Chapter 22 #2
little daughter looked, lying in a pool of her own blood, like a
small broken bird.”
“I came into the room,” Ian said, “and fell
weeping across my father’s body. And I begged you to run me through
with your sword so that I could be with my father.”
Douglas blinked, remembering the scene he had
blocked for all these years from his memory.
“Aye. I do recall.” His voice lowered. “I
spared your life and told you that the only way you could ever be
with your father was to lead a wicked life. I warned you not to
follow in his ways or you would one day join him in the fires of
hell.”
“Aye.” Ian’s eyes glinted with a dangerous
light, and Lindsey shivered at the evil she could read in their
depths. “Remember well your words, old man. This night, I intend to
make you suffer as I have suffered all these years without my
father.”
His hands closed over Lindsey’s upper arms,
lifting her to her feet. Drawing a dirk from his waistband, he held
it up so that the blade reflected the dancing light of the fire.
But instead of placing it to her throat, he cut through the ropes
that bound her.
“Before you die, Douglas Gordon, you will beg
me to kill you as I once begged you. And I will show you the same
mercy. You will be forced to live with all your pain.” He smiled, a
cruel, dangerous smile. “You will first see your daughter ravaged
by me and my men. And then you will see your sons die before your
eyes. And only then will you be allowed to join them.”
“I beg you, take my life and spare my
children,” Douglas cried.
“Ah. Already you beg.” He turned to his men
with a triumphant laugh, and then his voice changed to the deadly
whisper that Lindsey had heard before. “It is time to sample the
lady’s charms.”
Lindsey’s eyes went wide at the sound of that
terrifying whisper. “It was you who spirited me away from my
father’s camp.”
“Aye, my lady. And this time I will not fail
in my plans for revenge.”
As he pushed Lindsey in front of him toward
the fire a tall figure stepped into his line of vision. There was
no mistaking Jamie MacDonald. In his hand glinted the jeweled hilt
of a sword.
“Release the woman,” Jamie commanded.
For a moment Ian froze. Then, seeing no other
figures emerge from the woods, he threw back his head and
laughed.
“You are alone and you think to fight all of
us?”
“Aye.” Jamie’s eyes narrowed as he studied
the lass in Ian’s arms. He had heard and seen enough to know that
this man was capable of doing all that he had threatened. “And a
hundred more, if need be. Release the woman.”
At the fire in Jamie’s eyes, Ian’s smile
faded. Until this moment, he had not really understood the fervor
that drove the Heartless MacDonald.
He motioned to his men. “Kill him.”
As the highwaymen drew their swords and
advanced, they tasted the full force of Jamie’s wrath. His anger
was a terrible thing to behold as he leaped, thrust, danced,
disarming all in his path.
Alarmed, Ian tossed Lindsey to the ground and
joined in the battle. As the sound of blade hitting blade echoed
through the forest, Lindsey crawled to where her father and
brothers lay and quickly cut through the ropes that bound them.
When they were free they leaped into the fray, driving the villains
back.
When Ian realized that he and his men were
being badly defeated, he looked around for an escape. At the edge
of the clearing, Lindsey had taken up a sword to guard her two
wounded brothers. Moving quickly, Ian crept up behind her and gave
her arm a vicious twist until the weapon dropped harmlessly to the
ground.
As Murray and Donald struggled to their feet
he hissed, “If anyone should follow me, I will slit the lass’s
throat.”
Her brothers were forced to watch helplessly
as Ian dragged Lindsey into the forest. Ignoring the pain of their
exertion, they gave a loud cry.
Jamie heard their cry and from the corner of
his eye saw the flash of color as Lindsey disappeared into a
thicket. Without thought to his own safety he dodged the flashing
blades and raced into the forest. A moment later he saw two shadows
on the trail ahead of him. With a cry of rage he leaped forward,
sword drawn.
Ian whirled, drawing Lindsey in front of him
like a shield. “Unless you halt and drop your weapon, I will plunge
my sword through the lady’s heart.”
