Highlander's Touch (18 page)

EWAN leapt onto Bhaltair’s barely dry back, forgoing his saddle in his haste to get to Shona.

He’d given the orders to his men to question any and all ship captains near the port and in the village taverns. They were also to take a galleon out into the loch and intercept any outgoing vessels, performing searches on all.

As he rode through the gates, Baodan, Gregor and a dozen other warriors followed. But Gregor deviated toward the village with half the men while Baodan stayed with him.

Ewan nodded a silent thank you to the men for staying with him on his journey into the woods. They’d not made it two miles down the wooded road before they saw thick black smoke curling up into the trees.

“Fire.” His heart clenched and a cold chill slithered over his limbs.

The flames looked dangerously close to where he’d left Shona.

He urged Bhaltair into a faster gallop as they barreled down the road and then veered off into the forest. At this speed he was in danger of his horse tripping over a tree root. But the closer they got, the more he knew in his gut that the blaze was coming from Shona’s cottage.

“Captain, be careful,” Baodan warned. “Could be a trap.”

Ewan never fought with emotion. He never galloped headlong into battle without a strategy, and the fact that he was doing so now was alarming. He slowed his horse, and turned to face the men.

“That fire is coming from Shona’s cottage. If ’tis a trap, then we’d best be prepared to fight. But if ’tis not and she’s stuck inside that burning building, I’m going in after her.” With that said he turned Bhaltair about and they were off once more.

He entered the small clearing before her house. “Shona!”

There was no answer from her, and what he saw before him took his breath away.

Her house was a bright orange ball of fire and rubble. There was nothing left of it. Could have been a bonfire if he’d not known it to be a quaint cottage.

“Bloody fucking…” He couldn’t even speak. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging, felt the painful sting of tears in his eyes.

Leaping from Bhaltair he approached the fire, unsure of how he could find her in the rubble, but knowing he had to try.

“Captain, dinna,” Baodan said. “She’s not in there.”

Ewan kept walking forward until steady hands gripped his shoulders.

“Ewan, she’s not in there,” Baodan said again.

He turned on the man and shoved him hard in the chest. “How do ye bloody know that?”

Baodan pointed behind him, and Ewan followed his line of vision. Outside the barn, her pig and goat had their throats slashed, their blood seeping into the dirt.

“Someone was here,” Baodan said. “My guess is they took her.”

“Took her,” Ewan repeated. There was a painful tightening in chest.

“Aye.” Baodan turned back to the six warriors with them and issued orders while Ewan approached the barn. He searched inside in case Shona had somehow gotten away and hidden herself. But there was nothing.

Back in the clearing his gaze searched the trees for any sign of her or a clue as to where she’d gone. The men did the same, and then one of them let out a whistle. Ewan bolted toward him.

“Lot of tracks here, sir.”

Ewan studied the ground. Indeed, there were dozens of hoof prints in the ground, and though he’d not been with her long, he was certain he would have remembered these from when he’d searched for her before he left.

“The blaze was not lit that long ago, else it would have been ash when we arrived,” Ewan said. “They can’t have gotten that far. There is only one man who could have done this. His name is written all over it.”

“The Butcher,” Baodan said.

“Aye, the bloody fucking Butcher. He’s a dead man. If he’s so much as plucked a single hair from her head, I’m going to cut off his cock and shove it down his throat before I gut him,” Ewan said through bared teeth.

“Ye might consider it anyway, Captain. Should we send for reinforcements?” Baodan asked. “We may need them.”

Ewan shook his head. “We’ve not got time. He won’t keep her long. He’ll allow her to linger until she pleases him no more.” God, but he hoped she could muster the courage to keep the man entertained at least until Ewan found her.

Her life depended on it.

PAIN seared Shona’s head. She tried to reach up to touch the spot, but found her hands wouldn’t budge. A tight bond held her stiffly in place at an odd and uncomfortable angle.

She blinked open her eyes, and saw nothing but darkness. Her mouth was dry and her lungs tight. She could barely draw in a breath, and when she did, a racking cough shook her body, made all the more uncomfortable with the realization she was so tautly bound, her coughing yanked against the restraints. Her hands were tied behind her back, knotted closely to her ankles. She was trussed up in a painful position causing her back to bow.

Tears clouded her already impaired vision. Judging from the scratchy feeling on her forehead and cheeks, they’d put a woolen bag over her head. Was that to keep her from seeing where she was going? To instill fear? Her head hurt so bad she was worried about the damage they’d already caused. Was the bag so they didn’t have to look at her?

She lay still, wherever she was. Shona reached as far as she could with her hands, feeling the coolness of earth and leaves beneath her fingertips. She was on the ground, probably in the woods. The temperature had cooled slightly, which meant the sun had most likely set. And she had no idea how long she’d been knocked out. Shona listened for the sounds of her captors and caught bits and pieces of conversation somewhere off in the distance.

Was this their camp?

Had to be. They didn’t strike her as the type of men who would stop along their journey for a respite. She sniffed, but whatever sense of smell she’d had was still filled with the sharp tang of smoke from her cottage.

She would have mourned the loss of her home, of all her medicinal herbs and salves and the notes she’d taken for which combinations worked best. But there was no time for that. If she were dead, it wouldn’t matter at all. She had to figure out a way to escape. They’d not killed her yet, but they would.

