Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"Where the hell is he?"
Lachlann's voice echoed through the dungeon, sharp enough to make the guard on duty flinch. The cell—the one that should have contained Torquil's archer—stood empty, its door hanging open like a silent accusation.
"Me laird, I—" The guard's face had gone pale. "I checked the locks meself before the night watch. They were secure, I swear it."
"And yet," Lachlann gestured at the empty cell with barely controlled fury, "He's gone."
He moved closer, examining the lock. No signs of forced entry. No scratches on the metal, no damage to the hinges. Which meant only one thing.
Someone had opened it from the outside.
Someone with a key.
"How many guards were on duty last night?" Lachlann demanded.
"Three, me laird. Meself, Jimmy, and young Thomas."
"Where are they now?"
"Jimmy’s with the morning patrol. Thomas should be—"
"Find them. Both of them. And I want every guard who had access to these keys assembled in the hall within the hour." Lachlann's jaw clenched. "Someone let that bastard out. Someone in this castle betrayed us."
The word tasted like ash in his mouth. Betrayed. Not just him, but Alba. Because that archer had been their best chance at learning Torquil's plans, at understanding the threat before it struck.
And now he was gone.
The guard was already running up the stairs, shouting for the others. Lachlann stayed in the dungeon, moving methodically through the cell, searching for anything the prisoner might have left behind. A scrap of cloth. A message. Any clue about who had helped him or where he'd gone.
Nothing.
The cell was as clean as if it had never been occupied at all.
Christ.
Lachlann slammed his palm against the stone wall, welcoming the sharp sting of pain. He needed to think. Needed to approach this strategically, the way his brother Eòin would have. Emotion had no place in solving this problem.
But anger kept flooding through him anyway, hot and vicious.
Someone in me castle. Someone I've trusted, fed, protected. And they've sold us out to that bastard Torquil.
The sound of boots on stone pulled him from his thoughts. James appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his expression grim.
"Ye heard," Lachlann said. Not a question.
"Aye. I've got men searchin' every corridor, every room." James moved to stand beside him, studying the empty cell. "The gate guards report no one left through the main entrance last night."
"Then they went over the walls. Or through the postern gate." Lachlann turned toward the stairs. "Get me a full accountin’ of every guard position from dusk until dawn. Someone saw somethin', even if they dinnae realize it yet."
They climbed back up into the castle proper, emerging into morning light that seemed too bright, too normal for the fury burning in Lachlann's chest.
The halls were already chaotic with soldiers running in different directions, voices calling out reports, boots thundering on stone.
"Search the eastern wing!" someone shouted.
"Check the storerooms!"
"Has anyone seen Thomas?"
Lachlann strode through the chaos, his mind racing through possibilities.
Who would betray him? Who had Torquil gotten to? Money could buy loyalty from weak men, and threats could break those who feared for their families.
But which of me people would actually dae it?
The question gnawed at him as he moved through the castle, checking exits, questioning guards, piecing together the timeline of the escape.
The postern gate showed signs of recent use, fresh scratches on the bolt, muddy footprints leading away into the forest beyond.
"Here," Lachlann called to James. "He went out this way."
"Gate should have been locked from the inside." James crouched beside the prints. "One set of tracks. Light step. The archer was alone when he left."
"But someone let him out first." Lachlann studied the surrounding walls. "Someone who knew the watch rotations. Knew when this area would be least guarded."
A soldier ran up, breathing hard. "Me laird! We cannae find Thomas. His chamber's empty, and no one's seen him since the watch change."
Lachlann and James exchanged a look.
"Thomas," James said quietly. "The lad's barely nineteen. Fresh to the guard."
"And probably easy to manipulate." Lachlann's hands clenched into fists. "Or bribe. Find him. Now."
The soldier saluted and ran off.
Time seemed to blur as Lachlann continued the search, moving from one section of the castle to another, barking orders, demanding answers. The morning sun climbed higher, painting shadows across stone floors that usually felt like home but now felt tainted.
A traitor. In me own castle. While Alba sleeps upstairs, unprotected.
The thought hit him like a physical blow.
Alba.
"James." Lachlann turned sharply. "Double the guard on Alba's chamber. Now."
"Already done. Put Malcolm and Finn outside her door soon as I heard about the escape."
Some of the tension in Lachlann's chest eased. Malcolm and Finn were solid. Loyal. He'd trust them with his life.
With her life.
Because she's Calum's sister. Because I promised tae keep her safe. That's all.
But the lie felt transparent even in his own mind.
He cared about Alba MacKinnon far more than duty required. Far more than was wise, given that she was his best friend's sister. Given that every moment he spent with her, every kiss they'd shared, felt like a betrayal of the Covenant that had bound him and Calum together since childhood.
What would Calum say if he knew?
The thought had been haunting him since that first kiss in the corridor.
That I've been touchin' his sister? Wantin' her? That I stood on the battlements with her last night and thought about a future I have nay right tae want?
Calum would be furious. Rightfully so.
And yet Lachlann couldn't bring himself to regret it.
"Me laird!"
A different soldier appeared, this one carrying something wrapped in cloth. "Found this in Thomas's chamber. Hidden under his mattress."
Lachlann took the bundle and unwrapped it carefully.
Silver coins. English silver. And a note written in a hand he didn't recognize.
The MacKinnon girl fer twice this amount when you deliver her.
The words blurred as rage flooded through Lachlann's vision.
"Seal the castle," he said, his voice deadly calm. "Nay one enters or leaves. And find Thomas. I dinnae care if ye have tae search every inch of this island. Find him."
James took the note, his expression darkening as he read. "This was a tactic tae get inside our defenses."
