The Laird's Captive Wife (28 page)

‘Aye, you’d think he’d never heard a hunting horn or seen dogs before.’

‘All horses love the chase.’

‘That they do.’

‘They are not alone in that.’

His smile faded and for a moment his face grew serious. ‘Stay with the other women, Ashlynn. This is wild country, and you’re a stranger to it just now. It would be easy to get lost.’

‘I’ll do as you advise, my lord.’

He nodded. ‘The border lands can be dangerous. This is not a good place to be alone.’

Recalling their encounters on the way north she could see the reason for his caution. ‘Do you suppose there may be any danger?’

‘Not for a party this size,’ he replied.

‘That’s good to know.’ She threw him a mischievous grin. ‘I have no sword to hand this day.’

He returned the smile. ‘That’s as well for any robbers hereabouts. Not that I think there will be many of those. Your reputation will have frightened them off for sure.’

Ashlynn laughed. ‘Not
my
reputation, I think.’ Iain turned to Ban. ‘Did you know that your coaching had been so successful?’

‘How so, my lord?’

‘Did your sister not tell you that she single-handedly accounted for some very desperate villains?’

His brows drew together. ‘Ashlynn never mentioned anything of the sort.’

‘No? Well, she’s very modest, ye ken.’

‘So it would appear,’ said Ban. ‘Will you not bring me up to date on the subject, my lord?’

‘I’d be delighted.’

Ashlynn threw her husband an eloquent look which he noted with enjoyment and promptly ignored. Then he favoured his brother-in-law with a colourful account of what had happened on the way to Jedburgh. Ban listened with mounting shock and incredulity but underneath it all was pride.

‘You’re a dark horse, Ash,’ he said when the account was done at last.

Iain nodded solemnly. ‘That’s just what I said.’

‘I was lucky,’ she replied.

‘Even so.’ Ban grinned. ‘Remind me not to make you angry.’

‘She’s a terror when her dander’s up,’ Iain informed him.

‘You don’t have to tell me, my lord. I grew up with her.’

‘So you did. Was she always like it then?’

‘You wouldn’t believe the half of it.’

‘Really. You must fill me in on some of the detail I’ve missed.’

‘This is outrageous!’ Ashlynn stared at them in disbelief. ‘A conspiracy in fact.’

Iain’s enjoyment mounted. ‘Aye, lass, that’s right.’

‘In truth I don’t know which of you is worse. I think I shan’t stay to find out.’

With that she turned Steorra and rode back a way to join Jeannie, leaving the two men to their conversation.

* * *

It took about an hour to reach the glen where the lymer had found the deer. There the hunters deployed relays of hounds along the known tracks of the quarry. Ashlynn studied the wild and rugged terrain and understood why Iain had counselled caution. It would indeed be easy to lose oneself in this countryside. However, she had no intention of doing anything so foolish.

The lymer had done its work well and the other hounds picked up the scent very quickly and streamed away in full cry. Hearing the huntsman’s horn the riders followed as fast as the terrain would permit. The men on their bigger, more powerful mounts soon drew ahead. Knowing that the chase could be lengthy Ashlynn made no attempt to push the mare too hard at this stage. Her stamina might be needed later when they came to more open ground. With care they would both have strength enough to last the day. Mindful also of what Iain had said, Ashlynn kept close to the other women riders. Most of them would have ridden here before and some like Jeannie probably knew the ground well. It was only common sense to be guided by their knowledge and experience.

The trail led along the glen for some way, threading through heath and rock before turning off up the wooded hillside. For a while the pace was reasonably swift for the trees were big and widely spaced. However, as the quarry made for the denser thickets the pursuit became more challenging because the rider’s concentration was on the avoidance of low branches and slashing twigs. The pace slowed somewhat of necessity and Ashlynn took a swift look around. Just then the horn sounded some way off to the left and all the riders turned in that direction.

The hounds flushed the deer from the covert and made for open country. Here the relays would come into their own since, over distance, the hounds lacked the hart’s stamina. With fresh reinforcements however, the chances of catching up with the quarry were greatly increased.

