Chapter Sixteen #2
After a moment, he rose to his feet, taking Elise’s hand and pulling her up after him. He couldn’t get the images Elise had shown him out of his mind. They burned on the back of his eyes.
Elise said not a word but waited patiently, allowing him time to process everything he’d seen. But her hand kept a tight grip on his, telling him without words that they were in this together, come what may.
“We canna retake the keep,” he said at last, voice low and gritty. “My best warriors—the ones who’ve fought beside me since I could lift a sword—they’re either dead or chained in my own cells. Without them…I would only be leading my people to their doom.”
“And Phillip knew exactly who to target,” Elise murmured. “He knew who would be the biggest threat and took steps to eliminate them.”
“He did,” Jamie said bitterly. “He had years to study us. Years while I—” His jaw clenched. “While I trusted him.”
“You weren’t the only one,” Elise said quietly. “We all trusted him.”
That didn’t ease Jamie’s guilt. He was chieftain. He should have been wiser, seen more clearly. How many people had lost their lives because he was blinded by poor judgment?
“Without control of Dun Arach, Islay is lost,” he said, staring out over the dripping, windswept coastline. The sea surged against the rocks, wild and fierce—just like the people who lived on these scattered islands. “But I am not just chieftain of Islay. I am Lord of the Isles.”
“And that means?” Elise asked.
“It means that if King James thinks he’s beaten us by taking Islay, then he’s wrong. If he thinks I’ll come crawling like a whipped dog and submit to his overlordship, then he is a fool.”
He felt something stirring inside him. Too long had he tried to walk the tightrope, too long had he tried to keep the noose from the necks of the Isles. It hadn’t worked. Perhaps Albie had been right all along. Perhaps he had forgotten the strength of his people. Well, now it was time to remember.
“Because we are many. Families, clans, sea warriors, fishermen, traders—we are a kingdom spread upon the waves, bound by blood and tide. King James has declared war on us, and we must answer in kind.” He met Elise’s bright gaze. “The Kingdom of the Isles is going to war.”
A gust of wind curled around them, lifting Elise’s hair. She let out a slow breath. “Then where do we go?”
“Barra,” he answered immediately. “From there we’ll send out the call to muster. Then we’ll teach these bastards to fear us.”
“Barra,” Elise breathed. “Where my sister is.” Despite everything, excitement threaded her voice. “And I cannot wait to see her face when I show up! Rose is never going to believe this!”
Jamie stepped forward, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her thoroughly. When he broke away, she was a little breathless.
“What was that for?”
“To tell ye how much I love ye. Have I mentioned that?”
She tapped her chin. “Hmm. I’m not sure you have. Maybe you should tell me again.”
Jamie grinned, caught her around the waist, and yanked her against him.
His lips descended on hers, and Elise went up on tiptoes to meet him, her arms going around his neck.
The world disappeared and for an endless instant there was only the woman in his arms and the kiss that sent searing desire spiraling right down to his groin.
If he had his way, they would return to the cottage and he would spend the rest of the day showing Elise just how much he wanted her.
The memory of her moaning beneath him was almost enough to send him over the edge.
But he could not. A different urgency warred within him. He stepped back.
“Let’s get going.”
They fetched Tempest from the tumble-down hut in which Jamie had stabled him. The old stallion looked none too pleased at his accommodations and frisked and pranced as he came out into the early morning light.
“Sorry, boy,” Jamie murmured, patting his neck. “Not the standards ye are used to, I know.”
He quickly saddled him and held him steady while Elise climbed awkwardly into the seat. He swung up behind her, the leather creaking as he settled his weight. Reaching around her, he took the reins in one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist, holding her close.
Lord, it felt good. The press of her back against his chest, the feel of her hair tickling her chin. Clucking to the horse, he sent him into a canter, hooves splashing through puddles and pounding across the wet peat.
The rain held off, but the wind this far south was incessant, howling around them like an angry spirit and lashing the waves against the base of the cliffs in a furious white froth.
After several hours of riding steadily north, keeping to animal trails and little-used paths, the cliffs dipped, and the coastline widened into a narrow cove.
Through the spray, Jamie made out remains of cottages—roofless stone shells slumped against the wind, half-swallowed by gorse.
“What is this place?” Elise asked quietly, looking around.
“It’s called Cnaimh Bay. It used to be a thriving settlement. Fishermen and their families.”
“What happened to it?”
“The winter storms.” Jamie swung down from the horse, then held up his hands to help Elise down. “Every year, without fail, the sea took someone. A boat smashed. A house swept away. Someone caught by a rogue wave. My father watched the tally grow too long.”
He stepped forward, boots squelching through wet gravel as he approached a humped tarpaulin held down with rocks.
“So he ordered the village moved inland,” he continued. “People grumbled—Isles folk always do—but he saved dozens of lives in the years after.”
He gripped the edge of the tarpaulin and tugged. Water poured off it in thick sheets. Beneath lay a small sailing boat, narrow and sturdy, the wood weathered but sound.
Elise raised an eyebrow. “You hid this here?”
“Not hid.” Jamie flashed a grim smile. “Stored. Every lord of Islay keeps escape routes and secret shelters. My father taught me that. ‘Never let yer enemies know the only road ye’ll take,’ he used to tell me.
” He ran a hand along the boat’s worn hull with something like pride.
“She’s called Stormrunner. She might look like some ungainly old tub, but she’ll see us safely to where we need to go. ”
Elise didn’t look convinced. “I’ll have to take your word for that.”
“Oh, ye of little faith. Ye’ll see.” Straightening, he walked over to Tempest and took off his bridle and saddle, storing them beneath the tarpaulin.
“Time to go home, lad,” he murmured, stroking the horse’s neck. “A nice warm stable is waiting for ye.”
The horse nickered, stamping anxiously.
“Will he be all right?” Elise asked.
“He’ll be fine. He knows the way home. Go on, lad.”
He slapped the animal firmly on the hindquarters, and the horse bolted, disappearing over a hillock.
Elise tucked a stray strand of hair out of her face and studied the sea. The waves were capped with white, and the wind was lashing furiously.
“How long will it take to get to Barra?”
“It’s not a short journey. Maybe two days, but we’ll camp on one of the islets at night.”
“Camping,” Elise muttered. “Awesome.”
Jamie propped his shoulder against the gunwale of the Stormrunner and heaved. Sand and gravel sucked at his boots, but he kept straining, gritting his teeth and pushing with all his might until the boat slid down into the water. Freezing water and foam swirled around his ankles.
He grabbed the boat’s side, steadying the craft against the pull of the tide, holding it steady for Elise. With a look of extreme distaste, Elise waded into the water, gasping at the cold.
“Bloody hell,” she muttered. “And I’ve only just dried this dress.”
“Careful,” he warned, reaching out a hand.
She took it, getting one leg over the side of the boat and then clambering inside in a very undignified fashion, taking a seat in the stern. She clung to the side so hard her knuckles turned white.
Jamie vaulted in after her and pushed off. The small vessel rocked hard as it caught the first swell.
“Hold on,” he murmured, adjusting the sail and turning the bow towards the open sea. He guided the boat beyond the surf, into deeper water, and the wind immediately wrapped around them, filling the sail and sending the vessel skimming along the waves like a stone on a frozen pond.
Ahead, the horizon was a smear of dark cloud and rolling sea. To anyone not born of the ocean, it might look intimidating. But to Jamie, it spoke of freedom. Out there, the future waited.
He set his face into the wind.