“Is there a youth among them with bright red hair the color of my son’s?”
Now Clive sputtered in confusion and glanced again at Daran. “Is his mind faltering? I can imagine it being so because of the pain.”
“It’s not his mind, Laird, but my sister he’s thinking of. I just told him that I saw her near the ship on the day of the ambush… dressed as a man—”
“Your sister dressed as a man? I remember her from my visit tae Wexford, a bonny lass indeed. But there’s no prisoner here with red hair like yours, and if a young woman had been among you, I would have been told, unless…”
As Clive fell silent, William tried to raise himself on the cot again, only to grimace and curse from the stabbing pain.
“My daughter, man! If she was there on the beach, she would have been captured along with my captain named Finnegan, who stood with her!”
“Aye, but not brought here. A handful were taken tae Earl Seoras as proof of the ambush, just as I’d agreed. When I saw him the day before his death, he told me that Irish prisoners had been thrown into a pit and would rot there—”
“Bastard!” William lunged from the cot and grabbed Clive by the throat before the man could squeal, though a white flash of pain caused his knees to buckle.
Together they crashed to the floor, William summoning every last ounce of his strength to throttle the life from the man who had caused them so much misery even as guards rushed into the cell.
It took three of them to pry William’s death grip from around Clive’s fleshy neck, the man coughing and sputtering and rolling away on the filthy floor to curse at him.
“Y-you attack me when I’ve done everything I could tae keep you alive? And now I’ll have nothing tae show for it even if the ransom comes! Guards,help me up!”
With two men still restraining William, one of them digging his fingers cruelly into his wound, the third one assisted Clive to his feet while Daran huddled against the wall, sobbing again.
If his son had been a true warrior, he would have taken the chance to seize a sword and cut them all down, William thought bitterly, crying out in agony as the guards shoved him down onto the cot.
A weakling son and a reckless daughter! One most likely dead and the other soon to be, as Clive stormed from the cell without another word, dashing William’s hopes of swaying him to send another letter of ransom to Wexford.
“I’m going to die… I’m going to die,” intoned Daran brokenly, sliding down the wall to the floor and tucking his knees to his chest as he wept.
William said nothing, but closed his eyes to the disgrace that was his son and wished in vain that he’d had another moment more to strangle the life from Clive.
He had come so close to vengeance.So close!
Chapter 13
“Are you warm enough, Aislinn?”
Shivering in spite of the cloak she’d wrapped around herself, the night air grown so cool, she nonetheless nodded at Cameron.
What else could he do for her? No warming fire could be built that might signal their presence, his men hiding among the dense trees less than a league from the MacGodfrey stronghold.
Cameron had decided to stop here rather than further south alongside the road to Carlisle—and why continue on when they would discover soon enough if Irish prisoners were indeed held by her cousin Clive?
She had met that disgusting pig of a man only once at a supper in his honor when he had sailed to Wexford to meet with her father. She had watched in horrified fascination as Clive consumed enough roasted meat and trimmings for three men, but as soon as the talk turned to King Robert, she had been told to leave the room.
A fateful night filled with lies that had inspired her father to make ready to leave for Scotland and to turn his mind to her future, when for years he’d ignored her and left her alone!
That King Robert’s imprisoned wife was also a cousin must have doubly swayed him, but whatever Clive had claimed as to where his loyalty lay had sealed her father’s resolve to cross the water—saints help her! Would she see him and her brother alive and breathing in the morning?
“Your teeth are chattering, Aislinn—here, come closer.”
Already sitting near Cameron beneath a tree, she shivered again, but this time it wasn’t because she was cold.
He had hardly spoken during their hours-long journey, Cameron a different man altogether when leading his men with his terse commands… though once again, he had bidden her to ride beside him.
Yet now, with their horses tethered nearby and resting in the darkness, an owl hooting overhead, it was her first opportunity to speak with him after what he’d said to King Robert—and what she had agreed to as well!
With a small sigh, she obliged him and scooted closer, Cameron’s arm going around her shoulders to pull her close. At once she felt warmed by the heat of his body through his clothing, a blush firing her cheeks that she would even think of what lay beneath his own woolen cloak, and his tartan breacan and tunic.
