Chapter 3 C3

Mary stroked his hair as his warm breath blew over her breast. He sounded so much older than his tender years. And so proud.

"I escaped and hid in the cart of a traveling merchant. I rode for a day before he discovered me." He tilted his head up, bumping her sore jaw again. "Where are we, Mary?" he whispered. "Are we very far from home?"

"I'm not sure where your home is," she said ruefully. "But we are in the lowlands, and I would wager we're at least a two days' ride from your keep."

"The lowlands," he spat. "Are you a lowlander?"

She smiled at his vehemence. "Nay, Crispen. I'm a highlander."

"Then what are you doing here?" he persisted. "Did they steal you from your home?"

She sighed. " 'Tis a long story. One that began before you were born."

When he tensed for another question, she hushed him with a gentle squeeze. "Go to sleep now, Crispen. We must keep our strength up if we are to escape."

"We're going to escape?" he whispered.

"Aye, of course. That's what prisoners do," she said in a cheerful tone. The fear in his voice made her ache for him. How terrifying it must be for him to be so far from home and the ones who love him.

"Will you take me back home to my papa? I'll make him protect you from Laird Cameron."

She smiled at the fierceness in his voice. "Of course, I'll see to it that you get home."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

******************

"Find my son!"

Edward Woods's roar could be heard over the entire courtyard. His men all stood at attention, their expressions solemn. Some were creased in sympathy. They believed Crispen to be dead, though no one dared to utter that possibility to him.

It wasn't something Edward hadn't contemplated himself, but he would not rest until his son was found-dead or alive.

He turned to his brothers, Alan and Caleb. "I cannot afford to send every man in search of Crispen," he said in a low voice. "To do so would leave us vulnerable. I trust you two with my life-with my son's life. I want you each to take a contingent of men and ride in different directions. Bring him home to me."

Alan, the second oldest of the Woods brothers, nodded. "You know we won't rest until he is found."

"Aye, I know," Edward said.

Edward watched as the two strode off, shouting orders to their men. He closed his eyes and curled his fingers into fists of rage. Who dared take his son? For three days he'd waited for a ransom demand, only none had been forthcoming. For three days he'd scoured every inch of the land and beyond.

Was this a precursor to an attack? Were his enemies plotting to hit him when he was weak? When every available soldier would be involved in the search?

His jaw hardened as he gazed around his crumbling keep. For eight years he'd struggled to keep his clan alive and strong. The Woods name had always been synonymous with power and pride. Eight years ago they'd withstood a crippling attack. Betrayed by the woman Caleb loved. Edward's father and young wife had been killed, their child surviving only because he'd been hidden by one of the servants.

Almost nothing had been left when he and his brothers had returned. Just a hulking mass of ruins, his people scattered to the winds, his army nearly decimated.

There had been nothing for Edward to take over when he became laird.

It had taken this long to rebuild. His soldiers were the best trained in the highlands. He and his brothers worked brutal hours to make sure there was food for the oldting ork, the women, and the children. Many times the men went without. And silently they grew, adding to their numbers until, finally, Edward had begun to turn their struggling clan around.

Soon, his thoughts could turn to revenge. Nay, that wasn't accurate. Revenge had been all that sustained him for these past eight years. There wasn't a day he hadn't thought about it.

"Laird, I bring news of your son."

Edward whipped around to see one of his soldiers hurrying up to him, his tunic dusty as though he'd just gotten off his horse.

"Speak," he commanded.

"One of the McDonalds came upon your son three days ago along the northern border of your land. He took him, intending to deliver him to their laird so he could ransom the boy. Only, the boy escaped. No one has seen him since."

Edward trembled with rage. "Take eight soldiers and ride to McDonald. Deliver him this message. He will present the soldier who took my son to the entrance of my keep or he signs his own death warrant. If he doesn't comply, I will come for him myself. I will kill him. And it won't be quick. Do not leave a word out of my message."

The soldier bowed. "Aye, Laird."

He turned and hurried off, leaving Edward with a mix of relief and rage. Crispen was alive, or at least he had been. McDonald was a fool for breaching their tacit peace agreement. Though the two clans could hardly be considered allies, McDonald wasn't stupid enough to incite the wrath of Edward Woods. His keep might be crumbling, and his people might not be the best-fed clan, but his might had been restored twofold.

His soldiers were a deadly fighting force to be reckoned with, and those close enough to Edward's holdings realized it. But Edward's sights weren't on his neighbors. They were on Duncan Cameron. Edward wouldn't be happy until the whole of Scotland dripped with Cameron's blood.

Mary gazed wearily at the looming keep as they rode through the final stone skirt and into the courtyard. Thoughts of escape deteriorated as she stared helplessly at the massive holding. It was impenetrable.

Men were everywhere, most of them training, some tending to repairs on portions of the inner wall, others taking a rest and drinking water from a pail close to the steps of the keep.

As if sensing her fatalistic thoughts, Crispen looked up, his green eyes bright with fear. Her arms were looped around his body, her hands tied together in front of him, and she squeezed him to try to reassure him. But 'twas God's truth, she was shaking like the last leaf in autumn.

The soldier leading her horse pulled up, and she had to fight to stay in the saddle. Crispen steadied them by grabbing onto the horse's mane.

Finn rode up beside them and yanked Mary from the horse. Crispen came with her, screeching his surprise as he tumbled from her grasp to the ground.

Finn lowered her down, his fingers bruising her arm with his grip. She wrenched away and reached with her bound hands to help Crispen stand.

All around them, activity ceased as everyone stopped to take stock of the new arrival. A few of the keep's women stared curiously at her from a distance, whispering behind their hands.

She knew she must look a fright, but she was more concerned with what would happen when Laird Cameron arrived to view his captive. God help her then.

And then she saw him. He appeared at the top of the steps leading into the keep, his gaze sharp as he sought her out. The rumors of his greed, of his ruthlessness and ambition, led her to expect the very image of the devil. To her surprise, he was an exceedingly handsome man.