Highlander Unmasked (42 page)

Meg believed in Alex, completely and without reservation. He was the fiercest, most skilled warrior she’d ever seen. If Alex and Neil MacLeod could block the supplies and reinforcements from reaching the castle and create a diversion, victory would be theirs. And Alex would come home to her. They would begin their life together. It was that knowledge that held her together.

She pulled her
arisaidh
more firmly around her shoulders. The mist had descended like quicksand, swallowing everything in its ethereal hold. The salty wind was cold and damp as it blew across her nose and cheeks. At least it would help speed their journey. Now that they’d parted, Meg was anxious to return home. The sooner she was home, the sooner Alex would come to her.

After some time, Jamie broke the silence. “Are you all right?”

No.
There was a dull, empty space in her chest that would not be gone until Alex returned to Skye. But Jamie did not need to hear that. “I’ll be fine,” she said instead.

Jamie took her hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. “I would have done the same thing as Alex, Meg. It’s not safe for you to stay on Lewis.”

She managed a wobbly smile. “I know.”

They were quiet for a few more minutes before Jamie spoke again, this time to Robbie. “Look over there,” he said, pointing behind them.

She could tell by the agitation in his voice that something was wrong. She looked over her shoulder and noticed that a
birlinn
had suddenly appeared out of the mist and was rapidly closing the distance between them. A much larger, faster, more heavily manned
birlinn.

Immediately, she understood the reason for Jamie’s concern. Something about the way the boat pursued them set her already frayed nerves on edge. That reaction was exacerbated in the next few minutes as her clansmen made an initial attempt to evade the other boat, shifting directions—only to find that their pursuers had done likewise. No matter how fast they rowed, the other
birlinn
moved at a purposeful, almost menacing clip directly toward them.

A smattering of dark spots appeared out of the mist. In horror, Meg watched as dozens of arrows began to land with horrible precision in the water around them.

There could be no doubt.
They were being hunted. But by whom? Had the king’s men found them out? Would her father’s men be imprisoned? Dear God, what would happen to Robbie? If it was discovered that he was a MacGregor, he would be hanged. Meg’s heart stalled. They couldn’t be caught.

Another spray of arrows headed for them. Jamie’s hands on her shoulders forced her down. “For God’s sake, Meg—get your head down!”

Her heart pounded, but she didn’t have time to panic. In the sudden commotion of a shared purpose, every effort was put into trying to evade their pursuers. The endless blue vistas of shimmering sea suddenly seemed the enemy. There was nowhere to go. They could not outrow the other boat, and they were cut off from retreat back to Lewis.

Her men gave it a valiant effort, but in the end escape proved futile. They were simply outmanned. When an arrow landed with a thud in the back of one of her clansmen, Meg knew she had to put an end to it.

“Stop. There’s nothing we can do.”

Jamie turned to her. “We can try—”

“They’ll kill us all,” she said, shaking her head. At least this way we have a chance. Maybe they’ve made a mistake.”

He nodded and repeated her order for the men to hold their oars.

It seemed to take an eternity for the other boat to reach them. They waited in seeming unison of tense apprehension as it neared.

A grappling hook was tossed over the side of their
birlinn,
and slowly their boat was pulled alongside their attackers. Close enough to make out the occupants. Meg let out an audible sigh of relief. Not the king’s men. These men wore plaids. They were Highlanders. Perhaps it
was
only a terrible mistake.

Her relief, however, was short-lived. A chill ran down the back of her spine that turned her blood cold. She recognized one of the men.

No.
There was no mistake. They had indeed been hunted. At that moment, she almost wished for the king’s men. Because the man who’d captured them was none other than Dougal MacDonald. He stood at the helm with his arms crossed, a smug smile twisting his handsome features. The expression terrified her; she knew well what he was capable of.

He noticed Jamie, and his smugness quickly turned to anger. “What are you doing here, Campbell?”

