Highlander's Promise Page 3

  “I am going to take great pleasure in killing that bastard,” Cree whispered angrily near his wife’s ear. His voice softened, though the anger did not leave it when he asked, “Have you been harmed?”

  Dawn tapped his arm twice, answering no.

  Cree quickly shifted her in his arms and carried her deeper into the dark cell, walking without the slightest hesitation, as if he could see the small space clearly. He lowered them both to a spot on the ground, settling her on his lap, tucking her close and keeping firm hold of her. He turned silent, saying nothing.

  Dawn knew her husband well. She could see, sense, and feel when things troubled or angered him. Then there were those times when his wrath surfaced and no one—absolutely no one—would dare go near him, except Dawn.

  She felt that wrath smoldering in him now and she did the only thing she could think of... she took his hand and pressed it firm against her chest, then she pressed it to his chest, and she repeated the gesture over and over and over. I love you. I love you. I love you.

  His fury tempered, but did not fade.

  “And my love for you runs as strongly as yours does for me, wife, which is why I am both overjoyed and furious to hold you in my arms. You have much to explain, but first...” He took hold of her chin, tilting it up and brought his lips down on hers.

  His demanding kiss stole her breath, her heart, and her soul, and she got lost in it. Time and place did not exist, only the two of them and their hearts that once again beat together as one.

  When it ended, he rested his brow to hers and whispered, “Good God, Dawn, what are you doing here?”

  It was not easy gesturing in the dark and his frequent interruptions did not help.

  “You came to rescue me? You endangered yourself over a fool’s errand?”

  She continued.

  “Old Mary is with you? Are you two daft?”

  After several more interruptions, Dawn pressed her finger to his lips, ordering him silent.

  He let her finish, then pressed his finger to her lips.

  She smiled. She loved that he treated her as if she truly had a voice, but then she did. It was just heard differently than others.

  “If we were home the keep’s rafters would tremble with how loudly I would chastise you. Do you not have faith in me? Do you think me weak?”

  Dawn tapped his arm twice and twice again as she shook her head. A tear trickled from her eye as she took her hand and pretended to chop at the side of his head, reminding him of the beheading.

  “I have lost my head to only one person... you.”

  Her body shook with laughter, though a shiver from a sudden chill quickly stole it from her.

  “Damn,” Cree muttered and ran his hand up and down her back, trying to rub warmth into her. “They gave me no bedding, no blankets. I have nothing to wrap you in.”

  Dawn patted his arm.

  “My arms are not enough to keep you warm and if you catch a chill and die on me, do not think it will stop me from coming after you and punishing you for not obeying me.”

  Dawn laughed again, then sighed and snuggled her body comfortably against him.

  “How can you be content here in this wretched place?” he asked, feeling her body ease in his arms.

  She tapped his chest, then hers, and shrugged.

  “As long as we are together, it does not matter to you?”

  She tapped his arm once.

  With it being dark, it took a few hand gestures for him to understand what she asked next. “You want to know how I planned to escape?” One tap to his arm had him continuing, though not answering her question. “And what of your plan? How do you expect to get both of us out of here?”

  Dawn gestured slowly.

  “Old Mary will rescue us tomorrow? You cannot be serious.”

  Dawn nodded and tapped his arm once.

  “An old woman bent and gnarled with age will free us from the bowels of this place?” he asked incredulously.

  Dawn nodded again.

  He was about to argue with her when they both heard footfalls approach.

  Dawn’s arms went around her husband, holding him tight.

  Cree felt her fear of being taken from him and his anger soared. He quickly shifted her body so that she straddled him, keeping his back to the door and tucking her head against his chest. His hands went to her backside and he lifted her up and down in a motion that made it seem she was riding him. And he snapped, “Harder women! Harder!”

  Light suddenly filtered through the narrow slit in the door.

  “Minnoch will be pleased to know you are enjoying your gift.” A snorting laugh faded along with his footfalls.

  Cree waited a moment to make certain the guard was gone, only then did he lift his wife and rest her in his lap again. His arms hurried around her and feeling that her back had chilled again began rubbing warmth back into it.

  He pressed his warm cheek to her cool one and whispered in her ear. “You feel how hard I am, how much I want you. But then you are well aware that my desire runs strong for you all the time, and you make no secret of your desire for me. But as badly as I want you, never would I make love to you in such a horrid place and for others to see.” He felt her cheek rise against his in a smile and he felt her nod. She eased away from him and it took him a moment to understand her gestures, then he smiled. “You are right. This is the second time you were locked away with me and expected to please me. I recall how much you feared me when first meeting you.”

  She gestured again.

  “What do you mean you still fear me?” he demanded. “If you feared me you would obey me and your presence here in this cell proves you do not obey me.”

  Dawn pressed her hand to his cheek for a moment before gesturing again.

  Cree took her hand and kissed her palm. “Never fear that I would stop loving you. It is not possible. Besides, you belong to me and I keep what is mine.”

  She thumped his chest, then thumped hers.

  He brushed his lips over hers. “Aye, I belong to you and no other. You are stuck with me.”

  She hugged him tight, letting him know that he was also stuck with her and she would never let him go.