The ride was exhilarating as Ashlynn had known it would be and she gave the horse a little more rein, revelling in the speed and the clean cold air on her face. Up ahead she could see Iain’s grey with the other leading horses and once she caught sight of Ban before his mount was swallowed up among the bays and chestnuts around him. She smiled to herself. Her brother was certainly fitter. The hunt would do him good in other ways too. Her thoughts were interrupted a few moments later as the foremost huntsmen disappeared into the cover of some trees.

It was at that point when, out of the corner of her eye, she became aware of other riders. A cursory glance revealed a group of about a dozen horsemen, approaching fast at an oblique angle. Curious, she took another, closer look. It seemed likely they were more of Iain’s men and certainly there was nothing to tell them apart, being clad in the same leather hunting costumes. However, something about them gave her pause. She frowned, knowing something wasn’t right but being unsure what. As the horsemen came on she realised it wasn’t their appearance that was amiss but their course, for it became increasingly clear that they weren’t following the main hunt; they were heading for the group in the rear. Now the leading body of huntsmen were in the trees the women riders were caught in the open and ripe to be cut off from the rest. Ashlynn felt the skin prickle on the back of her neck. A glance at her sister-in-law revealed she’d seen the horsemen too.

‘Who are they, Jeannie?’

‘I don’t know,’ she called back, ‘but I don’t like the look of them.’

‘Nor I.’

Some of the other ladies had noticed the oncoming riders now and were looking distinctly nervous. Jeannie shouted across to them, ‘Spread out and ride for the trees! Go!’

They needed no second bidding. Ashlynn bent low over Steorra’s neck and gave the mare her head. The chestnut leapt forward in response. Now more than ever she was glad she hadn’t pushed the horse before. Nearer and nearer came the thundering sound of pursuit. Another horrified glance revealed how much closer they were; she could see the riders’ faces set in lines of grim determination. In that second Ashlynn knew she wasn’t going to reach the shelter of the trees. It was too far. Their mounts were bigger and more powerful and, at each stride, closing the gap between. In desperation she shouted to Steorra, urging her on, but the little mare was already running flat out.

In helpless anger Ashlynn could only watch as a horseman swept alongside and seized her reins. She heard shouts and then both horses were pulled to a plunging halt. Moments later she was surrounded. Only then did she realise what it was that been eluding her: the costumes might have disguised their identity from a distance but the cropped hair marked them immediately as Normans. Wild-eyed she looked around and saw with rising horror that Jeannie had been taken too. The other women were unmolested and fast disappearing into the distance. Then a man’s voice broke into her consciousness and her stomach lurched as she recognised the speaker. De Vardes! For a second he favoured her with a gloating smile before turning his attention to her companion.

‘Tell McAlpin that if he wants his wife back he must win her in single combat.’

Jeannie’s face was pale but her dark eyes flashed fury. ‘Against whom?’

‘He’ll know.’

‘Where?’

‘The circle of standing stones beyond Glengarron. Tomorrow at dawn. He’s to come alone.’

‘No! Don’t do it!’ Ashlynn broke in. ‘Tell him to stay away!’

‘You’d better pray he doesn’t, my lady,’ replied De Vardes. ‘Otherwise we’ll return you to him a piece at a time.’ He looked back at Jeannie. ‘Just deliver the message.’

‘I’ll deliver it,’ she replied. ‘I’ll tell you something too: if you harm Lady Ashlynn there won’t be a corner of hell for you to hide in after.’

‘The lady will not be harmed, so long as McAlpin does as he’s told. However, any attempt to follow us now will result in me cutting her throat the moment we sight pursuit.’

With that he jerked his head at the man holding the reins of her palfrey. He relinquished his hold. Jeannie threw Ashlynn an eloquent anguished look and then reluctantly turned her horse and rode away towards the wood. For a moment De Vardes watched her go. Then he brought his mount alongside Ashlynn’s. Without a word he pulled the reins from her grasp and drew them over Steorra’s head. Then, he led her away.

* * *

Iain heard his sister in expressionless silence, his eyes like iced flint in the pallor of his face. Beside him Ban turned white. All around them the others fell silent too as they listened to the message, every countenance registering anger and disbelief.

‘He said you’d know your opponent,’ Jeannie went on. ‘What did he mean? Who is it, Iain?’

‘Fitzurse.’

‘Dear God, not he.’

‘The same.’

Ban shot him a piercing look. ‘Fitzurse! Was not he the man responsible for the destruction of Heslingfield?’