“I would ask the same of you,” Jamie said, rising to stand. With the waves tossing their small boat around, he had to spread his feet to keep his balance. “My cousin will not be pleased to hear of your impertinence.”

Dougal flushed. “These men are rebels,” he said, indicating Robbie and Alex’s other men. When Alex’s men looked as though they wanted to protest with their swords, Meg shook her head. Dougal would only delight in the opportunity to kill them.

“These men are guarding a woman who is seeking to return home,” Jamie said. “Leave now, MacDonald, before you do something you will regret.”

Dougal stared at him, furious, as he considered what to do. Meg knew that Jamie’s presence had complicated things for him. Making war on the Highland rebels was one thing, capturing the cousin of the Earl of Argyll another. His eyes narrowed as he called Jamie’s bluff. “I think it is you who should reconsider, young Campbell. I have been authorized by the king to detain all rebels. If you oppose me, you are opposing the king. And I think your cousin would be surprised to see you with these men. Perhaps you’d care to turn them over to me instead?”

They were trapped. By bringing Jamie along, Meg had put him in a horrible position. She took his arm, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry, Jamie. There is no use in opposing him. It will only make things worse for you.”

Jamie knew he was caught, but he wouldn’t give up. “Mistress Mackinnon is not a part of this,” he said. “Do you use a woman to win your battles now, MacDonald?”

Dougal shrugged, refusing to be shamed. “It is regrettable, but I will do what is necessary. The lass will be my trump card. The king will not care how the rebels are defeated, just that they are. Besides, the king will hardly concern himself in a matter between a man and his
wife
.”

Meg gasped. “Never!” She would die before she married Dougal MacDonald.

Robbie and Jamie moved to protect her at the same time, using their bodies to shield her from Dougal’s vile glare.

Dougal’s face darkened. “Have care, Mistress Mackinnon. I am prepared to forgive you much, but do not try my patience.” Meg shivered at the coldness in his eyes. “You do not want to anger me.”

“You bastard!” Jamie growled. “You will not involve her.”

Dougal’s amusement fled, turning to annoyance. “You are hardly in a position to be issuing orders. I will do what I must. Alex MacLeod has proved exceedingly difficult to kill. If need be, Mistress Mackinnon will prove an irresistible lure.”

Meg’s heart sank.
No.
She could not be the instrument of Alex’s destruction.
Dear God, what had she

done?
She should never have come here.

“What are you planning to do with us?” she challenged, refusing to cower before such filth. She might be terrified, but she knew if Dougal sensed her fear, it would be like the scent of blood to a vulture.

Dougal sneered at her bravado. “I’d say that all depends on you, my dear.”

Meg quickly learned what Dougal meant. He would have killed Robbie and the other men when they’d landed back on Lewis, but he spared their lives at the last minute when Meg agreed to marry him. As long as she did what he wanted, the men were safe.

Dougal MacDonald repulsed her; the very idea of marriage to him was repugnant. They both knew she’d agreed only under duress, but Meg suspected that Dougal enjoyed toying with her. Taking sadistic pleasure in manipulating her to his bidding, in watching her panic as he’d held the blade to Robbie’s neck, in making sure she knew that she was his prisoner and that he was in control. Meg thought of Alex’s imprisonment all those years ago in a MacDonald dungeon at the hand of this man and couldn’t imagine what he’d been forced to endure.

It gave her insight into the rage that drove Alex. Dougal MacDonald was a man to inspire vengeance. Anger could be a great motivator, as Meg had learned. It was anger that had propelled her over miles of rugged terrain without complaint.

They’d camped last night in the woods well south of Stornoway. Meg had been too frightened and anxious to sleep, though she soon wished she had. Today had been a nightmare. They’d walked for hours, skirting well clear of the MacLeods as they headed north just past Stornoway to a rocky ridge above the northernmost section of the harbor. They’d stopped, finally, but it would not be for long.

Since their capture, Dougal had kept her separated from the others and well guarded, leaving her no opportunity to escape. He knew as well as she did that even if Jamie or the others could have escaped, they would not leave her behind.

