Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,143
she heard a woman’s laughter flittering in on it, chilling her to the bone. It sounded dark and forbidding, almost ominous. Immediately, she shoved the thought aside, believing ’twas just the sound of a woman’s voice coming from within the keep. Ye are simply tired, she told herself.
For a long while, she looked out at the darkness, her mind conjuring up images of her husband being tortured, of poor Colyne being terrified. Nay, Colyne would be spitting mad, if she knew the lad at all. She sent a prayer heavenward, asking God to not only keep them safe, but for Colyne to hold his tongue and temper.
She heard Marisse’s soft footfalls coming her way, and by the sound of the other footfalls, Keevah was with her.
“Aeschene,” Marisse whispered. “How on earth did ye get up here?”
“Lachlan?” she called to him.
“Aye, m’lady,” he said as he stepped from the shadows.
Marisse and Keevah breathed a sigh of relief when they realized she hadn’t traversed the ladder and dangerous parapet by herself.
Lachlan bid them all good eve, and stepped away, leaving the three women alone to talk.
“What are ye doin’?” Keevah asked, pulling her cloak tightly around her chin. The night air was damp and chilly, the wind gusting all around them.
“Thinkin’,” Aeschene replied.
“Och! That is never good,” Marisse jested.
Aeschene smiled wanly, knowing her friend was merely attempting to make her feel better. “They’re out there, somewhere,” she told them. “My heart believes they are still alive. I refuse to think otherwise.”
She heard Marisse sniffle ever so slightly. “What hell they must be enduring’ right now,” her voice cracked as she fought against tears that wanted desperately to fall.
Aeschene and Keevah each wrapped an arm around her. “Richard and Rory are verra smart men,” Keevah said. “Why, I imagine they are planning’ their escape at this very moment.”
Aeschene was fighting to hold on to her own tears. “I pray ye are right.”
Richard believed he was getting a glimpse into what his wife’s life must be like on a daily basis. His eyes were swollen shut from the beating he’d received on their first night here; he couldn’t see a thing. His jaw still ached from the repeated blows from the guards. Past experience told him he very likely had at least two broken ribs from being kicked repeatedly. Breathing was beyond painful, ’twas damned near impossible.
They were in the bowels of Randall Chisolm’s keep, in his dungeon. The air was frigid and dank, and even after three days here, he still wasn’t used to the smell. It reeked of piss, feces, and vomit with slight undertones of decay, despondency, and death.
“Richard, I am so c-cold,” Colyne said through chattering teeth.
They were huddled together in a corner of one of the cells, with Colyne pressed in between he and Rory. If they didn’t die from a beating, they’d certainly freeze to death.
“Put yer hands under yer arms,” Rory whispered a ragged breath. He hadn’t been spared any beatings and looked just as bad as Richard.
He did as Rory instructed but it offered very little relief. “I am goin’ to kill Randall Chisolm and his men,” Colyne whispered. “I hate those bloody bastards.”
Rory grunted his approval. Richard chuckled at the boy’s tenacity, which sent a bolt of pain from his chest to his back, radiating down his left leg. “I look forward to that day,” he said with a grimace.
Torch light glowed in the distance, the sound of heavy booted feet scraping across the stone floor. At least one of the guards were headed towards them.
“Quiet down,” the guard ordered, banging the keys against the heavy steel bars.
Richard would have given the man every last coin to his name if he would give him the torch just long enough to warm up his brother.
“’Tis freezin’ in here,” Colyne said, his tone stern and biting. “Can we have a blanket?”
The guard apparently found the request hilarious. He threw his head back and laughed.
“David will nae like how ye have treated us,” Colyne told him.
“David who?”
“King David,” Colyne replied. “He was on his way to our keep when ye took us. When he finds out what ye have done, and yer poor treatment of us, ye will regret it.”
“Ye lie,” the man said with a good measure of disbelief.
Colyne shook his head in dismay. “Were I ye, I dunnae think I would be willing’ to take that chance.