Chapter Twenty-Six
Jamie wasn’t sure the castle ruins would be where they’d take her, but it was the only place he had to start.
He’d seen the image in the tapestries—the one of him and Brianna together.
When he told his brothers that’s where they were headed, neither of them objected.
They took him for his word, nodded, mounted their war horses, and headed away from Dundale at a full gallop.
They had left both Chloe and Evie behind. Callum refused to let his lady wife come along since she was with child. Chloe didn’t want to leave her alone in the near-deserted castle. So it was agreed the three of them would ride out to face their fate with the MacDonalds.
It was still dark as they made their way from Dundale toward the coast. He pushed his horse as hard as he dared for short bursts, the hooves pounding the ground, slipping slightly on loose gravel.
He had to slow as the terrain became rocky and dangerous, but that made his heart race and his sense of urgency no less.
As dawn pricked the sky, he knew it was too dangerous to continue to push his mount. Every thud of the hooves on the ground matched that of his beating heart and brought him that much closer to Brianna. Still, he cursed the slowness and the delay.
The sharp salt-tinged wind whipped past them and he knew they were nearing the ruins of Castle Caelnar.
Ahead, he saw what remained of the castle as it loomed against the first faint signs of morning.
With a moonless sky, there was nothing to light their way.
But that was just as well. He wanted to arrive by the shadows with, hopefully, the element of surprise.
As they neared, they came to a slow trot and then halted.
Callum pulled to a stop next to him on one side, Malcolm on the other.
Ahead, they saw small orbs of flickering light.
He assumed they must be torches. In the center, there was a huge bonfire casting yellow-orange light in a semicircle.
The outline of tents dotted the area, indicating MacDonald had made a hasty camp at the foot of the ruins.
“What’s yer plan, brother?” Callum asked. His blazing blue eyes were pinned on the camp ahead.
Jamie remained silent a moment as he considered all the options. They were far outnumbered. That much he knew. It would be unwise for them to charge in with swords swinging. They would quickly be overtaken and captured.
There had to be another way. And he thought he knew what that way was.
“I’ll surrender to them,” he said.
“Are ye mad?” Malcolm snapped.
“That’s what they want,” he said. “They want me and the keystone.”
Malcolm snorted his objection. Callum made a motion for him to be silent. The eldest leaned on his saddle horn and peered at him.
“And then what, Jamie? Ye have an idea, don’t ye?” he asked.
“Once I’m in the camp, they’ll want the keystone. They’ll capture me and take the stone to give to Brianna. Then, they’ll make her use it,” Jamie said.
A broad grin spread on Malcolm’s face. “And that’s when we attack. Aye?”
“Nay,” Callum said. “We need a diversion.” He cut a glance to Malcolm. “Like before.”
“I’m afraid the lasses are no here to create that diversion,” Malcolm said.
Jamie knew they referred to the fire at the MacDonald stronghold. That was the only thing that had helped them escape, while he was still a prisoner. But Callum was right. They needed a diversion.
“Aye, brother,” he said. “We need a diversion. While I surrender myself, the two of ye can set fire to the camp.”
“More fire, eh?” Malcolm chuckled.
“’Tis effective,” Callum said. “All right. We’ll leave the horses here. Malcolm, ye take the left. I’ll go right. Jamie, ye will surrender yerself and when ye do, that’s when we take the torches and light it up.”
“Then, when the camp is in chaos, I’ll find Brianna,” Jamie said.
“Sounds easy enough.” Malcolm dismounted and pulled his horse toward a copse of trees. “When ye have her, make haste for the horses. Then we’ll get back to Dundale.”
The plan was easy and that’s what worried Jamie the most. Anything and everything could go wrong. But he was willing to risk it to save Brianna. Once he had her back and away from the MacDonalds, then they’d figure out how to shift the timeline.
He and Callum both dismounted, tying their horses next to Malcolm’s within the shadows of the trees.
He hoped this worked. And if it didn’t…he shoved away those thoughts.
Callum placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
In the faint light of the new day, his brother’s eyes were nothing more than dark orbs.
“Good luck and Godspeed, brother,” he said.
“And to ye,” he replied.
He cut one last glance at Malcolm who gave him an encouraging nod.
