Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

O nce he had closed Raven's door, Arne tapped on the door of Haldor and Sofia's chamber. There was no answer, and when he looked inside, he found only a maid, turning down their bed. He knew where they would most likely be at that time of the evening, in Sofia's little parlor, which was not far from Haldor's study. He hurried down there.

Within a few minutes, he was ensconced in a comfortable armchair by Sofia's cozy fireside, with a dram of whisky in his hand, sitting opposite the pair.

"This MacDonald sounds like a thoroughly evil individual," Sofia said, looking as appalled as Arne felt after he had related to them all that Raven had told him about the fiend she had the misfortune to be shackled to.

Haldor's face was a hard mask of disapproval. "Aye, I kent he was a bad man, but from what Raven says, he's far worse than that. He's wicked too. Tae threaten her life like that like that. There's nae doubt in me mind that she's right. If he learns about Thorsten, the lad will be in grave danger."

"What if he already kens where she is and kens of Thorsten's existence too, but hasnae acted upon the information yet?" Arne asked, terrified by the thought.

"I hate tae say it, but that's a very real possibility," Haldor said, his expression growing graver by the moment. "I think it would pay tae make our plans as though he's aware of both those things."

"Me and Raven are gonnae leave fer her braither's lands in a couple of days. Everard and Maxwell have long had tae have dealin's with MacDonald and his allies. They'll be able tae tell me more about the way the man operates and what they need from us tae help remove the threat he poses tae us all.

"But we also need more intelligence from our men in the field urgently, tae build up a picture of what resources he has and how he deploys his forces," Arne said, sipping his whisky. "Dae we have any reports on his movements yet?"

"He's still searchin' fer Raven as far as I can tell. I put out some feelers tae the neighboring lairds, and his men have been all over the pace, askin' questions about her. But that was just after she got here. Ye're right, Arne, we need fresh intelligence. Things could have changed drastically by now," Haldor replied.

"'Tis when he stops lookin' fer her that we can expect him tae make a move," Arne said. "That's what we need tae ken as soon as possible."

"Aye. I'm expectin' several of the scouts tae report back in the next few days. But I'm worried we may not be movin' fast enough. We need tae get ahead of him somehow," Haldor said.

Arne nodded and said, "One thing that might be useful is that he has many enemies, and his allies are often nae allies by choice. From what I hear, he generally gets what he wants in the way of agreements and treaties by threats and coercion. 'Tis possible we could get some of them tae help us. There are many who'd like tae see the bastard dead, includin' me."

Haldor nodded. "We need tae move fast tae get our information together and deal with this quickly and decisively, before he gets a chance tae dae any more plottin'."

"'Tis very worryin'," Sofia said, her brow furrowing. "D'ye think we should send Thorsten away somewhere safe while ye and Raven's braithers deal with MacDonald?" she asked.

"I've already thought of that. I dinnae think we can make any decisions until I've talked tae Raven's braithers," Arne told her.

"I think I should let Ivar ken what's happenin', in case we need his help at some point if we have tae move against MacDonald," Haldor said.

"All right." Arne nodded. Ivar would want to be there if it came to an all-out battle with MacDonald. A battle Arne already determined they would win.

"While ye and Raven are travelin' tae MacNeil lands, I'll gather all the intelligence I can here. Find out what the situation is with the MacNeils. We'll keep in touch and pool our intelligence.

Castle MacDonald, the Isle of Barra, the Hebrides, Western Scotland

"Get out!" Struan MacDonald growled, violently shoving the naked girl from his bed with his foot. She landed with a thump on the rug, her eyes wide with fright, and scurried about, snatching up her scattered clothing. But she was not quite quick enough for the Laird MacDonald's liking.

"Get out!" Struan roared at her again, levering himself up on his elbows and leaning against his pillows, his hairy, muscular naked chest with its tracery of silvery scars on show. Clutching her clothes to shield her nakedness from the two men who had just entered and were now standing waiting by the door, watching her every move, she swerved around them and slipped silently out of the room. The candles flickered from the draught a she closed the door softly behind her.

