Chapter 23
Leah cried out as she watched the workman’s fist connect with Katie’s cheek and her friend was knocked off her feet, falling to the ground.
Incensed, Leah shoved him hard in the back, but he was a large fellow, and he merely spun around on the spot, showing her very clearly why Katie had screamed.
He held a dirk in his hands and brandished it at her threateningly as he advanced on her.
“Who are you?” she asked, glancing behind her for any escape route.
There was a narrow path at the back of the castle that she could possibly take, but he looked as though he would be much faster than her.
“Ye’ll be silent if ye ken what’s good for ye,” he growled, pointing the knife at her, the blade glinting menacingly.
Behind him, Katie had scrambled to her feet. There was a cut on her cheek and fear in her eyes, but as she saw what he was doing, she lunged at him like a banshee.
Leah gasped as he turned, obviously expecting the attack.
In a swift move that Leah had not anticipated, he ducked behind her, pressing the knife against her throat, and Katie stopped in her tracks, standing still as they stared at one another.
“If ye dinnae want yer friend to end up like MacWatt’s first wife, ye’ll stay exactly where ye are until we are out of sight, lass. I dinnae wish to hurt ye, but I will.”
“Leah,” Katie whispered.
“It’s alright,” Leah said as she was dragged backward down the path.
With a cold realization, she became aware that they were entirely out of sight of any servants who might still be in the courtyard, and no one knew where they were.
“Stay where ye are, or I’ll slit her throat!” the man hissed, and Katie did just as she was told.
Leah watched her friend disappear from view as they rounded the corner of the castle. She could tell that the blade against her throat was sharp enough to kill her in an instant.
She was shoved forward, a brutal hand in her hair keeping her bent double and pulling her with some force in a new direction.
She clawed at the hand that held her hair, and her assailant swore violently as she dug her nails in as deep as she could. She was released only to be knocked to the ground by the back of his hand, a stinging blow across her face that knocked the wind out of her.
Leah fell to the floor, but as he bent over her to grab her hair again, she kicked and screamed as loudly as she could. He fought her, lifting her off the ground despite her violent kicking at his legs.
“Hold still if ye dinnae wish me to chop off one of yer bonnie fingers,” he snarled, and she felt a rope bind her hands behind her back. He tied it so tightly that she winced in pain.
In one swift move, she was lifted over the saddle of a horse and pushed against the sweaty animal’s neck as he mounted behind her. He grabbed her hair again, pulling violently on the strands so that she would look up at him.
“I’ll kill ye if ye make another sound, lassie. Ye stay quiet, and all will be well.”
With that, they cantered away, the castle and any hope of rescue disappearing from view.
Magnus and Kenneth had been poring over maps for hours, and Magnus stood up, stretching his aching back.
“There is a large tract of land between here and Gibson Castle. If we can station some men on the border just for a short time, it might mean that we have more chance of deterring any attack.”
“Do ye think it likely?” Magnus asked, looking at the myriad of lakes and rivers that he shared with the Gibson estate.
They had survived an uneasy peace for years, and Magnus knew why Kenneth was suggesting such a thing, but he would much prefer to have visited the man and made peace rather than shoring up the defenses on their borders.
He looked up as someone shouted from the courtyard.
Kenneth’s hand was on his sword in an instant. “What was that?”
They both charged out of the room, swords drawn, and Magnus raced down the steps of the castle to find several confused-looking servants staring at something in the distance.
He squinted at it. It looked like a cloaked figure atop a horse galloping at full speed. He and Kenneth exchanged a confused look as they waited for it to get closer.
As soon as the rider was within sight, Magnus cursed wildly, sprinting forward to greet them.
“Katie!” he shouted, running at full pelt over the bridge as the horse Katie was riding came to a sudden halt and she all but fell off its back.
“You must help her! Laird MacWatt, you must help her. He’s taken her—you must go to her.”
Magnus felt a leaden weight in his heart as Katie fell into his arms. She had a nasty cut on her cheek that was bleeding and mottled with a violent black bruise.
“Catch yer breath,” he urged, injecting as much calm into his voice as he could. “Who has her?”
He knew she could only mean Leah. The image of Elizabeth’s crumpled body flashed in his mind, and he felt bile rise in his throat.