  “Old Mary will get us out tomorrow night,” Cree said as if saying it aloud forced him to believe it.

  Dawn nodded and assured him with gestures that Old Mary would not fail them.

  “Tell me how the twins do.”

  Dawn told him how much they miss him, especially Lizbeth. She told him how her eyes widened and how her tiny head would turn from side to side as if eager to hear her da’s voice whenever someone entered the room. And how she would scowl just like him when she did not hear it.

  Talk faded between them and they sat in silence, Cree continuing to caress her bare back, arms, and tucking her legs up close so he could keep warmth in them as well.

  After a while Cree’s hand drifted over her shoulder and up along her neck, then ever so slowly his fingers felt along her throat.

  Dawn tensed. She was waiting for this moment and wondered why it had not come sooner.

  “Seeing you here in such danger with little opportunity to keep you from harm and get you out of here safely had my anger near to erupting. And when they striped you bare, I wanted to snap every one of their necks, which I intend to still do. But when Minnoch had the bandage pulled off your neck, I felt a fear grip me that I have never felt before. I thought once he saw that you had suffered no wound, he would discover your identity and there was no telling what he would do.”

  He paused a moment and Dawn could feel his body grow taut with anger.

  He ran one finger over the wound along her neck. “Imagine my shock when I saw this.”

  Her hand went to his to brush it away, but he pushed her hand away.

  “No! I want to feel for myself what was done to you. At first when I caught a glimpse of it, all I could think of was how I was going to slowly slit the person’s throat who had done this to you and watch him bleed to d
eath. Then an absurd thought came to me. You did this to yourself so that no one would suspect you were my wife.”

  Dawn nodded, not wanting to implicate Old Mary. He would eventually find out, but now was not the time. She felt his anger rumble deep in his chest and thought better of offering any kind of explanation for what she had done. None would make a difference to him.

  He spread his hand over the wound. “I want to lash out at you for being so foolish, though your foolishness also saved you, but if you had obeyed me in the first place you would be home safe with the twins.”

  She shook her head.

  “Do not argue with me, woman!”

  Dawn tensed at the harshness of his growling whisper.

  “You have placed your life needlessly in danger and took the chance of killing yourself by slicing,” —he stopped abruptly— “Old Mary cut your throat, did she not?” He did not let her answer. “She would have never let you do it yourself nor would she let you attempt to rescue me alone, since she knows you well and knew there would be no way of stopping you. Bless that woman for being so wise.”

  Dawn made no move to respond.

  “Will it scar?” he asked the harshness in his voice replaced with concern.

  Dawn shrugged, letting him know she was not sure.

  “It will always be a reminder—”

  Dawn pressed her finger to his lips and gestured.

  “Of how much you love me,” Cree said when she pressed her hand to her chest and then to his and kept it there. “Your love for me is never in doubt, either is your penchant for disobeying me.”

  She could not help but smile.

  “Enjoy this small victory, for it will be your last. I intend to find a punishment that will finally have you doing as I tell you.”

  Her hands gestured too quickly in response and she had to repeat herself a few times.

  “Are you asking me if I will always protect you?” Cree asked annoyed.

  Dawn nodded while tapping is arm once.

  “How could you even think I would not protect you?”

  Dawn quickly thumped her chest, then his.

  “You do the same? I think not, since I do not need protecting.”

  Dawn waved her hand around the cell.

  “So help me, wife—” Footfalls silenced him, but only for a moment. “On your knees,” he ordered.

  Dawn did as he said, thinking how he protected her now, keeping the guard from seeing her naked body each time he pretended to couple with her.

  “I win the wager,” one guard said. “I told you he would be poking her again. Plow her good, Cree. You do not have much time left.”

  They waited until Cree pretended to finish, draping his body over his wife as if spent in climax.

  When their footfalls faded, Cree took his wife in his arms again and she hugged him tight. Anger stirred in him for what his wife was suffering and somehow he was going to make certain that all those involved suffered worse for it.

  Dawn rested her head on her husband’s chest. Worry and fatigue were beginning to take its toll on her. She had barely slept since Cree’s departure and being with him now, feeling safe for the moment, she found herself growing sleepy.

  “Rest,” Cree whispered when he felt her yawn and her body go limp in his arms.

  Dawn could not fight the fatigue and the safety of her husband’s strong arms gave her the will to surrender to it.

  Cree rested his cheek on the top of her head, not caring that the scent of her hair was far from appealing. She was here with him now and the ache that had wrenched at his gut since the day he had left her was finally gone. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy this moment if only for a short time.

  Several footfalls woke them, neither of them knowing how long they had been asleep, and Cree was quick to get them both to their feet. This time, however, he did not pretend to couple with her. He pushed her behind his back.

  “Say your good-byes. Minnoch says you have had enough fun with her,” the one guard said with a laugh.

  Fear raced through Dawn and she did her best to stamp it down. She did not want to leave Cree, but she would have a better chance of rescuing him being free than locked in here with him. And standing behind, almost on top of him, she could feel his muscles beginning to grow taut with anger. She could not let him stop them from taking her. It would ruin any chance of freeing him.

