Page 73 of Highland Spy

Thankfully, the next time he looked over his shoulder, he saw the dogs jumping, looking at something in the trees. Slink scolded them from up above, hopping from tree to tree, causing the hounds to go crazy.

“That’s my Slink,” he said with a smile, his only mission now being to find Bridget and to keep Valan from talking.

Chapter 24

“Faither!” screamed Bridget, sliding off the horse and running into the cave. Her father had been tied and gagged and was lying on the cold, hard ground. Next to him was Sim, tied and gagged as well. “What has he done to ye?” She noticed the bruises on her father’s face and the blood dripping down his chin. Sim looked over at her with wide eyes, too frightened to move as he sat on the cave floor next to Brigham.

“Yer faither gave me a hard time when I asked him to write in his book. That’s why I had to hurt him. If he would have just written what I wanted him to about me, there wouldna have been a problem.”

“I thought ye said ye wanted me to write about ye in the Highland Chronicles,” said Bridget.

“That missive was left for yer faither, no’ ye. But when ye arrived in the mews, I thought it might fool the king to have ye do it, but then I realized ye’re just a lass. Ye probably dinna even ken how to write.”

When Valan said he’d known her secret, Bridget thought he meant that she was writing the chronicles. Now she realized that wasn’t what he meant and that he didn’t know her secret after all.

“I ken yer faither is goin’ mad, Bridget. And as soon as I tell the king, yer lives are goin’ to change forever.”

Sim made a muffled noise, and Bridget’s heart went out to him. She just kept thinking about Sorley lying dead on the floor of the mews.

“Let Sim go,” she said. “He is no threat to ye.”

“Tsk, tsk,” said Valan with a cluck of his tongue. “Mayhap I should kill the whelp, just like I did to his lover.”

“Lover?” asked Bridget, now realizing Sorley’s secret.

Sim’s eyes opened wide in fear and he released a muffled scream against the gag, and pulled against his ropes. His and Sorley’s secret was now revealed, but it was something Bridget would never repeat.

“Sit down!” snarled Valan.

“I dinna want to sit.”

“Sit down while I figure out what to do with all of ye.” The man paced back and forth. “I wish I had more rope so I could tie ye up, too.”

“Ye’ll never get away with this,” she warned him. “Caleb MacKeefe and his clan will hunt ye down like a dog.”

“That’s it,” he said, rushing over and holding the tip of the sword under her chin. “I’ve heard enough out of ye. Take off yer plaid and rip it in strips.”

“I’ll do no such thing.”

“Then yer faither dies.” He moved the sword over to her father and she realized she had to stop him.

“Nay, wait! I’ll do it,” she said, tearing up her own clothes only so he could use them to bind and gag her, too. Tears filled her eyes because she knew she couldn’t fight off Valan, even if she’d had a dagger on her, which she didn’t. And any attempt she made to fight him or to escape was only going to mean death for her father and Sim. She couldn’t let that happen. Bridget prayed for a miracle, because that was the only thing that was going to save them now.

Valan continued to pace the floor of the cave. Her father lay there in naught but a night robe, his thin body shaking from the cold that set in. He didn’t move and neither did Sim. In the semi-darkened cave, she couldn’t even see them well enough to know if they were alive or dead. Then she heard a small noise and looked down, thinking at first it was a rat. But relief washed over her when she saw Slink sticking his nose into her bag. Mayhap she could get a message to Caleb. It was her only hope.

Keeping an eye on Valan, she used her hands behind her back to rip off a shred of her plaid. Caleb might know it was hers, but he still wouldn’t know where to find her. The cave was filled with moss, so she rubbed the shred of plaid against it, trying her best to flip it toward the pine marten. Then she tried to whisper through the gag.

“Take dis to Cay – ib,” she said, seeming to catch the animal’s attention. Still, it didn’t pick up the scrap of plaid. She pushed it with her tied hands toward the animal again and, this time, Slink picked it up in his mouth. Using her mind, she tried to tell the animal to take it to Caleb. It was an absurd thought that it would work, but she had to try something. She wasn’t sure if the pine marten understood her or not, but before she knew it, Slink dashed off into the shadows, and then he was gone.

* * *

Caleb made his way back to the castle, emerging from the woods, running as fast as he could. There was a crowd of people gathered around the mews, and no one even paid any attention to him.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked a woman standing nearby.

“They found a dead body in the mews,” she told him. “One of the children discovered it.”

“God’s eyes, nay,” he cried, thinking it was Bridget. He pushed through the crowd, entering the mews to find Storm, the king, and even his friends, staring down at someone covered in blood. “Is it Bridget?” he shouted, pushing his way closer, relief washing through him that it wasn’t Bridget.