Twenty-Four
Lachlan entered Arthorn Castle under the cover of darkness, which had descended once again. But this time he took the tunnel that led straight to his Uncle Jamie’s bedchamber. After traversing the damp tunnel to the chamber, he listened for any signs of noise from within, though he expected none given what Bridgette had told him about his uncle being away. The door to the chamber took some doing to open, and when it did release, it made such a racket that he withdrew his sword in preparation for an attack. Yet after standing for several tense breaths in the middle of his uncle’s bedchamber, Lachlan decided no assault was forthcoming.
He crept silently out of the bedchamber through corridors that were disturbing in their emptiness. It seemed most the castle inhabitants—likely all soldiers—were not here, which to Lachlan signaled that they had gathered somewhere for a strike, likely on Dunvegan. He wondered briefly if Colin had already left with the men who had been here, but then he spotted two men at the end of a corridor and he had to quickly duck to avoid notice.
Once he felt sure they were safely past, he eased out, and remembering the markers Bridgette had given him, he turned to make his way toward the corridor where he should find Colin’s bedchamber. A woman stepped from the shadows holding a sword—Graham’s sword—in front of her. He felt his eyes widen as he beheld the russet-haired, blue-eyed woman before him. His throat tightened. Though it had been many long years since he had seen Lena, he saw the little girl in the woman before him. Or at least he thought he did. Was he seeing what he wanted? Was this Lena or another lie from Jamie? His gut told him it was his sister. She had the same slanted eyes and full upper lip. Still…
He snaked a hand out and took Graham’s sword from her. Pointing both his own sword and Graham’s at her, he motioned her toward the shadows.
Her lips twitched at the corner with the hint of an amused smile that surprised Lachlan. Without hesitation, she moved into the darkness and faced him. “Ye dunnae remember me, Lachlan MacLeod, but I remember ye. I thought ye a god, and the way ye used to strut around, I ken ye thought yerself a god, as well.”
Shame heated his neck. “I have changed. Raise yer hair, please.”
Lena frowned. “My hair? Why?”
“I’d like to see yer neck.”
“Why—Ah, ye’re nae sure I am yer sister.”
He nodded, and she quickly raised her hair and displayed the dark, leaf-shaped birthmark on her neck. She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well?”
“My God,” was all he managed to mutter.
“Aye,” she agreed. “I myself have been saying that since the woman Bridgette told me ye were nae dead. That none of my brothers were dead as I had been raised to believe.”
Overcome with emotion, Lachlan lowered his weapons and tugged his sister to him. They stood for a moment, embracing, but he knew they had to save all questions—and the time for true reunion—until they were safely away.
“Ye have come to rescue me and our brother Graham, I presume?” She grinned and two big dimples appeared that he remembered so well from her chubby little girl cheeks.
“Aye,” he replied as relief poured through him. “Ye’ve seen Graham, then?”
She nodded. “Only from a distance as Colin dragged him through the courtyard. Colin took him straight to Jamie’s torture chamber, where he is trying to break him this verra moment. I kenned who it was when Colin taunted him and used his name.” Hatred twisted her features, and it seemed to match what Lachlan was feeling for Colin, too. “Graham is strong, aye?”
“Aye,” Lachlan replied. “Why say ye so, though?”
Lena chuckled. “Our brother has been taunting Colin with pledges of yer coming to rip out his heart and eat it for supper. I’ve verra much enjoyed listening to that vow, along with the hundreds of other dark ones of vengeance that Graham has hurled at Colin.”
“Colin will die this day in the way he deserves,” Lachlan snarled.
Lena nodded. “Good. Then he shall die a miserably painful death. ’Tis too bad my husband is nae here for ye to kill, as well. I’d much prefer to be widowed.”
Lachlan felt a smile come to his lips and was sure it likely looked feral. “We can arrange that, sister.”
She nodded, a gleam of satisfaction coming to her eyes. “Come. I’ll lead ye to Graham, but ye must give me yer vow that afore ye kill Colin, ye will learn where he has hidden Ross.”
“Is this the boy ye vowed to protect?”
“Aye. I’m all he has. He dunnae ken who his parents are. I met him when I came here. They treat him like a dog. I will nae leave him. I have searched this castle—was searching yet again when I saw ye—and I kinnae find him. He’s but a child of eight or nine summers.”
“I vow it,” Lachlan said immediately, “upon Bridgette, who I hold most dear in this world.”
A smile pulled at her lips, but then worry came to her eyes. “Did she tell ye anything that happened to her?”
He shook his head. “She will nae speak of it.”
Lena suddenly clutched his arm. “Dunnae lose hope in her,” she said forcefully, and it struck him that she almost sounded as if she spoke for herself.
“Never,” he assured his sister. “Now, how many men do ye ken are here? Will the room Graham is being held in be guarded from within and outside?”
