Page 39 of Tempting the Highland Captive

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

It was past midday before Amelia felt up to rejoin the living. After dressing, she made her way down to the hall to find everyone gathered to eat. It was clear that she was not the only one who had suffered ill effects from the previous night’s festivities. Ron, Lucas, and Father Jacob were already upon the raised dais waiting for her. Not meeting his eyes, Amelia moved to take her seat beside her husband. “Lass,” he greeted, but did not push her. Amelia nodded carefully at Lucas and Father Jacob but did not attempt to carry on a fluid conversation. Sensing that she wished to be left alone, the men talked around her about what needed to be done once the remainder of the rents arrived from those within the clan who could not make the journey to the castle themselves.

“It should be a sizable amount of food, livestock, wool, and some coin,” Lucas was explaining to Ron. “There are a great many o’ our people who were unable tae make it to the castle for the festivities.”

“’Tis good that ye allow them tae pay with goods and nae demand coin,” Ron noted, nodding his head in understanding. “I ken some lairds are rather adamant on the rents. I am certain that yer people appreciate it.”

“Aye, most lairds accept rent in kind, but there are some that dinnae. I have heard that Rossell is a rather demanding rent taker,” Father Jacob added in agreement. He blinked his bloodshot eyes to clear them. Amelia could see that he was suffering from a similar ailment to herself.

“Right bastard,” Lucas grumbled at the mention of his mortal enemy.

“Aye, he is at that,” Ron murmured, taking a drink of his ale.

The conversation went on about various tasks that would need to be performed throughout what remained of the day until a red-faced young man burst into the hall. Lucas arose and crossed the hall in mere seconds. He listened intently to the lad, then turned and came to stand in front of Amelia on the dais. “The rents have been taken and the men guarding them have been killed.” His voice was grave, deep, and trembled with barely controlled rage.

“Rossell?” Ron asked, already on his feet.

“Aye, I can only think so after the beating I gave him last night,” Lucas agreed. “I will be goin’ tae see what I can find out about the attackers. Ron?”

“Aye.” Ron nodded his affirmation to go with him.

Father Jacob crossed himself and came to his feet rosary in hand. “I will go with ye.”

“As will I.” Amelia arose to her feet but was stopped by Ron’s hand upon her arm.

“Ye cannae go, lass, ‘tis tae dangerous. What if it is a trap?”

Amelia shook her arm free of his grasp and leveled him with a warning look. “These are my people that have been murdered. I will nae sit here and wait for men tae do my duty.” She turned to leave, but he attempted to stop her once more.

“Ye cannae help yer people if ye are dead. Let me go in yer stead. I will see that all is done right.”

“I will nae trust the safety o’ my people, or the collecting o’ their dead, tae a man who is little more than a stranger.” Amelia snapped. The instant that the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. The look of hurt that flashed through Ron’s eyes nearly shattered her heart. Still angry with him for the night before, she did not bother to apologize. Instead, she turned away from him and ran to the stable. She did not expect him to follow her, but when she turned around to speak to one of the stable hands, there he was readying his own horse.

Seeing her looking at him, he met her eyes. “I am goin’ whether ye like it or nae.” Stepping up onto his horse, he rode out into the courtyard beyond. Once Amelia, Lucas, and Father Jacob had their horses, they set out to where the young lad had said the rents were attacked.

* * *

The horses smelled the blood before the corpses were in sight. Ron leaned forward and whispered soothingly to his mount, patting its neck. When they found the men, they dismounted and walked forward, inspecting the area as they moved. Ron walked over to the nearest corpse to look at the arrow shaft that was sticking out of its torso. Birds of prey had already descended upon the bodies pecking out the eyeballs leaving gaping dark bloody holes in their place. A cry of distress from Amelia made him turn and gather her into his arms to shield her from the sight. “Dinnae look, lass,” he murmured into her hair. “Remember them as they were, nae as they are now.” He could feel her struggling to control her emotions.

Straitening her shoulders, she stepped out of the protection of his arms and made herself look at the damage that had been done. “Whomever has done this will pay with their lives,” she ground out between her teeth.

“’Tis Rossell,” Lucas growled. “I would swear tae it.” He motioned for the men that he had brought with him to gather the bodies and take them back to the castle.

Just as the men bent down to wrap the bodies, Ron heard the slightest sound of a whistle. He recognized it immediately and at the last instant wrapped his body around Amelia’s. The arrow sliced through the air and struck him in the arm. The pain was searing, causing his vision to blur and his body to tremble. Another arrow struck him in the shoulder before he was able to move Amelia safely behind a tree. Lucas and his men returned fire on their unseen enemy, while Father Jacob moved forward to tend to Ron’s wounds. “I cannae take these out without riskin’ further damage,” the priest informed Amelia as they ducked to avoid being struck themselves. “He needs a surgeon.”

“I will be fine,” Ron argued, his head becoming quite dizzy from the sudden loss of blood.

“Haud yer wheesht,” Amelia instructed him, examining the wounds herself.

“Let me fight,” Ron grumbled, attempting to get to his feet.

Amelia pressed a hand to his chest to stop him from moving. “The only way that I am letting ye up off o’ this ground is tae take ye back to the castle tae tend yer wounds.”

Lucas fought his way over to them, avoiding the hail of arrows as best he could. “How is the lad?”

“He has been hit twice,” Father Jacob informed him, showing him the broken shafts sticking out of Ron’s arm and shoulder.

“I can fight,” Ron insisted. “Let me up.”