Page 99 of Cottage in the Mist
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“So how do you want to handle this?” Iain asked as he and Bram knelt with Ranald, Fergus and Jeff in the woods near the back wall at Dunbrae. Clouds had obscured the sun, leaving the day cold and gray. Tree branches arched over their heads, rattling in the wind. Just ahead of them, Dunbrae’s stone tower gleamed eerily silver in the faded light.
Bram forced himself to focus on the task at hand, but his heart remained centered on the tower and the woman conceivably locked inside. Alec’s man Dougan had found tracks indicating that the men who’d taken Lily had indeed come this way. He prayed that whatever his uncle’s plans, Lily was still alive.
Knowing they couldn’t be more than an hour behind, they’d pushed their horses to the limits. But now faced with the enormity of all that had happened here—his father’s death, his clan’s demise and his wife’s kidnapping—Bram’s rage knew no boundaries. He’d make his uncle pay if it was the last thing he did.
“If you’re going to help Lily,” Ranald said, “you canna give in to your anger.”
“Ranald’s right,” Iain agreed, laying a hand on Bram’s shoulder. “You’ll need a clear head if we’re to make this work.”
They’d agreed that Alec and the bulk of their forces would attack the tower head on, pulling Malcolm’s men into the battle and giving Bram and company the opportunity to sneak through the back gate. It was a risk, since Frazier knew about the entrance, but Bram was betting that he hadn’t had time to secure it properly. Now they were simply waiting for a signal that Alec and the rest of the men had engaged.
“My head is clear.” Bram closed his fingers around the hilt of his claymore as he answered his cousin. “All I ask is that you leave my uncle to me.”
Ranald exchanged a glance with Iain.
“What?” Bram snapped, his gaze moving between the two of them, his patience wearing thin.
Iain sighed. “Only that your attention is better spent on rescuing your wife. ’Tis a far better thing than obsessing about vengeance.”
“But Malcolm has to pay for what he’s done to me and mine,” Bram growled.
“Aye, that he does,” Ranald agreed. “But Iain’s right, Lily’s safety is far more important.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” His words were spoken through clenched teeth. “I would ne’er do anything that would put her in danger. But that doesn’t mean I canna be the one to take my uncle down.”
Iain held up a hand. “I’m just saying you need to be sure you don’t let your anger get in the way.”
“And how was it with you and Davidson when he hadyourwife?” Bram asked, his anger now directed at his cousin. “Did you just ask him to let her go all nice and polite like?”
“Nay. I strung him up and killed him. And if I could have done it a dozen times more, I would have, believe me. So I knowwhat you’re feeling. But I also know what could be happening in there.” A dark shadow of memory crossed his face. “And if in an effort to hurt you, Malcolm has hurt Lily, then she’s going to need you more than you need revenge.”
Fear threatened his resolution and he shook his head to banish it. “I’ll deal with what we find when we find it. But unless I say otherwise, Malcolm is mine.”
“Fine,” Iain said. “Have it your way. I’m only here to help.”
As quickly as it came Bram’s anger at his cousin vanished. This wasn’t Iain’s fault. Any of it. “I know. I dinna mean to snap.”
“Under the circumstances, ’tis to be expected,” Iain replied.
“Listen,” Jeff called, cocking his head toward the front of the tower.
Above the rustling of leaves, the blood curdling cries of battle sounded. Horses screaming. Men charging. Metal clanging against metal.
“Alec has begun the attack,” Fergus noted. “Best we get on with it then. Use his sacrifice to good end.”
Bram nodded and motioned their little band forward. He led the way across the uneven ground between the edge of the forest and the tower’s wall. As with the other side, the gate here was also obscured by vegetation. Using both hands, he pulled it out of the way and then pulled on the rusted handle of the iron gate.
It refused to budge, and for a moment he feared Frazier had remembered the entrance and locked the gate. But then Ranald added his strength to Bram’s and the gate screeched wildly and swung open. They stood for a moment at the opening in the wall, waiting to see if the noise had alarmed Malcolm’s men, but it seemed that the din of battle had obscured the sound.
Bram rushed through the gate and came to an abrupt stop. The great front portcullis hung drunkenly from one chain, the wood splintered and broken. Alec had made good on his promise to breach the walls, but even as Bram felt a surge of triumphhe was stabbed with pain. Dunbrae was his home—had been his home.
But unless they won the day it would be true no longer.
The inner bailey was full of fighting men, the smell of blood and battle filling the yard. Light flickered amongst them, almost as if it were following in their wake. Bram moved forward, claymore raised, dodging a thrust here, a parry there. Ranald and Iain had spread out to flank him, Jeff and Fergus taking up the rear. They moved like a wedge, cutting through the fighting men as they edged around to the front of the tower.
It was only when they had gained the front courtyard that Bram realized what the flickering was. Fire. The tower was on fire. It raced up the wooden steps that led to the door. And he could see more flames thrusting out of the windows, black smoke spiraling into the windswept sky. To his left he could see Alec and Dougan, the two men fighting together, handily taking out all who dared to challenge them.
