A life cut short with the swing of Errol’s blade, all of his fury and anguish and heartache over Tira’s plight taken out on the remaining prisoner whom Gavin would have executed anyway.
The deck awash now in blood from the slain guard and raider alike while Errol swung his sword again to bury the blade in the railing, splinters flying.
His roared-out curses drowned out Tira’s inconsolable sobs carrying to him from the cargo well…though a moment later when he had fallen silent, his chest heaving and his hands clenched helplessly, he heard Brody’s calming voice.
“Aye, lass, cry your heart out, I dinna blame you. It’s a terrible time you’ve endured, but you’re safe now, Tira Cheyne. Soon we’ll be sailing home tae Scotland…”
Home? Errol cursed again, this time under his breath as he retrieved his sword and strode toward the prow to see that Gavin and his warriors were making their way back to the ships.
Where did Tira have left to go now that her father was dead? A cousin of Monroe’s had been named chieftain of that sept, the castle and lands given over to him, so she no longer had a home to which she could return—aye, another shock that could kill her in her fragile state.
If Monroe had lived, Errol would have brought her to him and asked for her hand in marriage, for nothing had changed the resolve burning inside him to make Tira his wife.
Not the unborn bairn she carried or the brutality she had suffered or the horrified look she had given him when he touched her cheek—och, God, did she hate all men now, including him?
“It’s done, let us leave this accursed place!” came Gavin’s shouted command to his men as he hoisted himself aboard the ship close to where Errol was standing.
The renowned Highland warrior’s face, arms, and tunic were stained with blood, though he clearly wasn’t wounded at all.Gavin appeared exhilarated in the torchlight, and with one long stride, he reached Errol to slap him heartily on the back.
“Thorgren Sigurdson will have no more tae return home tae than wailing women and bairns, his men dead other than the few that managed tae escape and his settlements burned tae ashes! How does your lady fare, Sutherland?”
Errol could only shrug grimly and glance toward the cargo well, which tempered Gavin’s elation at once, his expression become as grim.
“Dinna tell me she has perished?—”
“No, Brody is tending tae her. He told me I was distressing her and demanded I leave.”
“Och, my helmsman has always been one tae speak his mind. I trust him with my life and you should trust him with your lady. He knew what tae do when my wife, Cora, was aboard ship and became ill, and I’ve no doubt he has healing skills enough tae attend tae the lass if the bairn comes. A terrible misfortune has befallen her, but Tiraisalive so you’ve much tae be thankful for, aye?”
Another sound clap on the back didn’t lift Errol’s spirits, but only made him clench his jaw that he had been banished from the cargo well when all he wanted was to remain by her side.
As if discerning his thoughts, Gavin drew him away from the railing as the ship was shoved from the beach into deeper water and the last of the crew clambered aboard.
“Hear me, Sutherland. Tira isna the same as when you last saw her and not just because of the bairn in her belly. She’s suffered just as Cora suffered at the hands of her first husband, may Seoras MacDougall rot in hell. If he hadna been slain, I would have found him myself and cleaved him in two for what he did tae her—aye, a pity Thorgren wasna here so you could mete out fair justice like you did tae that one there.”
Gavin glanced over his shoulder to where several crewmen had picked up the slain raider to toss his lifeless body into the sea, and then back to Errol, who nodded.
“Aye, it was me. The other one jumped overboard before I could strike him dead. Forgive me if I overstepped?—”
“You saved me the trouble, Sutherland! Your anger and frustration are evident, but you will have tae be patient with the lass. She’s in a fragile state and soon tae be a mother tae another man’s bairn, not yours. I’m sorry tae say it, but only time will tell if she recovers enough tae want any man near her again—och, it looks like I’m the one now tae take the helm!”
Gavin left Errol and strode toward the stern, the crew taking their seats at the oars to row the ship further away from the shoreline.
That left Errol to hasten after him, though it was all he could do to walk past the cargo well without ducking down the steps to check on Tira.
Thankfully he heard no sobbing beneath the canvas that was drawn tight, which made sense from how swiftly the temperature was dropping as the night deepened.
Was Tira warm enough? Had she managed to sip the water or eat anything? Had Brody given her some healer’s brew to calm her? Or were there preparations being made for a birth—och, how could he think about anything but what was happening with her?
“Sutherland, come and take the helm! Let’s give you a lesson in seamanship—God help you if you steer us into the rocks, I’ll throw you into the sea myself.”
Errol nodded, deep gratitude gripping him that Gavin had sensed the concerns running rampant through his mind and sought to distract him.
He would just have to keep telling himself that Tira was no longer a captive, but aboard ship and safe, which right now was all that mattered.
Yet in spite of how hard he tried to focus on Gavin’s instructions at the helm, he could not forget the look of horror in Tira’s eyes.
The same beautiful dove gray he remembered, but no longer filled with sweet innocence and love for him, only heartbreaking torment…
