Chapter thirty-three

 

 

“Finally I get you where I want you.” Erwin pushed the women into a large opening.

A cave! The tunnel led into a cave. Rays of light seeped through branches covering the entrance. Catherine edged away while his attention was focused on Tory. She turned to run, trying to get to Duncan, but the man quickly caught her, slapping her face. “Do not try escaping again, Lady MacThomas. If you do, I shall stick my dirk in your friend’s heart.”

Catherine eyed Tory and knew she couldn’t leave her friend. He dragged Catherine to a fallen log and fastened her to a tether. He ran his finger lightly up and down her jawline. She jerked away, his attention sending shivers up her spine. He pressed a dirk to her throat, toyed with it as if he meant to slice her jugular.

“Leave her be,” Tory shouted at him, disgust clear in her tone. “You are crazed. Let us go, Erwin. You know Duncan and Grant shall find you—they shall kill you.”

Erwin waved dismissively. “They willnae find us. At least not until ‘tis too late for the pair of you. And you, Mistress High and Mighty”—hard, steely eyes glared at Tory—“willnae escape me this time. I waited a long time for you. My waiting has come to an end. When I am finished, your beloved husband shall have naught to do with you.”

“Grant would never—” Tory protested before he cut her off.

“Dinnae fancy he cares that much about you. The Drummond is too proud to take back tarnished goods.” The evil in his voice chilled Catherine’s blood as he taunted Tory. “And by the time I finish, you shall have my bairn in your belly.”

He laughed, the most terrifying sound Catherine ever heard. This man truly was demented. How could they possibly escape?

“You vile, evil man!” Tory lunged at Erwin only to have him grab her and twist her arm behind her back.

Tory swung her free arm, trying to hit him, but he twisted her other arm again, threatening to break her bones.

He glared at the woman he’d once desired. “I know you well enough, Lady Drummond. Your honor is without question. ‘Tis why I dinnae tie you up. You shall not abandon Lady MacThomas.”

“You know naught you worthless excuse for a man.” Tory narrowed her eyes and glowered.

“Should you try to escape, Lady MacThomas will be dead afore you reach the cave’s entrance, but first I shall slice that bairn from her belly.”

As if the matter was settled, he set about to make a fire, humming happily to himself.

Catherine stifled a moan and sat with a thud.

Tory lowered herself to the log beside Catherine. “What is wrong? Have your pains increased?”

Catherine’s eyes met Tory’s. She shook her head, trying to deny anything was wrong.

Tory smiled at Catherine. “Your husband is right, Cat MacThomas. You are a horrid liar. Duncan once told me you did not lie well. He said he could always tell when something bothered you, because your face showed every emotion. He said ‘twas one of the things he so loved about you.”

“He does not love me,” Catherine protested.

“Cat,” Tory said in exasperation, “will you stop being so thick headed? Your husband adores you.”

“He—”

“Has done everything possible to convince you of his feelings,” Tory challenged, “but you refuse to believe anything he says. He made a wrong move early in your marriage, but he has tried to make up for it ever since. For once in your life, quit arguing. This is not the time or place to talk about it, but think about it. If you refuse to believe what he tells you now, why cling to fool words the man said when first you met?”

Catherine seemed about to answer when she doubled over in pain.

Tory’s eyes widened. “You are having the babe? Now?”

When the pain ebbed and she was able to sit upright again, Catherine met her eyes and nodded.

“When did your pains start in earnest?”

“When I fell in that horrid tunnel. Before that man cut your bonds and you were able to help me. Oh, Tory, I hate small places. I know not how I survived the walk through that dark place.”

“After all the time we have waited, you choose now to have Duncan’s babe? Friend, you astound me.”

“I do not believe I particularly have any say in this,” Catherine said through gritted teeth. Her eyes swung to Erwin who was busy building a fire. “How do we keep him from knowing?”

Tory admitted. “Soon ‘twill be too obvious. The man is evil, not stupid.” She reached out and held Catherine’s hand. “I do not wish to frighten you, but your pains shall get worse before the babe arrives.”

Catherine gulped and nodded. “How do you know him?”

“He is a former member of Clan MacThomas, once one of Duncan’s most trusted companions. One night he snapped. Afterwards he blamed me. Something ridiculous about wanting me and Duncan let Grant steal me away.”

Erwin walked over to where they huddled together. Towering above them, his eyes glinting with malice, he informed them, “It amuses me to take something away from your husbands. I have waited a long time for this day.”

