Chapter Seventeen
“I say we go now,” Daimh demanded, then resumed the pacing he seemed unable to control. The days of inaction, worry and fear for Harper had been the darkest of his life.
Just then Errol came running into the great room with a parchment held out in front of him. “This just arrived by messenger,” he panted, having run from the gate.
Ian grabbed the missive and opened it as a piece of short blonde hair fell to the stone floor.
“Is that Harper’s hair?” Daimh didn’t want it to be true.
Quickly reading the message, Ian raised his head. “It is from the Gordons. They have her and sent the hair as proof.”
Daimh scooped up the hair and rubbed it between his fingers and nodded. “Aye, it is hers.” His voice caught and he swallowed hard, sick with the thought of her being taken captive. “What else does it say?”
“They demand an exchange. They ask that we petition the Forbes to release Adam Gordon in trade for the lady. But they assure us that Harper is still alive.”
He had to think clearly and without the emotion that was choking him. He shook his head. “Nay. I do not trust them. I say we gather our forces and get Lady Harper back. And may the devil take those who have done her harm.”
Ian stepped up behind him and put a calming hand on his shoulder. “We will send word to the Forbes to join us. Ye need nae worry. They hate the Gordons and will nae doubt be eager to help. And the greater our show of force, the more likely the Gordons are to give up.” Ian turned to the men. “Prepare to ride.”
Rory, one of the grooms, stepped forward. “I wish to accompany you, Laird.”
“Thank ye, lad, but ye are a groom, not a fighter.”
“I hae been practicing with a claymore. Errol can attest to it.”
Ian looked over to his brother-in-law, who nodded.
“I ken ye know I betrayed the Lady Skye because I was lied to by a wicked woman, and yet yer lady saved me life when I had the plague. ’Tis the least I can do to help redeem meself and save her friend.”
Ian nodded his approval and the boy scurried away while Ian opened his arms to bid goodbye to Skye.
“I’m going with ye,” Skye said.
“Nay, my love. Ye have our child to think of. And if I must worry about yer safety, I will nae be able to concentrate on the task at hand.”
“Bring her back,” she said, tears tracing yet another trail down her cheeks.
“I will. Ye have me word.”
Following directly behind Ian, Daimh pulsed with fury and bloodlust. “I will kill them all,” he vowed.
***
Blinking awake, Harper was stiff and sore, but not quite as cold. Her head throbbed, no doubt from being drugged. As she slowly sat up in effort not to make the pain worse, she realized the bindings around her hands and feet were gone. And a filthy plaid blanket had been draped over her. Small blessings. She supposed she was not to die just yet.
Soft footfalls in the corridor alerted her that Fenella was returning. The girl appeared outside the bars, this time with a hunk of bread and another bowl of water. Without a word, she opened the door, the hinges groaning, and slipped into the cell.
Harper glared at her with narrowed eyes. “I want no more of your tainted water,” she spat at the girl.
Fenella dropped her gaze. “I had nae choice. But I promise this water is clean.”
Raising her eyebrows in doubt, Harper watched as Fenella took a sip of the water, then held out the bowl. Greedily, Harper accepted it and swallowed gulps of the cold liquid. The girl then offered the bread, which Harper eyed with suspicion.
“It, too, is safe,” Fenella assured her.
Harper took the bread and bit into it. It was stale and tasteless, but it was food. “Then why was I poisoned?” she asked between bites.
“They wanted to cut off yer hair to send with their demands. I told them ye would not fight, but the men have their own ways. And when they left, I cut yer bindings. There was no need for them.”
Harper instinctively touched her hair and felt the missing shank on the side. “Thank you for releasing me from the bindings.”
“I am hoping ye will nae hurt me now that ye are unbound.”
“No, I won’t. I promise.”
“But when the men return, ye must use the ropes to look as if ye are still tied. Otherwise, I will suffer the punishment.” She hesitated. “’Tis not that I hae loyalty to ye. I just hae none to them.”
“Again, I promise. I am grateful for your kindness.”
“I do nae envy ye. The clan is not forgiving and knowing ye are Forbes raises their ire.”
“And what of the woman who arranged all this and saw to my being here?”
“She is gone. I ken she sensed they planned to do away with her, since she was nae longer any use to them, so she fled. They did nae give chase since she has nowhere to go.” The girl gave a chocked laugh. “She made a point to find her way here and tell them of ye, a hated Forbes, no doubt hoping for a reward. But, men that they be, they played her for a fool.” Fenella shrugged. “She’ll nae doubt die before she makes it back to yer clan.” She shrugged again.
“You do not pity her?” Harper asked.
