Chapter Fourteen

Rhiannon struggled against the hands gripping her. Despite her efforts, the man held tight. She twisted and writhed in his arms only to have a large burlap sack tossed over her head, engulfing her in darkness and the stench of dead fish. Her stomach roiled.

She kicked and squirmed, her nails tearing the flesh of his forearm. The man grunted at the assault and pain exploded in her cheek and temple as his forearm connected with her head. He dragged her across the ground, then threw her atop a horse. Her skirts bunched up about her legs. The man mounted behind her a heartbeat later, his rough hands pinning her to the saddle.

They were moving very quickly. The shiver of apprehension that coursed through her body did not go unnoticed by her captor. He laughed, the sound grating.

The sounds of battle echoed all around as they rode for what felt like forever. The air seemed warmer than it had a few days before when she and Camden had been forced to take shelter in the cottage. And by the fast gait of the horse, Rhiannon could only assume much of the snow had melted. As they continued and the sounds of battle faded she became increasingly uneasy.

"Where are you taking me? Why are you doing this? Who are you?" The bag lifted from her head as the man slowed his pace. Rhiannon pulled a breath of clean air into her lungs. Her eyes adjusted to the brightness though she was uncertain of where they were.

"Where we're takin' ye is of nae concern of yers. If ye behave well enough, ye might live tae see it." His grin was a dark, evil slash across his face.

"Lord Lockhart will come after me. You'll see."

The man's face brightened. "I'm prayin' that he does." He narrowed his eyes and let them slide down to the thrust of her breasts. "And if he takes his time, mayhap I can sample what ye have tae offer."

She gasped.

He laughed coarsely. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he jerked her head painfully to one side. Her cry of pain opened her lips to the revolting feel of his mouth sucking wetly upon hers. She brought her fist up to beat him away.

He caught her wrist and twisted it painfully behind the small of her back. He released a husky laugh. "God's teeth, yer goin' tae be a fun one tae tame."

Two riders edged closer to them. "Stop playin' with yer catch, Axel. We have tae get her out of here and hand her over before we'll be paid."

The man called Axel grunted and replaced the burlap sack over her head, kicking the horse into a faster gait once more.

"We've captured the cannon," one of his men shouted. Camden couldn't see exactly who it was inside the blue-black cloud that had fallen over the crumbling mass of stones that once comprised the outer wall of Lee Castle.

"Then the victory is ours," Camden called to his men. They hadn't been able to stop the breech, but they'd ended the conflict shortly after. Now that the cannon was no longer in their attackers' control, many of the enemy had turned and fled. Yet Camden had seen a group break through to the castle grounds before anyone could stop them.

"Orrin, do we have any idea where the men who breeched the wall were headed?"

"They got into the keep before we could secure the gates."

"Bloody hell," Camden swore under his breath. "They are after Violet."

"Or did they come for Rhiannon?"

Stunned by the question, Camden froze. "Where are Violet and Rhiannon now?"

As if in answer, the sound of hoofbeats filled the air. A dozen well-armed men raced past the fallen rubble of the wall and out into the open land. As they passed, Camden did not miss the feminine outline of a leg that draped against one of the horse's flanks. The rest of Rhiannon's body was concealed beneath a dark woolen sack.

Camden fought the urge to kick his horse into a gallop and follow. "God's blood, how did they find her so quickly?" His voice vibrated off the fallen stones from the wall. "Did they take Violet as well?"

Camden turned his horse back toward the keep. In the courtyard he dismounted, then raced for the door that led from the courtyard to the storeroom. Orrin followed close behind. In the dim light Camden could make out several men's bodies lying on the floor with arrows protruding from their flesh.

"Violet," Camden shouted into the void. "Hamish, where are you?"

A scraping noise sounded off to his right a moment before Hamish appeared. "My lord, I failed you." He drew closer. "Mistress Rhiannon fought valiantly, but there were too many of them. Four men attacked me. I tried to help her "

"You did what you could, Hamish," Camden said, noting the trickles of blood that raced down his chin, his arms, his thighs, though nothing looked fatal. "Where's Lady Violet?"

