Chapter Nineteen #3
I listened for sounds, of groans or calls for help. But there was nothing but our almost-silent footsteps.
We didn’t have far to travel. The tunnel soon opened up into a large, open chamber.
Along one side of the corridor was a row of prison cells, carved into the dirt and clad with thick iron bars.
We passed one, and another. Empty. And a third.
Could it be that Campbell had taken my husband somewhere else?
That he had tricked us into thinking that Kade would be kept here when, in fact, he’d hidden him somewhere else, somewhere we would never be able to find?
Or had he killed him already and buried him in an unmarked grave?
The thought caused me to choke back a sob. What had I done?
But my fears were, in part, allayed. There, in front of us, at the end of the oval room, lay a large, inclined slab. And a figure. A man, clad only in the shreds of his kilt.
Kade.
He lay so still. Too still.
It took me a moment to make out in the dim light that he had been laid on a bed of nails.
As we drew closer, I could see that his wrists and ankles were bloodied by the chains that bound him.
And he was being stretched, his arms pulled above his head, his legs pulled tight.
His bare chest was cut and bruised, covered with dirt and stripes of dried blood.
Was he alive?
At that moment his head turned. His eyes were glazed and dull.
He squinted against the small blaze and flinched at the sight of us.
Hatred radiated from his beaten body and shone from his narrowed eyes, returning some life to him, at least. I realized he couldn’t see who we were.
He might have thought it was Campbell and his men, returning to beat him again, to tighten his bindings another notch.
“Release him,” I said to Caleb. “Unlock the chains.”
Caleb was already there, and Jamie moved with him, holding the light near Kade’s ankles so Caleb could see.
I went to Kade, standing close to him, looking into his eyes.
He recognized me, I could see that, but there was no joy in him at the realization.
Behind the haze of his pain and delirium, the hatred lingered, a thread of fear, a brief glimmer of hope and, most of all, fury.
I wanted to touch him, to somehow relieve him, but I hesitated.
I didn’t want to hurt him, or anger him further, and the look in his eyes unnerved me.
His gaze swerved to Caleb and Jamie, then back to me. He was clearly unsure of our agenda, of our loyalty, and I could read the doubts as they flickered across his face. Have they been sent by Campbell? Or are they here of their own accord?
“’Tis me, husband,” I said. “We’ve come to free you. You’re safe now. Your brother’s army is on its way.”
I was glad I had thought to tell him this, because it was the mention of his brother and his clan that speared through his fugue. His eyes became clearer and focused, just as Caleb unbound the last of his chains.
In one fluid, unexpectedly quick movement, Kade jumped off his torturous pyre and stood before us.
He looked big, spooked, battered, yet entirely lethal.
And it was a good thing, too, I thought.
Because at that very moment, a second torch illuminated the night, emerging from the far tunnel that must have led to the entrance. A lone soldier, instantly recognizable.
In his other hand, Campbell held his sword.
* * *
IN AN INSTINCTUAL movement—and I could identify a small surge of pride at my newfound tendencies—I drew Kade’s enormous sword from its scabbard, still slung across my shoulder, with some difficulty. I could barely lift it. Somehow I found the strength. I held it up. “Kade,” I said.
If there was doubt in him, and if he questioned my motives in that moment, he didn’t show it.
He turned instantly, and seeing his salvation on offer, he walked over and grabbed it from my hands.
His body, though beaten and bloodied, had lost none of its animal grace; he moved with an arrogant, fluent confidence that I could only hope and pray would see him through.
Kade was at a disadvantage, aye, since his strength had been depleted by agony and injury.
But he had Jamie, who, although young and inexperienced, was at least armed.
I handed Caleb the second of Kade’s weapons I carried: the large bone-handled knife.
Caleb contemplated me with a brief look of incredulity, but he took the knife.
It looked awkward in his hands; he was as untrained in the art of warfare as I was, but something was better than nothing.
And I had my small knife. Small, but still capable of killing a man: this I knew to be true.
In fact, it was still carrying the blood of proof.
But my silent celebrations at our odds were decidedly short-lived. Hugh appeared in the arched doorway, menacing, armed and very much awake.