  She gestured quickly to him.

  He whispered, though did not turn around to face her. “Yes, you will go, but if they dare lay a hand on you in front of me, or at all, I will kill them.”

  She gestured quickly again.

  “You will not come back for me,” he ordered in a harsh whisper.

  Dawn hurried around him as the door flew open.

  Cree clenched his hands to stop himself from reaching out and stopping her.

  Dawn did not need to force tears to her eyes, they came easily, having to leave her husband locked away in here. She reached out, not caring who was there only wanting them to believe she was grateful to be free.

  “Stop your crying, you fool. If you had listened to your husband in the first place you would not be in this mess.”

  Cree never felt so grateful as he did now, seeing his wife fall into Old Mary’s arms, and he sent her a message that left no doubt he meant to be obeyed. “Take the crying bitch and keep her. The smell of her rot disgusts me.”

  Old Mary draped a blanket around Dawn and gave her a shove. “Get moving. We leave in the morning.”

  Cree shut his eyes tight and clenched his fists even tighter as the door slammed shut and the key turned in the lock. When he got his hands on his wife he was going to give her a good thrashing. When Old Mary had given her a push, Dawn had held up her hand and two of her fingers were crossed. She was letting him know she would not be separated from him. She was coming back to free him.

  Chapter Five

  “Keep going, I’ve had enough of your laziness,” Old Mary said, poking Dawn from behind.

  Dawn kept the blanket tight around her and was glad for Old Mary’s prodding. Hearing her voice, knowing she was there, gave Dawn courage. She hated leaving Cree behind, but knew it was necessary. There had been too many guards and more would have been alerted if Cree had made an attempt to escape.

  Her gesture of joined fingers let him know she would return, though she knew he would not be happy about it. It made no difference to her. She would free her husband whether he thought it dangerous for her to do so or not.

  When they reached the room where the guards were stationed, one stepped out and blocked their path.

  “How about a quick poke before you go?” the guard said his smile revealing rotting teeth.

  “Go on and give him a good poke,” Old Mary said, giving her a shove.

  A foul stench suddenly rose up around Dawn.

  “Let me get her cleaned up first,” Old Mary said, shoving her aside to reveal a putrid fluid where Dawn had stood.

  Dawn cringed while hiding her smile, familiar with the smell of water fouled by decaying fish guts. How Old Mary came by it or knew she would make use of it was something Dawn would not question, though she was forever grateful.

  “Be gone with you,” the guard shouted, gagging at the stench.

  Another guard hurried Old Mary and Dawn along the passageway and practically tossed them out the door.

  Dawn was surprised to see that it was night.

  “Hurry, we do not have much time,” Old Mary urged, pushing Dawn toward the shadows of the nearby trees. She pulled a sack form beneath her tunic and handed it to Dawn. “Hurry into these.” Her voice grew soft. “I saw that Cree was well enough, but what of you? Are you all right?”

  Old Mary had always worried over her and she assured the old woman that she was fine, though anxious to free Cree.

  “A plan is set and we must see it done,” Old Mary whispered.

  Once Dawn was dressed in less foul smelling garments, Old Mary took her arm and walked out of the shad
ows.

  “My bones ache, lass. Let us return to camp and rest so we can leave by morning,” Old Mary said for those close enough to hear.

  Dawn grew anxious. Old Mary was letting anyone who could hear her know they were leaving tomorrow, which meant she had a solid plan that could very well free Cree.

  When they reached where they were camped, they found that their cart had been ransacked, its contents strewn about. They pretended to be upset, though it mattered little to them. Nothing worth stealing had been left. Dawn had tucked the food pouch beneath the cart and Old Mary had kept her pouch of herbs tied at her waist.

  “We leave at sunrise,” Old Mary said as they tossed the last of the smelly rags back in the cart.

  “Make it the crack of sunrise,” said a warrior passing by. “We need the room for those willing to pay to watch the beheading in two days.”

  Old Mary sat poking at the fire with a stick and complaining how useless Dawn was. It was when some nearby men began talking loud enough to drown her out, as if tired of hearing the old woman grumble that Old Mary began to whisper to Dawn. “Listen well, I have found a way into the prison and I believe I have a plan that will work.”

  Dawn felt hope rise and squeeze at her heart.

  “I convinced the guard with the limp that I can cure him of his ailment with my special brew and healing touch. I offered proof with a taste of my special brew and laid my hands on his sore leg muscles with strength enough to ease his ache. Both were enough to alleviate his pain some and have him believe I could rid him of the cursed pain completely. I told him I would need a quiet place where I could work on him with no interruptions.”

  Dawn’s heart began to quicken.

  “He told me of a jail door that only he has the key to. I am to go there when the village is well asleep for the night and he will let me in. I will prepare a brew and as soon as he falls asleep, I will let you in and we will get Cree out,” —Old Mary hesitated a moment— “I must remain there and see him wake, so he does not think anything is wrong and alert others. Besides, we cannot leave until sunrise when the gate opens. You must get Cree to the cart and hide him beneath the heap of rags. I will return just before sunrise and we will be at the gate as it opens and we will leave this retched place.”