The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(113)

He worked for hours on the grate. Using the chain between the manacles that had bound his hands, he wrapped it around the grate and pulled. But the damned thing seemed welded into the rock.

He pulled and dug until his hands bled. God, what he would have done for Boyd’s additional strength!

It was one of the most satisfying moments of his life when the bloody grate broke free.

Ignoring the demons of panic roaring in his head, Lachlan forced himself to squeeze into the tight hole. There was barely an inch to move around him. He wound like a snake through the rocky maze, contorting his body into the narrowest shape possible and praying he didn’t get stuck. Jagged pieces of rock tore through his flesh, but he could hear the sound of water below and knew that he must be close.

But then his luck ran out. The drain took a sharp turn down, halving in size. The sea and freedom lay a tantalizingly short distance beneath him—no more than forty feet—but he’d gone as far as he could go.

He let out a string of blasphemies that would have sent him straight to hell if he wasn’t already there.

He wouldn’t give up. Not even when they came for him. But Lachlan knew that right now, his best chance was to pray for a miracle.

Twenty-two

His miracle arrived that night.

Lachlan was ready for the door to open. He’d spent hours gathering what weapons he could: a half-dozen rocks of various sizes chipped from the walls of the drain, the manacles and chain, a larger piece of bone sharpened to a point to use as a crude dirk.

At the first sounds of someone fiddling with the lock, he stood with his back against the wall in the darkest corner. He would need time for his eyes to adjust to the sudden blast of light, and he wanted to draw the guard’s head down into the pit.

The guard seemed to be having an unusual amount of difficulty with the lock. Lachlan could hear muffled oaths coming from above.

Finally it opened.

The narrow beam of light was blinding. As soon as he saw the guard’s head descend, he took aim at the blur and fired, throwing the piece of steel as hard as he could.

Hurling stones into the sea as a lad had been a favorite pastime of his, and it came to great effect when he heard an oath and the guard tumbled forward into the pit. The guard was unusually big for an Englishman, and he landed with a resounding thud.

Lachlan ignored his angry cursing and focused on the hole above, waiting for the next guard to come forward.

“Damn it, Viper,” a familiar voice said from above. “What the hell did you hit him with?”

Lachlan’s stomach pitched forward. Ah hell. “Hawk?”

His cousin’s grinning face peered down at him. He winked. “At your service.”

Lachlan started over toward the body moaning on the ground. “Who did I hit?”

“Chief.”

He groaned, realizing the leader of the Highland Guard was sitting with his helmed head between his hands. From the dent on the nasal guard and the blood running down his nose, it looked like the small piece of metal between his eyes had saved him from much worse injury.

“I feel like a damn church bell,” MacLeod groaned. “My head is ringing. What the hell was that?”

Lachlan grinned. It wasn’t often that he had the chance to best Tor MacLeod, but he savored it when he did. “A piece of my manacle.” He smirked pointedly. “Bàs roimh Gèill.” Death before surrender, he reminded him.

“Nice shot,” MacLeod said with another wince as he wiped some of the blood from his face. “You’ve learned a few things after all.”

Lachlan held out his hand and helped him to his feet. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

MacLeod gave him a dark look. “Forget what I said. You haven’t learned shite.”

“Couldn’t leave you here to rot, cousin,” MacSorley said from above. “Next time you might try asking for help before you go running off on your own.”

Lachlan’s jaw clenched as he looked at MacLeod. “I assume you know this mission wasn’t exactly sanctioned by the king.”

“Aye, we’ll have a little talk about your problem following orders later. But Hawk’s right. Next time don’t go off on a rogue mission without help. It took a hell of a lot of work to find you—not to mention trying to get you out of here. We had the devil of a time with the locks.” He gave him a hard look. “And don’t forget I’ve had an unsanctioned mission of my own.”

Lachlan knew he referred to the rogue mission on the castle where MacLeod’s wife was being held. A mission they’d all joined in.

Lachlan had underestimated them, and he knew it. He nodded in acknowledgment.

MacLeod turned up to MacSorley. “Hawk, throw down that bloody rope.”

While his cousin took turns lifting them out of the pit prison, Lachlan explained what had happened, and MacLeod gave him a quick summary of how they’d managed to get into the castle. It was similar to how they’d entered on the first attempt to free Bella. Boyd and Seton had snuck in earlier in the day with a supply cart and hid in the granary until nightfall. To provide as much time as possible, they’d waited for the guard at the postern sea-gate to change, and then made their move: eliminating the soldiers, donning their garb (much as Lachlan had done), and assuming their position on the wall. They’d signaled MacLeod and the rest of the Highland Guard, who were waiting on a beach nearby.