Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-One
The amber rays of the sun were starting to set as Alex and his men rode into the bailey of Kintail.
They were greeted by a wall of armed MacKenzie men with unsheathed swords.
Alex glanced around as archers stood upon the parapet, waiting for their laird’s command.
Blood fueled him and Alex didn’t care if King James’s own men were in attendance.
He would fight the bloody lot of them. He had a purpose, a mission, and no one would stand between him and his wife.
He couldn’t believe Sybella had made the journey alone, without an escort, with only her hurt to guide her.
Hell, he could be so blind. His wife had portrayed nothing but kindness, and he hadn’t even given her a chance to explain her actions.
He’d assumed the worst. Remembering the look in her eyes when he said those hurtful words made him feel like a complete idiot.
He needed to make things right. And he would start now.
The MacKenzie walked into the bailey, confident, arrogant. “Laird MacDonell, what brings ye to Kintail?” he asked with an air of indifference.
Alex dismounted, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He didn’t need to look to know that John flanked his every move. His men encircled him, protecting him from the archers. As he had planned, five guards proceeded on foot, ready to take out any archers that dared release their arrows.
“I’ve come for my wife.”
“Ye mean my daughter? For what purpose?” The MacKenzie’s eyes grew openly amused and his lips curved into a cynical smile.
“Ye attempted to kill me and blamed the MacLeod. Be thankful I donna run ye through right where ye stand. Return Sybella or I will take your head.”
A devilish look came into the MacKenzie’s eyes, and he threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Ye dare give me commands? I am Laird Kenneth MacKenzie. I donna take orders or listen to demands made by a mere MacDonell sow. Know your place, lad.”
The MacKenzie men cheered as Alex’s guards stood firm, not listening to the bastard’s taunts. Alex’s father and Donald had taught them well. They were not foolish enough to give the arse anything to use against them. When Alex hesitated to respond, the MacKenzie continued his rant.
“My daughter returned home because ye arenae man enough to get her with child. I believe she compared your cock to that of a mere bairn.”
Alex simply raised his brow and smirked. “I find talking with ye is mar a bhith a’ bruidhinn ri each ’na chadal.” Like talking to a horse in its sleep. “I will nae ask again. Give me my wife.”
The MacKenzie started to pace. “Ye think ye can merely ride into Kintail and give me demands? Tha thu gòrach.” You are foolish. “Let’s make a trade, shall we? I want the stone. Give me the stone and I will give ye Sybella.”
***
Colin paced and ran his hand through his hair. “Where the hell is she? I have been searching for her all day. She didnae break her fast, and she didnae come for the noon meal. How could she take her leave when her horse is still in the stable?” he asked for the hundredth time.
Mary’s expression was troubled. “I donna know. I have checked everywhere. She arrived with only the clothes upon her back, and I took them last eve to be washed. I know she was distraught, but surely she wouldnae wander off in only her nightrail. And her boots are still by the bed. Are ye sure your father said she took her leave to recover the stone? How could she ride back to Glengarry without a horse?”
“She didnae ride back to Glengarry. The stone is nay longer there. I donna like this. Something isnae right. Angus, ye check the parapet and we will search again.”
Colin and Mary checked the bedchambers, opening all of the doors and peeking in.
They went to the ladies’ solar and his father’s study, and no one was within.
They searched the library, running out of places to look.
As a result of their limited options, they happened to walk into the great hall at the same time as Angus.
“She isnae on the parapet.”
When a loud commotion broke out in the bailey, Colin gave a brief nod. “I donna have time for this, Angus. See what that’s about and check the stables again while ye’re out there. Mary, come with me.”
They walked to the gardens in the back of the castle and called Sybella’s name. All of the signs indicated that his sister still remained at Kintail, but she was nowhere to be found. A thought froze in his brain and he shuddered. There was one place he had neglected to look.
The dungeon.
Mary shook her head and approached him. “She isnae here.”
“There is a place I didnae search. I donna want ye coming with me. ’Tis nay place for a woman.”
Mary reached out and touched his arm. “Please tell me your father wouldnae place Sybella in the dungeon. Surely he wouldnae do such a thing. Please tell me he wouldnae, Colin.”
She paled when he closed his eyes.