“She betrayed another out of spite. It isnae right what she did to ye. I suppose I am doing the same. Betraying the clan, I mean. But ye are nae guilty of anything except being born a Forbes.”
So this woman had a sense of honor. That was always a plus.
Harper thought before to ask why she was enslaved, but Fenella had just answered the question. She was a pawn in a clan game and knowing more would not help her now. No, now she needed to befriend this girl-woman and find out what she could about a possible escape.
Knowing Daimh and Skye would probably move heaven and earth to find her did not mean they would reach her in time. Her captors may grow tired or angrier and just execute her because they could. She could not wait for anyone to rescue her. She had to try to find her way out of this herself.
“Who are you?” Harper asked.
The girl cocked her head, as if it was a question she had never before pondered.
“I suppose I am the wife of Alex Gordon.”
Harper didn’t bother to try and explain the girl was a person in her own right. “But you are so young.”
The girl straightened her spine. “I am sixteen summers.”
“And the wounds? The bruises?”
“I deserved them all. I am an imperfect wife.” Tears coursed down her cheeks and Harper longed to comfort the girl, but any such move might be interpreted negatively.
“I do not believe it. I think you are very kindhearted.”
“That is not a good thing,” Fenella whimpered. “I am weak and stupid.”
“No. You are not. You mustn’t believe that. And you do not deserve to be hurt.” Harper shook her head. “How long?”
“Hae I been marrit? Two years, three months, eight days.”
Poor child. Married off so young and more than two years in living hell.
The girl spun on her heels and nearly ran out the door, locking it behind her. She sniffed once, lifted her chin, and was gone.
***
It should have taken three days to ride to the Forbes castle, but Ian and Daimh and the others totaling one hundred made it in two and a half. Making certain their horses were cared for, they were ushered into the main hall where they were received by Lord Forbes and offered food and drink, which the men gratefully accepted.
“Your message said the bastard Gordon hae taken one of mine?” Lord Forbes asked, his jaw tight.
“Aye,” Ian answered. “The lass grew up in France with me wife and is to wed me man Daimh.”
Daimh stepped forward, nostrils flaring. “They wish to trade for your captive Adam Gordon.”
“I see. Well, then the Gordons hae brought more bloodshed on themselves. They do not learn that they cannot win, and this will only increase the ire of the Queen as well. Their holdings are not far, although what is theirs shall soon be mine, forfeit to me from Mary. They will rue the day they failed to accept their losses.”
“When can we ride?” Daimh tried to contain his impatience and was failing.
“At sunrise. I can spare two hundred to ride with ye and, along with yours, that should be enough to see to the release of the lass. And teach the Gordons yet another lesson.”
Ian nodded his thanks.
“In the meantime, rest, eat and drink. Have no fear, the Gordons will regret their impunity.”
***
Harper heard the celebrations of the certain return of Adam Gordon, the men above convinced she was the bargaining chip they required. But Harper, ever the realist, was certain this was too easy. It didn’t make sense that a simple prisoner exchange was all that was happening.
For one thing, she was a female and in this day and age, women had little value. The Gordons had to be using her as a more than just a token. Their game was revenge for Corrichie. They were hoping to lure the MacKenzies and the Forbes into a trap. But the nature of that trap was impossible to guess. Logic dictated something very bad was planned, but she had no idea what that could be.
Her faith had to rest in Ian’s battle acumen. He was no fool, nor was Daimh. But she worried Daimh might let his heart rule over his common sense and put himself in harm’s way. If anything were to happen to him—she could not even begin to entertain that thought.
Her only hope to aid them was to glean information from Fenella and try to find a way to let the clan know what the trap was to be. Knowing there was an ambush would only help so far. If she could let them know the details, that would definitely be helpful. Ah, but she was a fool. She was stuck in this pit with no means of escape. Frustration preyed upon her. She desperately wanted to do something.
Suddenly, she remembered the knife in her garter. How could she have forgotten? Must have been the dehydration and exhaustion. She ran her hand along the leather sheaf and found the weapon inside reassuring. She was not totally defenseless. But a knife against more than one or two men would prove ineffectual. Still, it was comforting to know it was there.
A tapping of footsteps had her moving to the bars. Fenella was sneaking down the corridor, looking behind her as if to assure herself she was alone. When she reached the cell, she pressed her index finger to her lips to indicate Harper should be quiet.
Unlocking the door and opening it very slowly so it would not make noise, she slipped inside and closed the entry behind her. Gently, she pushed Harper to the back of the space. It was then, as a ray of light from one of the torches on the wall washed across Fenella’s face, that Harper saw her cheek was swollen and bloody.
“Me husband is angry with me.”
Harper shook her head. “Is it because of me?” She sincerely hoped not. This poor child had suffered so much already, Harper didn’t want to be responsible for more.
