Chapter 6 #2
He muttered a Gaelic curse. He didn't still love her. Couldn't. No way in hell.
Any reason to care had blown out the window. She had cast him aside like rubbish.
Had she ever loved him, as she'd claimed? Nay, she couldn't have. She'd used him until someone wealthier came along.
"Brodie," Margaret sing-songed from the pallet. "Do you wish to lie down and rest, darling?"
"Nay!" He was removing her as soon as possible.
***
"FASTER! ROW!" RICHARD MacGilmont, the Earl of Talnaroch shouted at his men on the galley.
The wind was already shoving them toward the shore with great haste.
Damn the selkies and Brodie MacCain! He would destroy them!
They had capsized one of his galleys and damaged it, probably killed several of his garrison, and lost his valuable cargo.
He had to get the remaining selkie wenches to Dunrhyne as soon as possible.
When they reached the shore just below the castle, the men leapt off and dragged the galley onto the sand.
"Carry them to the dungeon!" he ordered the men. He could barely see the bound females in the shifting moonlight, most of them naked, squirming and screaming. No other castles existed for miles, so no one would hear them. He grinned, his lusts stirring.
He might have to sample the merchandise before the auction.
"Do not harm them in any way." Talnaroch ordered. He didn't want any gashes or bruises on his property.
Each man carried one selkie across his shoulder, and they climbed the pathway up the cliff.
They had only ended up with eight this time.
He would have to gather a larger force of men, put his new galleys into action, and snatch even more females next time.
He had to figure out a way to stop the damned males from overturning his galleys.
A brilliant idea occurred to him. He would arm his soldiers with long pikes, and they could stab the selkies in the water.
Once all the females were unloaded, he sent several men back out to the capsized galley to retrieve any survivors. He needed all the soldiers he could get.
After he locked the wenches in a dungeon cell, Talnaroch gave the key to the head of his guards. He trusted Alred more than the rest. Since he was older, lust did not rule him as it did the younger men.
Going inside the keep, Talnaroch retrieved the bedchamber key from Vesey, where he slept on a pallet in the great hall.
After lighting a candle, Talnaroch rushed upstairs to visit Elsea.
She was likely asleep, but he was feeling randy after that raid.
If she was eager to marry him, as she'd said, then she would crave him.
Mayhap bedding her this time would be much improved.
He shoved the key into the lock and tried to turn it. Since it wouldn't budge, he turned the key in the other direction. The lock clicked, and then he turned the knob. Locked.
"What?" He twisted the key the other way, unlocking it and shoved the door open.
The door had been unlocked. Vesey was supposed to have locked this. Holding the candle aloft, he stepped into the room.
"Lady Elsea?"
The fire in the hearth had gone out, and the room was cold. The tray of food sat on the table, untouched. A woolen blanket lay on the floor.
He hurried into the corridor and down the stairs. "Vesey!" he yelled.
In the great hall, the cook groggily sat up from his bedroll. "M'laird?"
"Where the hell is the lady?" he demanded.
Vesey scrambled to his feet. "Uh... in the chamber?"
"Nay! She's gone. The door was unlocked."
Vesey's eyes rounded. "I locked the door. I swear it, m'laird."
"Did you give her a key?"
"Of course not," he said, his voice panicked and high-pitched.
"Search the castle for her! If she is harmed, I'm holding you responsible."
"Mayhap she is in the garderobe."
"You best hope she is! Search, man, without delay."
"Aye." Vesey hastened up the stairs.
Outside, Talnaroch yelled to his men. "Five of you, come inside and look for the lady. She's vanished!"
Several scurried to do his bidding, no doubt hoping for a bonus.
"You three." He pointed at the grooms and guards he'd left here last night. "Did you see the lady outside last night?"
"Nay. But we found her horse wandering about, grazing about a half mile away."
"Do you have it?"
"Aye. We put the mare with the rest of the horses."
"So, she did nay leave on it. Where the hell did she go?" Confused, he glanced around in the first hint of dawn light. "Mayhap they will find her hiding inside the castle." He hurried back inside. "Have you found her?" he yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
"Nay, m'laird. Not yet," Vesey called from an upper floor.
"Have you searched every nook and cranny? She could be hiding. Did you check the ruined parts?"
"Three are now," a guard responded.
Could there be hidden passages he didn't know about? He'd won this place, gambling, around three years ago. He hadn't spent much time here.
"Is there a laird's lug?" Talnaroch asked.
"I did nay see one," a guard said.
