Читать книгу Highlanders Collection - Бренда Джойс, Ann Lethbridge - Страница 26

The circular defences of the English fortress were heavily guarded. Archers wearing chainmail stood at the gatehouse, while Bram spied more soldiers patrolling the motte-and-bailey structure. As Hamish led them inside, Bram felt the coldness rising up. His claymore was strapped across his back, hidden from view by his cloak. He kept his shoulders lowered, trying to hide himself from their view, but he counted soldiers, mentally reviewing their positions.

A second inner curtain wall enclosed a modest wooden structure that was starting to resemble a keep. From the layers of stone built up against the wood, Bram supposed that prisoners were being used for the labour. He kept his eyes fixed upon the ground, searching for the entrance to the prison. It would be a small opening, likely somewhere near the centre of the fortress.

Though he kept near the others for now, he was already planning to slip away to find the location. It might be that he could steal away while Hamish was speaking with Harkirk.

Hamish dismounted and led them inside the fortress. He’d worn his best tunic and a cloak lined with fur, making it clear that this meeting was indeed meant to be a negotiation.

Bram’s gaze flickered to the Englishman and the ruthlessness in his eyes reminded him of Cairnross. He possessed an air of superiority, as if he owned the souls of the men around him.

‘I have come with the chief of the MacKinloch clan,’ Hamish began. ‘He wishes to negotiate the return of his younger brother Callum, whom we believe to be a prisoner here.’

The English lord’s face remained cold and impassive. ‘I presume you are speaking of the one who was transferred to me from Cairnross.’

‘Aye,’ Alex interrupted. He stepped forwards, meeting Harkirk’s expression with his own determination. ‘I want Callum returned to us.’

‘And what are you prepared to offer in return?’ the lord enquired. ‘Another hostage to take his place?’

An icy coldness rose up in Bram’s throat, but he didn’t flinch or turn his face away. Instead, he stared hard at the enemy, letting Harkirk see the unbridled hatred. Men had suffered and died in chains, innocent victims who had been taken to punish the clan members.

‘You’re going to release him,’ Bram said quietly. ‘The clans protect their own.’

‘Do they? Then why is it that they’ve retreated to the north, hiding in the wilderness?’

‘They’re biding their time,’ Bram answered. ‘Joining forces together.’ He lifted his eyes to the Englishman’s. ‘By keeping our clansmen as prisoners, you give us a reason to join together against a common enemy.’

Harkirk let out a rough laugh. ‘Your barbaric fighting methods don’t stand a chance against our cavalry. We’ll defeat you, just as we did with Wallace’s men at Falkirk.’ A thin smile stretched his lips. ‘And you know what they did to Wallace. He was drawn and quartered, like the traitor he was.’

He gave a flick of his hand and half-a-dozen guards came closer in a silent threat. ‘MacPherson, we’ve nothing more to discuss.’

‘One prisoner,’ Hamish interrupted, lifting his palm. ‘I am prepared to offer silver for his safe return.’

Bram’s fists tightened when he saw the bag of coins Hamish withdrew from beneath his cloak. He recognised the sack of false coins and he held his breath.

‘A contribution from our clan,’ Alex intervened.

‘You’re prepared to pay a ransom?’

‘For our brother, yes. But as for your other prisoners, you risk the wrath of the other clans by holding them captive.’

Harkirk signalled for one of his men to come forwards. Hamish reached into the bag and withdrew a few of the silver coins for inspection. The servant eyed them, then nodded to his overlord.

The English baron seemed to deliberate for several moments, before replying, ‘Bring me Cairnross’s prisoner.’

Nairna was waiting inside the courtyard when they returned. Her heart soared with thankfulness when she saw Bram and, most of all, the man they’d brought home with them. She didn’t doubt it was Callum MacKinloch, for the man held the look of his brothers, despite his captivity. Yet he was different from Bram. Though he walked with a slight limp, it was the emptiness in his gaze that worried her.

Nairna rushed forwards to Bram, but he made no move to greet her. His expression was angry and all he would say was, ‘Pack our belongings. We’re leaving immediately.’

She couldn’t understand what was the matter. He’d rescued Callum, hadn’t he? ‘What’s wrong?’

Bram kept walking and she struggled to keep up with his pace. Nairna saw Callum enter the keep, leaning upon Alex for support.

‘Wait for me,’ she begged Bram and ordered one of the serving maids to bring food and fresh clothing to Bram’s brother.

In the meantime, her husband had already disappeared into their chamber. When Nairna arrived, he was pacing across the floor.

‘What is it?’ She couldn’t understand what had brought about his frustration.

‘It was too simple, Nairna. I don’t trust them.’

‘Are you angry about the coins I sent with my father?’ she asked, her face reddening. ‘Did he have to use them?’

‘He paid the ransom, aye. But when they learn that the money at the bottom is false, they’ll—’

‘The top layer wasn’t false,’ she admitted. ‘Only the remainder. It’s still worth a man’s life.’