“He was one of the workmen. He took us to the back of the castle, but he hit me, and then he took Leah! You have to go after him. It took me an age to get here. I don’t know where he is taking her or where they have gone.”
Magnus turned at the sound of thundering horses’ hooves. Kenneth had mounted his own horse already, riding at a gallop toward them, bringing Magnus’s mount with him.
Magnus turned back to Katie, taking her by the shoulders so that she looked up at him. “Are ye hurt, lass?” he asked.
“No. No, I’m alright. Just get Leah back!” she wailed.
“We will. Go to Betty, get that cut seen to. We’ll find her.”
And I’ll kill whoever has taken me wife.
Without a word, he mounted his horse, and he and Kenneth rode at full speed toward Leah’s castle.
Magnus had never felt so helpless in his life. Katie’s wild eyes had told him everything he needed to know. Whoever had taken Leah must be the same person who’d taken Elizabeth.
God kens what they would do to her.
He watched Kenneth spur his horse forward, his shoulders tight and almost flat against the beast’s neck. The horses were tired by the time the castle came into view, and Magnus looked around the surrounding lands, cursing the trees that obscured their view.
“Where?” he shouted over the pounding of the horses’ hooves. “Where would he have taken her?”
“I cannae say, M’Laird. Three clans are close by, but all across the water—he will have to get her to a boat to take her anywhere. We have time.”
Magnus was not so sure. Katie had taken some time to reach them, what if they were too late?
They galloped through the courtyard, scattering the servants in their wake, and headed straight to the back of the gardens where Katie had said the culprit had taken Leah.
Kenneth was an excellent hunter and promptly spotted the footprints leading toward the water’s edge. It looked as though there had been a scuffle, and Magnus roared in rage as he saw the pin from Leah’s hair lying on the ground beneath them.
“Where have they gone?” he shouted.
“There!” Kenneth pointed. “It can only be this way—follow me.”
His horse reared as he kicked its flanks, and they both cantered around the edge of the castle.
As they passed the high walls, Kenneth’s gaze was focused on the ground. He turned his horse in a circle, analyzing something with interest, and then his eyes went wide and he looked up.
“There are tracks heading to the treeline. Hurry!”
Magnus was counting the distance in his head. It was under a mile to the edge of the island from here. If the man was swift, he might already have taken her across the water.
“MacDoon Bay,” Kenneth shouted, pointing ahead of him again. “It’s the only place with a beach on this side of the island. The rest is sharp rocks. He couldn’t have moored up anywhere else.”
They galloped through the woods, the horses panting and sweating heavily. Magnus had always loved the woods, but now he cursed them, as their way was barred by thick branches, and they had to negotiate around dense trees.
If anything had happened to Leah, he would kill every man responsible.
Suddenly, he heard a high-pitched scream, and he spurred his horse in the direction of the sound, leaving Kenneth in his wake.
As the trees became thinner toward the edge of the island, he could see the beach, such as it was, only a whisp of sand against a promontory of rock.
Just visible over the brow of a small hill was a woman’s skirt held high over a man’s shoulder, her feet kicking wildly as she fought against him.
Magnus leaped from the horse and then sprinted through the undergrowth and out into the open, seeing Leah held aloft as the man tried to deposit her in a small boat at the edge of the water. Her hands might be bound, but she was kicking at him like a demon.
As soon as she saw him, she screamed, and her attacker turned as he followed her gaze, scrambling for his dirk as he dropped her into the boat and turned to face Magnus as he charged at him.
The man was half his size and lanky. Magnus did not pause as he continued to run at full pelt, plowing straight into him, taking great satisfaction in knocking him to the ground.
The man bellowed, falling backward and onto the sand as Magnus loomed over him.
“Who sent ye?” Magnus demanded, holding his sword to the man’s throat.
The man’s eyes narrowed with hatred as he looked up at him, a cruel smile on his ugly face. “M’Laird says ye should have learned yer lesson the first time,” he spat.
Magnus raised his sword and plunged it swiftly through the man’s heart, killing him instantly.
He stood back as the man let out a quiet sigh, the light leaving his eyes as his body went lax on the sand.
A whimper sounded from the boat, and Magnus turned to see Leah lying awkwardly where the man had thrown her, half in and half out of the tiny craft, her skirts submerged in the water, her body bent painfully over the side of the boat.