Ashlyn (The Highland Clan Book 5) (9 page)

Ashlyn’s heart beat so fast, she guessed they could see it through her mantle. She took in a couple of deep breaths to slow herself down. They had to find MacNiven—no other resolution was acceptable. Before they left, Logan gave them his last piece of advice that echoed Ashlyn’s thoughts: “Find the bastard.”

Just before they headed out the gates, Jamie turned to face his group. “We’re splitting up so we can cover more ground.”

“I agree,” Magnus said, nodding. “Five traveling together is unusual.”

“Tormod, once we get to the center of the burgh, you will join Magnus and Ashlyn,” Jamie continued. “Braden and I will go off on our own.” When they reached the center, an active area with tall buildings made of stone on either side of the narrow cobblestone street, Jamie pointed down the road. “I see three inns. We shall go to the first one. Magnus, you go check the area around the far one, then we can meet in the middle and plan our next move.”

They separated, and Ashlyn’s party made their way to the inn Jamie had assigned to them. Tormod stood on one side of her, and Magnus stood on the other. The closer they got to their destination, the more people they ran into. A couple of minstrels were playing in the middle of the road, attracting the attention of the passersby, many of whom showed evidence of being intoxicated.

Ashlyn listened to conversations as she pushed her way through the crowd. People spoke openly when they did not realize others were listening. She stopped in the middle, turning toward Magnus. “Why do we not just keep wandering through to pick up what people are talking about?”

Magnus turned to Tormod. “We’ll just eavesdrop for a bit, see what we learn.” He pointed off toward one direction. “You go that way, and Ashlyn and I will go in this direction. We’ll meet you back at this spot.”

They separated, and Ashlyn moved into the middle of a group, staring at one of the minstrels. She picked up on several different conversations:

“Have you found a lass to warm your bed tonight?”

“Nay, I’ll go home to my wife.”

“What do you think the king will have for a meal on the morrow?”

She moved steadily through the crowd, Magnus not far from her, hoping to overhear something to do with MacNiven.

“My sire says a storm is coming. He could tell by the squirrels.”

“Let’s go to the inn and see what we can find.”

Ashlyn looked up and noticed Magnus’s tall figure behind her. Easing her way toward him, she asked, “Have you heard aught, Magnus?”

“Nay. Only who is bedding whom later.”

Off to the side, but still attached to the crowd, three men were whispering to one another. She thought that odd since most of the men at the inn were loudly boasting about their accomplishments. “Over there, I’d like to hear what they are discussing.”

They moved through the crowd until they stood not far away.

“I cannot hear a word they are saying,” Magnus said, “and I do not wish to move closer or we shall be suspect.”

“Hush. I can hear them.” She focused her attention on the three lads near them, edging her way closer, but making sure not to move too far away from Magnus.

The first one said, “This could be a good opportunity.”

“Will it be enough to pay for a strumpet?”

“Nay, ‘tis not a temporary thing. The man’s called Chief Dubh, and he is looking for guards. He’s paying top coin.”

The men headed off in a different direction.

Ashlyn elbowed Magnus.

“What?” he whispered.

“Chief Dubh. They are talking about someone called Chief Dubh.”

Ashlyn moved to follow them, but Magnus pulled her back. “Where are you going?”

“To follow them.” She stared into his eyes, her gaze unwavering. “Chief Dubh must be MacNiven.”

“I thought he went by MacNeil?”

“Who else could it be? Follow me. We are losing them.”

“Nay, they are leaving the inn. We’ll not follow them. ‘Tis too dangerous, and we agreed to meet with Jamie shortly.”

“Magnus! It could be our only chance.” The people around them gave her looks—some wary, some curious. She hadn’t meant to draw their attention, but the sense of urgency in her belly drove her.

Magnus quirked his brow at her, and all she could do was glower at him in return. “Why must you ruin this? ‘Tis too late now.” The men had disappeared completely. She searched the area, finally accepting that they had lost them.

“Our instructions were to go to the inns, or have you forgotten? We’ve wandered the area long enough. ‘Tis time to do as we were told. As a warrior, you must do as your chief instructs you. One does not go off on their own.” He tugged her back through the crowd, making his way toward Tormod.

“What have you learned, Tormod?” Magnus asked, his hand on the small of Ashlyn’s back. It felt as if it belonged there, but she shot him a frown.