Rubbing her wrists together in an attempt to loosen her bindings only seemed to make them tighter. The roping bit into her skin, but the burning and rawness of her flesh was worth it if she could just loosen them and make a run for it.

“So ye’ve awakened?”

Shona’s heart plummeted and the pain in her head increased exponentially. She stilled at the sound of the man’s voice who’d been behind her door. The same one who’d hit her. Likely the same one who’d tied her up. Fear snaked along her spine and coiled tight. There’d not been enough time to loosen the bindings. There was no escape for her from whatever it was he had planned.

He nudged her knee with the tip of his boot, and even that simple movement sent a sting through her limbs. “Want me to untie ye?”

Shona gasped, then regretted her audible reaction. She didn’t want him to know what she was thinking or feeling. What game was this he played?

She nodded slowly, bracing herself for a blow that didn’t come.

The sharp coldness of a blade slid over her forearm, but did not pierce her skin. He left her wrists bound. Instead, the cords at her ankles were sliced and her limbs slowly unraveled. She stretched the painful kinks from her legs and her spine.

Fear collided with the need to survive racing through her, and little hope of getting out of this alive. Coldness settled in her bones.

The man grabbed onto her shoulder and pulled her roughly to her feet. The bag was ripped from her head but no light filtered to her eyes. ’Twas nighttime, and the campfire far enough away that only shadows filled the space between her and the flames. She trembled, her teeth chattering, though it was not that chilly.

The man’s gaze raked over her in a way that made her feel dirty. “Need to relieve yourself?” he asked.

Shona nodded, surprised he would even care and wondering what his ulterior motive could be.

He grabbed onto her elbow, his fingers biting into her skin, and dragged her behind a bush. The branches scratched at her arms as she passed. The men in his crew jeered at their disappearing bodies. Saints, but this had to be a trick! He didn’t truly plan to let her relieve herself. He only wanted to get her away from the prying eyes of his men so he could rape her. Well, she’d not let that happen! She’d force him to kill her before she ever let him touch her.

Shona cleared her throat and attempted to sound meek. She turned partially around and wiggled her hands. “Will ye untie me?”

The bastard’s eyes narrowed as he assessed her. “Nay.”

Shona turned back around, trying for pleading. “But—”

“I said, nay.”

Saints!
He wasn’t going to untie her. “Will ye at least give me some privacy? Please?” Though it was dark, and he’d likely not see much, she still didn’t want him watching her in such a private act.  She didn’t want
anyone
to see her that way.

“Nay.” His answer was short and followed by a bark of laughter. “Now get on with it else I call over the rest of the men to watch.”

She struggled with choosing to hold her bladder, but she wasn’t sure how long it would be until he let her go again. Holding it wasn’t an option unless she didn’t care about messing herself, and she
did
care, a great deal.

Shona would have to make do with tugging up her skirts without his help, and attempt to keep her nude lower half obscured from his vision. Fingers numb, Shona grappled with her skirts finally wrenching the back up enough that she didn’t think she’d wet her dress but not far enough up that he would see her bare buttocks. But then squatting down became difficult and she teetered unstably on her still semi-numb ankles.

The man gave a disgusted grunt then grabbed her dress and flipped it over her head, covering eyes.

Shona cried out. “Stop!”

Wrenching her head this way and that, she managed to get the gown off of her eyes, but couldn’t stop him from touching her. His cold fingers dug into the bareness of her hips and forced her halfway to the ground. She quaked in disgust and tried to wriggle free.

“Unhand me!”

“Shut your mouth and be grateful. Now get on with pissing.”

“I can do it on my own,” she ground out, mortified and terrified that the man was touching her, watching her. Lord, how she wanted to curl up in a ball and sob.

Strength. Be strong.
The one chant that had gotten her through since she’d arrived on Gealach lands afflicted with no memory.

“I dinna care if ye can do it on your own or nay, I like the view.” He squeezed her hips tighter; painful enough that she was certain to have bruises upon the morrow. “Ye’re skin is… soft.” He pressed his nose to the top of her head and breathed in deeply. “And ye smell… like a lush cunt.”

Bile rose in her throat, and she coughed, trying to choke it down before she vomited. The nasty thug was trying to humiliate her. To make her uncomfortable and scared. And it was working. Shona turned her head slightly and stared at him out of the side of her eyes. Should she try to run? Even with her hands tied, she could still bolt. When she was finished, she gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, fully prepared for him to bend her forward and force himself on her. Her teeth chattered again at the thought.

“Pp… please,” she murmured, ashamed at showing her fear in front of this man. Ashamed to beg.

He laughed cruelly and then shoved her forward. She stumbled and just when she’d caught her balance, his boot landed squarely on her buttocks in a painful kick. Shona fell to her knees and, unable to catch herself, landed facedown in the leaves, a fallen branch scratching her cheek.

Instinct took over her thoughts. She wriggled forward, trying to put some distance between the man and herself. But with her hands tied behind her back and her gown catching on forest debris, it was difficult to maneuver her body.

“Ye canna get too far now, can ye, dearie?”

Shona let out a sob as the man fell on top of her, grinding his disgusting member against her bare buttocks and looking for entry. He grabbed her hair, tugging her head back painfully. She clenched all of her muscles tight, bucking beneath him.