The Sinner (24 page)

I
t’s our chieftain’s ship,” Alex called out to his men.

When he ran down to the shore to meet it, Glynis picked up her skirts and followed with all the others. She reached the beach in time to see Connor climb down from the galley, followed closely by Ian and Duncan.

“What’s happened?” Alex asked after thumping his old friends on the back. “Ye wouldn’t bring so many warriors from Skye for just a friendly visit.”

“We can’t wait any longer to deal with my vile uncles,” Connor said.

“What have they done now?” Alex asked.

“Angus and Torquil were guests at Banranald’s home while he was away,” Connor said. “And Angus tried to rape Banranald’s wife.”

“Banranald’s is not far from here,” Alex said. “How did ye hear before I did?”

“The wife Angus tried to rape is a Clanranald, like our mothers,” Ian said, taking over the story. “She fled to her Clanranald kin, and their chieftain sent an official emissary to Connor at once demanding justice.”

Glynis could not help interrupting the men to ask, “Magnus Clanranald has stirred himself over an offense against one of his clanswomen?”

“The Clanranalds removed Magnus from the chieftainship,” Duncan told her. “They went so far as to ban his line from the chieftainship forever.”

Glynis had never heard of such a thing—but if anyone merited such treatment, it was Magnus.

“So who is their new chieftain?” Alex asked.

“That is the one piece of good news,” Connor said. “The chieftainship fell to our mothers’ cousin and your namesake, Alexander. As ye know, he’s a good man. He wants both Angus and Torquil delivered to him for punishment—and I want Hugh. They’ll be together.”

“While we search the outer isles,” Ian said, “the Clanranalds are looking for them in the isles to the south and east.”

“I haven’t seen your uncles’ ships,” Alex said. “Have ye heard where we might find them?”

No one answered, but Duncan, Connor, and Ian all avoided looking at Glynis.

“Barra?” Glynis asked, her heart slamming against her chest. “They’re going to Barra?”

“We don’t know that for certain,” Connor said. “But we have heard rumors that my uncles are planning a big raid on the MacNeils with both their ships.”

“Your father will need our help,” Alex said, touching Glynis’s arm, before he turned to the others. “My men will be ready to sail in a quarter of an hour.”

After shouting orders to his men, Alex took Glynis by the arm and led her up the beach a short distance away from the others.

“It’s too dangerous for ye to go to your father’s just now,” he said. “And I need ye here while I’m gone.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll leave half my men here to protect you and the castle. With the pirates sailing toward Barra, that should be sufficient,” Alex said, but he looked uneasy.

“We’ll be fine,” Glynis assured him. “But ye must save my brother and my sisters. The girls are delicate. They can’t—”

“Shh, don’t fret,” Alex said, and touched her cheek. “I won’t let anything happen to them.”

“I’m so grateful to ye for going to them.”

Even though she was leaving him, Alex was honoring the bond he had made to protect her family and her clan. Glynis hated to have him sailing off into danger with things so wrong between them. As he left her to rejoin the other men, she remembered that she was wearing the silver medallion. She had put it on when she dressed, to comfort herself.

“Wait!” she called after him. “I have something for ye.”

She ran to where he stood at the water’s edge and stretched up on her toes to put the chain around his neck.

“It’s of Saint Michael, God’s warrior angel,” she said, holding the medallion up for him to see. “He’s supposed to give special protection to both horsemen and sailors.”

“Ah, Glynis, that’s sweet of ye,” Alex said and put it inside his shirt, next to his heart. “But there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Be safe,” she said, as she rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. When Alex’s arms came around her, she rested her head against his shoulder. She felt his chest rise and fall in a deep breath, then he kissed her hair.

She loved him so much.

Alex released her as Sorcha came running down to the beach, her hair flying out behind her. When she flung herself at Alex at full speed, he lifted her in his arms.

“I must go chase some pirates,” Alex said to her, making it sound like an adventure—which he probably thought it was. “But your mother will be here to look after ye.”

He kissed Sorcha and handed her to Glynis. Then he took his shield and his claymore from Seamus, who had carried them down to the shore. By now, the entire household had assembled on the beach, and Alex chose which men would go and which would stay.

As Alex’s ship set sail behind the other war galley, he stood at the rudder, his hair whipping in the wind. He waved his sword at them, looking like a Viking king.

Glynis held Sorcha’s hand and watched until Alex’s boat disappeared over the horizon. When she finally turned away, the only one left on the beach besides her and Sorcha was Seamus.

“Seamus, will ye take Sorcha up to Bessie at the castle for me?” Glynis asked.

She should have been brave enough to do this before. As soon as the two children were gone, Glynis found the path that led to the cottage where she had seen Alex take the flowers that awful day. Sweat broke out on her palms as Glynis remembered sitting in the tall grass with her head between her knees trying to get her breath back. But she had to find the truth.

