Valan grabbed hold and climbed over the battlement. He fell to his knees beside his precious lady and gathered her to his chest. “Thank God,” he rasped, tilting her face up to his. “I feared…I feared…” He couldn’t say the words aloud, but oh by God above, how he had feared he wouldn’t reach her in time.
When she reached to caress him, bringing her fingers close enough to see, his rage flared hotter.
Her graceful hands were cut and oozing blood. Her nails were ragged and broken. “They took Beitris,” she croaked, her voice spent from screaming. “They took her right before nightfall.”
“Who?” Although he already knew without hearing her answer. “William!” he bellowed, twisting to search the area for the young warrior.
William stood a short distance away, Beitris’s empty cage clutched between his hands. Eyes wild, he threw it against the wall. “Where is she?”
Lightning speared down in great, jagged spikes. Thunder rolled like boulders loosed upon the earth, ending in a deafening boom. It was as though the storm kept pace with William’s bloodlust.
Valan waved the enraged warrior closer.
William crouched beside them and leaned in, squinting against another strike of lightning.
“She said they took her,” Valan shouted as thunder followed. “Just before nightfall.”
“Euban has always lusted for Beitris,” Elspet cried out, blinking against the rain pelting her face. “Kill him.” She reached for William. When he leaned toward her, she knotted his tunic in her fist and shook it. “If ye ever felt anything for her, kill him and save her.”
“He will die,” William swore, the fury in his eyes raging harder than the storm. “It willna be quick, neither will it be merciful.”
“The cage for him, William.” Valan jerked his chin toward the battlement. “What say ye?”
“Aye.” William stood, unsheathed his sword, and pulled a battle axe free of the leather strapping he had crisscrossed between his shoulders. “Let us join Laird Maxwell’s celebration and invite him outside for a bit of air.”
Valan scooped Elspet up and held her close as he ran across the rooftop to the tower door. Once inside, he paused and leaned back against the wall. “I will take ye to the stable to hide while William and I find Beitris and settle with Euban.”
“I pray he hasna harmed her.” She lifted a trembling hand to her eye that was swelled shut. “I shouldha killed the bastard when I had the chance.”
“We shall tend to that chore gladly, m’lady.” He gentled a kiss to her temple, then turned his attention to William. “Gather the men whilst I take Elspet to safety.”
Jaw set in a hard line, William gave a jerking nod, then bolted down the steps.
Valan started down the staircase, carefully feeling for each step.
She sagged against him, nestling her face in the crook of his neck. “I knew ye would come,” she whispered.
“None of this shouldha ever happened.” He almost choked on the all-consuming rage. “Forgive me, dear one. I beg ye.”
She brushed a tender kiss to his throat and flattened her hand against his chest. “There is nothing to forgive, m’love. Nothing at all.”
Her battered state concerned him, but he knew her love for Beitris would strengthen her. Once inside the stable, warm, dry, and hidden in a back stall, she could rest until all was made right again.
Keeping to the shadows, he crossed the courtyard and slipped into the small area connected to the small forge the smithy used for smaller projects and shoeing animals. The place was deserted, but heat from the red, glowing coals filled the space. Valan chose the darkest corner loaded with clean straw. He eased her down into it, fetched the smithy’s heavy leather apron off the peg beside the forge, and draped it across her.
“Lovely warmth,” she whispered, smiling as she snuggled down into it.
“It pains me to leave ye.” He smoothed her wet hair back from her face, his hand lingering to touch her clammy cheek.
“It pains me to be so weak that I canna save my own daughter and kill Euban myself.” She covered his hand with hers and held it. “I know ye willna fail. That alone enables me to rest here and wait.”
“I love ye, Elspet.” Again, as when he had asked her to marry him, the words sprang from him unbidden. But this time they didn’t shock him. Nay. This time he knew his heart had taken control, saying that which needed to be said. “I love ye, my own,” he whispered again, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“And I love ye, as well, my fine warrior.” She touched his face, smoothing her thumb across a swollen line along his cheekbone. “Come back to me safely, aye?”
“I will,” he promised. “With Beitris on my arm.” He pulled a dagger from his boot and pressed it into her hands. “I willna fail ye, but I willna leave ye without a weapon, either.”
She hugged it to her chest, her eyes filling with more tears. “I shall pray both of ye safe and returned to me with haste.”
