"I heard Ian was back," he said to Campbell in a low voice. "Where is he? He isnae hurt?"
Alistair beamed, looking sickeningly pleased. "The opposite, lad. Yer older brother has returned triumphant. He's just preparin' our gift for us. Ye'll be pleased tae see what's waitin' for us—a true symbol of our family legacy bein' reunited once and for all."
Puzzled and even more worried, Christopher remained silent as the whispers and contemplation got louder around the hall. He glanced to his other side and saw Robert Caindach frowning,a thoughtful expression on his face to cover the simmering anger that was clear under his eyes.
Christopher's muscles clenched in worry for Morag, but he stayed in his seat, breathless with anticipation. His instincts screaming that whatever was about to walk through the side door to the Great Hall was going to change the tide of his war forever.
Caindach and another few lairds left the room, though Christopher could not pay attention to where they might be going. His sole focus was ahead of him.
Maybe this was good. Maybe now that Ian was back, he could get him alone and talk to him. Maybe there was time to turn him to the right sideandsave Morag. He just had to?—
The door opened and Ian walked through. He wore a clean bandage around his head and his lip was split and bruised, but he was smiling in triumph in a way that made his injuries barely noticeable. The room fell into a hushed silence as Ian strolled through and beckoned for his men to follow. Two burly soldiers did, each of them dragging a bound prisoner.
Christopher fought to keep any reaction off his face as he saw the two hooded, tied-up figures, one with the body and torn dress of a woman and the other the thin, gangly body of a young man. His heart squeezed with pity for them, whoever they were.
"Bring them forward," Ian ordered.
The soldiers did, bringing the prisoners right to the dais and then forcing them to their knees. The young man writhed, and Ian moved forward and kicked him hard. He fell to his side with a muffled yell. The gurgled sound of a woman's sobbing through a gag was the only other sound in the room.
"Father. Brother. See the fruits of our labor. Father, see how Murdoch has finally contributed tae our family name."
"What?" Christopher asked, unable to stop the word from coming out as his whole body tightened with horror. He stared atthe figures, the mounting realization too terrible to contemplate. "What have ye done?"
"What ye suggested!" Ian replied. "All this time, we've been preparin' tae attack the Murrays while they gather allies and prepare tae defend themselves. But I realized somethin' very important when ye introduced me tae that fine horse. Why put ourselves at a disadvantage? We force the Murrays tae attack usfirst. We bring them north and into ourownterrain."
He moved forward and put a hand on Christopher's shoulder in a friendly, brotherly way that felt as heavy as a poisonous snake draped around his neck.
"How tae do that? Simple. We need a hostage, one who's important nae only tae the Murrays but tae all of the most powerful parts of their alliance," Ian continued. "Ye gave me the answer, Murdoch. Who better than Seamus Murray's own kin, a daughter of McKenzie, and a lover of the Kincaid heir?"
Christopher had to bite his tongue and put all the remaining control he had toward not outwardly reacting. As Ian made his proclamation, the two soldiers whipped the hoods off the prisoners' heads. Though Christopher had already known who he was going to see, his heart still sank and he had to furiously blink horrified tears from his eyes.
Alexandra McKenzie was as beautiful as ever, but a long cut marred her face under one of her blue eyes, and her chestnut hair was mussed and pulled loose from her braid. Her eyes were red and her cheeks soaked with tears. Her dress was torn, with bruises and cuts all over the visible parts of her arms and legs.
Rory was even worse off, one eye swollen shut, his left arm hanging at an odd angle as he lay on the floor where Ian had knocked him, though he still struggled against his bonds. Both of them paled with shock as they saw Christopher staring down at them, and both immediately began trying to scream through their gags.
"Let them speak," Alistair announced, grinning. "I'd hear their protests."
The soldiers ripped the gags from the McKenzies' mouths, and Alexandra immediately cried out, "Christopher! Thank God! Please, ye?—"
"Kent ye were a traitor!" Rory exclaimed in the opposite tone from his sister. "I told them, nae matter how much Arran tried tae defend ye?—"
"Enough," Ian declared.
He nodded at his soldier, who kicked Rory hard in the stomach. Rory coughed hard, blood spluttering from his lips, and Alexandra screamed with a sound that pierced Christopher's heart.
"There, ye see? Are ye pleased, Murdoch?"
Christopher swallowed the pain in his voice and asked, "How?"
"Me scouts captured a group of Kincaid soldiers a few days ago. We tortured the information from them, and then I laid a trap. It was easy enough tae intercept these two and kill their guards once we knew they were comin’," Ian explained, delighted.
He released Christopher's shoulder and moved over to where Alexandra knelt. Crouching down before her, he held her chin and forced her to look up at him.
"Ye're a bonny lass. When Murdoch told me that Arran Kincaid was sweet on ye, I kent I must have ye for a hostage. Perhaps I'll even allow ye tae grace me bed. Would ye like that?"
Alexandra tried to pull away from him. "I'd rather die!"
Christopher couldn't see Ian's face, but he knew that he was smirking. "Be careful what ye wish for, lass," Ian warned, releasing her chin and patting her cheek. He stood straight again. "Yer resistance will make ye all the more fun tae tame. Ye'll remain untouched until the Murrays fall, never fear. Afterthat, I'll let ye live as a servant and one of me personal mistresses. Never let it be said that I'm nae generous."
