Cullen locked eyes with Lowri, kicked his horse hard and thundered down the beach. Lowri’s cry of, ‘Wait,’ fell on deaf ears.
He reached the edge of the shoreline dotted with huge boulders of grey rock taller than his head. Cullen threw himself off his horse and called, ‘Briony!’ Only the waves called back, crashing relentlessly to shore. He rushed around the tumble of rocks, slimy with algae and kelp, stumbling and banging his knee. His heart grew more chilled with every passing minute. The tide was going out, clawing at the sand and shingle.
The alarm cry of gulls up ahead alerted him to her presence. Deep down, he had always expected to find her broken, but the sight made him put his fist to his mouth. Briony lay on the shale, limp, lifeless, half in the water. The sea sucked at her boots and skirts as if it were trying to drag her away. Cullen leant over her. Briony’s kingfisher eyes were wide, staring, spider-webbed with red veins. They seemed to glow in the setting sun. He peeled blonde hair off her neck and cursed at the macabre necklace of crimson welts encircling it. A red ribbon of blood ran from herlip down her cheek, and her hands were clawed, the fingertips red. Not her blood.
Lowri called his name in the distance.
‘Over here,’ he called back. Cullen put a hand to Briony’s neck. It was still slightly warm to the touch, yet blood no longer pulsed in her veins.
Lowri stumbled around a rock and came to a dead halt. ‘Oh God, Cullen. Is she dead?’
‘Aye, she’s gone, and her fingers are bloody. The lass must have put up a fight. Look,’ he said, pointing to her neck. ‘There is so much anger in it.’ His jaw was clenched so tight, he thought his teeth might shatter. His rage was scorching – pounding in his chest, a fist round his throat and acid in his belly.
‘She was awful, a liar, and I didn’t like her, but no one should suffer such a brutal end.’ Lowri turned away and heaved into the sand, but nothing came up. She wiped tears away with the back of her hand.
‘Tis an awful sight to be sure,’ said Cullen, but he could not comfort Lowri for his rage was too fierce. It would scorch any soft words before they left his mouth.
‘If only we had sought her out sooner. We should never have let her run back to Butcher and his cronies. Is this our fault?’
‘No, lass. Briony went her own way and made her choices freely. All that remains now is to avenge her and send her murderer to hell.’
‘Heap?’ said Briony.
‘No,’ said Butcher, emerging on the rocky headland, where he must have been spying on them. ‘I’ll not let another man take credit for my work.’ Bloody scratches marred his handsome face.
‘You foul devil,’ cried Lowri.
‘What’s this, lass? Tears over one so worthless? It puzzles me, for this drab had nought but bad to say about you.’ His words were so casual, so devoid of remorse, that Lowri took a step back.
Cullen got to his feet. ‘So, you did this.’
‘Aye. She was a worthless, lying whore who spun me a pretty tale. No bitch does that and gets away with it.’
‘You didn’t have to kill her,’ cried Lowri.
‘What’s one less whore in the world?’ Butcher shrugged and jumped down from his rock, landing softly, like a cat. ‘I should have seen it coming. She told me she was high-born and rich, but it was the work of a moment to get her on her back. That should have given me cause to doubt her tale. But there’s me, thinking my charms were irresistible.’ He snickered.
‘You are despicable, a worm, nought but a snivelling coward,’ cried Lowri.
‘Now that is harsh, lass.’ He came closer, palms outstretched. ‘The real coward, well, that’s your man there who lets me kick him like a dog and takes it. He’s been under my boot for years.’
Lowri pulled her pistol from her pocket and aimed it straight at Butcher’s head.
‘Can you not reason with the lass, Cullen? She has taken leave of her senses and is set on murdering me.’
Lowri glanced at Cullen, and it was in that moment that Butcher back-handed her and sent her flying. Lowri’s head hit the boulder behind her with a sickening thud, and she fell to the sand. There was no time to help her as Butcher launched himself at Cullen, sending him flying against a boulder. His shoulder connected with the rock and sent a flash of agony up his arm.
Then Butcher was on him, punching, kicking, trying to grapple him to the ground. Cullen lost his balance under the onslaught of fury and hit the sand. The sea washed in, filling his mouth, sand in his eyes, scratching, burning. As he struggled to withstand the pain in his shoulder and get to his feet, Butcher’s shadow loomed over him. A boot met his ribs, vicious, crunching, bone-snapping.
‘She’s a spirited beauty, your woman,’ panted Butcher. ‘I do hope I have not killed her. There’s more fun to be had first.’
Cullen got to his knees, fuelled by fury. Another kick sent him flying to land on his back. A wave washed in, choking him, and then Butcher’s weight came down, pinning him underwater, hands about his throat. Cullen tore at his hands, but the man was strong and full of hate. His fingers became a vice. He pulled Cullen out of the water. His face was twisted and snarling.
‘You’ve not broken her in, that wife of yours. She needs a firmer hand. Once you are gone, I will have her all to myself, and she will learn the wisdom of obedience. I will enjoy making her moan underneath me.’
‘You’ll never have her,’ sputtered Cullen as he twisted with all his strength, rolling aside. Butcher was put off balance, and his hands loosened. Cullen tore free and put all his weight behind a punch to Butcher’s jaw. It landed with a crunch, and he staggered backwards into the water, momentarily dazed.
Cullen glanced at Lowri. The ocean was rushing towards her, the water sweeping almost to her face, where it lay on the sand. Soon, it would inundate her. She would drown. He had to reach her.
