Chapter 35
Burke didn’t want to let Storm out of his sight but he knew that in a few minutes she would walk off and be captured.
It had all been planned. William had scouted an area near Weighton where Storm, Tanin, and Angus would be spotted.
While the two men would be able to escape, Storm would be imprisoned.
Burke and her men would wait in an area where they could remain undetected until the time came to carry out the remaining part of the plan.
They had made certain the capture would take place near Weighton so she would be incarcerated there immediately.
News of her capture would spread fast enough, which was why two days was the maximum time she could remain behind the prison walls.
After that, there was no telling what orders would be given and what fate she would meet.
“Almost time,” Tanin informed Storm and walked away, leaving the couple alone.
Burke tugged her stocking cap down on her head. “You have the knife I fashioned for you tucked in your boot?”
“Yes. I don’t think anyone will find it between the strips of leather. It is concealed quite well.”
He grabbed hold of her. “I hate sending you off like this.”
She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I know, but soon I will return with your brother and we will all set sail safely for America.”
“Promise,” he urged. “Promise me you’ll be careful and take no chances.”
“I have promised you time and again, but I will promise you this one last time,” she said quietly and squeezed his arm. “I promise you I will be careful, and I promise you I will return safely.”
He kissed her hard and long, fearful that it might be their last kiss.
Their hands held tight for a moment and then drifted reluctantly apart, and she walked away from him, taking one last glance back before the dense woods swallowed her from his view.
He continued to stare at the trees and bushes, thinking for a split second that he should go after her and stop this madness. But then he would insult her with his lack of confidence in her.
He had thought about simply sailing off to America with her and leaving his brother behind.
It wasn’t something he could do. He had promised his father, and he could not break that promise.
Besides, Cullen was his brother, and he could never leave him to die.
He was also reminded of the look of love in Lady Alaina’s eyes when she spoke of his brother. They loved as strongly as Storm and he.
He could not desert them. It would be like failing Storm and himself.
There was no easy choice in this matter and little time to make one. Once his attempt failed, there was no other option left to him, though he tormented his brain trying to find one.
Time had run out, and now he had until tomorrow evening to wait and pray that Storm and his brother made it out of Weighton alive.
Storm ached from the punches and kicks the guards had taken delight in delivering to her. Once they had discovered who she was they had pranced and strutted like braggarts, claiming they had captured the uncatchable Storm.
What they hadn’t realized was that the whole time they had been praising themselves they had paid little attention to the way she had watched every twist and turn and noticed every guard post and key hook along the way to her cell.
She now had a good notion of how to make her escape and how many guards would stand in her way, not to mention which ones she felt wouldn’t present much of a problem.
Burke had entered her mind a few times during capture, but she had chased him away. She’d had to; she couldn’t allow her thoughts to be diverted at such an important time. Her only concern now was to find Cullen and somehow manage to get them out of there by tomorrow night.
The buffoons who had captured her never bothered to search her boot for weapons. They were satisfied as well as surprised by the sizable sword she carried, and assumed it was her only weapon.
She now sat chained to a wall in a cell that held another prisoner who was not Cullen. He was older, thin, and white-haired.
“The angel’s wings have been clipped.”
Storm looked over at the man, who could barely lift his head. “What did you say?”
“You’re the angel who rescues prisoners. You must be, for only the infamous angel would be brought to the likes of Weighton. Who have you come to rescue?”
Here was her chance. “Cullen. I look for a man named Cullen.”
The man managed to keep his head up straight. “If I tell you where this man is, will you take me with you?”
He looked as if he could barely stand on his own, and Storm knew then and there she would not see him die in prison.
“I give you my word.” He smiled, though Storm saw that it pained him to do so.
“The word of an angel is a good thing.” He coughed, and again pain was visible on his thin face. “You will find Cullen in the torture chamber. The guards seem to delight in punishing the man.”
She sighed and shook her head.
“You have no choice?” the man asked.
She knew what he meant. In order for her to free Cullen, she would have to be sent to the torture chamber. By morning at the latest, though tonight might be better, but then she took the chance of being tortured to the point of being useless.
“They like to torture at night,” the man advised. “It would be best if you waited to be sent there tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow night is the escape.”
“I will be ready.”
She laughed along with the man, since how ready could he be?
“When you free me, I will walk on my own. I give you my word,” the man assured her.
“Do not worry. Regardless of whether you can walk or not, you will come with Cullen and me. I will not leave you behind.”
“Bless you,” he said, and Storm caught the glisten of a tear in his eye.
She had a decision to make. Did she take a chance and be sent to the torture chamber tonight, giving her time to see to Cullen’s condition and to determine their escape? Or would tomorrow provide her with enough time?
“Don’t go tonight,” the man cautioned. “Anger them tomorrow and they will take you and leave you there to think about your fate. It will give you the time you need and spare you the torture.”
“You are wise in their ways.”
“I have been here many months. I know their ways and how they think. Many of them like to gather at night to watch the tortures.”
“Which leaves the other guard posts empty,” she said, happy to learn that bit of information.
“The guards believe themselves safe since there are many guards that patrol the outside.”
“I need not worry about the outside.”
He nodded. “You have help.”
