Page 10 of Highland Treasure (Highland Brides 9)

Straightening her shoulders, Elysande tried to brace herself against the memories as she told them, “He started with Mother, tearing her from my arms and shaking her so violently I feared he would break her neck. The whole time he was yelling, ‘Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?’”

The words were like a chant in Elysande’s head. It was all the man had said at first, shrieking it over and over again, spittle flying from his mouth as he roared that question.

“When he stopped to let her speak, some of Mother’s shock seemed to have left her and emotion was setting in. Mostly terror. She cried that she did not know what he was looking for. If he would only tell her what it was he wanted, she would tell him where it was if she knew. But he just shook her again and snarled, ‘Do not play that game with me, Mairghread! You must know. Tell me where it is!’

“When that did not get the answer he wanted, he began to break her fingers one after the other. Pausing between each, he would demand, ‘Where is it?’ and then break the next as she cried and begged him to stop or just tell her what it was.”

Her mouth tightened as she recalled her mother’s helplessness in the face of de Buci’s strength. “I tried to stop him. I rushed forward, intending to hit him, or jump on his back, or something. But his soldier caught me around the waist, scooped me up and dragged me back. He then held me there, and all I could do was watch and scream and beg him to let her be, but he just continued, moving on to her other hand when he finished with the first. And then once he ran out of fingers he began to shake her again.”

Elysande lowered her head unhappily. “I heard it when her neck broke, and saw her go limp in his hold. I feared she was dead, but then her eyes opened and she looked at me. But nothing else was moving. She no longer raised her hands to try to fend off his blows and she was not standing under her own power. He was holding her up like a child’s doll as he punched her. She hardly seemed to even feel the blows anymore unless they were to her face. But in his rage he did not seem to notice.

“I thought it would go on forever, but finally he just let her drop to the ground, kicked her a couple of times with frustration and then stood glaring at her and panting heavily. But after a moment he followed her gaze to me and smiled nastily.

“‘Perhaps if you will not tell me where ’tis to save yourself, you will to save your daughter,’ he said, and I saw the fear enter my mother’s eyes, along with helplessness and grief and apology. I knew then she really had no idea what he was looking for, and she could do nothing to stop him from doing to me what he’d done to her.”

Lifting her head, Elysande turned to peer toward the blur that was Rory Buchanan and said, “I really thought that I would end up in the same shape as my mother then, and I was terrified. But he had managed to wear himself out beating her, and rather than grab me and start all over again, he threw himself into one of the chairs by the fire and ordered the soldier holding me to beat me instead. Fortunately, he did not seem to have the stomach for it.”

“The hell he didn’t,” Rory growled, sounding furious. “I’ve seen . . . yer face,” he finished after a slight hesitation that made her think he’d meant to say something other than her face.

Elysande briefly considered the possibility that Rory and her men had arrived sooner than she’d realized down at the riverbank, and had seen more than she’d thought. But since there was little she could do if they had, she pushed the worry away. “Aye. He beat me badly, but broke no bones. Not even a finger. I think he held back on his punches and kicks too. And while he punched me in the face several times, he avoided my temples and head. Also, when de Buci ordered him to throw me to the ground and kick me, he kept those kicks to my back, buttocks and legs. The only injury I took to my head was when he threw me to the ground. My head bounced off the floor, but that was probably an accident. He never hit my head himself.”

Elysande had been grateful for that. She’d curled into a ball on the floor, her hands over her head to try to protect it. But it hadn’t been necessary. He’d never once kicked her in the head.

Smiling wryly to herself that she would feel gratitude for a man who had beat her so badly, Elysande lowered her gaze to the tips of her slippers again. “De Buci eventually grew tired of watching. Or perhaps he was just impatient that it was getting no results. My mother had lain weeping throughout, and eventually I became so insensate that I could not feel the blows anymore and stopped screaming. I was very close to unconsciousness when he called a halt to the proceedings and ordered me to be thrown into the dungeon. Even so I heard the threats he yelled at my mother as I was dragged away. He would give her time to consider what he might do to the both of us next if she did not tell him where it was. Perhaps he’d let his men rape us, or start cutting off limbs, or burn my face so no man would look upon me . . .”

After a brief pause, Elysande shrugged. “Several other rather nasty options followed before I was so far from the great hall that I could not hear him anymore. Or perhaps I just lost consciousness. I do not recall being carried into the cell they kept me in. The next time I woke was the day Betty came for me. She managed to sneak the keys from the guard and get me out of there without waking him. I still do not know how.”

“Lady Mairghread had her take your guard his food and put a sleeping potion in his drink,” Tom explained.

“Oh,” Elysande breathed, thinking she wished she’d known that at the time. It would have been less stressful to her. She’d spent the entire time terrified the man would wake and catch them. Shrugging, she continued. “Betty helped me to the secret passage and up to my parents’ chamber. Mother was in bed.” She paused as the image of her mother flashed through her mind, alive still, but so pale and weak. She’d been unable to move anything below the neck, but was still able to talk, though she appeared to be having trouble with her breathing and swallowing. Elysande had known, or at least feared, she wouldn’t last long.