“I just heard talk of a Chief Dubh hiring men,” Tormod responded.

Ashlyn jerked in response. “We heard the same. How do we find him?”

“They said they were waiting for more information. Apparently, he is asking for many men. ‘Tis all I know.” His hands settled on his hips as he scanned the area.

“Shall we go into the inn as instructed by Jamie?” Magnus asked.

Ashlyn led the way to the farthest inn, refusing to look at Magnus. Why did he insist on being so stubborn? As they neared the inn, Tormod pulled Magnus aside. “What shall we do with her when we go into the tavern?” she heard him say in an undertone.

Magnus shook his head. “She goes with us.”

“They do not allow lasses into the taverns. Only the ones who work.”

“No matter, she’ll go in with us. I’ll not leave her out on her own. Or did you have another idea?”

“Nay, unless you wish to sit outside with her,” Tormod said, glancing at Ashlyn.

Magnus stepped past him and opened the door to the tavern, holding it for Ashlyn. Hellfire, she wished to be angry with him, but how could she? He was always there for her, supporting her, watching over her, or assisting her.

There was no time to stew over it, though, for the inn was full of patrons, many of whom seemed to be having a grand time with the serving girls. One in particular was quite bawdy, and she teased every man she walked past. Magnus found them a table in the corner and sent Tormod to the counter for three drinks.

Much as she tried, she heard naught. The conversations were dull, but very bawdy. One particular comment had her shaking her head and glancing at Magnus. “That wench has the best arse I’ve ever seen,” the lad had said about the woman bringing drinks to the patrons. “I’d love to plow her tonight. Do you think she’ll have me?”

Magnus stifled a guffaw while she narrowed her gaze at him. “Truly, men are such simpletons.”

Magnus glanced at Tormod, who had just returned with their drinks. “Aye, but she does have a nice arse. What do you think, Tormod?”

Tormod stared at him wide-eyed, apparently afraid to discuss the topic in front of her. She jumped out of her seat. “I think ‘tis time to go to the next inn.”

“Lass, I’d like to finish my drink.” Magnus chugged down half his ale as he followed her with his gaze. “But if you’re eager to go, we’ll follow you. There’s naught for us here.”

Moments later, they were all outside. Ashlyn tried to push away from them, but Magnus reached out and touched her arm. Speaking in an undertone, he said, “Forgive me, lass. I should not have been so crude with you, but I was trying to fit in with the crowd.”

Tormod stepped in front of Ashlyn, keeping her between him and Magnus as he led the way to the next tavern. It was a protective move, but Ashlyn found she did not wish to object. The next tavern was more unruly than the last.

“Och,” Tormod said, “they are more sotted than the last group. Mayhap their tongues will be looser.”

They found a table in the corner since Jamie was not here yet, and Magnus ushered her into the seat closest to the wall, undoubtedly so he could continue to protect her. Once they all had drinks in front of them, she surveyed the lads in the inn.

One group was especially raucous, and Magnus turned his focus on them.

Ashlyn followed his gaze, but was distracted by a conversation she heard off to the left.

“We need to find young girls,” a fair-haired lad said. Ashlyn’s gaze shot to Magnus, but he and Tormod were deep in conversation, shooting occasional glances at the table that had originally caught Magnus’s attention. They were oblivious to what was unfolding beside them.

“But why? I thought he was searching for guards,” the lad’s companion growled.

“Because, fool, they always want young girls. At least, most chiefs want some wenches along. If we find some willing…”

His friend guffawed. “Willing?”

“Aye, you get my meaning. If we bring one or two along, that could get us in as guards. Now finish your ale so we can find us a couple of wenches.” He took a long swig of his ale.

“Ashlyn, we are not staying here long.” Magnus knocked her elbow to draw her attention.

“Why not? Is there a problem?” She wanted to return her attention to the lads. Surely the fair-haired lad could lead them to MacNiven.

“Because I do not like the way these men are staring at you.”

“I’ll circle the chamber before we leave,” Tormod said, jumping to his feet. “At least then we will have completed our assignment.” He left without waiting to hear what Magnus thought about that.

Ashlyn looked around the room. A few lads were staring at her, but not many. What was Magnus’s problem? She gave up and returned her attention to the two who had been discussing their search for young wenches.

They were gone.