“Plenty of it once we leave here,” she assured him.
“Then it’s up to you, me, and that Cullen fellow.”
The night proved difficult for Storm. Sleep eluded her, her thoughts on Burke and her aches painful, not to mention that the guards took great delight in coming into the cell throughout the night to deliver a few more blows to her body.
She wasn’t sure when morning came since the cell had no window, so there was perpetual darkness, but her fellow inmate alerted her to sunrise.
“It is the workings of the prison that keeps me informed of time. Wait a few hours and cause a commotion that will irritate them. They will remove you fast enough.”
“How do I determine nightfall?” she asked.
“The guards gather at sunset to fill themselves with food and drink before torture.”
Storm nodded. “I will return for you.”
He nodded. “Be careful. You are a wee wisp of a thing.”
“An observation that usually proves fatal to many,” she informed him with a smile and began to make a commotion.
It was spitting at the guards and calling them cowards that got her yanked from the cell, but not before she sent the white-haired man a wink.
The revolting smell in the torture chamber nearly had her heaving. She didn’t want to think of the many things that produced such a repugnant odor or that she could very well be the cause of one of the odors if she remained too long.
Luck was on her side when the guards placed her in a cage that hung from a rafter in the ceiling.
“Good place for you to watch the show tonight and know you’ll be next,” one guard jeered.
She spit at him again, and he gave the cage a whack with a heavy stick and sent it swirling around and around and around.
The two guards laughed as they left the chamber.
Storm held firm to the bars of the cage until it finally slowed. She had to focus her eyes since the spinning in her head had yet to stop. When she was finally able to see clearly she looked around the room.
She cringed at the various torture devices—metal pinchers, a stretching rack, prodding irons set hot with fire from the cauldron hanging over flames, and others whose uses eluded her.
She refused to linger too long on them. Just the idea of what pain they could cause made her wince.
She finally spotted a man chained to the wall, his head hanging down to his chest and his body slumped.
He wore only a plaid kilt too soiled to determine the colors.
He had long dark hair that was matted with blood.
That he had suffered endlessly was obvious.
“Cullen,” she called out, having heard the guards’ footsteps fade in the distance and feeling safe that no one would hear her.
The man didn’t move.
“Cullen,” she said more strongly.
He lifted his head, though barely, before it sagged again.
Storm knew what would get his attention. “Cullen, Alaina sent me to free you.”
His head shot up and she winced. One eye was almost swollen shut, and dried blood caked at the corner of his swollen lip.
“Alaina?” he asked, looking around.
“Over here,” she said, working to slip the knife out of her boot and get started on the lock.
Cullen looked about until he finally saw Storm. “Who are you?”
“A friend of Alaina. She waits for you near St. Andrew where a ship will take you both to America.”
“How can this be so?”
The lock was easy, and before she knew it, she was free and standing beside Cullen.
Looking past his bruises, she could see the resemblance to Burke.
She wished there was time to speak with him, but she had to make the escape plan clear.
Between the two of them, they could incapacitate the men and make a swift departure.
“Your brother has come for you.”
“Brother?”
“There is no time to explain about your brother. Just rest assured you have one. This is what we must do,” she said, and outlined her plan of escape. “Are you strong enough?”
He looked her up and down. “Are you?”
She smiled. “You’re just like your brother.”
“We shall see,” he said skeptically. “Tell me of Alaina. Is she well?”
“She waits impatiently for you.”
“As I do for her.” He shook his head. “I do not see how you will be able to get the keys from the guard. You are but a wee thing.”
She grinned. “I’ve done this before. Trust me.”
Less than an hour later Cullen was shaking his head while chaining the gagged guards to the wall. “I can’t believe you overpowered him.”
“Believe it, and know we have little time to get out of here.”
His movement was remarkably agile for a man who had suffered such torture, but then Storm had seen men in worse condition respond with strength. The promise of freedom could give the weakest man courage.
It didn’t take long to free the older man, and though he stumbled, he made his way along with them.
Cullen saw to two other guards and Storm took care of another one herself. They were almost home free. Another twist, one more turn, and they would be out of the prison where Burke and her men waited to help them.
The older man faltered, and Cullen was quick to support him and keep him moving. Storm followed behind, ever ready for the unexpected.
Suddenly a guard came out of nowhere, charging at them.
“Get out of here,” she yelled at Cullen. “I’ll be right behind you.”
He nodded and took off.
Burke and Tanin stood behind the open door, waiting.
“They should have been here by now,” Burke said, his fear near to bursting.
“Give her time. Storm knows what she’s doing and we have time yet,” Tanin said.
Clouds scurried across the night sky as if running away from something just as Storm was surely doing. He couldn’t help but worry that the plan had failed and she was now being tortured.
A shuffle of footsteps interrupted his worries, and he and Tanin braced for attack.
Cullen flew out the door and looked around.
Burke and Tanin were on him in a second.
“You must be my brother,” Cullen said, shoving the older man at Burke. “We’ll talk later. I need to go back and rescue the woman that came for me.”
Burke handed the old man off to Tanin and grabbed Cullen’s arm. “I’ll get her.”
“Not without me. I owe her,” Cullen said, and charged back into the prison.