Page 58 of The Cursed Highland Bride

“I must go after Katarina,” he told her, taking her hand in his. “Tor is going with me. If something happens tae the both o’ us, the clan will fall tae ye.”

“Dinnae say such things, Dunn. I will nae lose either o’ ye.”

Dunn smoothed the hair back from her face and held her eyes so that she would know he meant what he said. “If we fall, the clan is yers tae lead. Men will attempt tae use ye for their own ends, but ye must be strong. Dinnae allow them tae abuse ye. Chose a husband who will love ye, cherish ye, support ye, and respect ye. Dinnae settle for less.”

“Those are nae the words o’ the brother I ken,” Adamina teased him. “The brother I kenned believed love tae be a trap for the soul.”

“I have been taught otherwise.”

Adamina smiled. “Ye will return, both o’ ye, and ye will have Katarina with ye.”

“May it be so.” Dunn smiled back at her. He kissed her on the forehead and followed Tor outside, wondering how many men he could gather. The dead were being lined up in the courtyard for their families to care for. Women and children sobbed over the bodies of their fallen loved ones. Dunn paused to speak with the priest who was there to bless the lost and to comfort their families. “Faither,” he greeted.

“My laird.”

“Mark down the names of the dead. When I return, I will speak with each family.”

“And the dead o’ our enemy?”

“Bury them.”

“Aye, my laird.”

Dunn moved on through the courtyard and climbed the stairs to the battlements above. The boats were quickly disappearing from view. Dunn would have liked to send their dead back with them, but such was not a possibility. The best that he could do for them was to give them a Christian burial in spite of all that they had done to harm his people. He was a formidable foe in battle, but he was not a soulless monster. The enemy had families that would mourn them too.

Down on the beach, his men worked to clear the dead and wounded. Abandoned boats bobbed in the sea where the enemy had fled with such haste that they could not retrieve them all. Dunn contemplated how he might use them to his advantage. If the enemy believed him and his men to be one of their own returning from the battle, he might stand a chance at reaching the shore without detection. If he could make it ashore, then he could find a way south to Morgan’s stronghold. There, he would have to summon enough strength to fight another, and hopefully the final, battle. He was tired of fighting the same enemy. Alistair Morgan had taken too much from him.

Dunn stood watching until darkness fell over the sea when Tor joined him on the battlements to deliver his report. “The beach will nae be cleared until the morn. The men need time tae rest. Ye need time tae rest. We cannae leave until the morrow.”

Dunn knew that he was right, but he hated it. Every day that passed, Katarina was in more danger. She had already been gone far too long.

Hold on, my love. I am coming for ye.

* * *

Katarina and her sisters waited, huddled together in the dark. Their only light, a small candle that had been placed in the cell when Morgan’s men had deposited Katarina, had long since gone out. They waited for someone to come, but no one did. It was impossible to tell time in a place with no windows, but Katarina knew that they had been waiting long past any usual food delivery time that the girls had described to her.

“Will they leave us to starve?” Idalia asked the question that was on everyone’s mind.

“I do not know,” Katarina answered honestly. “Now that they have all three of us as their prisoners with no reason to keep us alive, it is possible. However, I would have thought Morgan to be more of a hand-to-hand executioner. Slow starvation does not seem his way.”

“I pray that you are right.”

“As do I.” Katarina reached through the darkness and took her sisters’ hands. “We will find a way out. We will make a new life for ourselves and honor the memory of those we have lost.” She squeezed their hands in reassurance. “Morgan will not win.”

* * *

Dunn spent a restless night unable to sleep for fear of what had befallen his wife. He sat in her bedchamber and stared into the fire, holding the tapestry that she had been working on in his hands. His anger at himself for his behavior towards her, along with his rage at Alistair Morgan for what he had done to her and her family, filled him with a fury that burned through his heart and mind, consuming him.

“We will find her,” Tor’s voice reassured him from the open doorway. He entered the room and came to sit in the chair opposite Dunn. “We will find her and her sisters. Morgan will be made tae answer for what he has done. Ye need tae sleep. Yer wound will nae heal if ye dinnae rest.”

“I cannae sleep.” He looked at his brother and saw that he was not the only one who had been worrying themselves to the point of sleeplessness. Dark circles marred the underside of Tor’s eyes. “Nor can ye.”

His brother shook his head. “Nae, I cannae, but I did nae bear a knife wound such as yers.”

Dunn waved away his concern. “I can bear it well enough.” In truth, the battle had made his wound worse, but he was not about to admit to it.

“Where do ye think he is holding them?”