Connell dodged as Glenton thrust his blade forward. He heard footsteps behind him and whirled toward the imposter, expecting to see a soldier. His sword clashed against a blade, blocking his attack, and his eye widened when he found Brann’s freckled face staring back at him. For a moment, he wondered if Brann would take Glenton’s side. The boy had only just entered and found two of his accomplices fighting against each other. Perhaps Brann would think Connell was his enemy.
However, Brann gave Connell a curt nod. “I am here to help,” he said simply before stepping away from Connell and pointing his sword at Glenton.
Glenton tossed back his head, laughing wildly. “Ye think ye can take me, lad?” he asked Brann.
“I don’t know, but I will try,” Brann said darkly. He thrust his sword forward.
Glenton jumped backward, his focus on Brann. Connell took his chance. He caught his sword rather than the hilt, and before Glenton could attack Brann he slammed it down onto Glenton’s head.
Glenton grunted, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and Connell watched as the man dropped to the floor, his sword falling out of his hand and clanging to the ground. Connell stepped over him and rushed to Elsy’s side, grabbing her, and pulling her close. She groaned, her eyes fluttering open, her hand touching the side of his face.
“Yer alive,” she breathed as he untied the ropes binding her wrists.
Connell frowned at the angry red welts marring her skin.She needs a healer,he thought as he tossed the rope toward Brann. He took her chin with two fingers and turned her face from side to side, his frown deepening as he gazed at the black and blue bruise already forming on her cheek.
“Aye,” he whispered. “I’m alive.”
Elsy nuzzled her nose against his, her lips nearly touching him, but before he could kiss her, she gasped, quickly rising to her feet. He followed her up, grabbing her shoulders when she teetered.
“Scotty,” she breathed while rushing toward the door. “We must find Scotty. McCormick--” She gagged. “We must find Scotty!” she shouted while running out of the room.
“Wait, Elsy!” Connell shouted, stepping around Brann who was busy tying Glenton’s hands behind his back. He grabbed Elsy’s arm, careful not to touch her injured wrist, but she pushed him away, her eyes wide and wild, her body trembling uncontrollably. She reminded him of a wet and terrified cat, about to pounce and strike out at anyone’s approach.
“Alan is alive,” Elsy whispered. “He’s alive and he’s with Scotty.”
Connell’s brow furrowed. He didn’t understand.Alan is alive? Why is he with Scotty? What does this have anything to do with the young lass?Connell worried Elsy had been through too much. Possibly she was seeing ghosts due to the trauma of being captured once more. He believed there was a man with Scotty, one that appeared similar to her late husband, but it couldn’t be McCormick. He was dead.
“Connell,” Elsy said shakily, “Alan is the one who has been taking the young lasses. If we don’t hurry, he will- he will-”
Horror filled Connell. “What?” he breathed, imagining Scotty lying on a bed as a man shrouded in darkness approached her. He couldn’t let anything happen to the girl. She was too young, too fragile.
“We must find them at once!” Elsy shouted while turning on her heel and running out the door.
Connell ran after her, glancing over his shoulder briefly to shout at Brann, “Leave Glenton! I require yer sword!”
He didn’t bother to see if Brann followed his orders. The inn was filled with the sound of men grunting and swords clashing. “Hurry!” he heard Grant shout, heard footsteps bounding up the stairs. The smell of blood nauseated his senses, reminding him of the Battle of Falkirk and the bodies littering the field.
“Scotty!” Elsy shouted while throwing one door open. She looked around briefly before running to another door across from it. “Scotty!” she called again while pushing it open.
“Elsy, stop,” said Connell while grabbing her arm once more and pulling her toward him. Brann hovered behind him, looking frantically between them. “Brann, take Elsy far from here. Make sure she is safe.”
“Nae!” Elsy shouted while stomping her foot. She tried to wrench her arm from Connell’s hold, but Connell refused to let her go. “I need to know Scotty is safe! I need to know ye will live!”
“I can’t have ye here for me to worry about,” Connell said, leaning toward her, his forehead pressing against hers. “I nearly lost ye. I do not know what I will do if something terrible befalls ye.”
Elsy shook her head. “I cannot permit ye to send me away, Connell,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I need to find Scotty. The lass is in grave danger.”
Elsy pulled away from him and ran down the corridor. Connell sighed as she opened another door, calling for the young girl before turning around and searching in another. There were only two more rooms and Connell worried the man, whomever he might be, had already taken Scotty far away.
“Connell!” Grant shouted as he stepped onto the landing, Donald and Ian following closely behind him. “The inn has been secured.”
“Glenton is over there,” Connell nodded at the room closest to the staircase. “He’s bound. Don’t untie him, no matter what he says.”
Ian frowned; confusion evident in his stare. “Glenton?”
“Aye, he attacked Connell,” Brann said. “I saw it with my own eyes. He can nae longer be trusted.”
“I’ll retrieve the traitor,” said Donald with a huff.
“What about Scotty?” Ian asked while nodding in Elsy’s direction.
Connell didn’t say anything as he turned toward the corridor, stalking down it and watching Elsy stand outside the last door in the corner. She wiggled the handle of the door up and down. The door refused to budge.
“Scotty!” she shouted while slamming her hands against the wood. “Alan! Unlock this door at once!” She slammed her fists harder against it and Connell grimaced, seeing the red welts beginning to burst and bleed with her frantic movements. “Do not harm her!”
“Elsy,” Connell said calmly while nudging her out of the way with his shoulder. “Let me.”
Inhaling deeply, he slammed his shoulder against the door, the wood giving and breaking with his weight. He rushed inside the dimly lit room. A simple cot sat in the corner, a desk resting next to it with a lit candle offering little light. Scotty’s eyes were closed, one arm hanging over the side. A man hovered above her, his golden hair glimmering in the candle’s light. Logan stood in the corner, his sword drawn, but Connell’s gaze remained on the man near the cot.
“McCormick,” he whispered.