"Look again, damn you!" Talnaroch combed through the castle himself, looking for hidden or nondescript doorways he might not have noticed before. Had some knave kidnapped her?
Not discovering Elsea or any hidden passages, Talnaroch emerged from the exit. "Search the grounds for any sign of the lady!" he ordered the men outside. "Find her or you'll nay receive any pay from me!"
An hour later, they still had not located Elsea, nor a clue to her whereabouts. How could she have vanished?
"Cook some fish for the captives," he ordered Vesey.
"And give them clean water." He didn't want them sick or dying before he could sell them.
He turned to his garrison, who stood before him, their numbers diminished.
Some had died in battle on the island, but, hopefully, his men would rescue several from the capsized galley.
He muttered a curse, determined to have his revenge against MacCain and the beasts he led.
He would have to return to Dalthort for more men.
"I'm leaving half of you here to guard the goods in the dungeon," Talnaroch said, his voice rough from all the yelling. "If any of them escape, I'll take it out of your hide! And I'll nay pay you. Half of you will ride with me to Kincreag. We'll see if the lady walked back home. Bring her horse."
He would find the lass and teach her a valuable lesson—to never oppose him again.
***
UNBEARABLE PAIN SHOT through Elsea's head. Voices echoed, one female and one male. What on earth had happened to her?
Had the woman said Brodie? Nay, Elsea must be dreaming again.
Why did her head pound with such excruciating pain? She shivered within her cold, wet clothes.
She had been on a birlinn... though the memory was fuzzy.
The warmth of a fire heated her side. She squinted, opening her eyes a crack. Why was she lying on the ground by a fire?
"Brodie?" a woman said in a cajoling tone from some distance. "Come now, my love. You need some rest. Did the swim in the ocean tire you out?"
"Leave me be, woman." The growl came from much closer, and 'twas indeed Brodie's voice, rough, deep, and commanding. She froze. Why on earth was she with him?
The last time she'd seen him, he'd threatened to strangle her.
Would he? Was she in danger now? How did she come to be with Brodie and his latest conquest?
Her head aching, she struggled to conjure up her last memory.
She'd been on a birlinn at night. Someone had kicked her down, and she'd hit her head.
Male shouts echoed from a distance. Was that real or a figment of her imagination?
"What the devil? Who is out there?" Brodie mumbled a curse. Though Elsea had not heard his voice in a long time, she would never forget it. She had always loved his deep, rumbling voice, but now he sounded furious.
"Keep an eye on her," he said. "I'll be right back." His footsteps rushed away.
"Very well," came the female reply. Leather slippers crunching in the grit on the ground, the woman came closer. "I'll watch the wench for you." She chuckled and crouched close. "Hmph. Still breathing. 'Tis unfortunate."
Saints preserve me! What was the harlot up to? Through a narrow crack in her lids, Elsea observed her. The bitter, dark-haired woman rose, moved several feet away, and with both hands, picked up a sizable stone from the ground.
Gritting her teeth despite her terrible headache, Elsea readied herself.
Coming closer, the wench raised the makeshift weapon over Elsea's head and dropped it.
Elsea rolled aside, and the stone hit the ground.
"Are you mad?" Dizzy, Elsea shoved to her feet and backed away. With the sudden jarring movement, the excruciating agony in her head almost blinded her. Lightheaded, she caught against the rough stone wall.
"Bitch!" The woman's menacing dark brown eyes reflected the firelight. "You are to stay away from Brodie." She picked up the rock and advanced again.
"You are the bitch!" Elsea reached for the sheathed dirk at her waist but....
She glanced down. Her belt and most of her clothes were gone.
"Bollocks!" She only wore a smock. She reached for the sgian dubh in her left sleeve.
Gone. Her right sleeve? Aye, finally a weapon.
She withdrew it and wielded it in her right hand. "Stay away from me!"
"Humph. Do you think I'm afraid of that toothpick?" The woman whispered nonsensical words, and the knife flew from Elsea's hand.
She gasped. What kind of sorcery was this? Spying a jagged rock on the ground nearby, she snatched it up. "Who are you?" she demanded.
"That matters not. All that matters is that I ken who you are."
"How?" Had she met this woman before? She appeared to be about Elsea's own age. "And why are you trying to kill me?"
The woman emitted an unnerving laugh. The ring of it was somewhat familiar.
"Brodie might yet carry a wee torch for you, jezebel, but I will snuff it out straightaway." The hag lobbed the stone toward Elsea's head.
She leapt out of the way, then cast her own rock.