Medieval Ever After (124 page)

Daniel reached for the hilt of his sword at his hip, but Garrick shook his head silently. He slowly drew back the nocked arrow to his cheek and trained it on the dark figure a dozen yards ahead of them on the battlement.

Garrick exhaled almost inaudibly, and the arrow flew with a faint whirring noise. A fraction of a second later, it thunked into its target. Daniel sprang to his feet and bolted past Garrick toward the guard.

The guard jerked as the arrow sank into his neck, then made a gurgling noise and began to list to one side. Just before he would have toppled more than a dozen feet into the courtyard below with a clatter, Daniel grabbed hold of one limp arm and pulled him back onto the battlement.

As quietly as possible, he eased the guard down onto the stone battlement, pushing his already-lifeless body into the shadows as much as possible. A moment later, Garrick, Burke, and Robert crept to his side. Exchanging a quick nod, they continued silently along the battlement toward the guard tower.

The tower was dark and empty. Daniel frowned. They had seen one guard on the wall earlier, and another one who’d taken Garrick’s arrow. But those two guards could have actually been the same person. The rest of the battlement and the castle itself remained quiet and still.

Something was wrong. Where were all the guards? And why was it so damned quiet? Robert poked his head out both sides of the guard tower, confirming for Daniel that he too sensed something was off.

Daniel itched to draw his sword, but he feared that if the guards and the rest of the castle’s men-at-arms lay waiting somewhere, any glint off his blade would give their position away.

Even more on edge than before, they made their way to the stairs leading from the tower to the inner yard. Whether or not they were walking into a trap, they had to keep going. Daniel would never turn back now, not this close to Rona. Nor would his brothers and cousin flee, trap or nay.

The yard was quiet and empty, just as the battlements had been. Thanks to Jossalyn’s instructions to approach from the north, they only had a few paces to cover in the open before they reached the tower keep. One by one, they crossed the distance between the curtain wall and the tower, pressing themselves against the tower’s rounded stone exterior. Then they slid around to the south side where Jossalyn told them the keep’s door lay.

When they reached the large wooden double doors leading into the keep, Garrick fully drew back the arrow he had nocked in his bow. Finally, Daniel could draw his sword. He gripped the hilt at his hip and unsheathed the blade, feeling instantly calmer with the weapon in his hand. The faint hiss of Robert’s and Burke’s swords coming from their sheaths echoed his. If a trap had been laid for them, it had to be inside the tower, for the rest of the castle appeared empty.

With a quick nod to the others, Daniel took a deep breath. Then he sent one booted foot into the keep’s doors, kicking them open. He leveled his sword at the gaping, dark opening, bracing himself for an attack.

The doors banged loudly against the stone walls, the noise echoing through the castle’s great hall. No sea of soldiers poured forth. No cry of attack filled the silence. The hall was empty and dark.

“I don’t like this,” Garrick whispered as he swept his aim through the dark hall from the doorway.

Cautiously, Burke treaded through the open doors and sidestepped toward one of the hall’s walls. Daniel could barely make out his shadowy figure as he reached for something on the wall. A moment later, a spark flickered in the darkness. Burke’s crouched figure was illuminated once, then twice as he struck a flint over a candle he’d removed from an iron candleholder on the wall. With a third strike of his flint, the tallow candle’s wick caught, sending a steady glow throughout the hall.

Sure enough, the hall was empty. The trestle tables and benches were pushed to the walls, and the hearth at the far end didn’t smolder or smoke even faintly.

“Where’s the trap?” Robert said, stepping into the hall. Daniel and Garrick followed, though Garrick walked through the doorway backward, keeping the tip of his arrow pointed toward the yard in case they were set upon from behind.

Daniel shook his head in confusion. Despite the eerie silence surrounding them, he felt a presence in the castle. What was Warren up to?

“We should check the dungeon,” Daniel said, though he was beginning to fear that Rona wouldn’t be there.

Had his impression that he was drawing closer to her been faulty? His instincts were screaming at him that something was off, but all they could do was keep looking for her and pray that they hadn’t all been horribly deceived.

Burke led the way toward the stairs at the back of the great hall, sword in one hand and raised candle in the other. Daniel, Robert, and Garrick trailed after him, each bracing for a surprise attack from all directions.

The stairs wound down and down, far below ground. The air, already night-cool, grew markedly colder as they descended. The stairs finally ended at a single wooden door, which stood ajar.

Burke pushed the heavy door open with one boot, but all was still. The door squeaked loudly, revealing its infrequent use. Why would such a rarely used door be left open so carelessly?

As they filed through the door and Burke’s candle illuminated the dungeon, Daniel caught sight of several cells stretching out. One cell door stood open.

He pushed past Burke hastily and yanked the cell door wide. The light from the candle threw shifting shadows against the cell’s stone walls as Burke came up behind him.

The cell was empty.

“Bloody hell, what’s going on?” Daniel snapped. “Where is she?”

Robert came to his side.

