The way Amiel retched and muttered vile curses against her under his breath should have terrified her, Arianna thought. Instead, she moved to kick him again, trying to strike a blow to his head. The men flanking her put a stop to that and she sighed. As Amiel stumbled to his feet, his expression a twisted grimace of pain and fury, she knew that even threatening him with the anger of the DeVeaux would not stop him from beating her to death now.
When Amiel swung his fist at her it hit her hard enough to send her staggering into one of the men guarding her. She cursed the man for that as it kept her upright and made it easier for Amiel to keep pummeling her. When the man finally moved, if only to get out of the way of Amiel’s flailing fists, she fell to the ground and braced herself for the hard kicks she knew would come next.
Instead, a heated argument ensued. She was fighting unconsciousness so fiercely that she caught only a few words, but Lord Ignace DeVeaux was mentioned several times. It was strange that the man’s name was not enough to terrify Amiel out of his rage, and she had to wonder if they were being chased by the winemaker and not the torturer. The men were still trying to remind Amiel yet again of his obligations, but she knew they would fail. She had seen her death in Amiel’s eyes.
She struggled up onto her hands and knees, and she prayed that Brian had returned for her and was, even now, coming to rescue her. It was the only hope she had of surviving.
Chapter 13
“Easy, lad. Ye cannae just ride o’er them,” Sigimor said as he grabbed the reins of Brian’s mount to halt his cousin’s attempt to gallop off.
Brian nearly yanked the reins back but good sense pierced his fury. Sigimor was right, although he would prefer to cut out his own tongue before telling his cousin that. Fergus’s report of what was happening to Arianna but a short ride away had blinded him with fury. He was also angry with himself for attempting to charge over the land with nothing but his fear for Arianna to lead him. It was only Sigimor’s calm leadership that had kept him on the right trail.
From the moment she had been taken, he had had to struggle fiercely against the fear for her and the fury against himself for not keeping her safe. Worse, there had been no sign that it had been a carefully planned attack. Lucette and his men had simply stumbled upon the prize they had been scouring Scotland for. Brian could not help but take the blame for that upon his shoulders. He had known Lucette was out there somewhere, that the man had too much knowledge about the places Arianna might go to seek safety, and he should have taken more care with her.
“How long do ye intend to wear that hair shirt?” asked Sigimor even as he signaled his men to dismount and secure the horses.
“I should have stayed with her,” Brian said as he dismounted and tugged his mount deeper into the shadows of the trees, securing the reins to a low-hanging branch. “I kenned that Lucette was aware of where Arianna might run to yet I left her to try to see exactly where the fool was. I kenned he was on the same trail. I didnae need to see that with my own eyes.”
“Nay, ye did. He might ken where she will go but he doesnae ken the exact path or even have to take it.”
“Nay, it didnae matter. Since they were nay anywhere in sight or riding up our arses, I could have let it be.”
“Nay, ye couldnae have and ye will ken it when ye clear your wee head. Hold,” he snapped when Brian opened his mouth to continue the argument. “Someone approaches,” Sigimor said, and drew his sword. “One. Coming slowly. Hide.”
Brian joined the others in slipping silently into the shadows. A man rode into the small clearing where they had all stood but a heartbeat before and Brian immediately recognized him as Sir Anton, one of Lucette’s men. Staying close to his cousin, he stepped out into the clearing while Sigimor swiftly snatched the reins from the surprised man’s hands and held a sword on him.
Sir Anton slowly raised his arms. “I am not your enemy,” he said.
“Nay? I saw ye with Lucette,” said Brian. “Ye ride with the pig. Has he sent ye to watch for us?”
“No. The fool, he does not think to look for anyone to follow or hunt for the Lady Arianna. He holds the same blind contempt for the lady as his brother did, and for all who live in this country. I but try to make my way home.”
“Ye are leaving his service?”
“I was never in his service. I was asked by the Lady DeVeau to join them on this journey and one does not refuse the DeVeaux, not if one is married to one of their women. I intend to get home now. I will collect my family and retire to the lands my father holds. I am nay sure I will be in danger but I am thinking the Lady DeVeau is as bad as so many others in that family.”
“It might help if ye stop bleeding first,” said Sigimor. “Anger your fool of a laird, did ye?”