“Nay!” She stood up from her stool, her eyes searching the tavern. “Where are they?”

“Who?” Magnus asked.

“The two men seated at that table,” she whispered. She gave a slight nod to the table where the two lads had been sitting.

“They must have left. Why?”

“We must follow them,” she urged. “I overheard them talking about stealing young wenches.” She moved toward the door, only to find a human wall in front of her.

“Wait, please. Do not go out alone. I must tell Tormod before we leave.” She tapped her foot as she waited for him. As soon as Magnus spoke to the other guard, she hurried out the door, hoping she would be able to locate them. Magnus followed directly behind her. She halted in the middle of the path, but then moved close to him to whisper.

“Where are they? Magnus, help me find them! They could lead us to MacNiven.” She headed down the path just as Tormod burst out of the inn.

The very instant Magnus turned around to explain why they’d needed to leave in such a hurry, Ashlyn heard the word “chief” coming from around the corner of the next building. She ran ahead while Magnus and Tormod were wrapped up in their conversation, which was starting to sound like an argument.

As soon as she stepped around the corner, a fist caught her in the side of her head, knocking her out.

Chapter Nine

Magnus said, “I’ll not continue to argue with you, Tormod. Ashlyn says she overheard something, and I believe her.”

He turned back toward her and his gut clenched. Where the hell was she? “Ashlyn?” He ran toward the corner of the building, which was where he’d last seen her, Tormod at his side.

When they turned the corner, Magnus heard a noise and looked at Tormod just in time to see him crumple to the ground after being hit in the head. The next instant, Magnus’s head exploded in pain, and his world went dark.

When he awakened, he was in a dark chamber below ground, his hands tied behind him. Where was he? Where were Ashlyn and Tormod? There was a gag in his mouth, so he could not yell either. It was so dark, he had to wait until his eyesight adjusted before he could see aught else in the chamber.

Where was Tormod? Hellfire, but he’d done something stupid. He should never have taken his gaze off the lass. He and Tormod had caused this by disagreeing in a crowd. They’d made themselves easy targets.

The next thought that registered was that some lad had touched Ashlyn. He almost wished they’d knocked her out first. He tugged on the bindings around his wrists and smiled. The fools hadn’t tied him nearly tight enough. It would take him a few minutes, but he’d be free of his bindings in no time.

While he worked on the ties around his wrists, he said a quick prayer that Ashlyn was strong enough to handle herself until he could get to her. He’d find her, but she had to hold her own for a bit. Something told him she would. Alex Grant and Logan Ramsay would never have agreed to include her on this mission if they’d doubted her abilities. Besides, he’d seen plenty of evidence of her strength.

Hang on, Ash. I’m coming for you
.

He finally freed himself. After he’d dispensed with the ropes that had secured him, he glanced around him only to discover he was in a low chamber with a barricaded door. Though he threw himself at the door over and over, it showed no sign of yielding.

The thought of someone touching Ashlyn drove him onward. The fifth time he hit the door, he heard a crack in the wood, so he went at it a sixth time, releasing a bellow that would scare the daylights out of any bairn. Still, it didn’t move.

But he’d attracted someone. A sound came from the outside. Magnus reached for his sword, an instinctive reaction, but of course, it was not in its sheath. Cursing, he punched the door with his fist. “Come on in and fight me, you bastard.”

The door opened and a thin lad came straight at him with a sword, so Magnus sidestepped him, then lunged after him, knocking the sword out of his hand and tossing him against the far wall. The lad slumped to the floor, but Magnus needed to be sure he wouldn’t follow him, so he picked him up and punched him square in his jaw, knocking him out. He grabbed the sword—
his
sword, he realized—and sheathed it.

Then an awful sound assailed his ears.

“You bitch. I’ll kill you for that.” Loud words from a very deep voice.

Ashlyn.

***

Slud, but her head hurt. When Ashlyn came to, she found herself in a chamber she’d never seen before. Two men sat at a table in the corner, the same ones she’d seen in the inn, drinking ale and discussing their plans. She closed her eyes and listened. She was lying on a pallet with her hands and feet bound and a piece of cloth stuffed in her mouth, so there would be no ready escape. Magnus and Jamie would come for her, but that would take time. She might as well learn all she could.

“I did not think you were serious about taking a wench with us.”