Bram took a breath, leaning his hand against the wall. ‘I pray they don’t find out until we’re gone.’

She saw the immense guilt mingled with his confusion and frustration. Though she’d hoped that Callum’s safe return would alleviate her husband’s guilt, it didn’t seem to have made a difference.

‘It wouldn’t surprise me if they attacked us on our way back to Glen Arrin,’ he said. ‘We’ll leave at nightfall, when it’s more difficult for them to track our path.’

He didn’t feel safe, she understood. Not even here, among her father’s men. ‘All right,’ she said softly. ‘We’ll go tonight.’

Nairna moved closer, sliding her arms around him. ‘Something else is troubling you.’ Whether he wanted her or not, she needed to offer him some form of comfort.

‘Callum hasn’t spoken once, not since we left Harkirk’s fortress.’ Bram drew her tightly against him, his hand clutching her hair. ‘Not a word. It was as if he didn’t know us.’

‘That will change when he’s home,’ Nairna predicted. ‘You’ll see.’

‘I left him there too long.’

While she held Bram, the burden of guilt pressed down on him so hard that she wished she could shoulder it for him. ‘He’ll heal. Give it time.’

But he let go of her, his face growing stoic. ‘I hope so.’ He walked to the door, and reminded her, ‘Prepare our belongings. I’m going to see my brother now.’

He didn’t wait for a reply, but closed the door behind him. A hard lump formed in her throat, but Nairna knew she could do nothing more. Bram had returned home to her unharmed, with his brother safe, and that was everything she’d prayed for. Yet, as she waited alone in her chamber, she feared that the demons of her husband’s past were not at all gone.

They didn’t stop to sleep on the journey home, nor did they take more than a few minutes to rest or eat. Nairna thought her legs would drop off from the gruelling pace, but the men were convinced that Harkirk would follow them. She’d nearly fallen asleep on horseback, once they’d reached the area surrounding Glen Arrin.

Tall green mountains rose up, while a light rain fell down upon them. Rivulets of water creased the mountains, while fir trees skirted the lower hills. Nairna’s clothing was completely soaked, but she hardly cared anymore. It had done nothing but rain since they’d left.

And her husband hadn’t spoken to her in that time, either, keeping at Callum’s side. Now that it was daylight, she took a moment to study Bram’s younger brother. With long dark hair and a bearded face that hid his features, he looked a great deal like his brothers. It was only the emptiness in his expression that made her understand that he had endured far more than Bram. Though she’d sent fresh clothing to Callum, he still wore the stained, ill-fitting clothing he’d worn for the years of his imprisonment.

When she’d tried to question why he’d refused the clothing, Bram wouldn’t answer. He’d ignored her attempts at conversation, spending all of his time at Callum’s side.

They stopped at a stream to let the horses drink and Nairna came closer to the men. She’d hoped to introduce herself to Callum, but they’d shielded him from her. It was only when they were moving back to the horses that she caught a glimpse of their brother’s back.

His ragged tunic was the colour of rust and she covered her mouth when she understood why he hadn’t removed his garments. They were coated in blood; it was likely that removing the clothing would cause him pain.

Nairna swallowed hard, remembering the scars upon Bram’s back. He wouldn’t talk about them, nor share anything about his captivity, but it was clear that Callum had suffered a great deal.

Once they started up again, she brought her mount beside Bram’s. ‘Your brother needs a healer.’

‘I know it.’

‘His clothing is stuck to his flesh, isn’t it?’ she murmured beneath her breath.

He nodded. ‘We tried to take it off him yesterday, but he fought us. He’s not in his right mind. He isn’t aware of what’s going on.’

‘Is there something I can do?’ she asked. ‘Tell me and I’ll arrange it.’

‘There’s nothing, Nairna.’

‘I don’t believe that.’ She met his gaze with resolution of her own. ‘He’s alive. And we can help him recover.’

Her husband shook his head, a weariness in his eyes. ‘There are some wounds that never heal, Nairna.’

That night, after they arrived home at Glen Arrin, Bram tried again to talk to his brother. Callum sat, staring into the distance while a bath of hot water grew cold.

‘I’m sorry,’ Bram murmured, though he knew the words meant nothing. ‘We tried to go back for you sooner. For a time, we didn’t know where you were.’

Silence. His brother made no response, gave no indication that he’d heard a single word. A knot swelled up in the back of his throat and Bram tried to think of something he could say that would get Callum to open up.

His brother’s face was filthy, his hair matted with mud. Bruises and cuts marred the surface and his clothing smelled of blood and decay.

‘Let me help you, Brother,’ he pleaded. He took a step forwards, hoping that Callum would let him closer. But as soon as he tried to reach for the tunic, his brother’s mouth twisted into a snarl. Like a cornered animal, he refused to let anyone near.

When Bram reached out to touch him, Callum’s knuckles smashed into his eye. Pain exploded from the blow and Bram released his frustration.

‘Damn it, Callum, why won’t you let me help you? I know you’re hurt. I’ve seen the blood.’

But his brother refused to speak. Bram sat upon a bench, his head lowered, his hands shaking.