When she reached the ancient cottage with the sagging roof, Glynis knocked before she could lose her nerve. No one answered for so long that she thought no one was home. But then the door finally creaked open, and Ùna stood in the doorway.

Ach, she was a lovely lass.

“I saw the ship sail,” Ùna said. “Is he gone?”

“My husband?” Glynis was surprised at the lass’s willingness to speak about Alex to her. “Aye, he’s gone.”

Ùna bit her lip and dropped her gaze to the ground. In a voice barely above a whisper, she asked, “Did he ask ye to come?”

“Why would he do that?”

Ùna looked up, her eyes wide. “So he didn’t tell ye about me?”

Glynis was about to ask why in the name of all that was holy did Ùna find it surprising that her lover had not told his wife about her…but nothing was fitting. The lass’s demeanor was all wrong.

“He said he wouldn’t tell,” Ùna said, dropping her gaze again. “I should have trusted him.”

“Perhaps we both should have.”
O shluagh, what have I done?
“Let me come in, and we’ll have a talk.”

Glynis was persistent, and before long, she got the whole tragic story out of the lass. As Ùna wept on her shoulder, Glynis felt a murderous rage against the man who called himself a father and committed unpardonable sins against this poor lass.

“Why did Alex not tell me?” she said under her breath.

“He kept telling me how good ye would be with me,” Ùna said. “But I made him promise not to tell ye because I was afraid.”

“You and Seamus will move into the castle today,” Glynis said, as she rubbed Ùna’s back. “Your father has been gone long enough, and with so many of our warriors off, it’s safer for ye there.”

Alex should have told her all about this. Ùna seemed so fragile, however, that Glynis could understand that he may have been afraid to add to her distress. And he had given his word to Ùna. As she was learning, he was a man who kept his promises.

But Glynis knew those were not the only reasons Alex had not told her. Her husband had wanted her to believe in him, to trust him without needing proof.

And she had failed him.

Three days later, Glynis and Sorcha were again on the beach below the castle. The wind was sharp enough to sting her face, but Glynis felt closer to Alex with just the sea between them.

“Your father will be home before long,” Glynis said, putting her hand on Sorcha’s shoulder. “All will be well with our family then.”

Sorcha’s face lit up like the sun breaking through the clouds. Although Glynis had never told Sorcha about her plan to leave Alex, the child had sensed the tension between them.

A short time later, Sorcha squatted beside a tide pool and, bouncing with excitement, waved Glynis over. Glynis was leaning over and squinting at the spiny sea urchin that Sorcha was pointing at when the castle bell began to ring.

Gong. Gong. Gong.

Glynis’s heart went to her throat. The bell was reserved as a warning for danger. When Glynis looked up at the castle, several of the men were shouting at her from the wall and pointing out to sea. She turned and saw a ship coming around the headland into the bay.

“Run!” She grabbed Sorcha’s hand, and they flew across the beach to the path.

Gong. Gong. Gong.
The bell’s toll echoed off the hills and vibrated through Glynis’s bones. She had seen that ship before. But where?

As they scrambled up the steps carved into the rock beneath the castle, Glynis glanced at the horizon. Fear jolted through her limbs. There were three sails now.

“Faster, Sorcha!”

A guard ran out the gate to carry Sorcha the last few yards. As soon as they passed through it, others slammed the gate behind them. Inside, men were rushing to fetch weapons from the armory. Bessie was waiting for them and took Sorcha from the guard.

“Take her inside the keep,” Glynis said to Bessie. Then she saw Tormond, the man Alex had left in command, hurrying toward her. He was a man of fifty with bulging biceps and iron-gray hair.

“Do ye recognize the ships?” Glynis asked him.

“Two of them belong to the MacDonald pirates,” Tormond said.

So it was Hugh MacDonald’s ship she had recognized from the time he had attacked Barra while Alex and Duncan were there.

“I have my suspicions about the third,” Tormond said. “I was hoping ye could take a closer look at it.”

“Me?”

Glynis could not imagine there was a ship she would know better than he, but she climbed up onto the wall with him. The three ships were much closer now. She held her hand up to shade her eyes—and gasped.

“Aye, I know that ship.” Glynis could not mistake the distinctive red dragon painted on the sail. “It is Magnus Clanranald’s.”

A
lex says ye have both courage and good sense so I’ll give ye the plain truth,” Tormond said. “They’ll have fifty men on each of those ships. It will be a miracle if we can hold the castle.”

“God help us,” Glynis said and crossed herself.

“Since we are clansman of the MacDonald pirates, I expect they’ll let us live, though they’ll strip the castle bare.” Tormond paused. “But they don’t respect womenfolk. They’ve raped their own clanswomen before.”

“I’ll send the women into the hills,” Glynis said.

“We’ll hold them off as long as we can.” Tormond touched her arm, an unexpectedly gentle gesture from the crusty man. “Alex warned us that Magnus is a special danger to ye, so take the child and hide yourself well.”