“She’s the one who was watching us at the inn,” the fair-haired lad said. “We’ll bring her to the meet at the crossroads tomorrow. Maybe she’ll up our chances of getting work.”

“I just wish to become a guard and earn some coin. I would rather not drag a feisty wench along.”

  “Think of her as a sort of gift for Chief Dubh.”

“Who is he, anyway? I’ve not heard of him before the other day.”

“I doubt we’ll ever know his true identity. They say he always wears a helm or a mask. Mayhap his face is severely scarred. ‘Tis not important. We only need to join him for a fortnight or so, earn our coin, and come back wealthy.”

“When are we moving her, and what are we to do with the fool below? Why did you bring him here?”

“Because he was too big to hide anywhere,” the fair-haired man scoffed. “Once we got him in the cart, it was easy to move him. Can we not sell him? He’d be a great guard for the chief.”

“If you could get him to follow your orders, which I doubt. We’ll just leave the man behind, he’ll die after a few days with no food or water.”

Ashlyn said a quick prayer that Tormod had gotten a message to Jamie and the others. Her captors could only be speaking of Magnus—and how it hurt to think of him suffering for her foolishness—but her clan would find them for sure.

She had to believe it. A loud banging sound interrupted the lads’ talk.

“Shite. He must be awake down below.”

“Go knock him out again. We cannot have him carrying on like that. He’ll break down the door.”

Ashlyn peeked through her lashes as the one lad took off through the door, grabbing a sword on his way out. The other lout looked down at her.

He sauntered over. “I think you are awake, lass. Your breathing has changed.” He poked her arm.

Do not touch me. Do not touch me. Do not touch me.

He touched her again, his hand moving down her arm before coming to rest on her hip. “You have the kind of shape I like, something to hang on to. I do not like reed thin lassies who lack any soft flesh.” He squeezed her hip and she bucked despite herself.

He was touching her; she had to get away. Her eyes flew open and she searched the chamber for anything she could use as a weapon. There was naught. She did her best to yell with the gag in her mouth, but no sound came out. His hand came up to squeeze her breast, and she jerked, trying to pull away from him, but he held on tight.

“Verra nice tits.”

His smirk made her want to vomit, and her breath started to come out in anxious pants because she was losing control. She had to deal with this. Had to. Closing her eyes, she thought of Magnus and how tender and protective his touch had been in Buchan’s solar. Her breathing slowed, and her mind felt sharper, clearer. Suddenly, an idea came to her.

She swung her knee up as hard as she could and caught her captor square in his ballocks.

He grabbed his male parts and bent over at the waist, yelling, “You bitch. I’ll kill you for that.”

The sound of running footsteps met her ears right before the door crashed open. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Magnus, wonderful Magnus, with a fury on his face that told her what he would do next. He drove his blade into the fool’s belly. Magnus moved him out of the way and cleaned his sword off before he crouched down over Ashlyn.

“Ash, are you all right?”

She nodded, for the gag was still in her mouth. Magnus pulled it out, and when she held her hands out to him, he untied her, all the time saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry but I have to touch you.” He was so careful that it brought tears to her eyes. Once he finished untying her, he helped her to a sitting position. Then he held his arms out in front of him, clearly unsure of himself. “I know. You do not like to be touched, but I had no choice, ‘twas the only way to untie you. My apologies, lass.”

She did the last thing either of them probably expected. She threw herself into those big arms again, wrapping her arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder, just as she’d done at the ravine. “My thanks for coming for me. They were to take me…” her breath hitched, “…to Chief Dubh to be his wench.”

“Hush. It can wait. Did he hurt you in any way?”

He held her close, and she didn’t want to let go, taking in his scent, his warmth, his protectiveness. “Nay.”

“Then we need to get out of here.” He tugged her behind him and led the way into the corridor of what appeared to be a small manor home. “I have no idea where Tormod is,” Magnus whispered to her. “I saw him go down, but he was not in the chamber with me below stairs.”

“I heard them speak of only one prisoner,” Ashlyn said, frowning. They glanced into each of the chambers they passed, but Tormod was nowhere to be found.

Ashlyn reached out and took Magnus’s hand. “Since we have not seen him, we should leave and search the area to see if he is lying hurt somewhere.” Though she had intended to release his hand, she found she did not wish to let go.

