casting his gaze back toward the keep, beyond the village and across the vast heath, which remained as undisturbed as when they'd been alerted to the fire hours ago.

"Leave a unit here," Torsten said, pausing to cough out more of the smoke he'd inhaled. "Have them continue to douse that for a while." He bent and picked up his belt and sheathed sword, where it had lain for the last few hours, holding it in his hand rather than attaching it.

They'd sent the horses back hours ago, too many of them spooked by smoke and flames, and now as Torsten began the walk back to the keep, one by one his men picked themselves up and followed, trudging wearily toward the army camp and Lochlan Hall.

They weren't halfway there yet when Torsten noticed a figure dashing straight through the quiet encampment. He squinted, but it was another moment before he recognized the fisherman, Edane, who had invited Torsten and Raina onto the boat last week, as the man racing through the rows of tents.

Immediately and inexplicably Torsten was pricked by apprehension.

"Getting somewhere in a hurry," Gilles remarked, having noticed Edane's approach.

"But why?" Torsten wondered, quickening his own pace until he was jogging toward the fisherman, already fearing the worst, that something had happened to Raina.

"Laird!" The man called when still a great distance separated them.

Though mayhap not imbued with the same sensation of dread, many of the de Graham men ran with him.

"Laird! ?Tis Lady Raina!" Edane shouted when they were closer.

With a fright eerily familiar, Torsten's heart dropped to his stomach.

He and Edane halted abruptly at the same time, only feet apart .

"Taken, laird," said the man, breathless. "A boat came and...men took her." He pointed toward the south. "Went off that way."

"When?"

Edane hesitated, wincing.

"When, goddamn it?"

"More than an hour ago," Edane answered, his voice small.

"Is this a fecking jest?" Gilles shouted, having reached Torsten's side. "An hour ago!"

Torsten saw red, made speechless by the magnitude of his rage.

He clasped his hand around Edane's arm, directing him to walk, striding furiously toward the keep. "Was anyone else taken? Was she harmed?"

"Yer lady and the lad, Samuel, but we've since recovered him. She went willingly, they said. Begged yer man nae to fight—one against so many—and," he shrugged, "she said she'd go if they dinna harm the young lad."

"And nae one else did anything to stop her from being taken, I imagine," James supposed with a venomous irritation.

"We only just returned now with the currach, laird, fished yer lad out of the water—they'd taken him but dumped him out at sea," Edane rushed to explain, having to run, sprinting to keep up with Torsten, who'd broken into a sprint toward the keep. "If we'd been there, I'd have—"

"How many came for her?" Torsten cut him off.

"Nae more than twenty, ? tis said."

"Where is Samuel?"

"On the beach yet, laird," Edane answered swiftly. "Broke his leg, they did, and he's lucky he dinna drown—was floating and treading, carried by the tide, for the last half hour."

"Send a party down there to bring up Samuel," Torsten called out to his men, "I want the keep locked down, everyone out. Get those bastards off the beach, the fishers. Seize their boats. Put crews of ten in the currachs and forty in the knarr." He was quickly out of breath, but continued, his brain sifting through actions needed. "Gilles, Rory, James, on the boats. Aonghas, leave forty at the keep and bring the rest with us—we ride for Montrose."

Though Edane had not kept pace with him, the de Graham men did.

"I want them questioned," he commanded, "Anyone down at the beach who witnessed it. Go at ?em hard until ye get answers."

"Ye want a guard round the village?" Aonghas asked.

"To hell with them, all of them," was Torsten's response. He couldn't care less about their safety. He cared only about Raina and getting her back. They could retake Lochlan Hall itself for all that he cared.

"I'll skin ?em myself," Gilles vowed gruffly, "every one of those bluidy fishers, if a hair on her head is harmed."

He lost precious but necessary moments interviewing Samuel, who was indeed in rough shape, drenched and dripping inside the hall where he'd been brought, his faced wreathed in agony for the damage done to his lower leg.

"She ran but then stopped, laird," he informed Torsten, a wee frantic yet after his ordeal. "She returned for chrissakes! She kent they'd nae kill me if she went willingly." When Torsten put his hand on Samuel's shoulder to calm him, Samuel gripped Torsten's forearm desperately and held his gaze. "She kent those bastards on the beach wouldna told ye. She said: Tell him I am counting on him to come for me ." Samuel shook his head, exhibiting disbelief he'd yet to come to terms with. "Terrified, she was, but she went with them. Ye have to find her, laird."

Samuel knew little more than Edane had already told, though he was able to confirm that the kidnappers had indeed traveled south along the coast with Raina for as long as he'd been with her.

"But ye cannot discount north, laird," the lad insisted. "After they dropped me into the sea, they went east for a long while, as long as I could see them."

Some discussion was had over this.

"To avoid currents?" Gilles wondered.

"To avoid the lad seeing them turn north?" Aonghas posited.

" Jesu , crossing the sea?" James introduced.

"Nae," Gilles dismissed this. "Samuel said the boat was nae big enough to cross the sea."

Less than thirty minutes after Edane had first sprinted toward him, Torsten set out with the bulk of his army, riding hard along the cliffs. He was hardly able to imagine that they might reach Montrose before the brigands put into port there, having such a large head start, and more troublesome, Montrose was only a guess; frighteningly, he had no idea who they were or from where they hailed, so that he couldn't rightly say where they'd come ashore again. He sent the knarr and those forty men north along the coast.

He blamed himself. Aye, he'd investigated the previous attempt to kidnap her, as much as he was able, but with so few clues and no one willing or able to identify even one of the dead men, his investigation had stalled fairly quickly. He'd sent James and Uilleam into Montrose to make discreet inquiries, but this, too, had yielded no results.

Today's fire, though, now made sense. But here he blamed himself as well, for not suspecting some treachery, for not commanding that Raina not leave the keep, for not assigning a larger retinue to her. He'd made the mistake of assuming the hefty perimeter guard would have kept her safe—and it had, until they'd come in from their posts, the majority of them, helping to fight the fire.

There was no excuse for his carelessness in this regard. In light of the first attempt to abduct her, Raina's safety should have overridden every other consideration at all times.

Tell him I am counting on him to come for me.

Bluidy hell, and how would he live with himself if...he couldn't?

Nae, failure was not an option.

He would find her.