Forever Mine #7
Another bead of sweat travelled down Braden’s brow and into his hair. He didn’t especially like small spaces, and being confined below the cart’s floor left little room to manoeuvre.
Or to breathe.
Braden couldn’t even lift his arm to wipe the sweat that dripped into his eyes. He blinked rapidly to stop the stinging, but it did no good.
For all his discomfort, he wouldn’t complain if his plan worked. If Niall was stopped then a few hours of suffering would be well worth it.
He bit back a grunt as one of the cart’s wheel fell into a deep rut, jarring him. His mind needed to be on the upcoming battle, but all he could think about was Jean.
And their night together.
It had been … soul-stirring. Moving. Exciting. Glorious.
The dawn had come all too soon. It had taken everything Braden had to leave her behind. At least at the camp she would be safe from Niall and any danger.
“Not much longer,” Colin said to him as he leaned towards the cart floor.
Braden didn’t bother to answer. There had been little to no conversation since their departure from the camp. It was just as well though.
He inhaled deeply and focused his mind on his plan. Everything hinged on whether they got through the castle gates. From there, once Braden was out of the cart and inside the castle, Colin would send the signal for the other men.
Braden smiled, expectation and exhilaration taking hold of him. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword at his side. He itched to feel the familiar weight of the blade as it sliced through the air, as it embedded in Niall’s body.
He closed his eyes, his elaborate plan floating through his mind. His father would tell him he was overreaching, and he would be correct. His father had always been right.
But in this instance, Braden had no choice.
He’d been fighting Niall for two years. Two long, brutal years of innocent deaths and violence that never stopped.
Now he had Jean. She’d already been in Niall’s hands once. Braden knew she wouldn’t survive a second time. If somehow Braden failed and Niall discovered what Jean meant to him … Braden couldn’t even finish the thought.
The cart began to slow, and then stopped when someone shouted for them to halt.
Braden held his breath.
“State your business,” a loud voice demanded.
Braden paid no attention to Keith’s explanation as more guards came around the back of the cart and began to question Colin.
There was a grunt as one of the guards grabbed Colin’s wounded leg and tore at the bindings to ensure that Colin was indeed injured.
A few words later and Keith clucked to the horse.
Braden closed his eyes and sent up a prayer of thanks as they rolled beneath the large gatehouse and into the bailey of the castle.
He didn’t need to see to know there were two guards at each tower of the gatehouse and more patrolled the battlements atop the castle wall.
He didn’t need to see to know the blacksmith’s shop was behind him and to the right, that the chapel was two shops to the left of the blacksmith and connected to the castle, or that the stable was to his left.
He didn’t need to see to know there were exactly ten steps from the bailey up to the castle doors.
Because he had counted those steps every day of his life since he could walk.
This was his home, a home that had been stolen from him. A home that had once held happy memories, but was now filled with the ghosts of his father, uncle and sister.
The cart circled the bailey and came to rest next to the stable just as Braden had instructed. He waited until Keith, Mary and Colin were out of the cart and well away before he gave a hard shove against the wood at his side.
The board popped off at the bottom. Braden grasped the board and scooted from his hiding spot, hidden beside the stable wall, before he dropped to the ground.
Carefully, silently, he replaced the board. After a look around to make sure no one was watching, he slipped into the stable.
As he was in the MacAlister plaid, no one paid him any heed. His people still wore their clan tartan with pride. But it was his face he worried about. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head so that his face was in shadow.
Braden glanced at his favorite horse who nickered when he neared. As much as Braden wanted to stop and stroke the sleek grey coat, he couldn’t.
He exited the back of the stable and turned to the left to walk behind the buildings to the chapel. As he neared the chapel, his heart quickened.
Already he had progressed farther into his plot than he had expected he would. Even if Niall somehow caught him, the other clans would come. They would surround the castle. And a battle that would be spoken about for centuries would ensue.
Niall’s reign would come to an end no matter what.
Braden peered around the chapel to see Colin standing at the gate talking to the guards. It was the sign that his other men should begin to infiltrate the castle.
As much as Braden wanted to kill Niall, he couldn’t. Niall needed to be brought before the king and tried for his unspeakable crimes. The king would decide what sort of death Niall deserved.
