Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

What! Nay! That’s nae the sort of thing I should be thinkin’ about me future brother-in-law. In fact, just thinkin’ it is a betrayal of me own dear sister.

But even as she secretly chided herself, Catalina had little time to ponder her confusion. At that moment, as if he could read her thoughts, Ivar suddenly snapped up straight, and his eyes hardened once more. The spell was broken.

“I must go,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’m supposed tae be interrogatin’ a prisoner. Are ye sure ye’re all right now?”

Catalina nodded sadly. “Aye. I’m fine. And thanks again fer takin’ such good care of me. I suppose we’ll meet at dinner.”

“Aye, at dinner,” he repeated and, to her disappointment, strode off hurriedly downstairs, leaving her staring after him. After a few moments, she sighed, unable to untangle the flurry of emotions their encounter had provoked in her. On the one hand, it seemed they had turned some sort of corner in smoothing the path of their previously rocky relationship. On the other, the pull she felt towards Ivar and the tension between them felt somehow wrong. And judging by the flash of panic she thought she had spied in those mesmerizing eyes of his, he had felt it too and had hurried away to escape it.

Deciding she needed distraction, she went to find Dahlia and Sofia. But try as she might, as she descended to the lower floor of the castle, her thoughts remained full of her encounter with Ivar and what this new development could mean for the future.

The prisoner had been brought from his cell out into a barred area within the dungeons and was slumped on a stool, with two guards hovering over him like hawks.

“What’s wrong with his arm?” Ivar asked, entering the place and seeing the man nursing his arm. His features were badly swollen from a beating, and his clothes were bloody. He looked a picture of misery, like a man who knew he did not have much longer to live and that his death was going to be very unpleasant indeed.

“An arrow got him,” answered one of the guards, a heavy set, bearded fellow. He reached down and tweaked the broken wooden shaft that was poking from the back of the prisoner’s forearm. The man screamed in agony and flinched away. Both guards sniggered. “Ye dinnae like that, eh? Well, there’s worse tae come if ye dinnae talk,” the bearded one taunted the unfortunate captive, whose face had gone green.

His tormentor turned and grinned maliciously at Ivar. “We gave him a good beatin’ already, Sir. D’ye want us tae batter him again?”

Ivar saw panic in the prisoner’s eyes at that. He could not blame the guards for automatically assuming they should follow his usual methods of interrogation, which indeed featured beating prisoners half to death in an effort to make them talk. However, he thought he would try a bit of an experiment and see how far a different approach would succeed in terms of getting the information he needed.

“Nay, that’s enough,” Ivar said. “One of ye, go and fetch Bròccan. He needs tae take that arrow out before it does any more damage.” He was vaguely aware of the surprised looks on the guards faces as his command sank in, but he ignored them. He noticed that even the prisoner was looking at him with suspicion from the swollen slits surrounding his eyes. “Well, are ye goin’?” Ivar said gruffly, giving the guards a stern look.

“Aye, I’ll go fetch him,” the second guard, a thin, wry fellow with sandy hair, said quickly. He shot his comrade a doubtful glance before hurrying away up the steps to get the healer.

“Give him some water,” Ivar instructed the bearded guard, jerking his thumb at the prisoner.

“Water?” The confusion in the guard’s voice was plain. “But?—”

“Have I gottae keep repeatin’ mesel’?” Ivar asked, reigning in his impatience. “I said, give him some water, will ye?”

“Aye, Sir, water it is.” The guard went to fetch it and returned a few moments later with a full jug. He handed it to the prisoner who took it hesitantly at first, obviously believing he was being toyed with and that the jug would be dashed from his hands at any second. But when he saw Ivar sitting calmly, his elbows on his knees, making no move to stop him, he swiftly drank deeply from the jug. He swilled water around his mouth and then spat blood and tooth fragments onto the floor. Then, he poured the remaining water over his head and face, washing away the worst of the dirt, sweat, and blood.

“Thanks,” he croaked as the guard, looking mystified, took the jug and placed it on a nearby table.

“Leave us alone, will ye?” Ivar told him.

“Aye, Sir,” the guard replied doubtfully, but he left the area as instructed.

Ivar leaned forward on his stool. “What’s yer name?” he asked.

“Adam.”

“Looks like ye’re nae havin’ such a good day, Adam, eh?”

“I’ve had better,” Adam admitted miserably.

“Now, ye ken why ye’re here, and the sooner ye tell me what I want tae ken, then the sooner ye’ll get out of here.”

