Page 27 of Taken By her Highland Enemy

Chapter Fourteen

Lord Cutler stood unsteadily, his mind still reeling from wine, unable to remove the grin from his face. He had been given two gifts, and finally, after all his troubles, he was being rewarded. The two bloodied men sat in the castle’s main hall, their faces leaned back against the blackened stone wall, breathing hard.

He walked before them, pacing to and fro like an animal ready to charge, but first assessing what he had. “So, you two are from The Scots, are you?”

They did not answer. He did not expect them to. They had been through a bit of a bloody battle. And, people were always stronger when they thought they could put up with torture. “Did you really think you would be able to escape once you got so close to the castle? My men are everywhere, and they are much better trained than you Highlanders.” He paused and faced them. “I thank you for the return of two of our muskets. We lost them at Drumnadrochit, so now I know that you were there.”

He knelt down and put his face next to one of the men, growling into his ear. “It was you and your kind that began the riots, yelling out words of dissent into the air. It was because of you that I lost ten men and a lot of my weaponry. Drumnadrochit will pay for what it has done, but the one who has incited this treasonous behavior will pay the highest price.”

The men followed him with their eyes, but words did not escape their lips. Cutler stood up straight again. He walked towards the fire, a sword in the flames, glowing orange with heat. He smiled. “I already know where the village of The Wanderer is. I can ride there any day I please. But I would like something from you first.”

He walked back to the men, sword in hand, holding it towards them. “Where has he gone, as he is on the move, trying to draw me away from his home? Where are The Scots? I know they are close by; I can feel it in my bones!”

His voice had reached a crescendo, and he yelled these last words up to the broken roof the castle and out into the night sky. The men said nothing. Cutler grinned. “Well, I suppose we will have to play my little game in order for me to get information out of you.”

He placed the tip of the sword on one of the men’s shoulders, and they cried out with pain as the heated metal seared through their clothes and into their flesh. He waited a moment before releasing it.

The man was breathing roughly, but he still did not speak. “I see that my torture is not enough, and neither was the beating my men have given you.”

He turned to the other man and laid the blade upon him as well. The man’s screams were music to his ears. Such beautiful control. They would be sharing their story with him soon enough. Once he released the blade, he roughly picked up one of the men, until the man stood wavering before him, his hands and ankles bound. His breathing picked up.

Pity for one so young. Cutler removed his sword from its sheath and plunged it into the man’s flesh. That made the other man cry out. The stabbed man crumpled to the ground, once Cutler let go of his collar. He turned to the other man. “So, it took the murder of your friend to get you to open your mouth? What is your name? Where are they?”

He narrowed his eyes at the young man and held the bloodied sword aloft. “Or will it take further torture to open your mouth, Highlander?”

The man clenched his jaw. “Kill me if ye so desire. What good am I tae my people if I betray them?”

Cutler grinned. “Ah, do not worry. You will do much good. If nothing else, then you have given me a Scotsman to play with as I choose.

* * *

An icy chill moved through Isabelle’s heart. She tried to scream, but the hand only pressed tighter over her mouth. This is it. This is when I am going to die. She felt heady with the fear of it. It could not be over. Not yet! She pulled on the arm, but it was thick and strong. She felt the lips of the man come close to her ears, and she closed her eyes, wanting this nightmare to be over.

The man simply said, “Shh…lass. I need ye tae keep quiet.” She knew the voice. Her eyes snapped open, and her heart calmed. It was Sean. The hand on her face relaxed, and she turned to look into The Wanderer’s face. She was about to speak, but Sean pulled her out of the light of the fire and towards the woods. She was not afraid any longer, but she was angry that he couldn’t think of any other way to keep her quiet. What in the world was the man thinking?

Once they were behind a clump of trees, he turned back to her. She put her hands on her hips and said, “I should slap you, you know, for giving me the greatest fright of my life! Where is everyone? Why did you have to clap your hand over my mouth like a kidnapper?”

Sean chuckled. “Lass, are we nae true kidnappers? Nae, I suppose nae. Ye have just been out riding with my brother. That is a new and interesting kind of freedom.” Sean eyed her suspiciously, and Isabelle blushed under his knowing gaze.

At that moment, Eamon arrived, his mind searching this way and that until he spotted them. He growled, “What in the bloody hell are ye doing, Sean? I almost died of a heart attack, wondering what happened tae Isabelle.”

Sean turned a stern face towards his brother. “We had tae protect ourselves in some way. With all of ye gone and nae word from Gareth or Donovan, once dawn broke, we knew we had tae get out of sight until someone returned. We are waiting in the trees.” He motioned above, and sure enough, if she squinted her eyes enough, she could spot the dark wool and the muted kilt colors of the other men. They made no sound.

Eamon replied. “I see.” He brushed his hand over his chin, and Isabelle knew he was attempting to find the right words to say.

“Sean, where is Arya?”

“Do not worry. She is with Dirk in one of the branches.” Isabelle’s heart calmed.

Eamon finally broached the subject. “Brother, Isabelle, and I found Cutler’s camp.”

“Ye did?” Sean’s eyes were wide with interest. He slapped a hand on Eamon’s shoulder, and Isabelle stepped out from between them. “Where is it? Where are the men?”

Eamon swallowed. “They have been taken. We heard the soldiers bragging about it outside the castle. Cutler has Gareth and Donovan.”

Sean knelt to the ground and yelled out, despite his earlier warnings to keep quiet. Isabelle could hear the scrambling of the other men as they descended from the trees. Sean said in a low voice, “Then it must mean certain death for them.”

Eamon was silent, and Isabelle stepped in. “It could mean that for my father is a ruthless man, but I have hope that he will wish to use them to get information about you. He will need someone to guide him to you. He would certainly spare your friends for that purpose, and then once we meet them, you can battle them as you originally intended.” Her words floated out into the space created by the circle of men. They watched her for a moment, almost warily, and did not respond.

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