Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

A rne had just finished seeing to the horses and was making his way back to the front entrance of the inn, intending to go into the bar and talk to the innkeeper. He was coming around the corner of the building, the saddlebags and blankets slung over his shoulder when a terrible, heart-wrenching scream ripped through the air.

"Arne! Help!"

Raven , recognizing her voice at once, his heart thumped painfully in his chest and his blood froze in his veins. Filled with sudden terror for her safety, he dropped everything he was carrying and ran out onto the quay, pushing through the bustling crowd to the edge, certain the cries had come from somewhere out on the water.

His eyes frantically scanned the sea, but boats and ships and barges were everywhere, and he could not see her. He cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed, "Raven! Where are ye?"

More of her screams came echoing over the water, desperate pleas for him to come and help her. Every syllable stabbed at him like a blade.

"If she's a lass dressed like a lad who's screamin' fer ye then she's on that birlinn, lad, the Lady Anne , out there, look," a man in an oilskin coat called to him from the deck of another birlinn that was moored about fifty feet away from him.

Arne followed the man's pointing arm. About a quarter of a mile out to sea, he made out a small figure on the deck of another birlinn, waving its arms. Raven's screams carried to him on the sea breeze despite the hurly-burly going on around him. He watched in horror when a huge figure in garb resembling that of a monk grabbed her from behind and restrained her.

I have tae get tae her, but how? Arne thought quickly. He looked at the man who had called out to him. "Is that yer boat?" he asked, jutting his jaw at the vessel, which he noticed was called Kelpie Lass.

"Aye," the man nodded.

"I'll give ye twenty guineas tae row me out tae that birlinn," Arne told him, getting ready to jump aboard.

But the captain held up a restraining hand. "Hey, now, hold yer horses, man. I ken who owns that boat, and I've nae wish tae quarrel with him. Ye'd have tae have a death wish tae dae somethin' so foolish as that," he declared, shaking his head.

Arne halted. "Who owns it?" he asked, horribly afraid he already knew the answer.

"Why, Laird Struan MacDonald of Barra."

Arne's guts twisted as though a blade had been plunged into them. "That's what I thought, and he's just the fella I wantae see," Arne told him. "Twenty-five guineas, and ye dinnae have tae lift a finger, just get me tae that boat."

The captain appeared to consider it. By this time a number of his crew had gathered to witness the bargaining and were taking a great interest in the sums being bandied about. "I'm nae sure," the captain said, turning to his crew. "What d'ye think lads?"

"Will ye get on with it? The bloody boat's nearly out of sight!" Arne implored them, fear making him impatient.

"Make it thirty, and we'll dae it," said a ruddy-faced sailor, coming up behind the captain, perhaps his first mate.

"Aye, thirty," the men cried in support.

"Done," Arne shouted.

"Hold on, how d'we ken ye're good fer the money? Ye dinnae look rich," the first mate pointed out skeptically.

Arne pulled off his clan ring and chucked it to the man. He caught it easily. The captain and crew gathered around to examine it, talking in hushed voices. Arne was almost at the end of his patience. The Lady Anne was almost out of view and Raven with it. If she was still alive that was.

"'Tis twenty-four carat solid gold," Arne told them. "I'm the braither of Haldor MacLeod, the Viking Laird of Harris. Ye can keep that as security. If I dinnae comeback and pay ye, ye can melt it down and sell it fer about the same amount."

The captain pocketed the ring, turned to Arne with a shifty grin, and doffed his hat. "Captain Ben Bosco of the Kelpie Lass , the fastest birlinn in the Hebrides at yer service, Mr. Macleod, Sir. Now, untie that painter and jump aboard." He pointed at the rope that was holding the craft tied to an iron ring set in the side of the stone quay.

Needing no second bidding, his eyes on the rapidly retreating Lady Anne, Arne slipped the painter from the ring and jumped aboard, landing on two feet with a thud.

Meanwhile, Bosco addressed his crew. "All hands tae the oars, ye slackers, and be quick about, or I'll have the skin off yer backs!" he roared.

There was a chorus of "Aye, Aye, Captain," as his men leaped into action, taking their seats on the benches by the rowlocks and seizing their oars before starting to heave on them, sinews cracking like pistol shots.

Not content to just sit around, Arne immediately slipped into a vacant spot among the rowers and was soon blading a pair of oars through the water in perfect time with the rest, straining every muscle, his eyes always on the dot up ahead.