“Aye, and ye ken just as well that I cannae say a word. If I get out of here alive, I’ll be killed anyway,” Adam replied, running a hand dejectedly through his soaking hair. “I’m a dead man either way.”

“We’ll see,” Ivar replied. “I see ye’re nae wearin’ any insignia. What’s yer clan?”

“I cannae say.”

“Ye’re loyal, I’ll say that fer ye.”

“That and me honor is all I’ve got left,” Adam muttered.

“Aye, and I respect ye fer that, man. But look, the thing is, someone very dear tae me is in danger because of yer master, whoever he is, so I need ye tae give me his name and as many details as ye ken about his intentions.”

Adam shook his wet locks mournfully. “I cannae dae that, I tell ye. I’m afraid of what they’ll dae tae me family if I tell ye anythin’. It’ll be a death sentence fer me wife and kids if I dae.”

Ivar expected that, and he kept his cool, thinking of ways to win the man’s trust.

“I understand that, but what if I promised tae protect ye and yer family from whoever’s behind this attack? Would ye talk tae me then?”

Adam stared at him disbelievingly through swollen, slitted eyes. “Empty promises.”

Ivar shook his head. “I’m Ivar MacLeod, and I keep me promises. I can protect all of ye if ye’ll help me. I can give the order now tae go and fetch yer family, and ye can all find shelter here in the castle, as part of the Macleod clan. If ye agree tae talk, that is.”

Silence reigned between the two men for a few moments, and Ivar could see Adam trying to decide whether to trust him or not.

“Will ye swear an oath tae protect me family?” he asked eventually.

“I swear tae protect ye and yer family and tae give ye a home here in the clan with us,” Ivar said, a certainty growing inside him that his new approach was going to reap benefits without unnecessary cruelty and bloodshed.

“I suppose have nae choice but tae trust yer word,” Adam said at last.

“Ye’ve made the right decision ye will see.” He called over the bearded guard. “Where are yer family? I’ll send someone tae fetch them here,” Ivar asked Adam.

“In Cranleith village, in a cottage next tae the kirk. Ask for the Laurence family. Me wife and three children are there.”

Ivar turned and looked at the guard. “Did ye get that?” he asked.

“Aye, Sir.” The guard repeated the information correctly.

“Well, go at once tae fetch this man’s family and take a few men. Bring them safely back here tae the castle as soon as ye can. Inform me as soon as ye return.”

“Aye, Sir.” With a smart salute and a mystified expression, the guard left.

Ivar turned back to Adam, whose air of disbelief was visibly starting to lift. “Now that’s taken care of, I trust ye’ll tell me all I need to ken.”

“Aye. I was hired as a soldier by Sir Henry Chisholm,” Adam began to explain, setting alarm bells ringing in Ivar’s head. He was the man responsible for starting the war between himself and the Mathesons because he wanted Anastasia as his wife. He was the very man who had dragged the MacLeods into the fray and brought about his impending marriage to Anastasia to put an end to the feud, by order of The Bruce. Cold hatred for him froze his veins, mingling with fear for the safety of his future bride and Catalina.

“Is that so? And what d’ye ken of his plans?”

“Only what we’ve been told through our orders—that Sir Henry is planning on abducting both the Matheson sisters. He wants them watched, so he can learn all about what they dae, where they go, and so on. We were told tae be prepared tae launch an all-out attack on Clan MacLeod, if necessary, tae fetch the lassies away.”

“The bastard,” Ivar murmured under his breath. “We’ll see about that.”

“Can I ask ye somethin’?” Adam suddenly asked.

“Aye.”

“Why are ye doin’ all this? Protectin’ me family and everythin’? Ye said before that someone dear tae ye was in danger from all this. Is it the Matheson sister that ye’re set tae wed?”

Ivar thought for a moment. How should he answer that? “Aye, it is,” he said finally. But inwardly, he was deeply troubled to realize that he was not at all certain which of the sisters he was referring to, his betrothed or Catalina.

At that moment, the sandy-haired young guard returned, with Bròccan in tow.

“Ivar, ye summoned me,” the healer said inquiringly, his bag of supplies on his hip.

“Aye, I want ye tae take Adam here up tae the infirmary. Remove the arrow from his other arm and treat any other injuries he has. Then make sure he has somethin’ tae eat and a rest,” he told Bròccan.

“Of course,” Bròccan replied, immediately going to help Adam up.

Then, looking warningly at Adam, Ivar added, “Dinnae doubt there’ll be eyes on ye all the time, man, so be careful, all right?”

Adam nodded. “Aye, I understand. Thank ye.”

