Page 24 of Awoken
Leanna stared, her breath choking. A wave of dizziness slammed into her. She couldn’t believe what she’d just witnessed. She’d known MacKinnon was a brute, yet she’d never imagined he’d murder a priest. Frozen to the spot, she merely gaped at him while he stepped down from the raised platform before the altar. Crimson splattered his pristine white léine, and he clutched the bloodied dirk in one hand.
“I need another priest,” MacKinnon barked, turning his attention to where Carr Broderick stood next to Drew MacKinnon. Like Leanna, the pair of them stood frozen after the clan-chief’s vicious display. “Go find me one, Broderick.”
A long silence followed, and when Broderick replied, his voice held a wary tone. “There are no other priests nearby … I will have to travel to the Frasers and bring one from there.”
“I don’t care where ye get him,” MacKinnon snarled. “Just find me another man of the cloth and drag the bastard here.”
Black spots danced before Leanna’s eyes, her dizziness intensifying. Digging her fingernails into her palms, she tore her attention from the clan-chief, her gaze sweeping over the rows of retainers who’d just witnessed this appalling scene. Many of them appeared pale and shaken. For the first time since meeting her, Leanna saw that Drew MacKinnon’s face was strained and her gaze haunted. Across from Drew, Ross Campbell’s face had gone rigid with shock.
Campbell met Leanna’s eye for the first time since she’d entered the kirk. A long look passed between them.
“Please,” Leanna whispered, her voice breaking. “Help me.”
“Silence, woman.” MacKinnon’s voice lashed across the aisle, and she cringed. His face had gone red, the veins on his neck standing out. “Or I’ll take my hand to ye.” His attention then swiveled to Campbell, his grey eyes hard.
The warrior stared back.
The moment stretched out, before MacKinnon’s lip curled. The stare was a challenge. He was defying Campbell to intervene on her behalf—yet Ross didn’t. Satisfied his servant still knew his place, the clan-chief swiveled, gesturing to two warriors standing a few yards away. “Clean up this mess.” MacKinnon glanced back at his right-hand, his gaze dismissive. “Campbell … take my betrothed back to her chamber.”
Leanna walked stiffly out of the kirk at Ross Campbell’s side. She couldn’t fail to notice that he kept a tight hold upon her arm.
Stepping outside, the warmth of the sun bathed Leanna’s face, calming her racing heart. But her body still trembled in the aftermath of what she’d just witnessed.
The clan-chief had just cut down a priest in cold blood.
“MacKinnon will burn in hell for what he’s just done,” she hissed to her escort as he propelled her down the path toward the north gate.
“Most likely,” Campbell replied, his voice flat.
Leanna glanced his way to see that the warrior was staring straight ahead, his handsome face set in hard lines. He looked furious—but it was most likely with her.
“How could ye let him kill Father Athol?” she demanded, her voice rising.
“I didn’t expect MacKinnon to do that,” Campbell growled. “None of us did.”
“At least the priest stood up to him!”
“Aye.” Campbell glanced her way, his dark eyebrows knitted together in a deep scowl. “And the man bled out on his own altar for the trouble. Athol was a fool … he should have done as he was told.”
“Just like ye?” Leanna snarled back, a hot tide of fury sweeping over her. “Just like everyone else in this broch?”
“MacKinnon rules here,” Campbell countered. “His word is law.”
“Ye are all scared of him.”
Campbell’s grip on her arm tightened just a fraction, the only sign that her words affected him.
“Ye are as bad as he is.” Leanna struggled against his grip. They’d entered the fort and were circuiting the edge of the bailey toward the broch’s entrance. “A man without a conscience … without a moral compass!”
Campbell continued to hold his tongue. Ignoring her struggles, he hauled Leanna up the steps and into the broch. And although she continued to berate and insult him, all the way to her bed-chamber, he refused to engage with her.
His face—the last thing she saw before he slammed the door shut—was grim, his dark-blue eyes narrowed.
Leanna stared at the closed door, her breathing hitching. Once again, she was wasting her time. Campbell had seen MacKinnon’s behavior in the kirk, and yet he still stood by him. That was all the proof she needed that the man had no integrity at all.
Alone in the bed-chamber, Leanna wrapped her arms around her chest, in an attempt to stave off the panic that now clasped long fingers about her throat and slowly squeezed.
There was no escape from this cell. She’d heard Campbell bolt the door after he’d shut her in, and the single window was too high and narrow for her to see out of, let alone climb through.
