Page 77 of Surrendering to her Highland Captor
23
A TRAITOR’S RECKONING
It had seemed such a shame to close her eyes against what was sure to be a beautiful morning. The sun was peeking out from behind the clouds, turning the sky from a rich orange to a pale steel blue. The rays landed on her cheeks, warming them. It was the nicest thing she had felt in days. She knew without needing her sight that the mountains would be coated in snow, glimmering in the morning light. She had spent her entire life admiring the beauty of the lands that surrounded her home. It felt only right that she would die outside with it.
Yet, despite the welcoming weather and the views she had not been able to enjoy for years, Taryn could not bring herself to pry her eyes open. She knew that the moment she saw the noose that would rob her of air, she would also lose all courage. So her eyes stayed firmly shut.
Her ears, however, took in every sound, every voice that called out. The entire clan had to have come to see her hang. It was devastating to know that so many relished the idea of her death. She could hear many more people calling for the executioner to do his job already.
Scattered throughout the fray, a few voices of dissent rang out. She heard their pleas for reason and justice to prevail. Their fervor warmed her, knowing that there were some who disagreed with what her uncle and her parents had deemed the best way forward. But despite all their protesting and shouting, she knew there was nothing short of a miracle that would change the Laird’s mind. He had clearly made his decision days ago.
Taryn knew the hanging platform had taken at least that long to construct. And if, in all that time, none of his council and no one else from the clan had managed to convince him that a different way forward was the answer, nothing would. Her last hope that James would return in time to free her, or with some other way to prevent her death, was gone. There would be no saving her now.
Determined not to waste her final moments, Taryn sent her mind to her favorite memories. She longed to be anywhere but the place that she stood. Without a way out, she opted for the next best thing; hiding within her own thoughts. Laura’s brave, bold smile came to mind. The smell of Laura’s home, fabric, and tea and her mother’s cookies. She saw the forest, the moment her arrow landed on the target, the way James’ hands had felt on her waist. Sorcha’s laughter drifted in, followed by Aila’s eyes that were always so warm and welcoming. She heard Arran playing with Christopher and Elsie, seeing who could throw their stones the farthest, while Lachlan watched.
But the moment that lingered the longest in her mind, that comforted her when all the others had faded, was James. She recalled the way his lips had felt pressed against hers. She thought about the heat from his hands that radiated through her skin. Every time they had ridden together, bumping into each other on the saddle. Sunlight seeped through her closed eyes, and she could almost see the brilliant shade of green that James’ eyes were first thing in the morning and when he was angry. Shelonged to see him one last time, to hold him close, to hear him calling her name. She could almost hear it now, dancing on the wind, floating above the fray of the crowd.
“Taryn!”
Against all odds, she smiled. It felt foolish and freeing to find happiness in these last few moments. She hoped that James’ voice would be enough to give her peace as she faced her death.
“Taryn!”
She focused on the sound, growing louder the more she honed in on it. The thrum of the crowd faded away, quieting until all she could hear was James.
“Taryn!”
Impossibly close and clear, Taryn was starting to question what she was imagining, what she was reliving, and what was happening around her. She waited, hoping to hear it one more time, before she forced herself to look. The sound of her name echoed through the courtyard a fourth and final time.
“Taryn! Look at me!”
Her eyes popped open. Ignoring the rope, the scaffold, and the grim looks on her parents’ faces, Taryn started searching the crowd. It seemed so improbable that James would return in her final hour, but her gut screamed at her to look for him anyway.
The silence that now blanketed the crowd hadn’t been her imagination. People had grown quiet, confused, looking at each other and towards the back of the courtyard rather than at her. Her gaze traveled down the length of the courtyard until everything in the world came to a screeching halt.
Tears sprang to her eyes as they locked on the sight of James shoving his way through the crowd. Several paces behind him, soldiers in a tartan that she didn’t recognize poured into the already packed courtyard. Their weapons gleamed in the morning sunshine, nearly blinding her. But she paid them no heed, too entranced at the sight of James racing towards her.
“James,” she sobbed, pure relief coursing through her.
To her right, Laird McGregor shifted forward on his feet, reminding her that nothing was over yet. The executioner, who had been positioned in front of the door pull to her left, moved forward too. Panic threatened to consume her as it had the crowd in front of her. They had finally realized that they were being invaded by an army of some kind and were screaming their terror. Taryn wished she could let out such a sound, one that conveyed all she was feeling, but no noise escaped her.
The executioner moved again, ready to reach for her should Taryn do something as foolish as try to run. He stretched out a black leather gloved hand to grab her and a sword slashed through the air.
“Nay body move.”
She didn’t know how he had managed the feat, but James’ voice carried over the crowd, his order forcing everyone within earshot to freeze. Even her uncle had stopped moving, as though he had been waiting for someone else to take control.
Taryn ached for James to look at her, to talk to her, to promise her that everything would be all right. But his face was etched with determination, his eyes locked on Laird McGregor.
“Ye will put a stop to this madness now,” James demanded, “or I will. And it will be yer death the clan witnesses today, nae hers.”
Shock carried through the air, Taryn, and the rest of the clan alike, in disbelief that anyone would dare to address their leader as defiantly as James had. He kept his sword raised, the tip pointed in her uncle’s direction. Villagers scrambled to get out of James’ way, no one daring to interfere with what he was doing.
“Are ye truly going to betray me, yer Laird, and yer clan for this lass? Is she really worth losing yer home, yer friends, the life ye have kent until now?”
“Of course she is.” His answer came without reservation. “Why do ye think I am here? Do ye think me as foolish as to make idle threats in front of all the McGregors?
“And how do ye plan on following through on yer threat when ye are all the way down there, and I am all the way up here?” Laird McGregor questioned.
