“I dinnae see we have any other—”
A shout made them both pause and turn. A hay cart, not far from the stables had caught alight and flames crackled their way across it with frightening speed. Men scrambled from the walls and hurried to the well in search of buckets. Finn scowled. There were no open fires nearby. No one would be fool enough to leave a cart near one anyhow—castles went up in flames too easily with their wooden interiors. Yet he would not complain.
Both men at the rear door abandoned their station and helped to tackle the fire. Assuring himself Dìleas was safe—the fire was far enough away from the stables and his horse was too canny to remain should the worst happen—he dashed across the bailey, not even checking if Logan followed.
Hauling open the door, he raced down the steps into the dark interior of the passageway and paused to find his bearing. Logan bumped into his back and muttered an apology.
“It’s darker than the depths of a loch here,” the man grumbled.
“Aye. Well yer meant to be in charge of this damned keep so ‘tis yer fault for not keeping the torches lit.”
“Ach, there’s no point. Kilcree hasnae seen war for a long time and we have no need for escape passages.”
“Apart from this day,” Finn pointed out.
Logan sighed. “Aye, apart from this day.”
“Well, there is but one way out, so we cannae go far wrong. Just watch yer footing.”
Hands to the walls, they shuffled along. The ground was wet in places and their boots slurped and slipped on the mud. Moisture and the scent of cold stone lingered in the air. With each step, Finn’s anxiousness grew. Would Catriona be well? Had Gillean harmed her? The man surely had to be addled to go to such measures, but then he could almost understand it, for Catriona had surely addled him.
Finn cursed as his toe stubbed against a step. “We are nearly there.”
“Let us pray, we are no’ against too many men,” Logan whispered.
“Ach, I am no’ afeared and nor should ye be.”
“Dinnae forget he has Lorna and K—Catriona. I will admit to being afeared for them.”
Finn clenched his hand around his sword. Logan was right. He might not be afraid for himself but for his sister and the woman he… he cared for? Aye, dread curled around his insides and twisted them until sickness pervaded every part of him.
They took the steps slowly and Finn found them to be slick under his boots. When he reached the top, he paused, eyeing the thin slit of light creeping around the wooden door. He put his ear to it and listened.
“Well?”
“Cease yer noise,” Finn snapped. “I cannae hear a thing with ye in my ear.”
Logan fell silent, save from a low grumble.
“I cannae tell. Do ye know where he is holding the women?”
“Nay.”
“Ach, and I thought this to be practically yer keep.”
“I do all the work, Gillean reaps the rewards.”
“I know well enough ye dinnae do it for Gillean.”
Logan smacked Finn’s shoulder with a snort. “Are we to rescue these lasses or not?”
Drawing in a breath and curling his hand around his sword, Finn eased open the door and stepped out. The wooden stairs to the gallery hid the entranceway but Finn winced as reeds crackled underfoot. He peered around the banister and frowned.
“Where the devil is—”
“Finn mac Chaluim, I dinnae know why ye think ye need to sneak around my keep.”
Logan released a soft, “Damnation,” behind him as Gillean stepped into view.
“Finn!” Catriona cried.
Finn’s insides curled up even tighter when he noted the frail figure clamped to Gillean’s side. He had a hand wrapped around her throat. It took all Finn’s willpower not to obey the anger surging through his body that begged him to power into the man and pound him until senseless.
“Ye’ll drop the sword if ye dinnae mind, Finn.”
Teeth gritted, Finn released the sword slowly, the clatter making Catriona flinch. He caught her gaze and willed her to stay calm. He did not need her losing her breath and swooning at this moment. At the same time, he hoped he conveyed his intent to rescue her.
Somehow.
“Take them to the donjon,” Gillean ordered, motioning to the two men guarding the hall doors.
Logan let out a growl as one of them snatched his arm but Finn remained relaxed, the threatening hand on Catriona’s throat dictating his moves while irons were clamped around his wrists. She wriggled against the hold and her face reddened when Gillean squeezed, forcing her to freeze.
“If ye harm her,” Finn warned as he was led up to the stairs, “I shall kill ye, I swear it.”