Page 35 of Highlander’s Quest of Desire

“But Bruce-”

“Do me a kindness and head back to the inn,” he interrupted her. “Race back and alert Jimmy and any other men ye find there.”

“Bruce.” Elspeth didn’t understand him. One moment he was vilifying her and her clan, and the next he was sending her out of harm's way while he defended her honor.

“Elspeth,” he turned to her, smiling. “Donnae get caught. Heya!” He struck the length of the reins on his horse's flank and rushed forward to attack.

Elspeth wheeled Willow around, fresh tears marring her vision, and rode back to the inn. But she never made it. While they had been arguing with the men on horseback, more men had sneaked up on them from behind. Elspeth screamed, but it was no use. Men took Willow’s reins from her, and she was lifted off her horse and onto the back of another.

The man behind her was broad and stank of hops. He had a tight grip around her waist. Elspeth tried to twist out of his grasp but to no avail. “Bruce!” she yelled, desperate to hear his voice, to know he was alive and not murdered senselessly trying to defend her.

But he never answered her. Elspeth bit the man’s arm in desperation.

“Yow!” the man cried out and slapped her across the head.

Elspeth lost consciousness.

* * *

The darkness was absolute. A solid mass at first, it then swayed and became large waves, which then dispersed into little flecks of light. Elspeth’s eyes fluttered open. She realized it wasn't the darkness that was swaying but her.

She was lying inside a covered cart. Her hands were tied, as well as her feet, and someone had stuffed a rag in her mouth. Bruce lay unconscious beside her in the same condition.

Elspeth recalled being ambushed by brigands on the road to Falkirk. Panic burst through her, and she strained against her bonds. She needed to get out of here. She needed to find Bruce and make sure he was alright.

The last thing he’d said to her before charging the band of brigands was not to get caught, and she had instantly let him down. If Bruce were dead because of her she would never be able to forgive herself. His dream, his mission to find his heirlooms would be for naught, and that thought crushed her spirit.

She stopped struggling and gave into the tears. Bruce Grant was a mystery to her. He had hurt her with his words, and the very next instant he had taken danger head on for her. Bruce defined what it was to be noble.

But she wouldn’t accept defeat, and she wouldn’t accept that Bruce was gone. He couldn’t be. He was larger than life, he was hot-tempered, and obstinate as a bull. If anyone could have survived that ambush it would be Bruce Grant.

Calming herself as best she could, Elspeth tried to listen to her surroundings, the only sense available to her. The rickety creaking of the cart was the loudest, but she also heard the clopping of horses’ hooves. This told her that they were no longer on a dirt road, but on flagstones.

She tried to discern how many, but she could not. Thinking back, she recalled that there had been six men blocking their way to Falkirk. She could not remember with much accuracy how many had caught her when she had turned to flee to the inn. Elspeth settled on ten. The men weren’t talking, but she could hear the low bubble of a brook nearby, the chatter of women at work, and the shrieks of children at play.

We’re passing through a city, perhaps,she thought.

The whole incident was absurd. Elspeth couldn’t understand why she was still alive. Brigands were known for attacking people on the road, robbing them, and either leaving them helpless and alive, or dead for whoever found them. They were not for kidnapping their victims.

Unless…

Did they know who Elspeth and Bruce were? If they had recognized Bruce for a Laird who had broken out of English prison, it was very much possible they were taking them to a nearby garrison to collect a reward for his recapture.

Elspeth’s heart sank, and fresh tears spilled out of her eyes. It couldn’t end like this!

The cart rolled to a stop. Elspeth gathered her scattered feelings and waited. With a flourish, the cover was removed. Dust flew everywhere, and the midday sun pierced her eyes. She blinked several times, but she couldn’t adjust her eyesight immediately. Rough hands grasped her by the waist and pulled her off the cart.

Through her blinking, watery eyes, she got half a glimpse of a large courtyard before she was frog-marched inside a stone building. The interior was cool and suitably gloomy for her eyes to stop smarting. She tried to twist and look behind her to find Bruce, but the men wrenched her arm to make her face forward.

In her frenzied mind, Elspeth thought she recognized the corridor, but she was so upset and concerned for Bruce she didn’t pay attention. Eventually they came into a large hall, and Elspeth recognized where she was.

She had been in this hall countless times, she had partaken of feasts, and meals here. It was a place of happy memories and merry dances. But her confusion only got stronger.

Why was she here? Why had she been kidnapped and brought to Laird Labert’s castle?