He turned toward the camp, took a deep cleansing breath and expelled it.
He slipped his hand into his sporran, wrapping his fingers around the cold keystone and relief sputtered through him.
It was still there. Not that he had any doubt, but it was always good to check.
He started down the slope of the hill toward the crude camp, his eyes pinned on the bonfire glowing in the center of it all. There, MacDonald held Brianna. There, he would find her and release her.
He focused on one step after another as he went down the hill, his lungs and calves burning with the exertion.
His heart thudded against his chest as his eyes skipped from one tent to another, looking for signs of light.
For signs of her. But he didn’t see her.
Likely, MacDonald would keep her close to him.
She was his prized possession at the moment. He’d never let her out of his sight.
Behind him, he heard the soft swish of steps in the heather. One to the right. One to the left. He knew this was his brothers headed for the camp to carry out their plot. The moment the camp was in chaos was his one and only chance to find her, grab her, and get out.
He was at the edge of the light now. He stepped into the camp, within the circle of light, and paused. No one seemed to notice his arrival. He would have to make his presence known before his brothers torched the place.
He moved deeper into the camp, shuffling his feet. When he was close to the center bonfire, he pulled his sword with a shing that finally got the attention of the men MacDonald had left to guard the camp.
They leapt into action, pulling their own swords and pointing them at him. He dropped his and held his hands up in surrender.
“I’m Jamie MacLeod,” he announced. “I want to see yer laird.”
Two of the men came forward and took him by the arms, dragging him away from the edge of the camp without a word. Good. His plan had worked. Now all he needed was to find Brianna. They took him through the camp to a large tent on the other side of the bonfire. There, two men guarded the entrance.
“Tell the laird we have a gift for him,” one of the men holding him said. “Tell him we have Jamie MacLeod.”
*
Brianna heard the commotion outside the tent. Her head snapped in the direction of the man’s voice. She bit down on the gag as she peered at the flap, trying to see through the canvas. But all she saw were the shadowy outlines of the men. Her hands were bound behind her once again.
Rory was not in the tent, though. She was left alone with Bruce and John. Bruce rose to his full height and stepped toward the tent flap. He shoved it open, poking his head out and saying something. His words were muffled.
And then she heard the words that made her die a little inside.
We have Jamie MacLeod.
Oh, God, no. They’d captured Jamie. And he had the keystone. Now they were all doomed. There was more talking outside the tent, but she couldn’t make out the words from the hushed men’s voices. Bruce backed into the tent, turning to face them, his eyes gleaming with triumph.
“We have him,” he said.
“That means we have the stone,” John replied. “Bring him.”
“No,” Bruce said. “We need to find Rory.”
“Forget Rory,” John said. He rose to his full height and advanced on his brother. “Bring in MacLeod. He has the stone, aye?” The last was directed to her. “Doesn’t he, lass?”
She said nothing. Merely glared back at him. When she didn’t respond, he backhanded her. Her head snapped to one side, and she tasted blood.
“Answer me,” he snapped.
“John, we haven’t time for this. We know he has the stone. We can finally get what we want.” Then to the men outside, “Bring him.”
Brianna blinked her surprise as she snapped her head toward Bruce. What did it mean—they could get what they wanted? Did he and John plan to double-cross Rory MacDonald? If that was the plan, they were stupid to think they could use the keystone for themselves.
Two men stumbled inside the tent. Between them was Jamie. His eyes instantly landed on hers and in his expression she read something strong and defiant. Had he surrendered himself to get to her? If he had, did he truly have the keystone on him?
She hoped he’d had the good sense to leave it behind with Callum or Malcolm.
“Search him,” Bruce ordered. He appeared to be the one in charge.
One of the men reached for his sporran. Jamie jerked his arm free and batted his hand away. “Dinnae touch me,” he said, his tone one of warning.
Bruce chuckled. “Ye have the stone, don’t ye?”
For a brief moment, she saw the guilt flash through his eyes. Oh, God. He’d brought the stone with him.
“Your silence tells me ye do,” Bruce continued. To the guards, he said, “Leave us.”
That didn’t bode well. Jamie stood his ground, his jaw clenched. The two men who’d brought him ducked out of the tent. When they were gone, Bruce turned his attention back to him.