“You think they will not find us?” Catherine taunted. “They are excellent trackers and will have men from the keep with them. Just because you do not possess such skills, does not mean they are failures like you.”

Erwin backhanded her, the stinging force causing her to fall off the log.

Tory helped her up, trying to cover Catherine’s grimace. She engaged Erwin in conversation, clearly trying to keep him from noticing Catherine was in labor. “Why did you come back to Scotland, Erwin? You had to know Grant and Duncan would come after you after what you and Grant’s brother did to me. As I recall, you tied me up then, too. Is that the only way you can get a woman? What a pathetic excuse for a man.”

Another sharp pain engulfing her, Catherine drew in a sharp intake of breath.

“Pathetic? I dinnae think so, lady,” came Erwin’s harsh words. “I have exactly what I want now.” He gave her a crooked, gap-toothed smile. “If you do as bidden, you willnae die. One of you I mean to have, the other I shall kill her child—just as I did in London.” His cold eyes regarded Catherine.

Hers widened at his brutal words. She shuddered and stifled a cry.

Tory gasped at the sickness in his admission. “You really beat an innocent woman apurpose? Made her lose her child?”

“I intend to rid her of this one, too,” he boasted. “The world needs not another MacThomas from Duncan’s line. The foul spawn would likely be sickly like his weak sire.”

“You traveled with Duncan. What turned you against him? He did naught to you,” Tory pointed out.

“Faugh,” Erwin snarled. “He gave you to that no good husband of yours. Had he fought for you that night instead of handing you over with no argument when he was drunk, I would have made you mine as soon as he passed out.” He cursed. “But no, he handed you over with nary a word. I vowed that night I would avenge myself.”

Catherine couldn’t stop the shivers that shook her body. Some was fear, but the cold was seeping bone deep. There was no way to stay warm in the chemise. Erwin squatted and added more twigs to the fire, but the pale light neither gave off heat nor dispelled the inky darkness of this crypt-like cave.

Another shudder racked her body. This one from dread. Her dream... Catherine bit her lip to hold back her scream. This was her dream. She looked at Erwin, knowing soon Duncan and he would be locked in a deadly duel to the death.

He turned his head back to Tory. “No one will find this cave. I watched the castle with this as my base. I used the tunnels to get into the kitchen at night to fetch food. I could live here forever without someone finding me.”

“Do not use me as an excuse,” Tory shouted. “There is more to your hatred than me.”

“It matters not.” His mouth twisted in a sneer.

Turning his head, he narrowed his eyes at Catherine, lewdly appraising her body in the thin chemise. “Once I root out the bairn she carries, I may have her as well.”

“Root out?” Catherine screamed in alarm. “Nay, you cannot hurt this babe. I shall not let you.” She tried to stand up, but her bonds jerked her backward. No longer focusing on concealing her pains, she cried out as the next one engulfed her.

Erwin narrowed his eyes and stared. When she clutched her belly, he laughed, “Looks like I shall be spared the trouble of finding a stick to root it out. Let nature take its course, then I shall kill it. Mayhap throw it in the nearest loch to drown—or let it lie outside for hungry animals.”

“You are despicable.” Catherine’s hands clenched in fists. “I vow on my life, you will not harm my babe. I will kill you first.”

Erwin shifted position and Tory scurried to her feet to stand between he and Catherine.

“The hare squeaks.” With another burst of laughter, Erwin left them alone and walked outside the cave.

Tory rushed to Catherine’s side. “Shh,” she consoled, rubbing her hands up and down Catherine’s arms. “’Twill be all right. Just help me keep him talking. The longer he talks, brags, the more time it gives our men to find us. Our husbands shall be here soon.”

“Oh Tory, I had a dream...of a crypt-like cave and endless darkness...blood...and men fighting with swords.” Catherine gulped back her tears.

“Never fear, Cat,” Tory assured. “We shall get out of here. God will protect us.” She placed her hand on Catherine’s belly and added, “All three of us. There is no way I shall let this man harm you or the babe you and Duncan waited so long for.” She paused. “Grant did not tell me Erwin was responsible for you losing your babe. I misdoubt he knew.”

Catherine shook her head, took several deep breaths. “I did not know who he was. I had no name to give Duncan.” She looked to the cave entrance and back to Tory. “How will we escape?”

“I have no idea. With you so close to delivering, we are vulnerable.” She smiled. “So, we will keep our wits about us, see he talks, and give us time to let our husband’s find us. Grant never lets me go far. You will see.”

“Please do not let him kill my baby, Tory,” Catherine pleaded, her chest rising and falling with gulps of air. “If I could free myself of these bonds, we could rush him, mayhap knock him to the ground.”