Hamish nodded, his eyes wild in his white face. "She's safe. That I know." He turned toward the back wall and as Camden hurried after him, Hamish grasped one of the huge wooden barrels. Orrin helped gently lower the barrel to the floor. Violet crept out from the back.

Camden threw his arms around his niece, hugging her tightly. She returned the embrace, her small body melting into his. His breath caught in his chest. "Praise the saints you are safe."

A shudder wracked her small body as she pulled away, her wide eyes searching his. "I heard men shouting. And Rhiannon screamed." Tears filled her eyes. "They took her away. Just like my mum and daddy."

Gratitude for her safety mixed with fury at his failure to keep Rhiannon safe. "I'll find her and bring her back," he said, his voice trembling with rage. Camden placed Violet in Orrin's arms, then moved to leave the storeroom.

With one hand, Orrin grasped Camden's arm, holding him back. "Are you certain you want to go after her?"

Camden turned to stare at the hand clutching his arm. "Are you suggesting we abandon her to those marauders?"

Orrin released his grip. "I'm suggesting that perhaps they are doing you a favor. They've taken her away, a Ruthven, your sworn enemy. Perhaps it is for the best."

Camden's blood ran cold in his veins. "They are murderers, Orrin. How can I desert her if I am the very cause of her abduction?"

"We have to think this through," Orrin reasoned. "Did they steal her to murder her, or did they do so because they knew you would follow? Who is the real target here? We need to have a plan before you charge into some sort of trap."

Camden knew he wasn't thinking. He was only feeling. I promised to keep her safe. "She's Lady Violet's nursemaid."

"Is that all?"

Guilt twisted Camden's gut. He had unleashed the demon that had captured her. And she needed his help.

Or did he need to help her to appease his own guilt?

Camden released an unearthly growl at the mix of emotions that tortured him fury and guilt, and if he were truly honest, fear, welled up inside.

"I fear for her life because something changed, Orrin. I don't know when. I don't know how. But I stopped hating the sight of her and find I look forward to seeing her instead. She might be a Ruthven, but she is still a living being. And despite her name, I swore I'd protect her."

Camden clasped Orrin's arm, and the tension between them drained away. "If they had meant to kill her, they would have done so here. They took her away instead. To me that means they're looking for information from her or plan to use her as a trap for you instead."

"I must take that chance." Camden said. "Now that the battle has ended, I will take a small contingent of men with me. You and the others should remain here and set things to rights." He headed out the door toward his waiting horse.

Orrin nodded and followed, carrying Violet with him.

Camden mounted and signaled five of the men who were mounted and ready to join him.

"At least they left us a trail in the snow," one warrior said as he fell in behind Camden, waiting for the order to move out. The other men followed his example until all six were ready to continue the battle elsewhere.

Camden surged forward, leading the way. The wind blew cold and crisp against his face as he rode out of the gate of Lee Castle. An overwhelming sense of urgency spurred him to put his horse into a gallop.

He had to find Rhiannon and ensure her safety. But more importantly, he realized with a sudden start, he had to keep her from learning the truth about what he had done.

What would he see in the depths of her eyes if she learned that he'd hired an assassin to kill her and every member of her family? An assassin who had already killed both of her brothers?

He could picture the pain and the betrayal in her bright tawny eyes. "Nay," he swore into the wind. They would reach her before her trust in him came to a bitter end.

A dark figure followed Rhiannon's captors through the woods. He slowed his horse, keeping his distance. If they caught him now, they would not be kind in their punishment. They wouldn't believe he was merely a spy, reporting what he saw for a few silver coins.

He hung back behind the dormant heather shrubs and scrub trees. Their lanky branches did not conceal him fully, but enough to keep him from being detected by either horse or man when he stayed completely still.

He didn't want to be here, tramping through the snow. What had started out as justified revenge now seemed cruel. The girl hadn't hurt anyone, even though everyone at the castle had treated her poorly. She tried to help. And she was good to Lady Violet, gentle like the girl's own mum would have been.

In return they hurt her. But what could he do to stop the torment? He had to stay out of harm's way himself.