“Nay. I hae not given him an heir and me courses hae returned. He said I have no worth, and when he is no longer preoccupied with ye, he will set me aside.”
“Is that a bad thing? To be set aside from him? He beats you.”
“But where will I go? I have nowhere to go.” Sobs racked her frail body.
“I think if you ate more, you might have a better chance at having a child—a bairn.”
Fenella tilted her head in obvious confusion. “That makes nae sense.”
“If a woman does not have enough meat on her bones, she cannot grow a child. It is true.”
“Then I am lost, for Alex says I eat too much as it is.”
“Lovely man,” Harper sneered. “But I have an idea.”
“Aye?”
“Help me escape and come with me. I am certain the MacKenzies will take you in and you will have a better life. Those men treat their wives with love and respect.”
“Ye jest with me.”
“No. My best friend is married to the laird, and he is very good to her.”
“Ye are not even from the Highlands. Yer speech is strange and ye are nae like the other wummen I know.”
“I was raised in France,” Harper answered, hoping this was enough of an explanation.
“I nae if it is even possible. There is a way out of here, but if we’re caught, it is certain death. I cannae help ye. I am too frightened.”
“I understand. But perhaps you could tell me the way out.”
Boots pounding down the steps and along the corridor silenced them. Fenella pushed Harper further back and, grabbing the ropes, threw them to her. Heart pounding, Harper pressed herself into the far wall and wrapped the bindings around her wrists and ankles.
“What do ye here?” the man demanded, holding a torch high. “Ye are but a worthless waste, so ye best have a good explanation.”
Cowering against the side wall, Fenella’s breath came in quick pants of fear. “Ye said I should check on her.”
The man glanced over at Harper, squinting in the meager light. Taking a step closer to her, he eyed Harper with interest.
“For a Forbes, ye are comely.”
Harper could read his thoughts and they sent a shiver up her spine.
“I may need to avail meself of yer charms before yer… release.” His smirk did not ease Harper’s fears. “That baggage…” he angled his head to Fenella, “…I have no need of her meager body. But ye…”
Leaning down and reaching out, he grabbed her left breast and squeezed. Harper’s bile rose and she wished she could vomit on him, but she had eaten too little in the last days. She might have swung at him, but she promised Fenella she would fake being still bound.
“Aye, there is a handful,” he chortled. Before he could do anything else, a man’s voice echoed down the corridor. “Alex, Clan Seton’s men are arriving.”
Alex huffed a regret, then spun on his heel to face Fenella. “Bring a bucket and bathe her. She smells like a pig’s arse.” Turning back to Harper, he leered at her. “Reinforcements to see our plan succeeds. Maybe I shall give ye to Adam as a welcome home present once I have done with ye.” He faced Fenella again. “Get her washed. And then get to the kitchens and see to the food and drink for our guests.” And he was gone.
Harper breathed a sigh of relief. She peered over at Fenella, who was also breathing easier. It was only a temporary reprieve from what Alex had planned for Harper’s future, but it was something.
***
Following her husband’s instruction lest he become violent toward her again, Fenella left and returned with a bucket of water and some cloths for washing.
“It cannae hurt to wash off some of the filth of this place.” Fenella said. Though she offered a tiny smile, her drooping shoulders implied Harper’s outcome was grim.
There were no worries for them about her rescue now. The Gordon clan was being joined by another and they were feeling strong.
“Clan Seton’s men?” Harper asked as she wiped a wet rag over her face.
“Aye. From what I heard, Seton will send enough men to protect the castle and ensure they gain the release of Adam. Then, they intend to fight, since Clan MacKenzie is now their sworn enemy. They are sure that Clan MacKenzie cannot gain reinforcements so quickly and Alex is counting on their delay.”
“Why would Clan Seton offer aid?” Harper asked.
“They have long since pledged their allegiance to Clan Gordon. It is the way of things. Clans join together and stay loyal to one another until it changes.” Fenella lifted her hands in a shrug, the whole alliance thing an obvious mystery.
“Then my only hope is escape.”
“Then ye have no hope at all. Ye are a Forbes, sworn enemy to both Gordons and Setons.”
“But if we work together…” Harper knew it was futile, but she had no other choice than to try to gain this girl’s cooperation, which may or may not be of use.
“Lady, I am only a woman. I hae no power. I would aid you if I could, but I, too, am helpless and a prisoner here. I am only here to bear my husband’s frustrations.”
“No. You mustn’t think like that. You are a kind girl. A girl with honor. And I believe you can be strong. If I can find a way away from this place, I give you my pledge that I will take you with me and find a better life.”
Fenella gave her a wan smile. “I wish I could believe that to be possible.”