‘Aye, he was.’

‘You know him by more than repute, I think.’

‘Aye, I do, and but for circumstances I’d have slain him long since. But he’ll not escape again. This time I’ll rid this earth of him once and for all.’

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Dougal.

‘Meet him. What else?’

With that he turned his horse for home. For a moment they watched him go, then gathered their wits and set off in his wake, silent and grim-faced.

Iain rode mechanically, his mind elsewhere and his gut knotted with cold rage. Eight years rolled away, to another day and another hunt. Two women he had loved; two women taken from him by the same man. This time however, there was going to be a different outcome. He had once thought that he could never love again, a mistaken belief if ever there was one. It was a love hard earned but all he could see now was Ashlynn’s face. Eloise had been the glorious passion of his youth, a wonderful romantic dream whose beauty would remain with him always. This was different again, a love found in maturity, slower to grow but engendering a deep and lasting need, an emotion that engaged mind, body and spirit. His love for Ashlynn had made him whole again. With her image came the knowledge that this wasn’t just about settling an old score now, it was about his reason for living and his hopes of a future.

* * *

The swift pace brought them back to Glengarron an hour later. Within a very short time of their return everyone at Dark Mount knew what had happened and the atmosphere so cheerful before became brooding and angry. The insult to the laird was an insult to them all. However, it was Ban whom Jeanne watched now, not her brother. The young man’s face was so white it looked bloodless. Guessing only too well at the thoughts behind, she laid a gentle hand on his arm.

‘Have no fear,’ she said, ‘we’ll get her back.’

‘Aye, but alive or dead, my lady?’ he replied.

‘Fitzurse will not harm her,’ said Iain. ‘She’s too valuable to him alive. He means to use her to get to me.’

‘You canna believe he’ll meet you in single combat?’ said Dougal. ‘It’s a trap for sure.’

‘Of course it is, and yet I mean to make the bastard face me.’

‘How? You ride in alone and you’re dead.’

Iain shot him a piercing look. ‘Who said anything about going in alone?’

His lieutenant returned the look and held it. ‘You’ve got a plan.’

‘Aye. Have all the men come here to the hall. I need to talk to them.’

As Dougal hastened to obey, Ban stepped in. ‘I mean to do my part in this, my lord, whatever you decide upon.’

Iain nodded grimly. ‘You shall, good brother. I swear it.’

* * *

Ashlynn had no idea how long they travelled or of where they went, her mind being too full of dread for Iain. Recalling the day she and Ban had ridden out with Callum she guessed that it had been no deer on the hillside. Glengarron had been watched. Moreover, for the enemy to get so close argued that they had help, somewhere local to use as a base. A man like Iain had enemies. Had the Norman been able to exploit that? The more she thought about it the likelier it seemed.

Her captors rode until they came to a lonely grange. It was an imposing building and clearly the property of a man of some substance, but the grey stone walls and high arrow slit windows gave it a dour and forbidding aspect. The cavalcade clattered through an arched gateway and into the courtyard beyond. There Ashlynn was pulled off the horse and taken into the building. Thence she was led up a spiral stone staircase to the topmost floor and thrust into a small turret room. Then the door was slammed shut behind her and locked. Footsteps retreated down the stairs.

Trembling she massaged her bruised wrist and looked around. The room was cold and gloomy, the only light filtering in through one small window set high in the wall, and was devoid of all furnishing save for a thin straw pallet and, in one corner, a slop bucket. The narrow door was iron bound oak and had no handle on her side. There was to be no escape from her prison. For some time she paced the floor in helpless rage but eventually gave it up to sink disconsolately on to the straw pallet.

* * *

Some time later she heard more footsteps on the stairs and then the sound of a key in the lock. Ashlynn sprang to her feet and moved away toward the far wall. The door opened and then a man stepped into the room. Her heart leapt towards her throat. Fitzurse!

He surveyed her for a moment and then smiled faintly. ‘We meet again, my lady.’

He advanced a step or two and a second man followed him in. He was younger than Fitzurse by about ten years or so and shorter by a head. She had an impression of a stocky and slightly corpulent frame clad in a stained tunic. Lank and greasy brown hair hung about a stubbled face whose pale blue gaze was now fixed on their prisoner. Then he smiled, revealing stained teeth.