"Aye." Lachlann's jaw clenched so hard it ached. "And now they ken our routines. Our weaknesses." He turned toward the stairs. "I'm checkin' on Alba."
"Lachlann—"
"I ken what ye're goin' tae say. But I need tae see her. Need tae ken she's safe."
James studied him for a long moment, something knowing in his eyes. "Her braither wouldnae like this. Ye ken that, aye?"
The words hit their mark.
"I ken," Lachlann said quietly. "But Calum's in England. And Alba's here, under threat. That's what matters right now."
Even if it means betrayin' me best friend's trust. Even if it makes me the worst kind of bastard.
He took the stairs two at a time, his boots echoing in the stairwell. Malcolm and Finn stood outside Alba's door, alert and armed.
"Any trouble?" Lachlann demanded.
"None, me laird. Been quiet all mornin'."
Lachlann moved past them, knocking once before pushing the door open.
The chamber was empty.
Alba had been brushing her hair when the door opened.
She turned, expecting Orla with breakfast, and instead found a man she didn't recognize. Tall, rough-looking, with cold eyes that made her stomach drop.
"Who—"
He moved fast, crossing the room before she could scream. His hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her cry.
Alba struggled, driving her elbow back into his ribs, twisting in his grip. But he was stronger, his arm like iron around her waist.
"Stop fightin'," he hissed in her ear. "Make this easier on yerself."
She bit down on his palm. Hard.
He cursed, jerking his hand away, and then his fist connected with the side of her head.
Pain exploded through Alba's skull. The room tilted, darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision. She felt herself falling, felt his arms catch her before she hit the floor.
"Stupid bitch," she heard him mutter, distant and fuzzy.
Then nothing.
Consciousness returned slowly, swimming up through layers of darkness and pain.
Alba's head throbbed, a sharp, sickening ache that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She tried to open her eyes but they felt too heavy, her body weighted down like she was underwater.
Movement. She was moving.
No… being carried.
Strong arms held her, and beneath her she could feel the rhythmic gait of a horse. She was on a horse, slumped against someone's chest, their arm locked around her waist to keep her from falling.
Where am I?
Alba tried to speak but her mouth wouldn't cooperate. Her tongue felt thick, her thoughts sluggish and disconnected.
"She wakin' up?" A different voice. Male. Coming from somewhere beside them.
"Nae yet. Hit her pretty hard."
"Ye shouldnae have marked her. He said no visible damage."
"She bit me."
"I dinnae care if she tried to gut ye. Ye ken the orders."
Hoofbeats. Two horses, moving fast over rough ground. Trees overhead, branches blocking out patches of sky. The forest. They were in the forest.
Alba tried to lift her head, tried to see where they were taking her, but the movement sent fresh pain lancing through her skull and she nearly retched.
"She's stirrin'." The man holding her tightened his grip. "How much further?"
"Another hour, maybe less. The boat's waitin' at the cove."
Boat. They're takin' me off the island.
Fear cut through the fog in Alba's mind. She had to fight, to escape. But her body wouldn't obey, too heavy and uncoordinated from whatever he'd done to her head.
She managed to open her eyes to slits, seeing flashes of forest path, of her captor's rough cloak, of the other rider keeping pace beside them.
"How much did he pay ye?" the second man asked.
"Enough." Her captor shifted in the saddle. "Half now, half when we deliver her."
"And the guard? Thomas?"
"Already got his share. Fool did exactly what I told him—opened the archer's cell, made sure the postern gate was unlocked." A dark laugh. "Probably still hidin' thinkin' he got away with it."
Thomas. The traitor was Thomas.
Alba tried to hold onto that information, tried to stay conscious, but the darkness kept pulling at her, dragging her back down.
"She's out again," her captor said. "Better fer both of us. Less screamin' this way."
The last thing Alba heard before unconsciousness took her completely was the steady rhythm of hoofbeats and the distant sound of waves crashing against rocks.
They were heading for the coast.
For Torquil.
And no one knew she was gone.
"Search every inch of this castle!"
Lachlann's roar echoed through the corridors as soldiers scattered in all directions. He stood in Alba's empty chamber, his hands clenched so tight his nails drew blood from his palms.
Gone. She was gone.
The window stood open, the curtains moving gently in the morning breeze. Her brush lay on the floor beside the bed, strands of dark hair still caught in its bristles.
And on the windowsill, barely visible unless you knew to look—was a single drop of blood.
"They took her through the window," James said from behind him, his voice carefully controlled. "Lowered her down on a rope, most likely. Malcolm and Finn wouldnae have heard anythin' from the corridor. And that is how they entered."
Lachlann couldn't speak. Could barely breathe past the rage and terror warring in his chest.
I promised to keep her safe. Promised Calum. Promised her.
"We'll find her," James continued. "We'll—"
"They have a head start." Lachlann's voice came out rough, broken. "They could be anywhere on the island by now. Or worse."
"They'll take her tae Torquil. Which means they need a boat." James moved to the window, studying the rope marks on the sill. "The eastern coves. That's where they'd go. Hidden from the castle, easy access to the mainland."
Hope, desperate and fierce, flared in Lachlann's chest.
"Gather every able man. We ride fer the eastern coast. Now."
He turned toward the door, but James caught his arm.
"Lachlann. Ye shouldnae be ridin’. And if we ride in blind, if this is a trap—"
"I dinnae care if it's a trap." Lachlann met his friend's eyes. "They have Alba. That's all that matters."
"And when Calum finds out ye risked everythin' fer his sister? When he learns ye've been—"
"Then I'll deal with that when it comes." Lachlann pulled free. "But right now, I'm gettin' her back. Even if it costs me the Covenant. Even if it costs me his friendship."