Sitting on a rock, resting her aching feet, Meg wanted to weep with exhaustion and frustration. She swept a strand of hair from her face, feeling the dirt and grime of the long day sitting on her skin. But she knew that it would get much worse before this day was done.

As soon as Alex appeared below, Dougal would make his move. Using her.

Meg would never have told Dougal anything that might put Alex in jeopardy. And he must have guessed as much, because he focused his persuasion on Jamie—this time using her as the pawn. Meg begged Jamie not to say anything. Dougal wouldn’t kill her, not until he’d married her. But when he’d held the blade to her throat, Jamie had told him what he knew—which, thankfully, wasn’t much. She was glad that they were not privy to all of Alex’s plans. Though when Dougal realized he’d lost his attempt to take Alex at sea, it had forced him to use her as his sword.

By coming to Lewis, Meg had unintentionally given Dougal the very opportunity he’d been waiting for. Meg knew as well as he did what had happened to Alex’s cousins and how much Alex blamed himself for their deaths. Dougal would give Alex another chance to surrender, this time with her as his bait.

She would be the cause of Alex’s death. For even if Alex surrendered, thereby saving her life, Dougal no doubt intended to kill him. Alex would know that, too, but it wouldn’t stop him. And it wasn’t just Alex’s life at stake. If Alex didn’t do his part, Neil MacLeod would be walking into a death trap at the castle.

Because of her, the entire rebellion could fail.

Chapter 25

Alex and his warriors approached Stornoway harbor from the south, keeping as close to the tree line as possible to avoid detection. As they neared the crags bordering the northernmost section of the inner harbor, he signaled for his men to halt and ready themselves for battle. From this vantage point, he had a direct line of sight to the sea-gate of Stornoway Castle and of the harbor below it.

He kept vigilant watch of his surroundings, wary not only of an attack, but also of keeping an eye out for the return of Robbie and the other men he’d sent with Meg. They should be back at any time, and he would need them. There was no cause for concern…yet. But all the same, Alex would be relieved when they returned and confirmed that Meg was safely ensconced at Dunakin.

Meg. God, how he missed her. Her coming to him on Lewis had changed so much. With no secrets left between them, the distraction that had plagued him since he’d departed Edinburgh had lifted. Now he could focus his full attention on the battle, knowing that the woman he loved was waiting for him.

When his work was done.

The battle he’d been waiting for was finally upon him. Justice would be theirs. For his kin. Both living and dead.

He felt excitement rushing through his blood as it always did before a fight. This was when he was at his best, when clarity of thought and unity of purpose drowned out everything else around him. The challenge invigorated him. Each battle was a test not just of strength, but of strategy and cunning. Of courage and of honor.

Today was the culmination of years of training and months of preparation. Their plan was simple, as the best usually were. Simplicity minimized the opportunities for something to go wrong. But timing was everything.

It was a three-pronged attack. At sea, trying to capture the supply ship, as they’d originally intended, would take too many men. They knew this now because of the information Meg had brought them. Instead, they hoped to delay it—and eventually, if they were successful, prevent the ship from landing at all.

Two
birlinns
of sixteen MacLeod clansmen stood ready just offshore, awaiting his signal to attack the supply ship as it entered the outer harbor. Alex’s guardsman Patrick MacGregor would do his best to keep the ship busy while the land phase of their attack began. Except for his brother, there was no man Alex trusted more than the fearsome MacGregor.

Alex had handpicked a small force of men that he would lead in the attack against the castle guards coming out to meet the ships. They would be outnumbered, but it was nothing they hadn’t faced before. At the same time, Neil and his men would lay siege to the castle, hoping to hit it hard when it was not as heavily defended. In doing so, Neil would be leaving his flank vulnerable. If anything went wrong, and the guardsmen were able to return to the castle too soon or with more men, Neil and his men would be trapped. To complicate matters, they also had to watch for Dougal trying to outflank Patrick at sea.