“I am coming with ye.” She ran to keep up with him, but he didn’t bother to slow his pace.
“Mary…”
“Naught ye can say will stop me. Let’s find Sybella. Enough time has passed. I am sick with worry.”
That made two of them. Colin had no time to argue. He descended the stairs to the dungeon, pausing only long enough to light the torch. He didn’t notice the chill in the air or the rat that gnawed on something in the corner. He was too concerned about his sister.
“Ella!” Mary called from the bottom step.
“Ye wait here.” He walked over and held up the light to the first, second, and third doors. Only empty shackles lined the walls, and the dungeon had no occupants. Colin shook his head, his misgivings increasing by the moment. “She isnae here.”
“Where could she possibly be?”
“I donna know. I have nay choice. ’Tis time to have speech with my father.
I am mad with worry.” He put out the torch as Mary lifted her skirts and ran hastily up the steps.
He was somewhat surprised that his cousin’s wife, who regularly preached about propriety, had remained by his side in the dungeon.
This was the first time he had seen her throw caution to the wind.
It was apparent that Mary was as worried about Sybella as he was.
They proceeded to the great hall as Colin mentally prepared himself to confront his father.
“Lady Mary…”
Colin turned to see the cook standing with her young daughter by her side. The girl’s arms were wrapped around her mother’s waist. When the woman spotted him, she flinched and took a step back before his obviously frantic expression.
She lowered her voice as Mary approached.
“My apologies, m’lady, but ’tis difficult to work on the meal for the morrow with all of that screaming.
And pardon me for saying so, m’lady, but having my daughter hear that over and over isnae good for young ears.
That ‘thalla gu taigh na galla.’” Go to hell.
Mary looked at Colin, and he raced to the one place that had haunted him as a child.
***
Sybella could no longer scream. Her voice had deserted her, the same as her husband. Darkness enveloped her and the muck swathed her. And when the smell no longer bothered her, that’s when she knew no one was coming for her.
She closed her eyes and wanted to succumb to blackness. She prayed the gods would take her now. She was no longer frightened and no longer angry, and her throat ached with defeat. Her mind was languid, without hope. Her head was bowed, her body slumped in despair.
The pain in her heart was a sick and fiery gnawing, but it could’ve been one of the rats that crawled on top of her. The last traces of resistance had banished and she had given up all hope. She was lost.
She wanted to die.
Her only regret was that Alexander would never know how much she loved him. When she finally spoke the truth, he hadn’t believed her. There were too many lies. She’d betrayed him. Her own husband. And for what? For a clan who didn’t give a damn about her and threw her away like a piece of garbage.
Being in the pit was a fate far worse than death. She sat in hell with no means of escape, wondering if her father would bury her or let her mind and body decay down here with the rats. If Sybella had a knife, she would put an end to this brutal torture.
She placed her head back on the slimy wall as something with legs crawled in her hair. And taking one last breath, she realized she didn’t care.
***
Some part in the back of Colin’s mind couldn’t fathom the cook’s words. His sister had been thrown into the pit. He was breathless with rage. His heart hammered against his chest and his breathing was labored.
He threw open the gate from the floor and lowered the ladder. “Ella…” He wasn’t sure what frightened him more: that Sybella didn’t charge up the ladder or that she didn’t respond.
“Sybella,” called Mary.
Colin didn’t hesitate. He climbed down the ladder and couldn’t see a damn thing. “Ella…Dear God, Ella, please answer me. Come to me, Sister, and escape this madness.” He lowered his hand and then realized she probably couldn’t even see it.
“Did ye find her?” asked Mary from above.
“Nay. I cannae see and she doesnae respond. Ella, are ye here?”
He stepped off the ladder and almost slid in place.
He reached out in front of him, but it was so dark.
He shuffled his feet and almost stumbled over what he thought felt like a leg.
How he prayed it was Sybella’s. He knelt down and found an arm.
“’Tis all right, Ella. I am going to get ye out of here. ”
He gently lifted her to her feet and she was limp in his arms. “Mary, I have her. Steady the ladder.” He bent down and hefted Sybella over his shoulder and then turned, fumbling for the ladder.
“Hold on, Sister. ’Tis all right.” Colin climbed out from the depths of hell, and when he reached the top, Mary gasped.
“Oh, Sybella.”