To Tame A Highland Warrior
Page 100
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A muscle twitched in Grimm’s jaw. “Right. I must have gotten turned around.”
“Well, turn back around, lad. I expect I’ll be workin’ on this wall all night,” Balder said evenly. “The whole night.”
Twenty minutes later, Jillian poked her head out the door. “Balder!” She tugged her wrapper about her shoulders, peering at him peevishly.
Balder grinned. She was lovely, flushed with sleep and obviously intent upon sneaking to Grimm’s room.
“Do you need somethin’, lass?”
“What on earth are you doing?”
He gave her the same lame excuse he’d given Grimm and plastered heartily away.
“Oh,” Jillian said in a small voice.
“Do you wish me to escort you to the kitchens, lass? Can I give you a wee tour? I’m usually up all night, and the only thing I plan to do is plaster here. Wee cracks between the stones can become great cracks in the blink of an eye if left untended.”
“No, no.” Jillian waved him away. “I just heard a noise and wondered what it was.” She bid him good night and retreated.
After she’d closed the door, Balder rubbed his eyes. By the saints, it was going to be a bloody long night.
High above Tuluth, men gathered. Two of them broke away from the main group and moved toward the bluff, talking quietly.
“The ambush didn’t work, Connor. Why the hell did you send a mere score of men after a Berserker?”
“Because you said he was probably on his way back to Tuluth,” Connor shot back. “We dinna wish to waste too many that we might be needing later. Besides, how many kegs of our black powder did you waste, only to be failing, yourself?”
Ramsay Logan scowled. “I hadn’t thought it through as well as I should have. He won’t escape the next time.”
“Logan, if you kill Gavrael McIllioch there will be gold enough to last you the rest of your days. We’ve been trying for years. He’s the last one left that can breed. That we know of,” he added.
“Are all their children born Berserkers?” Ramsay watched the lights flicker and fade in the valley.
Connor’s lip curled in disgust. “Only the sons of direct descent from the laird. The curse confines itself to the primary, paternal line. Over the centuries our clan has gathered as much information about the McIllioch as we could. We know they have only one true mate, and once their mate dies they remain celibate for the duration of their years. So the old man is no longer a threat. To the best of our knowledge, Gavrael is his only son. When he dies, that’s the end. However, during various times over the centuries they’ve managed to hide a few from us. That’s why it’s imperative that you get inside Castle Maldebann. I want the last McIllioch destroyed.”
“Do you suspect the castle is crawling with concealed blue-eyed boys? Is it possible Ronin had other sons besides Gavrael?”
“We don’t know,” Connor admitted. “Over the years we’ve heard there is a hall, a place of pagan worship to Odin. It’s supposed to be right in the heart of the mountain.” His face grew taut with fury. “Damned heathens, it’s a Christian land now! We’ve heard they practice pagan ceremonies there. And one of the maids we captured—before she died—said that they record each and every one of their unholy spawn in that hall. You must find it and verify Gavrael is the last.”
“You expect me to slip into the lair of such creatures and spy? How much gold did you say was in this for me?” Ramsay bargained shrewdly.
Connor regarded him with the fanaticism of a purist. “If you prove he’s the last and succeed in killing him, you can name your price.”
“I’ll get into the castle and take the last Berserker down,” Ramsay said with relish.
“How? You’ve failed three times now.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll not only get to the hall, I will take his mate, Jillian. It’s possible she’s pregnant—”
“By Christ’s blessed tears!” Connor shuddered with disgust. “After you use her, kill her,” he ordered.
Ramsay raised a hand. “No. We will wait to see if she’s pregnant.”
“But she’s been tainted—”
“I want her. She’s part of my price,” Ramsay insisted. “If she’s carrying his child, I’ll keep her under close guard until she gives birth.”
“If it’s a son you kill it, and I’ll be there to watch. You say you hate the Berserkers, but if you thought you could breed them into your clan, you might feel differently.”
“Well, turn back around, lad. I expect I’ll be workin’ on this wall all night,” Balder said evenly. “The whole night.”
Twenty minutes later, Jillian poked her head out the door. “Balder!” She tugged her wrapper about her shoulders, peering at him peevishly.
Balder grinned. She was lovely, flushed with sleep and obviously intent upon sneaking to Grimm’s room.
“Do you need somethin’, lass?”
“What on earth are you doing?”
He gave her the same lame excuse he’d given Grimm and plastered heartily away.
“Oh,” Jillian said in a small voice.
“Do you wish me to escort you to the kitchens, lass? Can I give you a wee tour? I’m usually up all night, and the only thing I plan to do is plaster here. Wee cracks between the stones can become great cracks in the blink of an eye if left untended.”
“No, no.” Jillian waved him away. “I just heard a noise and wondered what it was.” She bid him good night and retreated.
After she’d closed the door, Balder rubbed his eyes. By the saints, it was going to be a bloody long night.
High above Tuluth, men gathered. Two of them broke away from the main group and moved toward the bluff, talking quietly.
“The ambush didn’t work, Connor. Why the hell did you send a mere score of men after a Berserker?”
“Because you said he was probably on his way back to Tuluth,” Connor shot back. “We dinna wish to waste too many that we might be needing later. Besides, how many kegs of our black powder did you waste, only to be failing, yourself?”
Ramsay Logan scowled. “I hadn’t thought it through as well as I should have. He won’t escape the next time.”
“Logan, if you kill Gavrael McIllioch there will be gold enough to last you the rest of your days. We’ve been trying for years. He’s the last one left that can breed. That we know of,” he added.
“Are all their children born Berserkers?” Ramsay watched the lights flicker and fade in the valley.
Connor’s lip curled in disgust. “Only the sons of direct descent from the laird. The curse confines itself to the primary, paternal line. Over the centuries our clan has gathered as much information about the McIllioch as we could. We know they have only one true mate, and once their mate dies they remain celibate for the duration of their years. So the old man is no longer a threat. To the best of our knowledge, Gavrael is his only son. When he dies, that’s the end. However, during various times over the centuries they’ve managed to hide a few from us. That’s why it’s imperative that you get inside Castle Maldebann. I want the last McIllioch destroyed.”
“Do you suspect the castle is crawling with concealed blue-eyed boys? Is it possible Ronin had other sons besides Gavrael?”
“We don’t know,” Connor admitted. “Over the years we’ve heard there is a hall, a place of pagan worship to Odin. It’s supposed to be right in the heart of the mountain.” His face grew taut with fury. “Damned heathens, it’s a Christian land now! We’ve heard they practice pagan ceremonies there. And one of the maids we captured—before she died—said that they record each and every one of their unholy spawn in that hall. You must find it and verify Gavrael is the last.”
“You expect me to slip into the lair of such creatures and spy? How much gold did you say was in this for me?” Ramsay bargained shrewdly.
Connor regarded him with the fanaticism of a purist. “If you prove he’s the last and succeed in killing him, you can name your price.”
“I’ll get into the castle and take the last Berserker down,” Ramsay said with relish.
“How? You’ve failed three times now.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll not only get to the hall, I will take his mate, Jillian. It’s possible she’s pregnant—”
“By Christ’s blessed tears!” Connor shuddered with disgust. “After you use her, kill her,” he ordered.
Ramsay raised a hand. “No. We will wait to see if she’s pregnant.”
“But she’s been tainted—”
“I want her. She’s part of my price,” Ramsay insisted. “If she’s carrying his child, I’ll keep her under close guard until she gives birth.”
“If it’s a son you kill it, and I’ll be there to watch. You say you hate the Berserkers, but if you thought you could breed them into your clan, you might feel differently.”
