Chapter 2 #2
Cyra pressed Espy’s hand to her chest. “You do have a place. It is here with me. It is your home.”
They both heard the noise at the same time… the pounding of several hooves growing ever closer.
Espy’s hand tightened around her grandmother’s.
“Lord Craven will not take you from me again,” Cyra said and eased her granddaughter’s hand beneath the blanket. “You stay here and worry not.” Espy went to speak, but Cyra placed her fingers gently to her lips, stopping her. “Not a word and stay where you are.”
Cyra left her granddaughter’s side and grabbing her worn wool shawl from the back of the chair, she went to the door, squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, then opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind her.
The sight that met her had her heart thumping madly against her chest and fear rushing through her, quivering her limbs until she thought for sure her legs would crumble from under her.
Lord Craven could put fear in the devil himself.
He had always been a large man, though he seemed to have grown larger since his wife had died, his muscles straining against the black shirt beneath his plaid.
But then it was whispered that he worked his warriors senseless on the practice field each day and that he could often be found chopping down trees in the woods and hoisting the felled tree on his shoulder and carrying it without help.
Cyra believed some of what she had heard was possibly true while others could only be mere tales.
Seeing Lord Craven now, she wondered if perhaps it was more truth than tale.
“Is your granddaughter here, Cyra?” Craven demanded.
Cyra kept her courage strong, though it was not easy in the fierce warrior’s presence.
While he had the finest features she had ever seen on a man, there was a fiery anger in his dark eyes that made one want to step back and keep a distance from him.
He wore his dark hair shorter than most men, it faintly brushing the tops of his shoulders, and pulled back tightly and secured with a pewter clasp at the nape of his neck, that everyone knew had been a gift from Aubrey.
“Answer me!”
Cyra jumped at his snarling bark and her fear grew. He had six warriors with him. His intentions were obvious and Cyra worried that she would not be able to stop him from taking Espy from her.
“Espy is here, and she is ill and needs tending,” Cyra said, keeping her voice steady and clear, fighting down the tremble that threatened to break free.
“Tending is not necessary for the punishment she faces for returning here when I ordered her to stay off my land,” Craven said and dismounted swiftly.
Instinctively, Cyra took a step back. She had forgotten how tall he was and with the added muscles, he appeared even more intimidating than usual.
“Did you think to keep her presence from me? Do you think I am ignorant of what goes on around me? I was alerted to her arrival as soon as she appeared on my land. Turn her over to me now or suffer the consequences,” Craven commanded, his last few words a near roar.
Cyra knew she was sealing her own fate as she shook her head and said, “I cannot do that, my lord.”
“Your granddaughter killed my wife and child. She deserves to suffer and suffer endlessly before she meets her death.” Craven took a quick step toward Cyra. “And I will see that she does.”
Cyra stood firm, fear quivering her limbs, but the need to protect her granddaughter kept her strong. “Espy did all she could to save your wife and child. It was not her fault they died.”
“The physician said otherwise, and I will not stand here and argue with you. Get your granddaughter out here—NOW!”
Cyra gave a slight turn of her head as his warm breath struck her face, his words having been delivered with such force. She did the only thing she could think of… she pleaded for her granddaughter to be spared.
“Please, Lord Craven, have mercy on an old woman. Espy is all the family I have left. Please, I beg you, do not take her from me.”
“Aubrey and our unborn bairn were all the family I had, and your granddaughter took them from me. I will spare her not an ounce of mercy for what she took from me.” Craven turned and signaled to his warriors and the six men dismounted and stepped forward.
He raised his voice again. “I will not tell you again to bring her out here to me.”
The door suddenly opened. “I am here.”
Cyra turned to see Espy leaning heavily on the door and went to take a step toward her.
“No, Seanmhair, this is my fate to face,” she said softly.
Cyra reached for her arm when Espy stumbled slightly as she took a weak step forward.
Tears rushed to fill Cyra’s eyes. She never felt so helpless in her life.
Instinct had her stepping forward and wrapping her granddaughter in her arms. They would have to pry Espy away from her. She would not let go.
“Let her go, Cyra, or I will rip her from your arms and care not what happens to you,” Craven ordered.
Espy eased away from her grandmother, though not before pressing her cheek to hers and whispering, “I love you, Seanmhair.”
Tears slipped down Cyra’s cheeks as she watched her granddaughter approach Lord Craven.
Espy struggled to take each step and when she stopped in front of Craven, his face blurred, her legs lost what little strength was left in them, and only one word passed her lips before her head fell on his shoulder and her body collapsed against him.
“Help.”
Find out more about…
Highland Warriors Trilogy