"I hope ye have a bloody good reason fer bargin' in on me at this hour, Jethro," Struan barked in his habitual terse manner as he turned his head to his war captain and lifetime companion. Jethro Maddox was a massive, hulking fellow with a horribly scarred face and shaved skull, a veteran of many battles.

Before Jethro could answer, Struan's attention was caught by the man standing next to him. He was tall and rangy and looked to be in his thirties, lightly bearded, with shoulder-length, pale red hair and light-colored intelligent eyes. He wore the long dusty coat and knee boots of a man used to spending long hours in the saddle.

"Ah, so ye're back are ye, Kirkwood? About time too. Have ye got some good news fer me this time?" Struan said, regarding the man with impatient interest in his hard, dark eyes.

"Aye, melaird. We've found her."

"At last!" Struan let out long exhale along with a pleased chuckle. "Where is she then?"

"She's with the MacLeods, just as we suspected," Kirkwood answered.

"Are ye certain about that? Ye've seen her, have ye?"

"Aye, I've seen her."

"Ye're positive 'tis her?"

"Small, slender, long black hair?"

"Sounds like her," Struan said, a grin breaking out on his darkly stubbled face. "How did she come tae be there?"

"I told ye before I had information saying she was in that shipwreck a week or so ago off the coast of Harris, after that storm, and that Laird Macleod's braither saved her and took her back tae their castle."

"But I thought ye said last time that ye'd been tae see the MacLeods and they told ye they kent naethin' of Raven." Struan's grin turned to a frown.

"They were obviously shieldin' her fer some reason. She's there all right. I've seen her with me own eyes, melaird."

"So, they were lyin' when they said they hadnae seen her." Struan said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

"Aye, it would seem so. And there's somethin' else I think ye need tae ken as well," Kirkwood said.

"Well, come on then, man, spit it out."

"I think she has a bairn."

"A bairn?" Struan's expression turned sour, his dark brows knitting as he stared at the man who had been leading the search for his runaway wife.

"Aye, a wee lad of about two-three, accordin' tae me informant."

There was a pregnant pause. Then, Struan wrenched himself out of the bed and pulled a robe over his stocky, powerful body, tying it at his waist as he went up to Kirkwood and stood in front of him. "What makes ye think that?" he demanded.

"Me informant says Lady Raven left the house of ill-repute on Harris about two years ago, with a bairn in her arms. And when I asked questions at the MacLeod castle, I found out that a bairn was left there outside the gates, a lad, also two-three years ago. The family took him in, and the laird's younger braither is raisin' the lad as his own son."

"Ye mean Arne MacLeod?" Struan asked.

"Aye, that's him. The same one that pulled Lady Raven from the shipwreck," Kirkwood supplied.

Struan's fists flexed at his sides as he took in the information. Eventually, he said, "So, this bairn is at the MacLeod's castle, and so is she, is that what ye're tellin me?"

"Aye, melaird," Kirkwood replied stolidly.

"I suppose 'tis too much tae hope that ye ken the bairn's name?"

"'Tis Thorsten, melaird."

"Thorsten, eh? Have ye called off the search?"

"Aye, melaird."

"All right, ye can get out," Struan told him, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "I'll tell ye when I need ye again."

"Aye, melaird." Kirkwood turned and let himself out.

"We've got her, Jethro," Struan said now he and his right-hand man were alone. He started to pace, his brow furrowed with thought, punching his palm with his fist.

"Seems like it," his captain agreed.

"Aye, and the other pieces of the puzzle are startin' tae fall intae place. Raven's been clever, the wee vixen. I thought at first she was headin' fer the mainland when she got away last time, but now I think she was deliberately headin' fer Harris," he said. "The ship breakin' up just there was just a coincidence. She ended up exactly where she wanted tae go in the first place."

"Aye. And it seems like she had good reason tae go there as well," his captain put in gruffly.