The Kelpie Lass flew across the choppy, greenish waters, swerving expertly between the other vessels, making rapid gains on the larger Lady Anne .

However, though he was now in hot pursuit of MacDonald's vessel, Arne was extremely troubled by the fact that no more screams had come from Raven. Someone had silenced her, and it terrified him. "Can they row any faster?!" he cried to Bosco.

"Make it thirty-five guineas, and we'll make her bloody fly!" the first mate yelled, striding up and down and urging the rowers on in colorful language.

"Done!" Arnie cried, straining at the oars.

"Let's just hoist the sail," Bosco said with a grin. "There's a nice easterly behind us. We'll catch her up easy."

And indeed, they did. Within a surprisingly short time, Kelpie Lass was within hailing distance of the Lady Anne . Arne was surprised to see there were no armed men on board, just what appeared to be the crew, with a dozen of the men rowing like crazy as a lanky, greasy-haired individual he supposed was the captain, screamed at them to go faster.

However, the giant "monk" and his "brother" were already at the stern of the vessel, looking back at them. As Arne watched, they threw their robes open, to reveal swords and dirks in their belts. He looked past them, into the body of the boat, straining his eyes to catch a glimpse of Raven.

His heart sank, for he could see nothing. On the other hand, he was pretty sure from what she had told him about her husband, that MacDonald would want her back alive, so he could make her suffer for running out on him twice. He decided to hold on to that thought.

"Can ye get me closer?" Arne asked Bosco anxiously, nevertheless keen to get some evidence she was aboard.

"As close as ye like," the captain said and gave the order. He came and stood next to Arne at the stern as the gap closed between the two vessels. "See the big fella there givin' us the evil eye?" Bosco asked him.

"He's a bit hard tae miss," Arne replied, still scanning the vessel.

"Aye, as big as a barn door. And that makes him an easy target."

"True enough," Arne agreed, wondering what he was getting at.

"He's a right nasty bastard and all. D'ye ken who he is?"

"Nay."

"His name's Jethro Maddox, and he's the right-hand man of Laird Struan MacDonald. They're practically joined at the hip."

"Is that so?" Arne said, regarding the giant with fresh interest as they drew nearer. The details of the man's mutilated face became clearer. "He's nae about tae win any beauty contests, that's fer sure."

"Aye. But 'tis his soul that's really ugly. And it just so happens that I have a score tae settle with him. He killed me braither. But I've never had the chance tae get him where I could have a go at him."

"What are ye suggestin'?" Arne asked, noticing the captain was gripping a wide-bladed knife in his fist.

"Well, I was thinkin' that I might never get such a good chance as this, and I could give ye a hand tae get yer lassie back safe at the same time. The crew are nae gonnae try anythin', so ye could take on the lanky one in the robes, and I'll give Maddox a wee somethin' tae keep him busy while ye get the lassie."

"All right," Arne agreed at once, hardly able to believe his luck. However, he had a feeling Maddox would threaten Raven's life to make them leave without interference.

His belly churned in horrible expectation as they came up alongside the Lady Anne . Maddox and his companion were mere yards away now, glowering at them, swords out. Arne recognized the man in the oilskin coat as the leader of the two men employed by MacDonald who had come to see Haldor, asking about Raven. Kirkwood. Jed Kirkwood, he recalled.

But he did not have time to think upon it further because just then, Maddox suddenly reached down between him and his companion and hauled up a slight bound and gagged figure into view by its hair. It spun there in the air like a spider's dinner, all wrapped up and ready to be eaten.

Raven! A combination of terror and fury swept over him to see his love being brutalized in such a cruel fashion, and he swore vengeance on the man meting it out. He gripped the gunwale hard, his first instinct to leap over to the other boat to help her. But he stopped himself, knowing that would almost certainly guarantee Raven's demise.

"Let her go, Maddox, and I'll let ye and yer friend Kirkwood there go back tae yer master, ye dog!" he bellowed.

A hideous grin formed on Maddox's ugly face. He pulled Raven up higher, his meaty fist wound cruelly in her hair. "I'll slit her throat if ye dinnae turn around and leave us be, MacLeod. And then I'll kill ye as well and feed ye tae the fishes," Maddox roared across the divide, his deep, rumbling voice sounding to Arne as though the monster ate gravel for breakfast.

Arne's heart plummeted. Maddox had the upper hand, and much as he might wish to leap over and fight him, by the time he got there, it would be too late for Raven. He wracked his brains to come up with a way of getting Maddox to let her go, or at least loosen his hold on her.