“Warren must have moved her, along with his entire army,” Robert said levelly, though Daniel didn’t miss the bitterness lacing his voice.

“Then why leave one guard on the curtain wall for us to pick off?” Garrick said, a frown creasing his brow.

“A decoy? Or perhaps a thin attempt to cover his absence?” Burke replied.

“Nay,” Daniel breathed, sheathing his sword and turning his back on the others to stare at the cell walls. “Nay, this can’t be it. We can’t fail.”

“It’s not over yet, little brother,” Robert said quietly behind him.

“We’ll do a sweep of the tower, and once the sun has risen, we’ll check the ground surrounding the main gate for signs of movement. Warren can’t mobilize an entire army without leaving a trace,” Garrick added.

Daniel nodded, but his stomach sank to the floor. Could his sense that Rona was near be wrong? Could Warren have outmaneuvered the combined strategic abilities of all four of them?

He took a deep breath and shoved his thoughts aside. He drew his sword once more. They had work to do. No matter where Rona was, no matter how far away Warren had taken her, he would find her. And kill Warren.

He strode out of the cell and back to the stairs, his brothers and cousin following him. When they reached the great hall, they continued upward, winding their way to the private chambers abovestairs. Each time they came upon a door leading off the stairwell, they’d shove it open, weapons at the ready. But every time, they were only met with dark, empty chambers.

They had nearly swept the entire tower when Daniel noticed a faint glow of light coming from farther up the spiraling stairwell. He threw up a hand to halt the others, who instantly tensed. Motioning toward the light ahead, Daniel crept up the stairs, his sword raised.

At the very top of the tower stairs stood one door. Faint light spilled around the doorframe. As the four of them took their positions around the door, Daniel shot them each a quick nod. With all his might, he kicked the door. He heard a groan and a splintering noise as the door swung open, but as he stepped inside, he froze.

Warm candlelight filled the chamber, making him squint. Nevertheless, his eyes were instantly drawn to the center of the room, where Rona stood before him.

With a knife at her throat.

HIGHLANDER’S RECKONING

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Rona jumped and
nearly screamed when the chamber door burst open. But when she saw Daniel, raised sword in his hands, she nearly crumpled to the floor with a mixture of joy and dread.

The only thing that kept her on her feet and rooted in place was Warren’s dagger against her throat.

Warren stood behind her, using her as a shield against Daniel. He held the dagger to her neck tightly enough that her body was flush against his and her head was tilted back slightly.

They had been standing like this for more than an hour. It seemed like ages ago that Warren had stormed into her cell and yanked her painfully up the stairs to his bedchamber, but it had only been a few hours earlier in the night.

At first, she thought she was on her way to ransom negotiations with Daniel. If she’d kept her count accurately, it had been five nights and four days since she’d been taken in the Galloway woods, and a day and a half since Warren had visited her in the dungeon to take a lock of her hair. The timing would be tight, but it was possible that Warren’s ransom note had already reached Daniel, and that they’d agreed to meet for an exchange or to discuss the terms.

But when Warren had continued up the spiral staircase past the great hall, dread had begun to fill her. When he opened the door to his bedchamber and she’d met the sight of his enormous four-poster bed, which dominated the room, she’d struggled wildly against his grip on her arms.

He’d struck her hard enough that she’d fallen to the ground, and he kicked her a few times to ensure her submission.

“I’ll not fuck a Highlander’s used whore,” Warren had said with a sneer at her. At least she was safe from that.

He’d made her stand in the middle of the room while he gave a flurry of orders to several different men just on the other side of the door. Then she knew what Warren had planned for Daniel and Loch Doon. Selfishly, she longed for him to arrive, to take her away from this nightmare. But if he arrived, as Warren was counting on, Daniel would be walking right into Warren’s trap.

The castle had grown quiet as the men departed. Then Warren had drawn the jewel-encrusted dagger at his waist and moved behind her, laying the cold blade against her neck. He seemed content to wait like that, never moving. But for her, a storm was breaking inside.

Her terror for Daniel blurred with the press of the dagger at her throat. In the last five days, she’d only had the crust of bread and waterskin Warren had given her. She trembled as she waited for Daniel, longing to see his handsome, strong face one more time before ruin befell them all.

And now here he was, his sword gleaming in the chamber’s candlelight, his face a mask of rage, and his body taut and ready to attack.

With a growl that sounded more animal than human, Daniel took a step forward, levelling his sword.

Suddenly the dagger pressed hard into Rona’s neck, and she struggled back from the blade, twisting her head as much as she could away from its sharp edge. A panicked scream rose in her throat. This was it. Warren was going to kill her now, in front of Daniel.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you,” Warren said behind her. She couldn’t see Warren’s face, but she could tell from his voice that he was sneering. “You’re hurting her.”

Daniel froze, his chest heaving with rage. He stretched his neck to try to get a clear look at Warren, but Warren shifted behind her so that Daniel couldn’t set his sights on him.