Page 61 of Connal

Shaw held up a small purse. “Silver for the truth.”

The men began murmuring, and at last one burly, sad-faced docker came over to them and said, “They came after dawn with her, and took her up the hill road to the west of town. ’Tis only Haig’s house on the cliff up there, and he’s gone missing a time now.”

Connal put a hand on his shoulder. “My thanks, friend.”

“We shall pay you when we return,” Shaw said.

“I dinnae want your coin,” the docker said. “From the look of her, the poor lass took a hard beating from those bastarts. ’Twas no way to treat such a wee fine lady.”

“Why didnae you stop them?” Connal demanded.

“Too many for me to fight to free her, and they’re no’ right.” He grimaced. “They looked like sailors, but mince more than walk. Aye, and the lot reek of boak and dirty fur, like sick cats.” He shook his head. “Like nightmares dressed up as sailors.”

Outside the tavern Shaw related the docker’s tale to the other men, while Connal looked toward the west of town. He knew the cliff just beyond the merchant’s house only too well; he’d watched his wife jump from it a year past.

Must I see another woman I love dead?

“We’ll go and search the place, my lord,” Nyall said, coming to stand beside him. “You should wait here.”

“You reckon I’m too facking cowardly go?” he demanded.

The captain shook his head. “Your mortal weakness shall defeat you. Aye, and you’ve endured enough pain, my lord.”

“My pain and your meddling put my woman in danger. We go and fight for her together.” He started for the hill road.

Shaw and Nyall flanked him as they made their way through the harborside and walked up the road leading up the hill. Connal could sense the dizziness ready to beset him, but kept his gaze fixed on the horizon. The chieftain signaled for them to halt and scatter, and as Connal took cover behind some brambles he saw why. Two sailors, both moving with small steps, stood watch at the top of the road. Just looking at them made Connor’s temper seethe.

“We’ll charge the watchers,” Shaw told him, drawing his sword. “You and Nyall, go round the back of the house. No doubt they’ve confined the lady inside.”

He nodded. “Stay alive.”

All of the men but him and the captain ran up the road and rushed at the watching sailors, who screeched and fled. As more sailors appeared to fight the clansmen, the laird paused for a moment to see his brothers wade into them. Jamaran had been swarmed, but without greater numbers the enemy was proving no match for the clan.

Connal nodded to Nyall, and hurried with him off the road and along the hillside. When they were out of sight, they scrambled up to the edge of the promontory, where they ran to the back of the house. A heavy, pale-haired woman screeched as she yanked open a door and came at them swinging her arms like cudgels, her hands crooked and huge black claws sprouting from her fingers.

Connal punched her in the face, knocking her out cold on the ground. When a smaller female emerged and tried to stab him in the chest, Nyall grabbed her from behind and clamped his arms around her.

“Go,” the captain said.

Connal ran through the door and paused briefly in the small kitchen. He drew his dagger from the sheath at his waist. Voices came from the front of the house, but none that he recognized as Valerie’s. Silently, he crept into the short hallway.

Where do they keep her?

He crossed a branching passageway, glancing left and right, before he chanced a quick look into the front room. Two women with their backs to him were dragging a table across the floor. Valerie was not there.

As he backed up a pace, a hand gripped his shoulder. He spun and the tip of the blade paused just in front of Nyall’s throat. His captain lowered his eyes to it and then looked at the front room. Connal shook his head and nodded toward the side passages. Quietly, as they retraced their steps, Connal motioned for Nyall to take one passage, then he took the other.

Only one door lay ahead of him, at the very end of the dark hall. Dagger in front, he slowly grasped its handle and opened the door inward. A faint creak sounded, stopping him, until the sounds of more furniture scraping across the floor came from the front room. Slowly he pushed the door open and peered into the darkness. A few barrels and crates were stacked in the corner, but there, in the center of the floor, he saw the faint gleam of Valerie’s curls. He sheathed the dagger and snatched her up from the floor.

“Hi.” Her battered face lit up with a smile. “Can I stay with you?”

Cradling her against his chest, Connal kissed her gently, and then looked through the open door to see Nyall, the corner of his mouth crooked up. More scraping sounds came from the front of the house.

Connal grasped Valerie tighter, while keeping his eyes on the captain. “We need a diversion.”

Nyall’s eyes darted sideways. “I shall lead them to the rear door and down the hill.” Before Connal could warn him to use care, the captain was gone. In another moment, his voice rang out clear. “Come lads, through the kitchen!”

The sound of pounding feet in the hallway answered him. After a few seconds of silence, Connal clutched Valerie to his chest and sprinted for the front of the house. But there he skidded to a halt.