The battle was on.
Campbell struck at Kade first, a mighty blow that carried all the weight of his intention.
And Kade answered the blow as his equal.
My husband, bloodied or not, came to life with a sword in his hands, as though energized and healed by its familiar solidity, as though he absorbed strength from its steel.
They circled each other, and I backed away, taking refuge behind the bed of nails, crawling under it, readying myself to lash out at Campbell’s feet and legs if the opportunity arose.
Hugh went for Jamie, knocking his sword from his hands in a single swipe.
Hugh was a seasoned warrior and outweighed Jamie by a considerable amount.
But Jamie retrieved his sword and answered his charge, holding his own, but barely.
Caleb could do little to help his brother.
He held up the knife and clung to the periphery, desperately out of his depths.
But he was here, and at the ready, and offering whatever assistance he could, and I was glad of it.
Campbell and Kade’s fight was at fever pitch, blow after blow, the echoing clang of metal against metal filling the room like brash, violent music. Kade was tiring, I could see; the torture and blood loss had taken their toll. I was desperate to intervene, and crept closer.
A howl punctuated the darkness. Jamie was hit. I couldn’t see where. His leg, I thought. There was blood, and lots of it. And they were wrestling now, with Hugh pinning Jamie down. Caleb leaped on to him, stabbing with his knife. And Jamie’s sword found purchase from below. Hugh growled in pain.
But my attention shifted. It was then that Kade stumbled. Just slightly, but it was a sign. Campbell was working his advantage. Their swords were blurred with the heat of their fight. And Campbell’s back was to me. His feet moved closer to where I was crouched under the pyre.
I struck, slicing through the flesh of his calf.
Campbell howled, not expecting my attack.
He lost concentration for a single moment, looking behind him.
And it was all the opportunity Kade needed.
It was the kind of invitation he trained each and every day of his life to exploit.
Kade’s sword struck at Campbell’s throat, above the chainmail’s edge, in a precise, fatal angle, sinking deep.
With a final, brittle choking sound, Campbell’s body fell to the floor.
Campbell, whose family had led two generations of war throughout the Highlands, was dead.
Jamie, Hugh and Caleb all lay on the floor. There was movement, but I couldn’t tell who it was; the torches, discarded nearby on the dirt floor of the dungeon, were now flickering and sparse.
Kade walked over to where they lay, surveying the damage.
Caleb stood, somewhat unsteadily. He stepped back from Kade, as though fearful that Kade might attack him next.
Jamie was groaning and writhing. His leg, I could now see, was badly injured.
Hugh’s bulky form lay still, a spreading puddle of black underneath him. Kade, as though to make sure of it, stepped forward and cut his throat.
Kade pulled Jamie to his feet, supporting him. He looked once at Caleb, then once, in a lingering, intense glare, at me. Then he walked to the front entrance of the cave, dragging Jamie along with him.
I thought to tell him, ’Tis not safe! What if the soldiers have wakened, as Hugh did? But I had a feeling my husband would neither listen to me nor be frightened by my warning. Either way, he was already gone. Caleb and I followed him.
Outside, the first hints of dawn were glowing along the horizon.
The sleeping soldiers lay where we had left them, showing no signs of life.
Kade took in the scene with alert contemplation.
Kade lowered Jamie to the ground, where he sat quietly, his face pale with pain and blood loss.
Kade found a discarded tunic on the ground and began shredding it into long strips.
He said to Caleb, “Help me tie their wrists,” which they then proceeded to do, and particularly securely.
One or two of the men stirred, but none woke.
When all of the sleeping soldiers’ hands had been tied, Kade said to Caleb, “Assist your brother to the manor and see that he is looked at by a healer. Rally Tristan, Eion and Colin. Have them imprison these men and do their utmost to secure any other Campbells on the premises. Are we understood?”
“Aye,” Caleb confirmed.
“I will join you momentarily,” Kade added. “But first, I have some urgent business to discuss with my wife.”
And with that, my husband picked me up and began to carry me down through the dense shrubbery and down toward the loch.