Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy 3)

“Then we must go now and ride hard,” Rionna said. “I must arrive before ’tis too late.”

CHAPTER 30

Caelen barely held back the curse as he hit the ground. Pain speared through his shoulder, spreading agonizing flame until he had to close his eyes and grit his teeth to remain silent.

His hands were tied behind his back, making the wound in his shoulder all the more painful. Gregor McDonald had torn the arrow from Caelen’s shoulder without care and Caelen had steadily bled on the rough journey to Duncan Cameron’s keep.

“I’ve brought you Caelen McCabe, Laird Cameron,” Gregor called.

Caelen opened his eyes to see Cameron standing a short distance away. Hatred was bitter in Caelen’s mouth. That the man was so close and yet Caelen was helpless to do anything but lie there made bile rise in his throat. If he could manage the feat, he’d spit in Cameron’s eye.

“So you have,” Cameron said.

He walked over to where Caelen lay on the ground and kicked at his wounded shoulder. Caelen grimaced but stared up at Cameron, allowing the full breadth of his hatred to show.

“You’d like to kill me, wouldn’t you, Caelen?” Cameron taunted in a low voice. “You hate me more than even your brothers do. ’Twas your foolishness that brought low your clan. My cousin is bonny, is she not? I haven’t seen her in some time. She’s likely spreading her legs for some other poor besotted fool.”

Caelen continued to stare at Cameron until Cameron fidgeted uncomfortably and then booted Caelen in the shoulder again.

“I wonder if given a choice between saving his brother’s life or protecting his lovely wife and daughter, which would Ewan choose? Surely not the brother who once cost him everything. Tell me, Caelen, how would it make you feel to know you destroyed all your brother holds dear a second time?”

Cameron knelt beside Caelen’s head, wrapped his hand in Caelen’s hair, and yanked upward so their faces were just inches apart.

“He won’t have to choose, because I plan to have both. You’re of no consequence to me. I’ll not blink an eye over your death, and then I’ll destroy your clan and the king you’re so loyal to.”

As he stared into Cameron’s eyes, the question that Rionna had posed floated back into his mind.

“Why?” he asked. “Why did you do it? If you’re going to kill me anyway, then tell me why you destroyed my clan eight years ago. We were no threat to you.”

Cameron rose and took a step back, a hatred that mirrored Caelen’s own reflected in his gaze.

“You’d never heard of me until that day, had you?” He shook his head. “How like your father to have never mentioned me or my father. You aren’t the only one with reason to hate, Caelen. Your father took what was mine. I returned the favor.”

“You’re daft,” Caelen said hoarsely. “My father was a peaceful man. He wouldn’t wage war against anyone. Not unless provoked.”

Cameron pressed his boot to Caelen’s throat, pinning him to the ground. “Oh aye, he was a peaceful man. Do you want to know why? He made a vow after my father’s death. His guilt was too much for him to bear. He swore on my father’s grave never to pick up arms again. I know. I was there. I heard his vow. I heard his apology to my mother. He patted me on the head as he walked away. Patted me on the head as if that would bring me a measure of comfort when my father was in the ground. If I’d had a sword, your father would have died that day and bled to death atop my father’s grave. I would have seen to it.”

“You lie,” Caelen ground out. “My father never spoke of you or your father.”

“Your father was a coward. He fought alongside my father and when my father was felled from his horse, he left him to die there. He turned his back on the man he called friend, and he ran from the battlefield. And do you know, just before your father drew his last breath, I reminded him of that boy he patted on the head at my father’s grave. Do you know what his last words were, Caelen?”

Caelen swallowed against the rage knotting his throat. His blood pumped so furiously through his veins that he feared exploding.

Cameron leaned down again so that he was close to Caelen’s ear. “He said he was sorry again. And then he begged me to spare his grandson’s life.”

“And so you murdered and raped the boy’s mother instead,” Caelen snarled.

“If I could have found the brattling, I would have spitted him on my sword. My only regret is that you and your brothers were not there the day I attacked. It would have brought me great satisfaction to have destroyed every last McCabe.”

“I’ll see you in hell for what you’ve done,” Caelen vowed.

Cameron straightened and motioned toward his men. “Take him to the dungeon. I cannot bear to look upon his face a moment longer. Killing him now is too good a fate. I want him to suffer as my father suffered when he slowly bled to death on that battlefield.”

Three of Cameron’s men yanked Caelen to his feet and dragged him toward the small entryway with the steps leading into the darkness below. A fourth man bore a torch down into the cold, damp corridor.

At the end of it, a yawning hole opened in the floor, and without warning Caelen was shoved down. He pitched forward into the blackness and was suspended momentarily in the air before landing on the stone floor below. His injured shoulder took the brunt of the fall and he cried out as agony tore down his back and arm, numbing his hand.

He sucked in deep breaths as he battled unconsciousness. He tasted blood and realized he’d bitten his lip.