CHAPTER FIVE #3
Aidan glanced at her. “In the Highlands, politics an’ war are one an’ the same.”
“I’ll bet,” she said.
She saw that the tunnel within the gatehouse had two portcullises, both of which were raised.
It wasn’t unusual. An intruder getting past the first set of iron bars would be quickly trapped between it and the second gate once it was closed.
She looked up as they entered the tunnel and, sure enough, saw the murder holes above her head.
The intruder would be doused with burning liquid or burning arrows.
Oil wouldn’t be used, because it was too expensive.
There was no escaping the violent nature of this world, she thought in dismay. She looked down as they hurried toward the first raised portcullis. They were walking over a trapdoor. “What’s below?” she asked warily.
“A pallet of daggers,” he said, not breaking stride.
“Have you ever been besieged?” she asked thickly, every hair on her body raised. She was thinking about what happened to invaders when the trapdoors opened beneath their feet. Being caught up in the medieval world made it impossible to ignore how cruel and savage its people were.
“Aye, when Argyll burned Awe to the ground.”
Brie gasped. “Is that why you’re riding with MacDonald against Argyll?”
He smiled at her with relish. “Yer a clever lass, Brianna. I even helped Donald Dubh escape. He was Argyll’s prisoner,” he laughed.
Brie halted. “This is a blood feud! You don’t care who is Lord of the Isles, you just want to fight Argyll!”
He halted, facing her, his eyes hard and cold. “I like war.”
She trembled. “Why? Because it’s easier to fight than to grieve?”
He flushed and, eyes blazing, strode past her.
Brie ran after him, wishing she hadn’t said what she had. But her instincts had been right. A modern man would get past his grief by indulging in work, sports, an affair. Aidan was choosing war.
Somber, she followed him out of the gatehouse and into the shadows cast by the flanking towers, coming face-to-face with his army of Highlanders and knights.
Her heart stopped. It was one thing to look down on the sea of soldiers and beasts from the tower, with everyone somewhat out of focus; it was another to be so suddenly in their midst. Every instinct she had fired in alarm.
Every educated person knew the dangers of a crowd, and this barbaric mass of humanity was a maddened, war-hungry mob.
She had her defenses up, but with so many men present, it was impossible to block the soldiers out entirely.
Their savagery and bloodlust overwhelmed and sickened her now.
So much evil was present in the army of madmen, and that was the most frightening thing of all.
Brie turned away as a red-haired Highlander thrust his dagger into a knight’s leg, the knight instantly cleaving him with his spiked club. She didn’t want to see what would happen next.
Darker shadows fell over her. Trembling, Brie looked up. Four knights had ridden over to her, and evil surrounded her now. Their visors were up and they looked down at her, leering. Their eyes were dark and soulless and glittering madly.
These men were possessed.
Aidan suddenly appeared at her side, and then he stepped between her and the four knights. “Come closer an’ die.”
The knights whirled their mounts, spurring them away and back into the mob of men.
Her stomach roiled. She was not relieved. “How many of your men are demonic? How many are possessed?”
He instinctively clasped her elbow, steadying her. “More than half are possessed, or are lesser deamhanain,” he said calmly. “The rest just like murder an’ rape an’ being paid fer it.”
She clung to his hand in disbelief, looking into his brilliant blue eyes, sick to her stomach. “You do not let them rape,” she said furiously, refusing to believe it. “You do not let them murder the Innocent!”
His face hardened. “I have four thousand men. Ye think I can control every one? Ye think I even wish to do so? They need compensation fer their labors!” he snapped.
Brie shook her head, aghast. “Ever since you rescued me, I have refused to believe you are evil. You saved me. You have a conscience. I have seen it!”
“My men rape when it pleases them to do so,” he shouted at her. “I grow tired of ye lookin’ at me with so much damned faith!”
“I am not wrong about you,” she insisted.
He leaned close, his anger exploding. The wave of rage would have flung her backward, off her feet, if he hadn’t been gripping her. “I am evil. I gave up my soul long ago and I have no use for it now. I dinna want or care fer yer faith! Find someone else to save.”
“Then why did you save me?” she cried.
“I dinna ken why I saved ye in New York City,” he said harshly. “But now, I save ye only so ye can speak with my son.”
“And when I finish being useful to you, then what? Will you murder and rape me, too?”
His face hardened impossibly. “Ye tempt me, Brianna. I wouldn’t mind succumbing to my lust and usin’ yer pretty body.”
She gasped.
“So I suggest ye keep yer mouth closed an’ dinna interfere now—not with my plans, not with this war. If yer fortunate, if ye do as I wish, I’ll send ye back to yer time when I’m done with ye—intact,” he snarled.
Oh my God, she thought, her cheeks on fire. He had read her mind and knew she was the modern world’s only twenty-six-year-old virgin.
His eyes widened.
So did Brie’s. “Are you reading my mind?”
A slight pink flush seemed to mar his high cheeks. “Ye think so loudly.”
She turned away, mortified. He hadn’t known—she’d misunderstood his choice of words—but he knew the humiliating truth now. She wanted to vanish into the dirt. Better yet, she wanted to find herself in her loft in the present, realizing that this was an insane and not-very-pleasant dream.
His grasp on her seemed to tighten. Then he spoke with care. “I gave ye my word. I said I wouldna hurt ye. I meant it. Just keep yer distance from me.”
She pulled away from his hard hands. “I need a weapon,” she said tersely, not looking at him. Did he think her an absolute nerd? Did it matter? She was a nerd, and he was no prize. “I cannot manage without a means of defending myself.”