Page 3 of Wicked Kilted Highlander

CHAPTERTWO

Lara traced the cracks in the stone walls with her eyes, counting each one for the thousandth time. The dim torchlight never changed, marking the endless passage of identical days trapped within these featureless walls. The cell seemed to grow smaller each day, the walls closing in as Lara's hope faded. Insects crawled among the cracks in the damp stone, feasting on mold and fallen crumbs. Water dripped constantly from the ceiling, pooling in a moldy puddle by the waste bucket in the corner.

Lara spent her days perched on the edge of the thin mattress, too exhausted to move yet unable to sleep. Her skin had grown pale from lack of sunlight, her thin frame weakened by the meager rations she was given. The guards' jeers and slurs rang in her ears, chipping away at her crumbling resolve.

On her worst days, Lara imagined clawing at the stone walls until her nails cracked and bled. Only the memory of open skies and green hills kept her tethered to consciousness, though the memories seemed to fade with each passing day.

There was nothing but the bed and a few tattered books. Most of the guards were callous, but one older guard had shown her kindness. Lara noticed how he stealthily slipped her the books, glancing furtively up and down the hallway before shutting the cell door quietly behind him.

His voice was hushed as he muttered, "Something tae keep your mind busy. Dinnae let the others see." Lara handled the fragile pages with care, gently smoothing out folded corners and wiping dust from the worn covers. They were her only escape from this place, transporting her to faraway lands and adventures through their pages.

Slowly Lara rose from the bed and walked cautiously to the massive door. She placed her ear against the cold metal, listening for any sign that the guards had noticed her movement.

Silence.

She slipped her hand under the thin mattress and withdrew a worn copy of a book she had read so many times the spine was falling apart.

As she sat cross-legged on the dusty floor, chapters and characters floated through her mind, briefly transporting her from the prison cell. Lara devoured every word, committing passages to memory like a mantra to ward off the oppressive solitude. A familiar loud clang interrupted her reading. The slot at the bottom of the door swung open, and a metal tray was shoved through, carrying the day's meager meal.

Lara shoved the book under her thin dress and pressed it against her stomach, trying to hide the bulge with her arms. As she stood to collect the food tray, the guard's suspicious gaze raked over her. Lara's heart hammered as she met his eyes briefly, hoping her fear did not show. Lara breathed an inward sigh of relief when he didn’t seem to suspect anything and moved to eat, desperate to remain invisible to the guards watching her imprisonment.

The guard grunted. "Hurry up in there, would ye? I dinnae have all day."

Lara ate as quickly as she could, hunger gnawing at her belly.

The guard's nightstick rapped loudly against the cell door. "Quickly!" he barked.

Lara stiffened at his harsh tone and quickly swallowed the last mouthful of bread. Her hands trembled as she slid the tray back through the slot.

The guard scoffed. "Bet ye're missing yer cozy hills and bagpipes. Too bad ye'll be rotting in here forever."

Lara balled her hands into fists, her bitten nails digging into her palms. She bowed her head to hide the tear welling in her eye, determined not to give in to her sorrow.

The guard sighed irritably. "Ach, quit yer moping." With that, he slid the slot shut and stalked away, his footsteps fading down the corridor.

Lara was left alone in the chilling silence once more, the guard's harsh words stinging. Curling up on her thin cot, she pulled out the tattered book again and began to read, hoping its pages would offer more kindness than the guard had shown.

After a few pages, she heard a tiny scratching sound. A small rat scurried out from a crack in the stone wall and stopped to nibble on some crumbs on the floor. Lara froze, not daring to move or make a sound. She hated rats, with their beady eyes and twitching noses. But she knew any noise could scare it into attacking her.

The rat looked up and saw Lara staring at it. It tilted its head with curiosity then went back to eating. Lara slowly turned the page, trying to focus on her reading and ignore the tiny rodent.

The animal finished its meal and started wandering around the cell, investigating Lara's few belongings. It ran across her blanket then ran out of sight.

Lara could hear the rodent scurrying in the dark. Her heart pounded as panic crept in. What if it came onto on her bed while she slept? She thought of the guard's cruel words and shuddered at the thought of calling for help.

Gripping her book, Lara prayed the rat would leave on its own. She tried reading again but couldn't focus, anxiously listening for any movement. She strained to hear the guards’ whispered conversation outside her cell. Snippets of words drifted through the small door slot.

"…murdered nearly a week past. Keir's dead."

"Violent death… a MacDonald I heard."

The guards moved out of earshot, and Lara sank back on her thin bed, clutching the rough blanket.

So, Laird Keir MacNeil was dead. That snake who had tormented her during her long captivity, depriving her of food and water for days, laughing as she weakened and begged for mercy. The cruel glint in his eye as he inflicted every minor punishment he could devise was carved deep in her heart.

The rodent scurrying in the corner now went unnoticed. All Lara felt was savage glee that Keir was dead, that his reign of terror over her had at last been brought to an end, albeit not by her own hand.

Curling up on the thin mattress, Lara allowed herself a moment of vicious satisfaction. Keir was gone, and for now that was enough.