Tory shook her head. “Despite the enormous danger to yourself, you would charge him?”

Catherine nodded. “Of course, ‘tis imperative I get back to Duncan. I fear him coming to the cave and fighting Erwin. I saw so much blood in my dream.”

Tory put her arm around her. Catherine felt the warmth of her body. “Did you see Duncan die in the dream?”

“Nay, but I...”

“Then trust in your husband, Cat. As I trust Grant. As I trust our holy Father in Heaven.”

~ * ~

Duncan grew frantic as he desperately ran his fingers over every spot on the wall. “There has to be a catch here.”

“You are certain you do not remember your mam or da mentioning an escape tunnel?” Grant asked.

“Nay, I spent little time in their chamber. Da did not like me in there.” He raked his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “I did not even know we had a tunnel system at Glenshee.”

“But someone who lives here must.”

They immediately called for Angus. Duncan also issued the order to, “Set the men to search outside the castle pale. See if they pick up a trail away from the castle.”

Grant glared at the wooden wardrobe. “No need for a secret latch if we use an axe.” His sharp eyes narrowed. “Look at this carving on the side. It looks like an arrow.”

“Mayhap it points to the lever?” Duncan joined him, inspecting it. “Push it.”

They pushed against the heavy piece. At first nothing, but then it moved away just enough for a body to squeeze through. Hope rose, until they faced a stone wall.

“Now what?” Duncan groused.

Grant glanced back at the wardrobe. “The arrow no longer points to the wall.” His eyes looked to the fireplace just to the side. “It points here.”

Grant ran his hand over the fireplace’s mantle. Over the hearthside tools. Then he noticed the lions’ heads on either side of the stone mantle.

Angus walked in and was quickly apprised of what they searched for.

“’Tis the lion’s head on the left,” he informed them.

Grant slowly jiggled the head until he was able to pull it a hand’s length away from the wall. As he did, they heard a heavy grating sound and the wall behind the wardrobe moved just enough for Grant to get his hand through it.

Duncan instantly noticed the darkened stain on the wood frame.

They put their shoulders to it, and almost fell in as the hidden door moved easily.

“I would say someone uses this rather frequently.” Grant grabbed a torch off the hallway wall and followed Duncan into the tunnel.

Duncan was in absolute panic. The narrow corridors seemed to go on forever, the incline steep. More than once they were faced with one that branched off.

“Slow down, Duncan. We must use our tracking skills. Tory might have left clues,” Grant insisted.

“How many paths wind beneath the castle?” Duncan bemoaned.

“’Tis something we can discover once our ladies are tucked up safely.”

The hairs on the back of Duncan’s neck prickled as it registered the tunnels were like an underground maze. His breath nearly caught, but he forced his mind to deal with it, and pushed on.

Catherine needed him.

Where are they? Heavenly Father, please be with them. Wrap Your hedge of protection around them. In Jesus’ name I pray. Then fear intervened and he wondered, Will they be safe when we find them?

Terror drove him forward.

“Who took them? One of the neighboring Farquharsons? Mayhap hoping to claim blackmail over our longstanding feud? How would they know of the tunnel?” Words came from his mouth, though he little recalled speaking.

Concentrating on the path in front of him, he pushed his tired body onward. Everyone veered right when Alasdair found signs the women had turned in that direction.

Grant hushed him. “We need to listen for sounds. Here.” From marks on the ground, one of the women had fallen and been dragged before standing and walking again.

Duncan glanced toward Grant, who looked just as angry as Duncan felt.

He growled his frustration.

How far ahead could the women be? Had they been taken while he trained in the lists, or had his wife’s life become at stake while he lazed before the hearth in his Great Hall? If he’d checked on her sooner, this might not have happened.

Fear churned his belly.

Did whoever took them think himself too good to be found?

How foolish.

A sea of rage spurred him on.

“Another corridor.” Grant paused, waving the torch inside each trying to see if there were signs to see which way they came. “Listen... I hear voices.”

Eyes fixed on Grant. He stood at the mouth of two tunnels trying to determine which way the voices came. They echoed, reverberated, distorting sounds to where he couldn’t tell. “Should we separate? You take one and I take the other?”

“Hush, listen,” Duncan cautioned, holding his finger to his lips.

Muted voices came and Grant jerked his head to the right. “This way.”

A scream echoed along the stone.

Duncan pushed past Grant and the torch, racing in the direction the sound had emanated.

He recognized the scream.

Cat.