He had no choice but to follow, to observe, and report what he saw, no matter how much he might want to help the poor girl. He'd sealed his fate with that first silver coin he'd taken.

As the cold wind burned his cheeks while he waited, watched, he wished he'd made a different choice.

Rhiannon shivered in the saddle as she sat in front of her captor on the horse. The trail they followed had deteriorated into hardly more than a sheep track as they descended into a gorge sparsely dotted with shrubs and trees. The light of day was beginning to fade. Dusk cast gloomy gray shadows across the land. The sparse pines created a ghoulish scene as their long, leering limbs hung down over the path.

She and her seven captors reached a small clearing and came to a stop. Rhiannon detected a sigh of relief from the man in the saddle behind her. "Now tae set the trap for Lockhart."

Rhiannon startled. "You are using me to lure him away from the castle?"

He jumped from the horse and leered up at her, keeping a firm grip on the reins. "Too true, but I expect ye'll be gone 'afore he arrives."

Rhiannon tried to keep her expression neutral. "You're going to kill me?"

A flicker of grudging admiration lit the man's face. "I'd hoped ye'd be more afraid."

She was afraid and sick to her stomach, but she wouldn't let him know that. She cast a furtive glance at the reins in his hands. If only she could yank the reins away, she might have a chance to save herself. "Wouldn't it be better to use me to bargain with?"

The man's smirk of satisfaction faded. "Why would he bargain for ye? Yer family helped tae murder his kin. I'm sure he is more than grateful tae be rid of ye."

Rhiannon flinched at the truth of his words. Why would Camden waste his time on her?

"Fear not, sweetlin'. I won't kill ye right away. The men and I are looking forward to a bit o' sport." He drew a dagger from his belt, running the blade of his long knife between his fingers. "Get down."

When she remained on the horse, he yanked her foot, hard. She landed in the snow with a thump. Cold, wet clumps of snow clung to her skin chilling her even more.

With a sharp laugh, her captor left her there while he and the others tied the horses to the surrounding shrubs, then lit several torches to illuminate the area.

Rhiannon gained her feet and sprinted away from the men, only to be dragged backward a moment later. "Ye aren't goin' anywhere, sweetlin'," her captor growled. He forced her back toward the others, then tossed her on the ground once more before he joined the other men. Her body ached and her temples throbbed. A crescent-shaped sliver of moon hung in the sky. Stars twinkled by the millions, but their light did little to alleviate the ghostly shadows that had fallen over the land.

Again, Rhiannon slowly rose to her feet. When the men started to argue with one another about what should be done with her, she took two steps back into the shadow of the trees. She hoped her captors were as disoriented by the falling darkness as she was. She cast a glance at the horses several feet away. Should she risk it? Could she slide over to the beasts unnoticed this time, untie the tethers, then slip away?

She took another step toward the animals. A branch, partially hidden in the snow, caught in her skirts. She tugged the fabric, praying for silence. The branch snapped. The sound seemed overly loud in the quiet of the trees, but the others seemed not to notice as they continued to argue.

"We should wait 'til he gets here," a large man growled.

"He won't want her. He's a holy man, ye idiot," a smaller captor said, jabbing the first man in the gut with his elbow.

The big man staggered back a step as he doubled over. His arm flew out to deliver a lashing blow to the right side of the man's face. While the two men brawled, the others surged forward, trying to stop them.

Rhiannon ran for the closest horse and untied the reins with trembling fingers. Her heart thundering in her chest, she threw herself onto the animal's back. She put her heels to the horse's flanks and slipped into the darkness.

A thunderous shout sounded, followed by hoofbeats.

Rhiannon leaned forward and pushed the horse into a faster gallop. Wind whipped at her cheeks and the loose ends of her hair flew into her face. With the back of her hand, she forced the hair out of her eyes. All thought centered on the black path before her. She had to find a way to veer off into the trees and hide the horse's footprints before she would be safe.

She pressed her cheek against the horse's trembling neck. The horse was scared. Probably as terrified as she was. "Come on, boy. We have to go faster," Rhiannon urged.

"Ye little hellion. Ye've gone too far this time." A cold, hard edge had crept into the man's voice. He rode alongside her, like a man possessed.

