Chapter 35

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

" T he place is well guarded. How d'ye suggest we get inside?" Maxwell asked. He and Everard and Maxwell, along with a party of six armed soldiers, were sitting in a birlinn that was bobbing in the starlit darkness just off the rocky coast of Barra.

The trio gazed up at the mighty stronghold of Struan MacNeil. Its stone towers loomed above them, a hulking silhouette starkly outlined against the purplish night sky.

"Those are her old chambers, right up there," Arne said, pointing up at the window about twenty feet up in the formidable stone wall. It was surrounded by ivy, and below was a rocky outcrop where tough sea grasses swayed in the sea breeze. A narrow path ran down from it between gorse bushes, to the small fringe of golden sand. It was mere feet to the water's edge. The scene was exactly as Raven had described it.

"How d'ye ye ken that?" Everard asked, leaning on his oars.

"She told me," Arne replied simply, his mind going back to when Raven had described her escape. He remembered how his hatred for her husband had already been growing inside him at that point, and how he had memorized every word she told him. A part of him had seemed to know even then that the information might one day be useful to him.

"'Tis where she climbed down from tae get tae the boat that was shipwrecked in the storm," he added.

All three stared up at the window glass that glinted in the starlight. "D'ye think he would have locked her up in there again?" Maxwell asked.

"He might," Everard said, his eyes searching the darkness beneath the window. Suddenly, he said, "I think I can see two guards up there."

Arne stared, and he just made out two silhouettes in the darkness, two men talking. "Aye, I see them."

"I see them too," Maxwell murmured. "That's good, is it nae? He wouldnae set a watch if she wasnae in there alive, would he? We have tae get up there and have a look."

"I'll go," Arne found himself saying.

I cannae just leave her tae her fate, he thought. She's ruined me life, aye, but could I live with mesel' if I dinnae help her and MacDonald kills her? Whatever she is, she's Thorsten's maither. I have tae help her, whether I like it or nae.

"All right. What about the guards?" Everard asked.

"Ye and me could distract them somehow, Braither, while Arne gets up in that window," Maxwell suggested.

Everard nodded. "Aye." He looked intently at Arne. "What d'ye think? Could it work?"

"'Tis the only plan we have, so we might as well give it a go," Arne replied, hiding how keen he was to scale that wall and find out if Raven was on the other side of the window. They talked a little while longer, outlining the details of their simple plan. Then, the party stepped into the surf and pulled the boat up onto the sand, concealing it behind some boulders. The soldiers gathered around the brothers.

"Count tae one hundred, and then stage yer diversion," Arne told Everard and Maxwell, adjusting the coil of rope slung over his shoulder.

"Aye, good luck, Arne. If she's in there, I trust ye tae bring her out alive," Everard told him.

Maxwell nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. "Go on, Arne. We'll play our part, dinnae worry."

"Count tae one hundred, remember," Arne called after them softly as they split up, the brothers and their men clambering stealthily up the rocks to the right, in the direction of the main gates at the front the castle, and Arne up the steep, narrow path leading up to the promontory where the guards were stationed.

As he ran silently up the path in a crouch, Arne counted slowly in his head, one, two, three, four… it took him fifteen seconds to reach the lip of the promontory. He carried on counting as he sank down behind a large boulder and peeked above it. He could clearly see the two guards. They were talking to each other in low voices, laughing occasionally, oblivious to his presence.

The count went on in his head, twenty… forty… fifty. He braced himself for what was to come. "One hundred," he breathed, his ears straining to hear above the crashing of the sea against the shore.

Suddenly, he heard it on the breeze, shouting. The guards were suddenly alert. They moved away from the wall, looking in the direction of the noise.

"What's that?" he heard one of them ask in tones of alarm.

"I dunno, but we'd best go and find out," the other replied. They ran to the right and disappeared around the corner of the tower. Arne did not waist a second before he ran up to a spot right beneath the window, grabbed the thick stems of ivy, and began climbing swiftly upwards, his heart pounding out of his chest as he wondered what awaited him when he got to the top.

When he reached the window sill, he peered inside. A shock went through him when he saw the room was empty, save for two women. Raven! She's alive ! A wave of relief washed over him. He tapped on the glass.

Two white faces turned to the window. His eyes met Raven's and hers widened with shock, as if she could not believe what she was seeing. Then she was on her feet, running to the window and throwing it open. "Arne!" she exclaimed softly. "Is it really ye?"

She had an expression of amazement on her face, a face that was swollen and black and blue. His hatred for MacDonald reignited and burned fiercely as he hauled himself over the sill, climbed in through the window, and dropped to the floor. The other young woman stood back, staring at him in shock.

"Why have ye come?" Raven asked, the words coming out in a sob as she gazed at him from her swollen, blackened eyes. "I thought ye hated me a."

"I couldnae just leave ye here. Besides, we have a lot tae talk about," he told her, unable to stop himself from brushing her bruised cheek gently with his fingertips. "Did he dae this tae ye?" he asked, horrified by the state of her.

"Aye," she replied, looking almost ashamed. That made him hate MacDonald even more. But with time short, he turned his mind to the urgency of the moment, getting Raven out of there.

"Yer braithers are here as well. They're keepin' the guards occupied while I fetch ye. We have a birlinn down on the beach, tae take ye home. But we have tae go now."

Even as he spoke, he was tying the end of the rope to the stone casement. "I'll go down first, and ye can follow. I'll catch ye if ye fall."

She smiled despite her spilt lip. "I ken ye will. But what about Ava?" She tuned to the white-faced girl staring at them, her hand to her mouth. "Ava, will ye come too? I dinnae want tae leave ye here again," Raven told her pleadingly.

Ava did not hesitate but hurried to the window to join them, already kilting up her skirts "Aye, I'm comin'," she declared, shooting Arne a bright smile.

"Then let's go," Arne said, testing the rope, confident it would bear their weight. He clambered out of the window and slithered his way rapidly down the ivy to the ground. Shouts and the clash of metal on metal echoed from nearby. It sounded as though the diversion had turned into a fight.

He stood beneath the window, watching anxiously as Raven climbed out, caught hold of the rope and lowered herself down, hand over hand. He caught her waist as soon as she was close enough. Then they waited for Ava to climb down and join them.

Once they were all on solid ground, he led the girls down to the beach. Arne emerged first, stopping dead in his tracks, his heart dropping as he shielded Raven and Ava with his body from what awaited them on the sand.