“Aye, husband, aye,” she murmured, burying her burning face into his neck as her heartbeat quickened at what lay ahead.
Conall had begun to laugh and she giggled with him, too, the keep ringing with their joy as he raced up the steps, two at a time.
Chapter19
“Do you see a flag, man?”
“No, Laird, the torchlight aboard their ship is too dim.They’re under full sail, though, and flying upon the waves—”
“Lunacy!If the shallow depth doesna destroy their hull, then the rocks ahead will—by God, look!Whoever has their hands upon the helm must know these waters well tae change their course so abruptly.Keep us well within sight of their ship, but not so close that they’ll see us.The night is dark enough no matter the quarter moon, so we should be able tae shadow them, aye?”
“Aye, like a wraith out of the mouth of hell.They dinna call you the devil of the seas for no good reason!”
Gavin MacLachlan scowled at his helmsman’s cackling, but the unknown ship was too far away for the sound to carry above the whistling wind filling their own sail.
The thick cloth dyed a red ochre that wasn’t as easy to spot as the white sail on the other vessel, especially at night.The deck and mast and stowed oars were stained black, and the hull blackened with tar, which added to their cover.Their tunics and breacans were black, too, so they did look a demon ship straight out of Hades when coming upon unsuspecting vessels ripe for plunder.
With the sail billowing and salt spray stinging his face, Gavin felt that same familiar thrill of exhilaration whenever he and his men were on the hunt.
An exhilaration fueled by fierce emotion—fury and a burning lust for retribution—that wracked him as well and made his hands clench tightly into fists.
He towered over the wiry helmsman, Gavin’s feet spread wide for balance and the wind whipping at his shoulder-length hair.A dark red that had been likened to the color of blood melded with fire as captive sailors had vomited in fear before they were thrown overboard to swim for their lives to shore.
He had never wantonly killed anyone if unarmed, but in battle upon the sea with swords flashing, aye, plenty had felt the deadly swipe of his blade.
He was a raider with any ship fair game for plundering if he judged he could take it, and some he allowed to continue empty of goods to a home port.Yet if the vessel they shadowed proved English, Gavin would burn it to ashes upon the waves.
He hated England for the oppression and brutality of its late king, Edward, his weakling son now upon the throne.That wretched oppression had divided Scotland, many loyal to England for the royal favor bestowed upon them while others sought clan alliances to enrich their power, which had been at the heart of Gavin losing the woman he loved.
Cora.
Gavin swore under his breath.She was never far from his mind, but he forced himself to focus upon their quarry.Was the ship coursing ahead of them part of some planned invasion?If so, then where was the rest of the fleet?Again Gavin scanned the dark sea, but there was no sign of other sails as far as he could peer into the distance.
He usually sailed the waters closer to England, where the pickings were more numerous and richer, and even as far south as the coast of Normandy, where he had spent the last few months.Aye, he despised the French, too, with their duplicitous lust for alliances with England, their long-hated enemy.
A seething web of pacts and agreements that had stomped the hearts and hopes of countless victims into dust and despair and heartache—like what had happened to him and the woman he had wanted to marry,Cora!
The only reason Gavin had ventured this close to Argyll, a place he had sworn never to return to again, was because he’d heard startling news that had spurred him northward.
He had been long at sea until a week past, having returned from France, and had docked his loaded ship near Dumfries where he had traded plunder for gold coin—the ruthless men he dealt with asking no questions.
Most of the talk in the seedy inn had been of King Edward’s death and his son’s fondness for male lovers, and whether this younger Edward would have courage enough to carry on his father’s quest to subdue Scotland.The discourse had then turned to foul curses against the false king, Robert the Bruce, and how he had narrowly escaped death at the hands of Seoras MacDougall when one of the earl’s own men had risen up against him and lopped off his head.
Gabriel MacLachlan, Gavin’s own cousin!He had scarcely heard anything else for his heartbeat roaring in his ears.
Cora…a widow.Even now he found it hard to believe as his helmsman pointed into the darkness, their quarry steering closer to the shore.
“Mayhap they’re planning tae anchor for the rest of the night, Laird.Shall I draw closer and we prepare for battle?”
“No, we’ll wait until daybreak and see if they’re staying or bound elsewhere.Steer us tae shore as well, but with a good distance between us so they dinna suspect we’re near.”
“Aye, Laird!”
Gavin left the helmsman’s side and went to the railing to peer into the distance at the ship’s sputtering torches that one by one, were being extinguished.Further away and rising above a promontory was a walled fortress where lights shone, though he didn’t know what laird resided there.The last he knew, it had been a MacDougall, but if Seoras had been overthrown and slain, then mayhap others in that clan had met the same fate.
Gavin’s men called him laird as well, but he owned no castle or land—only the ship surging beneath his feet.He had stolen an eight-oar fishing boat to sail away from Argyll, his first plunder as a raider, and within a few weeks had traded for another vessel, and then another until he’d gained this thirty-two oared birlinn that glided like a sleek serpent through the waves.
His hatred growing all the while for those responsible for tearing Cora away from him…Earl Seoras and her clan, the Campbells.
