Chapter 3

"Ido not believe you. I do not believe that the man who was brave enough to risk his life to save me, would turn around and take my life from me." Idalia shook her head in refusal. "You cannot do this. You are not that kind of man."

Bran laughed. It was a hollow sound filled with regret and self-loathing. "Ye ken nothing o' me. I am that man. For the sake o' my..." He stopped himself before he could mention his daughter. His expression hardened. "I will be whatever kind o' man I need to be. If August Raymond wants ye in exchange for something that I need, then he shall have ye."

He watched as shock filled her eyes.

"You are not the man your family believes you to be if you truly mean what you are saying."

"Aye, now ye ken the situation. Yer fate is sealed. It is time ye accepted it."

"You have changed," she whispered, suddenly losing her fire.

"Aye, I have."

"Why did you pretend not to know me?"

"It would have made it easier for me tae deliver ye tae August Raymond if I did nae ken who ye are. Now, I am forced tae admit that I am trading the life o' Lady Katarina's sister for me own ends. I will ne'er be able tae go home, ever again." A thought crossed his face. "Did yer sister find ye? Is she safe?"

Idalia looked at him curiously. "What is your name?"

"Bran MacLeod," he answered her. It was dreamlike, going through the formalities of introduction, given everything they had been through together, and the fact he now held her hostage.

"Aye, my sister is safe with her husband and newborn child." Bran frowned, wondering why she was being so forthcoming with information despite all that was happening, but he did not question it.

"Child?" Bran looked up, filled with pleasure at the news.

"His name is Bran."

"They named the bairn after me?" he asked in shock.

It stunned him when she nodded in confirmation. "They did."

Bran shook his head. "I dinnae deserve such an honor."

"To my sister, you are a hero. She mourns your loss, as do many others. They believed that you died protecting her. Your brother Andrew is the child's godfather."

Bran turned his head so she could not see his face as he tried to stop the tears that threatened to spill at the mention of his brother. He had tried not to think of him, because of how much he missed him, but also because it filled him with shame.

"I did nae ken," he said when he finally got his emotions under control.

"He misses you," Idalia informed him. He could hear the sympathy in her voice. "You are all of the family he had left in the world. Now, he has my sister." Bran smiled, comforted by the knowledge that his brother had someone. "Why did you not come back all of this time? Why did you not send a letter or something to let your family know that you were still alive?"

Bran shook his head. "I could nae. August had me watched every moment o' the day and night. If I did anything he did nae like," he shrugged his shoulders, choosing to let his words hang.

"What does he have against you? For you to accept this, something must have happened."

He shook his head, refusing to tell her anything more. He gave her a warning look to drop the topic of conversation. "We all change."

She shook her head. "Your family deserves to know you are still alive. I would have told them myself had I known who you were."

"I told ye nae tae."

Idalia responded defiantly. "I did not know you well enough to obey you, nor did I know who you were."

Bran snorted in amusement at that. He turned to look at her once more. "Ye have fire in ye. That is nae small accomplishment, given all that ye and yer family have been through. Ye will need that fire where we are going."

"Where are we going?" Idalia asked, staring at him with dread.

"Tae a place just outside o' August Raymond's Romani encampment. He awaits ye there." The sound of men arguing behind them made him stop speaking for a moment to listen. When the argument stopped, he continued on. "I am sorry, lass. If I could do otherwise, I would nae do this taeye."

"Is there any way that we can both escape August's clutches?" Idalia asked him hopefully. "Is there any way that you could release me, and we could return home to Orkney together?"

Bran shook his head. "I have tried tae get away from him. If we were tae be caught he would put us both tae death, killing us slowly for the pleasure o' making us suffer."

"Bran, please, there must be a way," she pleaded, causing his heart to fill with even more guilt.

"I am truly sorry, lass, but yer only choices are August Raymond or death." Bran pulled his blade and held it in the air between them. "Which will it be?"

Idalia swallowed hard looking at the blade balanced between them. "Whatever yer choice, yer body dead or alive will be delivered tae August Raymond," he informed her, the sympathy gone from his eyes, a cold calm in its place.

"Where there is life there is hope," Idalia murmured, refusing the offered escape of death.

Bran nodded, then sheathed his blade. "I must go and speak with the captain. I will return with some food for ye ‘afore darkness falls." Rising, he left her alone in the canvas-protected midship for the exposed deck beyond.

Idalia looked all around her for a means of escape. As much as she did not wish harm to Bran, she was not about to surrender her life to August Raymond. I will find a way to help Bran get back home, but I will not be a sacrificial lamb upon the alter of Raymond's evil desires.

Squirming, Idalia tried to undo the ties that bound her hands and feet. She did not know what she was going to do or where she was going to go once she had freed herself from her bindings. She was on a boat after all. There were not very many places a person could go. If I can manage to free myself, I could jump over the side and into the water. I am a strong swimmer. Perhaps I could survive the sea. Doubt niggled at her, but she could not let herself consider anything else. She had to escape.

The canvas around her was made of animal skin, what type she was uncertain, but she suspected seal. The boat appeared to be a birlinn, a galley-style used mostly by western highlanders and islanders, similar to the ships of the Viking raiders who came before. Such boats were manned by oarsmen and had been used for centuries in warfare, trade, and transport. Many of them had been destroyed when the Scottish Crown had put down the uprising of the Lords of the Isles, but some had survived. Idalia knew from her brother-in-law, Dunn, that there was always an armed man aboard a birlinn to defend against attackers. If she jumped ship, there was no way to be certain he would not have her killed the moment she hit the water.