His brain was still spinning frantically, searching for a solution, when something completely unexpected happened. Something flew past his ear, and the next moment, there was a meaty thunk, and then he saw the handle of a blade sticking out of Maddox's shoulder, embedded up to the hilt.

The giant roared in agony, dropping both Raven and his sword to the deck as he staggered backward, crashing into things haphazardly. Kirkwood stared at his companion open-mouthed, rooted to the spot, apparently too stunned to move.

In that spilt second, Arne noted with grim satisfaction that the crew of the Lady Anne seemed spooked. The stringy-haired captain, and those with him, backed away to the stern, as far away as they could get. The men at the rowlocks dropped their oars to turn and stare at the unfolding events but made no move to intervene, clearly not seeming at all anxious to get involved in any fighting.

"Damn, I missed. I was aimin' fer the bastard's head, but that should hold him fer a while," Arne heard Bosco say as if from the bottom of a well. Arne moved instinctively to capitalize on the moment of disruption.

He seized a rope from the rigging and swung across to the Lady Anne , cannoning into Kirkwood with both booted feet. The man was taken by complete surprise. He let out a loud, "Oof!" as his feet flew out from under him. His weapon clattered to the deck, and he went skidding into a pool of Maddox's blood.

While the two men were temporarily disabled, Arne wasted no time in rushing to Raven's side. He ripped the gag from her mouth and said urgently, "Raven, me darlin', are ye hurt?" As he spoke, he pulled out his dirk and began slicing through the ropes binding her ankles and wrists.

"I'm all right," she gasped, pulling in air, tearing the bindings away in frantic relief as he cut them. "Thank ye fer savin' me," she sobbed, her face tear-streaked, white, and terrified. "I didnae think ye heard me screamin' fer ye. He was takin' me back tae Struan."

"He's nae takin' ye anywhere now, ye're safe," he soothed her, but even as the words left his lips, her eyes flew wide, and she screamed and pointed at something over his shoulder, "Arne, watch out behind ye!"

Still in a crouch, he whirled on the balls of his feet to be confronted with a blood-soaked giant wielding a raised sword, which he was about to bring down on Arne's head. Arne still had his dirk in his fist, and without hesitation, he punched it into Maddox's belly, sending the giant tottering backwards until he crashed to the deck like a felled tree, still clutching his weapon.

Knowing they had to get out of there fast, Arne scooped Raven up and held her to his chest with one arm. With one fluid movement, he grasped a rope from the rigging and swung back to the Kelpie Lass, where Bosco and the crew were cheering and clapping.

"Get us out of here, Captain," Arne panted, but the birlinn was already carving out a wide, circular wake as it turned.

"Row, lads, row!" the captain yelled, and the Kelpie Lass took off, this time running parallel to the shore.

Arne slid down against the gunwale, holding Raven tightly, examining the red welts on her wrists and ankles with fury. "Have ye any other injuries?" he asked solicitously, rubbing at the welts.

"I bumped me head a few times, and me scalp hurts like hell where that bastard Maddox had me up by me hair," she told him, gently patting her head and grimacing, "but other than that, I'm all right."

"Thank the Wee Man," he sighed as they hugged each other tightly and exchanged a sweet kiss. "That was a close one. What happened? How did ye come tae be on MacDonald's boat," Arne asked.

"They tricked me," Raven replied and told him the whole story of how she had been lured onto the Lady Anne .

"Jaysus!" he exclaimed when she had finished. "I had me suspicions that MacDonald was watchin' us. His men were just waitin' fer their moment tae try tae steal ye away. 'Tis me fault. I was lax in leavin' ye alone like that. I didnae quite believe how bold MacDonald is and what lengths he'll go tae tae get ye back. I'm so sorry, Raven," he told her, wracked by guilt for the danger he had put her in.

She stroked his hair and kissed his lips gently, looking deeply into eyes. The love he saw there was unmistakable, and it comforted him. However, the thought that he had been so close to losing her because of his own carelessness stabbed at him. Thank God I got her back! Or thank Bosco.

"'T'was nae yer fault, Arne," she told him. "I kent there was somethin' fishy about it, but I was so excited about gettin' tae see me braithers sooner than I thought, I foolishly went along with it. Dinnae blame yersel' fer a moment. Ye saved me just when I thought it was too late."

"I'll nae let that happen again, nae while there's blood in me body," he promised, holding her close, silently vowing never to leave her alone again. They stayed like that while the K elpie Lass sped over the waves, taking them to safety.