The door opened quietly and Nairna stepped inside. ‘Has he eaten anything?’

‘Very little.’ Bram met his wife’s worried gaze and she walked over to his side. ‘I don’t want to restrain him, but we need to treat his wounds before they get worse.’

‘Will you let me try to help?’ Nairna asked.

Bram lifted his shoulders in surrender. He’d done all he could; if Nairna could break through to him, so be it.

His wife bade him, ‘Wait here. I’ll return in a moment.’

Callum stared at the wall and Bram set a cup of mead near him. It remained untouched.

When the door opened again, Nairna entered with Lady Marguerite. Bram couldn’t understand why, but the moment Callum laid eyes upon Marguerite, something stirred in his expression. Though he didn’t speak, he stared at her instead of into the empty air.

‘Let Marguerite try,’ Nairna said. ‘She met him weeks ago.’

From the way the maiden was already approaching Callum, it seemed that they did know one another.

Marguerite wore a sapphire silk gown trimmed with grey fur, her hair spilling over her shoulder, though it was covered with a veil. Callum watched her as though he were dreaming and Bram felt Nairna take his hand, guiding him out.

‘We’ll wait just beyond the door if you need us,’ Nairna was saying. She led Bram into the hallway outside the chamber, closing the door all but a few inches.

‘How do they know each other?’ Bram whispered, peering through the crack in the door.

‘He was beaten after you left,’ Nairna said. ‘Marguerite found him and tended his wounds. He was sent away the next morning.’ She moved beside him, resting her head upon his chest while they both watched over the pair. ‘He allowed her to help him then. He might again.’

Marguerite was speaking to Callum in soft tones, seated across from him. In the flickering light of the torch set within a sconce, Bram spied a tear running down the woman’s face. She continued talking, though she spoke in the French tongue. And after several minutes, Callum turned his back to her. Lady Marguerite came near, still talking. And when she reached him, her hands came to rest upon his shoulders.

Nairna’s fingers moved inside Bram’s tunic, tracing the scars there. As if shadowing Marguerite’s movements, his wife soothed his skin, her face pressed against his heartbeat.

He’d been like Callum once. It had been so hard to face the outside world, so hard to accept that he was finally safe. There would be no one to shut him up in the darkness. No one to strike out at him or cut him down.

‘Are you all right?’ Nairna murmured. ‘Your eye is swollen.’

‘I got too close,’ was all he would tell her. But they both watched as his brother finally allowed Marguerite to help him remove the bloodstained tunic. He exhaled a sharp hiss when she had to peel back the fabric from his skin.

When his bare back was revealed at last, Nairna’s arms held him tight. Bram breathed in the scent of her hair, holding her close as the years of his brother’s torment were revealed. By the Holy Rood, the sight of Callum’s raw, unhealed flesh was enough to send his stomach turning.

Though her face turned white, Lady Marguerite said not a word. She merely soaked a clean rag in the cooled bath water and brought it to Callum, touching his face with it. Soothing him. Then she wet it again and lightly wrung it out before setting the cool cloth upon his brother’s back.

‘She’s doing well with him,’ Nairna whispered, moving out of his embrace. ‘We should leave them be.’

‘She’s a maiden,’ Bram argued. ‘It isn’t right to leave them alone.’

‘He’s not about to hurt her.’ Nairna pulled at his hand. ‘Look.’

Callum had raised his face to Marguerite’s. Though his eyes held suffering, there was also relief there. There was no threat from Marguerite and his brother succumbed to her touch.

‘Bram,’ Nairna whispered. ‘Come with me.’

He didn’t want to follow, but his wife wouldn’t let go of his hand. She led him down the winding stairs and outside.

The rain had stopped and the ground was soft beneath their feet, coated with a light moisture. He thought Nairna would bring them back to their house, but instead she led him to the grain hut, where they’d spent their first few nights. It was dark inside and the interior smelled of barley.

‘He’ll be all right,’ she whispered. ‘You kept your promise.’

‘Why did you bring me here?’ He wound his arms around her waist, not understanding her purpose.

‘I know you’ll want to stay close to him this night. So we might as well sleep here instead of in our house.’

He understood her intention, but he wasn’t going to leave Callum alone that long. For all they knew, his brother had fallen into the madness that haunted the prisoners he’d known.

‘You can sleep here, if you wish,’ he murmured to Nairna. ‘But I need to go back to the keep. Alex and I can take turns watching over him.’

She touched his lips with her fingertips, before pressing a kiss upon his mouth. ‘I love you.’

In her eyes, he saw the yearning and something inside him warmed to it. But he couldn’t voice an answer. He didn’t deserve to be loved, not after all this. If he could have gone back and changed his fate, he’d have freed Callum instead of seizing the chance for himself. His moment of selfishness might have destroyed his brother.

‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ he said to her, kissing her forehead before he left. As he left, his wife’s face held a sadness, as if he’d hurt her physically. And though he felt her pain as his own, there was nothing he could do to change it.