Another problem were the oars. How am I to jump free of the oarsmen? I cannot slip quietly into the water without being hit by an oar. Idalia did not know what she was going to do. Had it been a simple fishing boat, she might have stood a chance, but with a birlinn she had very little chance if any to mount an effective escape. Wriggling around she continued to search for anything sharp she could use to cut her bindings. Finding nothing, she used her teeth in an attempt to gnaw her way through them. Unfortunately, her efforts resulted in nothing more than a sore mouth and bleeding gums.

Peeking through the canvas slit that served for a doorway, Idalia surveyed the oarsmen. They were tough, strong looking men. She did not recognize any of them. There were more men than she had originally thought with three men per each oar. With twelve oars that she could count from her position, that made thirty-six men, not counting Bran or the boat's captain. It was possible there were even more men behind her as a birlinn could hold up to eighteen oars. Bran stood with the captain. They spoke as if they were familiar with each other. Idalia wondered if the captain was one of Raymond's men, or if Bran had done business with him before.

Can he be bribed?. If he is August Raymond's man, fear alone would make him loyal. If he is Bran's man, perhaps he could be made to see reason and let me go. She watched the two men carefully for any signs of weakness. They were strong men, muscular in build. Bran was taller than the captain, younger, and more attractive overall. Idalia felt herself blush at the thought and shook her head in frustration at her own weakness. The only imperfection Idalia could see on Bran was that his wounded arm appeared not to have healed quite right, causing him to avoid using it. The captain had a scar over his left eye, but also seemed otherwise unimpaired.

Sighing, Idalia moved away from the tent flap to think. She could not directly take on any of the men she had seen. Her best chance was to slip off of the boat into the water, swim down far enough that the oars would not hit her, and swim out away from the boat before surfacing. However, she could not do any of that with her hands and feet tied. Using the edge of the hull, she ran her bindings over it repeatedly in an attempt to use friction to weaken them.

Idalia had no notion how long she had been at it when her bindings finally snagged on a piece of splintered wood and gave way. She stifled a shriek of exaltation and untied the bindings holding her feet together. Lifting the edge of the animal skin canvas, she peered out at the sea. She had no way of knowing where she was or how far they were from Orkney. She had no notion of how she was to find her way back home. She only knew that she must try. Her sisters had lost entirely too much family at the hands of evil men. They did not need to lose her too.

God in heaven, help me!She sent a prayer out to the sky, then poked her head out of the canvas. She made it as far as her hips before someone noticed her and let out a cry of alarm.

"Lass overboard!" one of the oarsmen bellowed.

Idalia was still wearing men's clothing, but her long wild hair had broken free of its confines and was whipping about in the wind like a flag advertising her femininity. Idalia tried to scramble the rest of the way out of the boat and into the water but was jerked back inside by her feet. Her chin hit the side of the boat as she was roughly yanked back under the canvas. She cried out in pain as it jolted through her face. "Unhand me!"

Back under the canvas she found Bran with her feet still in his hands, glaring down at her angrily. "Ye would risk yer life tae the sea after all o' yer talk about remaining alive for yer family's sake?!" He was seething with rage, all signs of caring or compassion gone. "Ye are nothing like yer sister. She risked everything tae save ye, and here ye are, trying to throw it all away."

Idalia glared right back at him, his every word stinging like nettles to the heart. "You have no right to take me against my will! It is my duty to my family to return to Orkney. They have lost everything to evil men such as the Laird Morgan and August Raymond. I will not be the next person they lose. How dare you put such an undeserved burden upon me!" She breathed heavily, attempting to wrench her feet away from him. "I am perfectly capable of swimming to shore. I have no intention of taking my own life, just as I will not sacrifice my life to the hands of August Raymond."

"Ye are nae seeing reason. There is nae possible way that ye would have survived the oars."

"You are the only one here who is failing to see reason. How dare you take me against my will! How dare you speak to me of my life!" She threw his words back at him with vehement force. "You are the one who is taking it from me!"

Bran stood staring at her as if she had gut punched him. He gripped her feet harder as if to steady himself. Idalia cried out in pain, flailing about, and kicked him square in the ballocks. He coughed, dropping her feet to protect himself from another blow. His face paled, then reddened as he gasped for air. Idalia used the moment to attempt to slither back through the gap in the canvas, but he was too quick for her and he flipped her over on her back, straddling her so that she was pinned to the bottom of the boat by the weight of his body.

"Ye are nae going tae escape from me. I will take ye tae August Raymond. I dinnae care in what condition ye arrive. I suggest ye remember that," he warned, his eyes hard as steel. Taking up her broken bonds, he tied her hands and feet anew, this time even tighter than before, to the point of almost cutting off her blood supply. Once he had her tied, he turned to leave, any evidence of the man he had once been gone.

"You are a monster!" she cried out to his retreating back.

He paused in the entryway, but did not look back over his shoulder. "Aye, that I am, lass. That I am. It is best that ye nae forget that." Then, he disappeared from view, leaving Idalia alone to mourn her failed escape attempt.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as the truth of her situation sank in. If I cannot escape this man, I will never see home again.