Kinnon looked like he’d swallowed something bitter, but he remained silent for a moment before finally nodding, “So be it.” Kinnon looked round to the others, calling, “Did everyone hear that? Any mistake can be deadly.” The men called out their agreement, and at Duncan’s signal, they fell into place behind him, riding into the clearing near the gate. Gil tied a white flag onto his spear, and with one last look to Duncan, kicked his horse to a gallop.
Duncan watched, back stiff, as Gil approached the crumbled wall of the castle. A sudden movement flashed behind the rotted portcullis gate, and instinctively, Duncan reached for his claymore. The others followed suit, the air hissing with the sound of swords clearing their sheaths.
A moment later a tiny bundle was thrust through the opening, fastened to the tip of a spear. Gil took it, then wheeled his mount around to come riding back to them.
“Someone was waiting for me.” Gil pulled his horse to a halt beside Duncan. “But he wouldn’t exchange words. He only handed this over, then disappeared round the corner, into a dark passageway beyond the inner court.” Gil held out the offering to Duncan.
The linen square felt weighted. It was more than a simple message, sure. Duncan unfolded the fabric so quickly that he almost dropped the object that fell from its creases. With a jerk, he caught the token and then opened his gloved hand to view it. Cold sliced through him, followed by a shock so deep that his hand froze in its outstretched position. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the object in his palm.
Kinnon cursed softly as he too caught sight of it.
“What is it?” Robert asked, pulling his mount in closer.
“It’s the MacRae betrothal ring. The one Duncan gave to Aileana not two weeks ago.”
Robert grabbed at something that fluttered from the linen that had encased it. Unfolding the parchment, he said, “It’s a message, instructing you to come to the gate and enter alone, MacRae. The rest of us are to go back to the forest and forego an attack of the ruin for three days.”
Kinnon made a scoffing sound. “Not likely, that.”
Robert looked at him, his expression grim. “Aye, well it also says that if these conditions are not met, Aileana will die. The ring has been offered as a token of Morgana’s esteem—and as a reminder of what will be sacrificed if you do not heed her will.”
Duncan heard each of Robert’s words as if from a distance, though every syllable fell on his ears with the weight of death. He felt a grinding in his gut that he hadn’t experienced since that night many years ago, when he’d woken after the massacre to find Mairi so still and silent beside him. “I’m going after her. Now,” he said hoarsely, shifting Glendragon toward the gate and preparing to dig his heels into the stallion’s sides.
“Wait!” Kinnon grasped his bridle. “You can’t go in there, Duncan. It’s suicide to go alone.”
The muscles in Duncan’s arms twitched, and he wrenched Glendragon free of his cousin’s grip. “I’m going.”
“What can it serve, if this be nothing more than a ploy to entrap you?”
“Itisa trap, about that there is no doubt, but I’d rather face it and die than not try at all and have Aileana suffer for it.”
“And what if—” Kinnon paused, his eyes shadowed with pain. “I hate even to think it, and yet if I did not voice the possibility I would be remiss as your kinsman…and as your friend.”
He shook his head, his expression grim. “God forgive me, Duncan, but what if Aileana herself is working with Morgana for some reason? What if this ploy is the one she knows will be most likely to bring you in—the one that will leave you most completely at their mercy?”
Duncan scowled and steadied Glendragon, who seemed to sense his master’s leashed fury, pawing and wheeling about as if to break into stride. “If Aileana is that corrupt of heart and I am so mistaken in my belief of her, Kinnon, then I would rather be dead, for never again would I be able to trust my own judgment in anything or anyone,” he said, all the force of his passion and love for her filling his voice. “But she is true, man; I know she is. And I cannot stand idly by while her devil of a sister destroys her in order to get to me.”
Robert broke in. “If you’ve a mind to go in after her, MacRae, I say do it.”
“It is my intent.” Duncan loosened his hold on Glendragon’s bridle a fraction; the stallion felt the change and lunged forward, prancing in a circle as Duncan issued his final command to Kinnon, Robert, and the others. “Do as the message dictates, up to one point. If I haven’t returned with Aileana by nightfall, don’t wait. Attack and take the castle. By that time I’ll have succeeded in gaining our freedom or else it will be over.”
His gaze locked with Kinnon’s for an instant before he nodded and let Glendragon have full rein. With a whinnying cry, the stallion broke into a gallop, crossing the outer courtyard and approaching the gate. The wind whipped Duncan’s cheeks, and he clenched his jaw with impatience and anxiety. Before long he reached the portcullis. Dismounting, he dropped Glendragon’s reins to the earth to keep him still and peered into the courtyard.
Nothing. All looked overgrown. Were it not for the messenger who’d given Gil the ring, he might have believed himself mistaken in thinking the place a home for naught but daws and spiders. He leaned in further, searching for signs of life. Out of the corner of his gaze he saw the movement an instant before a hand darted from an alcove in the castle wall to grip him by the plaid on his chest. As he was yanked into the courtyard, he caught a glimpse of the man’s arm.
In reflex, Duncan shifted his gaze to his attacker’s face. Golden-brown hair and a scowling mouth flickered into his conscious mind, then an image of an eye patch and a stare that was hard and remorseless…
Recognition slammed home, making Duncan suck in his breath.Colin. He should have known his brother would be the one to greet him.But before he could voice a word, a fist hurtled at his face, connecting with a sickening thud and dropping him into a darkness that was as all-encompassing as the flat chill of his bastard brother’s gaze.
Chapter 24
Duncan awoke, gasping, and snapped up to a sitting position. His arms lashed out as he tried to fight his way from the fetid, black hole that had been swallowing him again. It had been the same as always. Darkness. Pain. The hell of the chamber they’d kept him in. Only this time there’d been something different. This time others besides the guards tormented and tortured him…
Colin.Morgana.
As their names uncoiled into his conscious memory, the remaining fog of his nightmare lifted. He became aware of his surroundings and of the throbbing ache in his head. Rubbing his sore jaw, Duncan looked around the dim contours of the room that confined him. If nothing else, it was cold and damp. No wonder, then, that he’d had the dream…
He blinked, and as he lifted his hand to rub his forehead, he brushed against something warm and soft. Time seemed to stand still, and all movement ceased. His chest ached with tightness, as his gaze focused on what lay next to him on the pallet. She was stretched out in graceful repose, her fiery hair accentuating the pallor of her skin with unearthly contrast.