Ivar next turned to the guard and said, “This is Adam. His family will be arriving soon, so send a servant tae find some comfortable accommodation fer them all within the castle walls. See they’re well looked after.” Ivar rose from his stool.

“Aye, Sir,” the guard replied, taking Adam’s’ other arm and helping Bròccan to assist the man out of the dungeons.

“Thank ye,” Adam said as the trio went to leave.

Ivar nodded at him. “We’ll talk more later after ye’ve settled in. I’m grateful fer yer help.”

He watched them go. Then he stood contemplating his surroundings for a few moments. Apart from what Adam had spat out with the water, there was no blood or brains up the walls, and no bits of broken tooth or vomit on the floor, as there usually would have been following one of his interrogations. And yet, he had gotten more than he could have asked for.

And it was all thanks to Catalina.

“Why, Sofia, these paintings are beautiful. Ye have a real talent for catchin’ a likeness,” Catalina said in wonder as she toured the many paintings adorning the walls of Sofia’s private parlor. “How long have ye been paintin’?”

“Och, I’ve been drawin’ since I was a wee bairn and could etch shapes with a stick in the ground, but I’d nae painted like this until I married Haldor. Once he found out I liked makin’ pictures, he made sure I had everythin’ I needed tae make me own paints. And these are the result.” She smiled happily as she swept an arm around the crammed walls.

“Ye’re very clever, ye ken. I love these ones here of the Highland cattle,” Catalina said admiringly, inspecting a series of three paintings featuring the shaggy-haired beasts grazing on the purple moor by the loch. “I notice ye like tae paint places and animals, but what about people? D’ye ever get around tae paintin’ any of them?”

“I’m just gettin’ started on that,” Sofia told her. “I havenae had much practice with people, but I’ve started a portrait of Arne and Thorsten, and I’ve made some sketches of Haldor. But ye must keep it a secret because I want tae paint him and then surprise him with it, as an anniversary gift.”

“That’s a grand idea. Dinnae worry, yer secret’s safe with me,” Catalina promised.

Sofa laughed. “I trust ye. At any rate, if all goes well, I plan tae paint a family portrait sometime, with all of us in it.”

“Me too?” Catalina asked, her imagination caught by the suggestion.

“Yes.”

“Och, I’ve never painted before. ’Tis so excitin’! I wish I was half as talented as ye are!”

They wandered back to the settee where they had been sitting talking over a cup of tea and sat down again.

“So, have they brought up the wee fawn from the inn yet?” Sofia inquired, taking a delicate sip of her tea.

“Nay, nae yet, but I’ll probably be able tae fetch it in a few days’ time, the landlady says. It’s leg is healin’ well, but it would be foolish tae move it before the bone’s properly set.”

“We must find it somewhere tae live, somewhere where it’ll be comfortable and safe.”

“Aye, I’m tryin’ tae think of somewhere suitable. But I cannae help worryin’ about the poor thing bein’ lonely, all by itself with nae maither and nae family tae keep it company,” Catalina confessed.

Sofia put a comforting hand on hers and said, “Dinnae worry, we’ll think of somethin’. Maybe if ye can train it, it could get used tae livin’ with the horses. But I dinnae think it’ll be lonely, not with all the folks around here at the castle. Thorsten is going tae love it, I’m sure. Maybe ye should let him give it a name.”

“What a good idea. I’ll dae that,” Catalina agreed, pleased with the notion.

They were interrupted just then by a maid knocking at the door. “Lady Anastasia is askin’ fer ye tae meet her in yer chambers as soon as ye can, Lady Catalina,” the girl said after bobbing a respectful curtsey to them both.

“All right, thank ye, dear. I’d best go directly and see what she wants,” Catalina said, standing up and smoothing down her skirts. “I’ll see ye at dinner, Sofia. Thanks again for the tea and good company.”

“Och, I’ve enjoyed it. Come and visit me again, eh?” Sofia replied, sending her off with a small, merry wave.

Catalina made her way upstairs to the chamber she shared with her sister. When she entered, she was surprised to see Anastasia lying on the bed with a cold compress pressed to her forehead. Instantly alarmed, Catalina sped over to her side and took her hand.

“Ana, what is it? Are ye ill?” she asked worriedly.

“Just a wee megrim,” Anastasia replied weakly. “I’ll be fine once I have a bit of a rest in the quiet.”

“Och, I’m so sorry. Is there anythin’ I can get fer ye tae make ye more comfortable?”

“Nay, I have all I need,” Anastasia reassured her. Then she squeezed Catalina’s hand and added, “but there is something ye can dae fer me.”