Page 16 of Highlander’s Devious Ally

“Yes, M'Laird?” he asked eagerly.

“I need you to do something for me,” Jock said sternly, “something very important, and I need you to keep very quiet about it. It is a big secret, and you know what will happen to you if you do not keep a secret! Do you understand?”

“Aye, M'Laird,” he replied, his eyes wide and terrified. “I will dae onythin’ for ye.”

Jock gave him his instructions, and Findlay shuffled off to obey them. Jock turned his attention back to Fergus then said, “Do you think two dozen will be enough?”

“Against six?” Fergus asked in disbelief. “I think the odds are slightly in our favor, M'Laird.”

“I want her today, Fergus, so ask the Captain of the Garrison to organize it, will you? I have other things to do.”

Fergus gave a slight bow and hurried off. Jock smiled. He liked to be obeyed. He went to the fire and warmed his hands, smiling with grim glee. He was going to enjoy this. Revenge was sweet.

Ailith knew that she would have to go out that day to meet a ship at the harbor, but she was not too nervous since she knew that two of the guards were coming with her. The road into the village was a winding one, but very pretty, commanding a view of the sea and going through several stands of pine trees under which a mist of bluebells was still growing.

As soon as they entered the sunlight they saw heather growing in pink meads all over the hillside, interspersed with bright lemon yellow gorse, their colors singing against each other in a glorious cacophony.

Ailith stopped her horse to gaze at it and at the broad blue horizon of the sea. She never got tired of this view, even though she had seen it every day for most of her adult life. She was just about to urge her horse on when a leather-clad hand clamped over her mouth, giving her no chance to scream.

“Ailie,” said a familiar, sneering voice in her ear, “you look very pretty today. Is that for Laird Stevenson? Is he a good lover?” Jock took his hand away from her mouth and grasped her around the waist to lift her off her horse. She looked around to see where the two guards were, but they were lying immobile on the ground, and she had no idea whether they were alive or dead. Jock had dozens of men with him, all armed to the teeth, so he had made short work of them.

“I have not lain with him, Jock,” she replied angrily. “He is an honorable man who would never take advantage of me.”

“Why were you in his castle last night, then?” Jock asked scathingly. “Talking?”

“Not that it is any of your business,” she replied haughtily, “I was very upset when I left you, and I was scared to go home in case you were there waiting to waylay me. I was going to stay in the village but Lyall met me on the way and I told him what had happened. He thought I would be safer with him.”

“I am sure he did,” Jock replied sarcastically. “And I expect he thought he had gone to heaven—a beautiful woman like you in his arms.”

“I told you, we are not lovers!” she screamed at him.

He gripped her wrists so that she could not move, while his eyes gleamed with malicious triumph. “You are still a virgin?”

She stared at him. “Why does it matter to you, Jock?” she asked. “I am not going to marry you. I told you that. And I do not believe in curses.”

He smiled a smooth, evil smile. “Oh, yes you are, my dear,” he whispered, “whether you like it or not.”

He turned her by forcing her arm around her back and pushing it as far as it would go. It was painful, but she gritted her teeth and said nothing. He let the arm go then forced her onto her horse again, then had one of his men tie her hands together.

“Where are we going?” she asked fearfully, her voice trembling.

“Somewhere pleasant,” Jock replied. “You will like it, I promise.”

When Jock said the words “I promise,” Ailith’s heart skipped a beat. She knew that wherever they were going, it would decidedly NOT be pleasant.

Indeed it was not. The cottage stood under a stand of dark pine trees. It was covered in moss and looked as if it had grown out of the forest floor. However, its stone walls were sturdy and it had a thick thatched roof which had somehow managed to survive the elements. It had only two windows, one on each side of the door, which were tightly shuttered and bolted from the outside. The thick wooden door had a huge bolt on it too, so that whatever—or whoever—was in there would have absolutely no hope of escape.

Hands still tied, she was led inside and stood next to the window, looking at it carefully. Not a chink of light escaped from around the shutters, and she realized that once the door closed it would be utterly dark. She shivered with fear and cold. Even though it was the end of summer and the middle of the day, the cottage was freezing.

There was a thin mattress with a blanket lying on the floor, which was covered in dirty straw, a bucket, and a few candles. She sighed with relief; at least she would have some light. Next to the candles was a jug of water, half a loaf of bread, and a bowl of thin porridge. Surely this could not be her only food for the day?

“Are you imprisoning me here?” she asked incredulously.

“Well, that is your choice,” Jock said quietly. “You may marry me and never have to stay in this place, or refuse and you will stay here till you change your mind.”

She was horrified. “Even if I could change my mind, how could imprisoning me help?”

He shrugged as if he did not even listen to her point. “Well, Ailie, if that is your choice of course I must honor your wish, but remember, starving to death is not an easy way to die.”