"Aye. I told ye when I got her back almost three years ago that she was different, did I nae?"

"Aye, ye did," Jethro nodded.

"She had marks on her belly and thighs she didnae have before." He shook his head."

"Seems like too much of a coincidence that she left the whorehouse with a bairn, and then one suddenly turns up at the MacLeods' castle gate shortly after," Jethro put in.

"Exactly. If it was her that left it there, then why would she dae that? She could have left it anywhere, at the kirk or with the healer or somethin'."

"And why is Arne MacLeod raisin' the bairn as his son?" his captain asked.

"That's just what I'm wonderin' mesel'. Certainly not out of the kindness of his heart, me thinks."

A sound came out of Jethro then that could have been a laugh but sounded more like an unoiled, badly rusted iron door opening after a long period of misuse. "I think we can safely assume who's the bairn's daddy," he said.

"Aye, and I'm lookin' forward tae slittin' the bastard from his neck tae his gizzard," Struan replied darkly. "Ach, Jethro, I've waited a long time fer this. But now I'll get me reckonin' at last. Raven's gonnae pay fer makin' me a laughingstock fer the rest of her life, and that may be a lot shorter than she thinks. After she watches her bairn die first, of course."

The two friends shared a laugh as jagged and soulless as smashing glass. When they had recovered, Jethro said in his gravelly voice, "The MacLeods are a powerful clan, Struan. They've already lied tae shield Lady Raven's presence at their stronghold. If ye're plannin' an attack on them tae get her back and get the bairn too, it'll nae be easy. There's three braithers left after that one got hissel' killed a few years back?—"

Struan's head jerked up. "Jaysus, Jethro, I'd forgotten about that! Ye've just made me think of somethin'," he crowed animatedly. Jethro cocked an inquiring eyebrow that was bisected by a long, thin scar that ran up onto his shaved scalp. "

"Thor. That was his name."

Light broke over the war leader's face, and grimace that passed for a grin appeared, revealing sharp, yellow teeth. "Thor? Thorsten?" he rumbled in his deep voice.

"The bairn's named after his dead uncle!"

"That's very touchin'" Jethro said, nodding.

"Aye, and the wee bastard'll be followin' his uncle tae the grave before long," Laird MacDonald said with a nasty laugh.

"But Struan, jokin' aside, the three Macleod braithers still left are nay push over in a fight. Haldor himsel' is a hard bastard. He's won every battle he's ever fought. And the other one, Ivar, he's a tough bastard and all. And this Arne, the bairn's da, he's just the same," Jethro warned in a more circumspect tone. "They ken we've been lookin' fer Lady Raven. They'll be expectin' us. That castle'll be locked up tighter than a drum. There's hardly a chance we'll be able tae get in there."

"Aye, I ken all that, man. I dinnae plan an all-out attack on the place. I'm thinkin' of somethin' more subtle, and we'll nae have tae lift a sword."

"Oh, aye? What's that then?"

Struan rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I'm thinkin' that now we ken about the bairn, this wee Thorsten, we can use him as leverage tae get Raven tae give herself up, and those MacLeod braithers'll nae be any the wiser."

"How are we gonnae dae that?"

"I'm nae exactly sure yet, but I'll bet ye that once she finds out her faither's dead, Raven will feel safe headin' back tae see her braithers very soon."

"Aye. So what? Ye're nae suggestin' we mount an attack on the MacNeils, are ye? That'll be a bloodbath as well," Jethro said doubtfully. "Those two are as hard as nails themselves if it comes tae a fight. There's nae guarantee of winnin' against them either and just as good a chance of getting' ourselves killed as with the MacLeods."

"That's the beauty of me plan, lad. They'll nae ken a thing about it either. I ken Raven better than either the MacLeods or her braithers dae. Everard and Maxwell havenae even seen the lass since I wed her six years ago. They probably dinnae even remember what she looks like. Both them and the MacLeods think they can protect her from me." He sniggered. "But they cannae protect her from hersel'."