“Mother’s first words to me after greeting me were ‘the Buchanans,’” she admitted, glancing from Alick to Rory and then keeping her gaze on the older brother as she told him, “She said you were a healer, and a friend to our kin the Sinclairs. She wanted me to come to you for aid getting to them. She then told me that Simon and Tom were still alive and outside the wall. She’d had Betty pack clothes, coin and food for our journey before the maid had rescued me from the dungeon, then sent her to fetch the men. But while we waited for them, she needed me to write messages for her to both you and the Sinclair.”

Elysande paused then to peer curiously at Simon and Tom when they released small “ahs” of sound as if she’d just explained something they’d wondered about. Supposing they’d wondered about the written messages when her fingers were broken, she explained, “Mother dictated the messages and I sealed them with her ring. She then insisted I change into a boy’s breeches and tunic and don a fresh dress over them for the journey. I was in a lot of pain, and moving about just increased it. I managed the task, but only just, before collapsing beside the bed.”

That last part was a lie. Or at least a lie of omission. She’d left out that she’d argued with her mother the entire time, trying to convince her to come with them, pointing out that if this Rory Buchanan was such a grand healer, perhaps he could help her. But her mother had refused to even consider it.

“No one can help me, love, and you know that,” she’d said. “’Tis fine. I am going to be with your father. You are the only reason I still live. I must see to your safety ere I can rest.”

Sighing, Elysande continued. “I woke when Tom arrived and picked me up. And I’m afraid I caused a bit of a kerfuffle that could have got us caught.” She paused and turned her face toward the two English soldiers with an apologetic expression they couldn’t possibly see through the veil. Tom had stifled her cries with a hand over her mouth. If he hadn’t, and the guard she suspected was in the hall had heard . . .

“I am sorry for that,” she said finally. “But I could not leave my mother there so weak and defenseless. De Buci had left her alone because she had been feigning unconsciousness since that first night. He had apparently tried to rouse her several times each day with blows to her stomach and such, but Mother said she could not feel the blows, and so continued to feign unconsciousness by merely keeping her eyes closed. She worried he was growing impatient, however, and she did not think he would leave me be in the dungeons for much longer. She feared he would take those frustrations out on me soon and I needed to go or I would be dead right next to her.”

Elysande lowered her eyes to her slippers again. “I knew she was right. Still, I could not just leave her.” She breathed out slowly. “Apparently she had feared as much and had prepared ahead of time for it. When I refused to leave, she told Betty she was thirsty and it was time for her drink. Only after Mother had emptied the chalice Betty held to her mouth did she admit to me that it had held poison.”

Elysande’s throat constricted and she had to swallow several times before continuing. “I was horrified. ’Tis a sin to take your own life. But she assured me that she felt God would understand. She had done it to save me and she was dying anyway, and had just sped it along. She then said that if she was wrong about God’s thoughts on the matter, and was banished to purgatory for the act, then she considered it worth the sacrifice so long as it got me away from de Buci. She wanted me to leave at once, find you, stay alive and get to Sinclair. She said it was the last thing I could do for her as a daughter: to live, marry and have children to love and treasure as much as she loved and treasured me.”

Elysande broke off then, fighting the tears that were trying to swamp her.

“Lady Mairghread died minutes later,” Simon continued for her. “And Tom scooped up Lady Elysande again and we slipped into the secret passage, using it to get back out beyond the wall. We thought we would be taking her on one of our horses, but Betty and Eldon had managed to arrange for her mare to be hooked to a cart and brought out.”

“How the devil did they manage that?” Rory asked with surprise beside her.

There was a moment of silence before anyone spoke, and this time it was Tom who answered. “The blood-soaked rushes in the great hall were apparently starting to stink and at dinner that night de Buci had finally had enough of the stench. He ordered them taken out beyond the wall and burned at once. It took several trips to haul it away. The servants had been working on it since the evening meal and were still working on it at that late hour, so Betty and Eldon had one of the carts lined with fresh hay, attached Lady Elysande’s mare to it and then filled it with the dirty rushes and the boy rode it out along with the others. He went with them to where the dirty rushes were to be burned, but rather than return inside the walls with the others, he broke off from the line of carts and took it to where our horses waited instead. Fortunately, it was a moonless night and his defection seemed to go unnoticed, so we placed Lady Elysande and our bags and furs in the cart and headed to Monmouth.”

“And you know the rest,” Elysande said into the silence that fell. “Simon took you the message my mother dictated, you came to meet us and now we are on the way to Sinclair.” Swallowing, she added, “But to answer your earlier question, I do not know if we should expect trouble. Mother expected de Buci to think we would be headed for court and the king, ’tis why she sent us north instead. She hoped I could remain safely at Sinclair while a message about all of this was delivered to court,” she explained, and then frowned and added, “But I am troubled by the soldiers you said arrived at Monmouth as you were leaving.”

“Does de Buci ken ye’re related to the Sinclairs and might go to them?” Alick asked, drawing her gaze his way.

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