Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(75)

She looked around and for the first time realized they were not in the forest, but in a cave. The tunnel of stone was dark and musty, the air cool and damp. “Where are we? How did I get here?”

“We’re in a cave near Ascog, and as for how you got here, I carried you.” Niall rubbed his back. “For such a wee lass, you sure weigh a lot.” She swatted him again, and he laughed. “After you fainted . . .”

Now that demanded an immediate response. Her spine straightened at the affront. “I don’t faint.”

“You do now.” Niall grinned again, and she thought if she weren’t so happy to see him, she might shoot him.

She opened her mouth, intending to give him a few choice words on the subject, but he cut her off.

“I think, under the circumstances, it is understandable.” He called over to one of the men guarding the mouth of the cave. “Isn’t that so, Seamus?”

“Aye, Chief, very understandable.”

Chief. Caitrina met Seamus’s gaze with dawning understanding. Of course. Niall was Chief of the Lamonts—or would be, if it were known he was alive. Seamus’s attitude suddenly made sense.

“Come . . .” Niall took her hand and led her deeper into the cave. “Come see why I have brought you here.”

They walked about fifteen feet in the semidarkness and reached a fork.

“Be careful,” he warned. “It’s easy to get lost in here.”

Caitrina clutched his hand a little harder and ducked as they entered a tiny chamber. A few torches had been secured to the walls, and on the dirt floor there was a makeshift pallet with a large deerhound laid out at its foot. It looked almost like Boru. One of her father’s guardsmen was bent over. . . .

And there in the flickering torchlight, Caitrina had the second biggest shock of her life.

“Brian!” She ran forward and dropped to her knees, gathering his limp body in her arms.

“Caiti!” He coughed weakly. “I knew you’d come. Just like Boru. He was waiting for me when I returned.”

Realizing how ill he was, she released him gently. Her eyes traveled over him, taking in every detail of her brother’s bedraggled appearance: the thin, dirty face, the arm in a sling, the bloodstained bandage wrapped around his head.

She turned to Niall. “What’s happened? What’s the matter with him? We must get him help.”

Niall shook his head, indicating he didn’t want to say anything in front of the lad.

Caitrina looked back down at Brian, but his eyes were closed. A pang struck in her chest. Seeing her must have sapped him of his strength. She adjusted the plaid around his shoulders, making sure he was warm, and then leaned down to place a kiss on his head.

Tears glistened in her eyes again. Her throat grew thick with happiness. It was unbelievable. Niall and Brian both alive. She looked around, half expecting to see . . .

Her eyes met Niall’s. He must have guessed her silent question and shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not, Caiti. Malcolm fell not long after Father.” His face hardened, becoming unrecognizable. “At the hand of Campbell of Auchinbreck: your husband’s brother.”

A chill went through her. The happiness she’d found with Jamie suddenly felt wrong. His eyes pinned her as if challenging her to deny it. She winced at the silent accusation. “Niall, I can explain—”

“You will, but not here.”

She took a few more minutes with Brian, simply savoring the sight of him. Though weak and clearly dangerously ill, he was alive. She smoothed her hand across his warm, clammy forehead. God, how she’d missed them.

Knowing that there was nothing more she could do for him right now, she gave Brian another kiss on the head and followed Niall back toward the larger chamber near the mouth of the cave.

Niall pulled up a dried-out log they’d been using for a stool. “Sit.”

She did as ordered, and he took a seat beside her.

“I know you have many questions, and I’ll do my best to answer them. But then you will answer some for me.”

Caitrina swallowed, not liking his tone. She lifted her chin. He had much to answer for himself. For months she’d suffered, thinking them dead. How could he not have sent her word? “Very well.”

Niall cleared his throat and began recounting his version of what had happened the day of the attack. “After the first wave of fighting, it was pandemonium. The Campbells had taken the castle, and women and children were pouring out of the keep. Father and Malcolm had fallen, and I was trying to organize what was left of the men.” He paused. It was clear that remembering what had happened that dark day was difficult for him. “At that point, I knew there was no chance we would retake the castle; my main concern was saving as many of our people as we could, leading them into the hills, and regrouping to fight another day. But before I had a chance to come after you, we were attacked again and I lost even more of my men. By that time they’d lit the fires.” He looked into her eyes. “I can’t tell you the agony I felt when I realized you and Brian were still inside.”

Caitrina felt tears burning her eyes, remembering as well.

Niall continued, “It was a living hell. I’ve never seen so much blood. My men were being slaughtered left and right. Auchinbreck gave no quarter, intent on taking no prisoners. Knowing we would all die otherwise, I ordered the rest of my men into the hills and decided to go after you and Brian myself. I was doing my best to stay out of sight when I saw a couple of soldiers dump Brian on a heap of dead bodies they were piling in the barmkin to burn. They were laughing and joking, and I heard your name. They said it was a shame they hadn’t had a chance to”—he caught himself—“violate you before you’d died.”