“Hand it over.”
Brianna wanted to scream at him not to do it, but the look he gave her told her he intended to hand it over. It was clear in that moment he was willing to give up the stone for her. If she hadn’t been so angry about that, she would be touched.
Surely, he had another plan up his sleeve. He didn’t intend to hand over the keystone—the very item that had brought her here, the one the MacDonalds wanted, the one that had cursed the clan for generations.
Shouts outside the tent caught their attention. Her heart thudded against her chest, her breath fluttering in and out as she looked at Jamie. His face remained impassive, but she thought she saw a hint of smug satisfaction there.
“Go see what’s going on,” Bruce ordered.
“Are ye ordering me now, brother?” Fire flashed in John’s eyes.
Another louder, more urgent shout. Bruce pulled a dagger from his belt and pointed it at Brianna.
“Just go check. I’ll keep an eye on these two.”
Scowling, John ducked out of the tent, leaving the two of them alone with Bruce.
The moment he was gone, Jamie lunged for the dagger.
Brianna yelped a muffled surprise as he shoved Bruce backward.
The two of them struggled, each one vying for control of the weapon.
They were locked in battle. Bruce stumbled backward toward her. She stuck out a foot and tripped him.
Down he went, tumbling to the hard ground with a muffled oof. As he did, Jamie snatched the dagger out of his hand and pointed it at the man.
“Stay down,” he warned.
A fine sheen of sweat was on Bruce’s face. He glared up at Jamie as he shoved to a sitting position, clutching his elbow.
“I know you have it. I can hear it calling to me,” he said.
Jamie ignored him as he scurried behind her and quickly slashed the rope binding her hands. She shoved off the gag and then she smelled it.
The acrid tang of smoke. Her eyes flew wide as she looked at Jamie.
“We havena much time.” He grabbed her by the hand and dragged her toward the tent flap.
Bruce was getting to his feet, sniffing the air. “You bloody fool. You killed us all.”
He charged toward Jamie, a snarl on his face, as he reached for him.
Jamie ducked. Brianna spun in the tent, looking for something—anything—that could be used as a weapon, but the tent was sparsely decorated.
She heard a sickening thump and realized Jamie had knocked him out.
He lay sprawled on the dirt floor of the tent.
He reached for her hand, taking it, and pulling her to him. There was an urgency in his eyes as he looked at her. Then he held up his hand, showing her his burned palm. A burn that resembled hers.
“What—how?”
“When ye gave me the stone. The tapestries changed. I’m the one on the hill with ye. No’ yer sisters.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We have to go.”
He tugged her out of the tent. The camp was in chaos. The fire spread from both ends of the camp, heading for the middle, where they’d been. Flames licked the pale dawn sky, turning it into a chaotic inferno. Men shouted, running for water.
Worst of all was Rory MacDonald running for the tent wielding his great axe. Thankfully, the weapon wasn’t glowing. Yet.
The moment he saw them, his lips curled into a cruel snarl of a smile.
Before they realized what was happening, they were surrounded.
Jamie was ripped from her, their hands yanking apart.
Someone grabbed her from behind while another one of the MacDonald men punched Jamie in the gut.
He sputtered a breath as he doubled over.
His surrender was supposed to save her. Instead, it had doomed them all.
Rough hands wrenched her arms behind her back.
Figures emerged from the smoke and in the distance, she heard familiar voices shouting. Callum and Malcolm. Their plan to set the camp on fire had unraveled quickly. A blade was pressed to her throat as she stood rigid against the man holding her.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Callum and Malcolm fighting their way to them.
One of them fell but she didn’t see who, as they were driving in retreat from the camp inferno.
Smoke billowed into the sky and tumbled through the tents.
She tried to hold her breath but she started to cough and sputter.
“Bring them!” MacDonald shouted.
He turned and fled the camp, heading away from it and toward the slope that would lead up to the castle ruins.
The man holding her wrapped a meaty hand around her arm and dragged her along.
She stumbled and tripped over the edge of her gown, nearly falling face first. The only thing that kept her on her feet was the man.
It was hard to see through the smoke but as they headed away from disaster, she saw Rory MacDonald hold aloft his great axe.
It was glowing.