Chapter Fifteen
The anger Iain felt for giving into the need to see Islaen was forgotten when he stepped into the hall and found Tavis throttling a man while a glowering Robert watched. “What goes on here?"
Tavis flung the man he held away from him. “Fraser."
Iain felt his blood run cold with fear. “Islaen?"
"He has her. Her and Storm,” Tavis snarled. “That is what this dog says."
"T'was all he managed to say ere your brother proceeded to strangle him,” Robert drawled but fury made his voice harsh.
"Aye, Tavis,” Colin said as he gripped his eldest son's shoulder in a gesture of sympathy and understanding. “That willnae help. Has the mon got his breath back yet?” he asked the men guarding Fraser's messenger. “I ken there is more to the message he brought us."
When his guards yanked him to his feet, Fraser's messenger wheezed, “Wants Iain. Trade lasses for Iain MacLagan. Sorcha's croft."
Robert grabbed hold of Iain when he turned to leave. “Where do ye think ye are going?"
"Ye heard the terms."
"I heard a trap."
"Do ye think I didnae? There is no choice. We cannae leave Storm and Islaen in his hands."
"And we cannae put ye into his hands. That will just give him three to kill."
"How he thinks to get away with this madness, I cannae guess,” Tavis growled, then looked at Fraser's messenger, smiled coldly and pulled out his knife. “Mayhaps this coward will tell us. ‘Tis nay too hard to make such a dog howl.” He looked to his father. “We cannae plan until we ken what Fraser plans. E'en his ravings could be of use."
"An I go...” Iain began.
"If ye go to him ye die,” Tavis said flatly, “then the lasses die. Mayhaps he will keep Storm alive to bargain for his own life but I wouldnae wager on it. Sending ye willnae e'en buy us time."
Colin went to shut the hall doors, then turned. “Do it, Tavis."
It was not to Iain's liking to torture a man and he knew Tavis had no stomach for it either, but their need was desperate. The man would not talk unless he knew they would sink lower and hurt him more than his master. To Iain's relief the man broke quickly. It took great restraint to keep from killing the man, however, when he spoke of all Fraser had threatened or planned for his twisted revenge.
"He hadnae planned on the second lass,” the man finished. “He will use her to ransom his life an he's attacked."
"Ye would have Storm back an I went to him, Tavis."
"Aye and she would most like cut my throat an I bought her back with the lives of ye and Islaen. Iain, the mon must be mad to think he can do this and live. Ye cannae deal with such as he. We will have to rescue the women."
"That could be verra dangerous,” he said even though he knew Tavis was right.
"Aye, but we havenae any other choice. An any harm comes to those lasses, ye slinking dog,” Tavis growled at his prisoner, “and ye will be hung by the thumbs from the walls of Caraidland and provide a living feast for the corbies. Secure him weel."
"Now that we have all that what do we do with it?” Robert drawled.
"Go after the women and, if we are lucky, get them back alive and unharmed,” Colin answered quietly.
Islaen barely swallowed a screech when Fraser roughly shoved her and Storm off of the back of Beltraine. She knew she was lucky to land without seriously injuring herself. Turning to look at Storm she found the woman groggy but unhurt. Even as she reached to help Storm, Fraser grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet.
"I should have worn my coif,” she muttered. “Storm?"
"I am fine, Islaen. Just hit my head, ‘tis all,” Storm answered as one of Fraser's men roughly yanked her to her feet. “Where's Sorcha?"
"Ye mean the old slut that lived here?” Fraser shoved Islaen inside the crofter's hut. “She is dead."
"You whoreson,” Storm hissed as she was shoved into Islaen, making them both stumble and fall.