Rhiannon pressed her horse harder, plunging ahead one moment, only to be ripped from the back of her horse a moment later by his cruel grip on her hair. Flung sideways in the darkness with nothing to catch her, Rhiannon hit the ground, her head cracking against something unexpectedly solid beneath the snow. Pain exploded through her right temple moments before she was plunged into darkness.

When she awoke, the world was pitched in darkness, not from the night, but from the blindfold that pressed so tight against her eyes she could not force her lids to open. She realized that she stood upright, her hands bound behind her back. She seemed to be tied to a pole by the waist, arms, and feet. With a surge of panic, she struggled against the bindings, but found no slack.

Robbed of sight, Rhiannon listened to the world around her. She could hear shuffling off to her left. She drew in a quick breath of the pungent odor of her captor's breath.

"It's about time ye woke up," the voice said, from close to her head. "I'd started tae worry I killed ye too early." He chuckled, then stepped back; she could tell by the less intense scent of his rotten teeth.

A shudder of fear rocked her. What did they intend to do to her? By the scent of pine and musty leaves, she knew they had not left the cover of the trees. An odd stack of timber rattled beneath her feet.

They would burn her alive.

"Please," she begged, thrashing her head back and forth.

"I'll make you an offer." The voice was a little more cultured, more sophisticated than the others A newcomer?

"What offer?" she asked.

"Spy for me and I'll let you go."

"What do you mean?" Rhiannon's heart leapt. A way out?

"Tell me where the Charm Stone is kept, and bring me that little girl, and I'll see that you stay free from harm."

"Who are you?" she asked. Betray Violet? Hurt Camden? Rhiannon stilled as she realized that she could never do it. Tears welled in her eyes and slipped beneath the cloth that blinded her. Perhaps she did deserve such an end. After all, she was a Ruthven a dark and evil seed.

"They would not hesitate to betray you." The man cruelly pressed his finger against the bruised flesh of her cheek. "What's it to be? Death or freedom?"

Rhiannon couldn't speak. Her throat locked up as she desperately twisted her hands, searching for a release. She didn't want to die, at least not this way.

A hand cracked across her cheek with violent force. Agony rocked through her. "What's your answer?" the man demanded.

Rhiannon shook her head, trying to clear it of fear and the ringing pain of the blow. She wouldn't bring further suffering upon Violet or Camden. "I'll never betray them."

He struck her other cheek.

Pain exploded inside her head. "I might be a Ruthven, but I will not hurt those who have helped me."

"Then you're a fool." He backed away, the wood snapping beneath his feet as he did. "Burn her. It is the only way for God to purify her soul." The sound of his voice grew more distant. "I cannot tolerate the scent of burning flesh, so I'll leave her disposal to you. Do not fail me this time."

The sound of hoofbeats came to her ears. For a moment hope burst inside, until she realized the sound moved away, not toward her.

She heard a soft hiss. She struggled against the bonds that held her firmly to the pole, frantic to escape. The ropes stayed tight as the acrid scent of smoke filled the air.

"Damn this smoke," a gravelly voice cursed. "The wood is wet from the snow. Help me fan the flames to get the wood to catch faster." A shuffling of footsteps told her the men drew near, no doubt doing as they'd been ordered.

Oh, God's mercy, this was real. Horribly, hideously real. She wrenched her shoulders back and forth. She tried to kick her feet. But the ropes held. She would die, and Camden could do nothing to save her. Pain compressed her chest as a sob escaped her.

Swamped by hopelessness, she leaned her head back against the pole toward the heavens. She tried to recreate their brilliance in her mind. She had to think of something, anything but the inevitable end that awaited her. But even her imagination had abandoned her.

"Please help me," she pleaded, not really expecting any sort of divine intervention. When had God answered her prayers as of late?

Then she felt it, a featherlight dust of cold against her cheek. Then another. Snow. She smiled up at the sky overhead. An answer to her prayer. Though the snow would never be enough to douse the flames that licked at her feet.

At least she could picture in her mind's eye the flakes as they fell to the earth. A small comfort compared to the agony she would feel very soon. But for any distraction, short or long, she was grateful.