Page 80 of Kilted Hate

But Domhnall hesitated, working out in his head how quickly he could take these men, for there were only four of them.

“I know what you are thinking,” Reginald continued. “You’re imagining, with your rather unnatural skills, that we are only four, and that you can overpower us with ease. And you would be right. But as my friend there just stated, we have something you want.”

“Katherine,” Domhnall breathed, the realization of the situation becoming perfectly clear. “But she’s yer sister. Ye wouldnae harm her.”

Reginald shrugged, his facial expression declaring that those words meant little to him. “She has failed me enough. Besides,it’s clear whose side she’s now on. She has betrayed me, she has betrayed our family, and she has betrayed her country.”

“How?” Domhnall said, now slowly standing at Reginald’s beckoning.

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, it’s not your concern. If we do not return by the end of this day, the men guarding Katherine will slit her throat, and you will never see her again. That will be your doing,my laird,” he said, his last words full of condescension.

Glancing to one of the others, he flicked his head toward the laird. “Bind him.”

The man approached with trepidation, but Domhnall could not fight back. Not knowing that Katherine’s life was on the line. He didn’t even know where she was being kept to be able to run and save her, and thus, what choice did he have? He had to be smart about this. He would let them lead him to where they were keeping Katherine, and then, he would destroy them.

Letting himself be bound, the group then travelled for quite some time until eventually, an abandoned house came into view. Domhnall couldn’t remember the family that once lived there, and he couldn’t help but wonder if his scouts had managed to get this far out when they had been searching originally.

Clearly not.

Or perhaps, this was a new house Reginald and his men had discovered since their escape from the guards they had killed in Drynoch.

Helping Domhnall off the horse, Reginald came up close and snarled in his ear.

“The same rules apply. Try anything, and your beloved Katherine will be your beloved dead Katherine.”

Domhnall did not doubt the man’s word. Clearly, he was deranged, but then, evil did that to a person. His anger at his sister’s betrayal of king, country and family emanated from him and was almost palpable.

Shoving him through the house, one of the soldiers opened a door and led the way down a set of stairs to the cellar below. The place looked like any old cellar would, with wooden crates, cobwebs, old sacks, and broken bottles.

At least now, he knew where Katherine was, though he had not yet laid eyes upon her. But there was no other place she could be. She hadn’t been left in the village, and besides, Reginald clearly needed her to blackmail him to do as he was told. Reginald was aware of his mighty speed and strength. He had probably witnessed it that day when his men had attacked him in the village. The man wasn’t going to risk unleashing such a display on this occasion, and he knew Katherine was his weakness.

The men untied the rope that bound his wrists, and, pressing him against the wall, used more rope to bind him again, thistime, attaching the ropes to rings imbedded into the stone wall behind him. He pulled at them tentatively. If need be, he could likely pull those rings right out of their mounting point.

“Don’t even think about it, “Reginald growled. “I will have no reservations in carrying out my threat. In fact, my sister is already dead to me.”

Domhnall’s eyes widened at that remark.

“Oh, yes. It is true,” Reginald replied upon seeing Domhnall’s reaction. “She is a turncoat and a traitor. She now serves only one purpose.”

The man didn’t need to explain what he meant. Domhnall knew he would not be bound to a wall if Reginald did not have Katherine as a weapon. In fact, without her, all of them would be dead already.

Reginald slowly removed his jacket, folding it precisely and hanging it over a chair, before turning his attention back to Domhnall.

“And now,” he said, rolling up his sleeves and picking up a thick piece of wood, “you will suffer as I have suffered.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Astrange flickering light danced in front of her closed eyelids, and when Katherine finally managed to open her eyes, all she could see was the dancing flame of the candle. It cast long shadows across the room, and finally shaking herself to full wakefulness, she realized she had slept right through the day. From the lack of sunlight outside, she knew dusk had long arrived, and night was soon approaching.

Pushing herself up from the mattress, she stretched, and in doing so, she noted the plate sat on the dresser. On it was a chunk of bread and some cold meats. Beside it sat a cup, and on closer inspection, for she lifted it and sniffed it, she discovered wine inside.

She took a light sip, for her throat was dry. Thinking about the last time she had actually eaten or drunk, she recalled that it was sometime the day before, when they had traveled to the tavern. It was as she was taking another sip, that she heard faint cries. For a second, she thought she was imagining it, but turning herear, and trying to listen even more attentively, she heard them again.

Deep, agonizing cries from someone clearly suffering a great amount of pain.

“Oh, God, no,” she cried, her pulse quickening as she realized who might be making such dreadful sounds.

Putting the cup back where she found it, she hurried across the room to her door. Gently, and as quietly as she could, she opened it and peeked outside. The hallway was dark, but as her eyes adjusted to it, she could see no one else about.

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