Braden pushed against the stone that unlocked the door to the back of the chapel. There a soft thud before the wooden door opened a crack.
He urged the door open just enough so that he could slip inside. Braden pulled the door closed behind him before ducking into the shadows.
Despite his need to move, he stayed still for a moment. He had to be prudent.
When he was sure that no one else was in the chapel, Braden hurried behind the altar in a crouch. His fingers gripped at the wooden floorboards at the base of the altar and he worked on lifting them. For a moment nothing happened, and then the boards gave way.
Braden glanced at the single section of five boards in his hands. They fit so snugly together that no one had ever seen the seam and realized it was a trap door.
He set the boards aside and sat on the outside of the hole so that his legs dangled into the darkness beneath him.
No light was needed. Though Braden had never had to use this tunnel from the chapel before, his father had made him travel all the underground tunnels so often that Braden knew them as well as he knew the castle.
He jumped into the tunnel and landed with his knees bent. After a moment, he straightened, reached for the boards and settled them back into place over the tunnel entrance.
Then he started running. To the castle. To Niall and the end of all he had wrought.
Seven
Jean clutched her cloak so tightly her fingers began to ache. Keith had deposited her between two shops while he and Colin played their parts.
She saw Colin talking to the guards at the gate. Was this some sort of sign for the others? Jean was turning away when she spotted Braden. He walked with strong, purposeful steps on his way to the chapel. She wanted to go to him, to help him. To hold him.
But instead she held her ground.
It wouldn’t be long now before her father and the other clans surrounded the castle. She had promised Keith she would make her way out of the castle before the battle began. As much as she wanted to be around to aid them, she knew she would only be a hindrance.
Jean didn’t walk through the middle of the bailey. She kept close to the shops, mingling with the occupants. She was constantly on the lookout for Niall.
She was almost to the gate when someone rammed a shoulder into her, spinning her around. Jean was ready to bolt until she saw Keith’s ashen face.
He weaved on his feet, his breathing laboured. Jean saw the blood dripping from the fingers of his left hand.
“Keith?”
He tried to smile but only tilted towards her.
Jean quickly grabbed his hulking form and backed him into an alley between the shops. “Keith, what happened?”
“The guard I took down got lucky,” he rasped. “I didn’t get out of the way … in time.”
Jean lifted his cloak and grimaced when she saw the wound in his side. If she could tend to it he would live. “I need to get you out of here.”
“Nay,” he growled. “I’m to be inside the castle for Braden.”
“In this condition you would only get yourself and Braden killed.”
“Bind the wound,” he ordered, his eyes hard. “I willna let Braden down.”
Jean inwardly cursed as she lifted her gown and tore off a piece of her shift. She wound it around Keith. “This won’t be enough to stop the bleeding, but it should slow it.”
“It’ll have to do, lass.”
“Nay,” she said and grabbed his shoulder. “Tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.”
He shook his head sadly, as he struggled to keep upright. “You canna.”
“I can do it better than you can in your condition. Tell me, Keith.”
“Braden will kill me.”
“I won’t get caught.”
Keith’s gaze stabbed her. “You better no’.”
“Tell me. Then get to Colin.”
Jean listened to every word, memorizing every detail. She swallowed and looked at the dark grey stone of the castle.
“Can you do it?” Keith asked.
“Aye. For Braden I can.”
Keith’s meaty hand clamped on her shoulder. “Good luck, lass. You’re going to need it.”
Braden paused in the tunnel as he reached what could be the last door that stood between him and Niall. He withdrew his weapon and put an ear to the door, listening for any sounds.
Braden had taken the tunnel that lead to the master chamber. The chamber Niall had taken for himself, of course.
He slowly opened the hidden door and stepped into the room. One glance showed that Niall was nowhere to be found. The chamber however was in complete disarray.
Braden made his way silently into the corridor. Niall knew that one day Braden would come to try to take back his castle so Niall had guards set up everywhere.
It didn’t deter Braden, however.
He crept up behind the first guard and knocked him on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword, then dragged him into the nearest chamber. He tore the linens and bound and gagged the guard.