Glynis found most of the women gathered in the hall with Bessie and Sorcha. She counted them and came up two short.

“Everyone follow Bessie out the back!” Glynis shouted. “Ye must all run to the hills and hide as quick as ye can. Now hurry!”

“What about you, mistress?” Bessie asked.

“I’ll follow as soon as I’ve found the others,” Glynis said, pushing at Bessie’s back. “Go! Go!”

Glynis ran from room to room shouting. She finally found the two missing serving women hiding under a table in the kitchen and sent them to join the others.

Oh, God, she had forgotten about Ùna and Seamus. She could not let the pirates get their hands on poor Ùna. Glynis picked up her skirts and ran out of the keep, hoping to find them in the stables. Arrows fell around her as she ran across the bailey yard.

Seamus saw her coming and stood in the open doorway to the stable, waving her inside. Fortunately, Ùna was right behind him.

“Ye must come with me out the back,” Glynis said, grabbing Seamus’s hand. “Now hurry!”

The small door that led to the fields was hanging open. As they ran toward it, Glynis looked up and saw men fighting on top of the wall.

She shoved Ùna and Seamus out ahead of her and screamed at them, “Run as fast as ye can and hide!”

When Glynis ducked through the doorway behind them, she saw the women and children she’d sent out earlier scattered over the hills running for their lives. But one woman had turned around and was running back toward the castle.

By the saints, it was Bessie! Glynis ran out to meet her in the field. When she reached Bessie, they were both gasping for air.

“Sorcha isn’t with ye?” Bessie asked.

“I sent her with you.” Fear ran down Glynis’s limbs. “What happened?”

“I’m so sorry, mistress,” Bessie said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I was taking the other women, like ye told me to, but Sorcha wanted to come with you. I thought ye were just upstairs, and she couldn’t miss ye. But after I came out, I started to worry, so I watched for ye.”

“I’ll find her,” Glynis said. When Bessie hesitated, Glynis pushed her. “I can’t be worrying about you as well, so go!”

When Glynis reentered the castle, she was met by the sounds of battle—the clank of swords on the top of the walls and the steady pounding of a battering ram reverberating against the front gate.
Bang, bang, bang.

“Sorcha, Sorcha!” she called, as she ran through the keep, pausing to look behind doors and under benches and tables.

Where was the child?
God, please, I must find her.

Glynis ran up the stairs. If Sorcha was hiding somewhere else in the castle, Glynis was losing precious time. The shouts of men fighting came in through the windows as she ran by them. The sounds were far too close—some of the attackers must have made it over the wall and into the castle yard.

“Sorcha! It’s me, Glynis,” she called out, as she searched the bedchamber she shared with Alex. She snatched her dirk from the side table, then dropped to her knees to look under the bed. Sorcha was not there. Time was running out. As she got up, her gaze fell on the chest at the bottom of the bed.

She rushed to it and threw open the lid—and saw Sorcha’s shining head of hair. Her daughter was tucked into a ball with her head down, and she was shaking violently.

“Sorcha, love, I’m here,” Glynis said, resting her hand on her back.

The child looked up at her with Alex’s green eyes. Then she sprang to her feet and threw her arms around Glynis’s neck. Glynis held her tight.
Praise God
, she’d found her.

Glynis jumped at the sound of wood cracking. It was followed by a roar of voices. She rushed to the window, carrying Sorcha with her. Ach, no. Pirates had broken through the gate and were pouring into the castle yard below.

It was too late to escape.

The scene below was chaotic, with men shouting and swinging their claymores. Glynis could not tell who was winning—or even who was on which side.

And then she saw Magnus, and the breath went out of her.

He stood alone in the middle of the yard, ignoring the fighting that was going on all around him. His claymore was drawn and ready, but he stood still, scanning the castle grounds with his black eyes. A chill went through her.

Magnus was looking for her.

When his gaze turned toward them, Glynis jumped back into the shadows with Sorcha. As he started toward the keep with a determined stride, Glynis forced back the urge to run blindly. They were trapped with nowhere to go.

She had to think.
She must find a way to protect Sorcha.

“Ye found the best place in the whole castle to hide,” Glynis said, running her hand over the girl’s hair. “I’m going to put ye back inside the chest and cover ye up.”

Sorcha shook her head and dug her fingers into Glynis’s arms.

“Your da needs ye, so ye will do as I say and be a brave lass,” Glynis said in a firm voice. “No matter what ye hear, ye must not come out until these bad men are gone.”

Loud male voices sounded in the hall below.

“Ye
must
do this for me,” Glynis said, holding Sorcha’s face.

Glynis heard boots coming up the stairs and dropped the child into the chest. Her heart pounded in her ears as she flung off her cloak and laid it over Sorcha.

“I love ye,” she whispered, and closed the lid an instant before the door burst open.

When she turned, Magnus Clanranald filled the doorway.

“Glynis, my dear wife,” Magnus said, “ye have much to answer for.”