Jamie had no doubt that this madman would do
as he threatened. He remembered a time when he would have
fearlessly acted to disarm such a villain without regard to the
consequences.
But that was before Lindsey. He felt the
river of sweat between his shoulder blades. Fear. But not for
himself. His life would mean nothing without Lindsey. For her sake,
he must play by the villain’s rules.
He tossed his sword to the ground and saw
Lindsey’s eyes widen with fear.
Ian’s lips curved into a smile. “Who would
have thought the Heartless MacDonald would surrender so easily?” He
brandished his sword. “Now kneel before me.”
Jamie knelt in the damp earth, all the while
gauging the distance between himself and Ian. If he were to charge
quickly, he would take the blade meant for Lindsey. And if he could
stay conscious long enough to put up a fight, she would be able to
make her way back to her father and brothers. His life would be
little enough to pay to save hers.
Ian read the fire in Jamie’s eyes and
sneered. “Do not try it, MacDonald. My aim is true. My blade will
find your heart with the first thrust.”
“It does not matter,” Jamie said, preparing
himself for the leap. “Nothing matters now except that the lady be
free of your curse forever.”
In the blink of an eye Lindsey saw him get to
his feet. “Nay, Jamie,” she cried.
Then she saw a snarling, silvery shadow leap
from the floor of the forest and launch itself toward Ian’s
uplifted sword.
“Wolf,” she cried in alarm, as she saw Ian’s
sword slice through the hound.
The distraction gave Jamie the moment he
needed to take up his sword and attack. Within minutes, Ian lay
dead. Jamie turned to find Lindsey kneeling in the dirt, with
Wolf’s head cradled in her lap. Tears streamed down her face as she
watched the blood stream from the great shaggy beast.
Jamie knelt beside her and ran a hand over
the matted fur. Rage churned through him. Must everyone and
everything he loved be sacrificed?
“Oh, Jamie. Praise heaven you came in time.”
Lindsey felt the first sting of tears as relief flooded through
her.
As she sought to comfort the gravely wounded
hound, she whispered, “He finally came close enough to let me touch
him. But the price was too high. He willingly gave his life for
mine, as you were about to do.”
Jamie’s rage boiled over. He could not bear
to look at the pain in her eyes. Nor would he risk the loss of any
more of his loved ones.
Giving no thought to Lindsey’s father and
brothers who gathered around them, he grasped Lindsey by the arms
and hauled her roughly to her feet. His eyes narrowed as he studied
her. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and keep
her safe. But there was still so much to be done. And one pledged
to the queen’s safety could not afford the time to be tender.
With fire blazing in his eyes he turned to
the wounded lads, Murray and Donald. “Are you strong enough to ride
to your father’s fortress?”
“Aye.” Murray looked puzzled at the anger in
Jamie’s tone.
“Then you will escort Lindsey there.”
Lindsey’s eyes widened. “I will not...”
The hands gripping her upper arms tightened
their grasp until she cried out. His words were a low rasp of fury.
He spoke each word with emphasis. “You will do as I order.” Turning
to her father he added, “I will brook no arguments, Douglas. I want
the lass returned to your fortress at once.”
Lindsey bristled. Every curse she had ever
learned rushed to her lips. “I will not have this son of a viper
order me about like a servant. I would rather...”
Douglas lifted a hand to still her tirade.
Turning to Jamie with a solemn nod he said, “It will be as you
say.”
With a look of disbelief Lindsey’s gaze went
from Jamie to her father, then back to Jamie’s implacable look.
“You go too far, my lord. I will never
forgive you.”
Jamie turned on his heel and strode away.
For long minutes she stared after him,
battling a tangle of jumbled emotions. At last she swung away. To
her brothers she directed, “Bring the hound.”
“He is beyond saving,” Donald said as gently
as possible.
She wiped her tears with the back of her
hand. She would not cry over Jamie MacDonald. He was, unworthy of
her tears. Her look of determination matched Jamie’s. “Bring
him.”
As she bid her father and young brothers
goodbye, Jamie stood alone, his face a grim, unreadable mask.