Magnus led her out the back door of the building, and they headed back to the center of the burgh, both of them watching for any observers or enemies. As they made their way toward the inns, Magnus stopped in his tracks to survey his surroundings. “Did you hear that? It almost sounded as if someone had called my name.”

“Nay. Magnus, how long was I out?” she asked, looking up at the dark sky. “He knocked me over the head. What time is it?”

Magnus tugged her close to him, not willing to let go of her hand, and she found she was quite fine with that. “I do not know. They hit me over the head, also.” They did not see anyone they knew. “I’m sure we are too late to meet the others at the inn in the center. But it cannot be too late. The crowd has thinned, but there are still many around.”

Someone bellowed his name loud enough for them to both hear, and they jerked around in time to see Jamie, Braden, and Tormod headed their way.

Jamie reached them first. “What happened? Tormod said he was hit over the head.”

“The same happened to us,” Magnus replied, “but Ashlyn and I were kept in separate chambers inside a manor home not far from here.”

Braden snorted. “Any survivors?”

Magnus’s trademark grin returned to his face. “Nay. Or mayhap I just knocked the younger one out. The leader did not survive.” He glanced at Tormod, who looked a little peaked. “You are hale?”

“I’ll be fine. The head aches a wee bit, but it could be worse. I had no idea where you two disappeared to when I came around an hour or so later.”

“We learned naught,” Jamie said. “Were the lads who took you working for MacNiven?”

“Aye, they plan to be his guards. They called him Chief Dubh, so it must be MacNiven. They were going to meet him at the crossroads on the morrow, hoping to get hired.” Ashlyn said, “but I do not think we should discuss it here.” She glanced over her shoulder, afraid there might be other lads looking to steal young lasses. Braden and Tormod both looked shocked, but they said naught.

“I agree,” Jamie said. “We are late for our meeting with Uncle Logan, and if we arrive too late, he will send more after us. We should return to the royal keep.”

They trekked back to the royal castle and met the others inside the gates. Uncle Logan hurried over to them. His voice low and insistent, he called out, “Where the devil have you been? I was about to send a search party out for you.”

“Half our team ran into some trouble, but all will be fine by the morrow.”

Aunt Gwyneth perused the group, stopping when she reached Ashlyn’s. “Not so sure about that. Judging by the number of bruises I see, I think there will be a few headaches by morn. My beautiful niece still has a bit of a black eye from a fist, and now she sports a bump on her head. Logan, let’s return to our private chambers and get some refreshments for the three who need it.” She wrapped her arm around Ashlyn and hugged her tight.

Once they were inside with some refreshments, Logan closed the door and said, “I hope you have information, because we learned naught.”

All eyes turned to Jamie, but he nodded toward Ashlyn. “The only one who learned much is Ashlyn, though Tormod heard something similar. Go ahead. Tell us all.”

“Two men hit me over the head and tied me up,” Ashlyn began. “When I awakened, the two discussed their plan. According to them, Chief Dubh, whom they described as a man known for wearing a helm or a mask, will be hiring many guards for plenty of coin. They plan to meet him at some crossroads on the morrow, or if not him, some representative of his. They have no idea what his true identity is, nor do they know his purpose.”

“And you? Why did they take you?”

“They think that offering him a wench will give them a better chance at getting hired as his guards.”

Magnus coughed, a catch in his throat. “A wench? They called you a wench?” She could see his hands fisted at his sides, flexing as he spoke.

“I suspect they’ll not be saying it again, will they, Magnus?” Uncle Logan smirked as he glanced from Magnus to Aunt Gwyneth.

Magnus paced in a circle. “Nay.”

Logan grinned. “Gwynie, you look as though you are still twenty and four. We could plant you as a wench, see where they take you.”

“Logan, you have too many ideas,” his wife said, rolling her eyes. “I think we all need rest. We did not get much sleep last night. Can we not go to our rooms? There’s naught more to do this eve.” She settled her hand on Ashlyn’s shoulder, and the touch gave her a sense of comfort. That was happening more and more these days, she realized.

Ashlyn missed her mother and Gracie, and even her stepsire and her brothers. Mayhap Gracie had been right about regretting this journey. Why had she insisted on coming here? Her head pounded more than she wished to admit. She reached up to hold the side of her head to stop the vibrations that seemed to go through her. Uncle Logan glanced at her and his gaze narrowed, so she dropped her hand, not wanting to upset him.