Rebbie snorted. "You're the luckiest bastard I've ever seen."

"Nay, just canny."

"Pah!"

They entered the low-ceilinged underground room where his brother and a few other men waited, including his cousins, Fergus and Angus. Several candles and a torch lit the room.

Alasdair motioned for Lachlan to join him at the table in the center of the room. "Bring them in," he told one of his guards.

Moments later, the guard returned, leading a bound man, one of the Drummagans Lachlan had never grown close to. A quiet man with steely, suspicious eyes.

"What can you tell us about the false documents Kormad had drawn up?" Lachlan asked.

"I ken naught of it." He set his determined jaw. This was likely a man who would not even crack under torture.

"Do you know where the papers are now?"

The man shook his head. This was a waste of time.

After they'd questioned two more men, both with lips sealed tight, Lachlan said, "Bring in Bryson."

The guard nodded and shoved the uncooperative man out the door.

That his sword bearer had turned against him surprised Lachlan most and sickened him. He had truly thought Bryson loyal above all others, except maybe Heckie. And he had no inkling where Heckie was at the moment. Safe, he hoped.

Moments later, the guard pushed Bryson into the room. He stood before them, his hands tied behind his back.

"Bryson, I am most disappointed to find you riding with Kormad," Lachlan said.

The stocky, dark-haired man glanced at the closed door. "I'm not with him," Bryson whispered. "I'm still loyal to you, chief."

Lachlan studied the man's dark eyes, unable to read the sincerity. He didn't know the man well enough. Damnation, he was an idiot for trusting so easily. And now, what if this was a lie? "You sure as the devil fought hard against us last night. Why should I believe you?"

"I've come to help you defeat Kormad and that Frenchman, but I don't want them to know. They'll kill my family if they find out."

"They have threatened your family?"

"Aye!"

"Do you know where the false papers are? We searched Kormad and they were not on his person. Nor were they on his horse."

"They're back at Burnglen, hidden. But I don't know where exactly."

"How many men did he leave there to guard?"

"Three that I know of. He left more to guard Draughon."

The bastard. "How many Drummagans turned traitor?"

"About twenty men. They locked the others up in the dungeon."

Lachlan was glad to know Kormad hadn't killed the rest. Still, they might be injured. He needed to see them released and safe as soon as possible. "I thank you, Bryson. Are you willing to travel back to Kormad's estate with us and help find the papers?"

"Aye." Bryson knelt on one knee much as he had done when he pledged his loyalty the first time. His gaze was dark but respectful.

A bit of the pressure lifted from Lachlan's chest when another Drummagan vowed his loyalty, agreed to help and was released. Alasdair set guards on the two men and didn't allow them any weapons. Lachlan's plan was that three dozen of them, mostly MacGraths, would leave early the next morning for Kormad's estate. Lachlan would lead them while Alasdair would remain behind to guard Angelique and the others. Once Lachlan had the false papers, they would reclaim Draughon. Now, he but had to tell Angelique his plans and hope she didn't fight him on it.

***

Kormad ground his teeth and cursed. He hated this despicable, dark and cold dungeon. Pike and several of his men waited in this cell with him. What was taking Bryson so damned long? Kormad had told him what to do two nights ago, pretend loyalty to Lachlan MacGrath and get them out of this hellhole. He had chosen Bryson for this task for three reasons. One, since he was MacGrath's sword bearer, MacGrath would be more likely to trust him. Two, Bryson was highly skilled. And, three, he had a family. If Bryson didn't obey orders, the man's wife and son would die. Kormad would make sure of it. He had them detained in the dungeon back at Draughon with orders to one of his guards, if he didn't return by a specified date, to kill them.

Kormad had always heard Highlanders were ruthless, but he was starting to doubt it. This MacGrath chief hadn't even tortured any of them for information. He was so soft and lenient, Kormad was sure he posed no threat if only they could get these cells unlocked.

A door in the distance opened and closed, then running footsteps sounded.

"I think he's coming," Kormad said.

His men stood, breaths held. A lantern appeared.

The cell lock clicked and the door opened. "Hurry, 'tis almost dawn." Bryson waved them forward.

"Ah, Bryson!" Kormad said. "I kenned you could do it. Release the rest of my men." He motioned to the other cells.

One of the other Drummagans, a friend of Bryson's, helped him, no doubt for the same cause, to save Bryson's family. Kormad might even let them live.

"Where shall we find weapons?" Girard asked, exiting one of the other cells. "I need at least two loaded pistols and a knife."

"Wait in line," Kormad growled. This Frenchman was trying his patience, and if he wasn't careful he would find himself downed by a stray lead ball.

"I have five of the guards' weapons hidden. They were heavily armed," Bryson said.

"How did you kill them?" Kormad loved stories of triumph, as well as pushing a man to do desperate things.

"During the night, when most were asleep and no one was looking, we silently took out our personal guards and hid the bodies, then we removed the dungeon guards, one by one, by jumping them when they least expected it and slitting their throats."

"You impress me with your skills of war, Bryson. You'll have a high position once we return to Draughon. Now, I have just one more job for you. I need you to go in and fetch that little Angelique witch. Don't kill her, but feel free to kill anyone who gets in your way."

"I can hardly wait to have her in my grasp again," Girard said, grinning like a maniac.

***

A knock sounded at Angelique's bedchamber door. Lachlan had insisted she bar it when he arose before dawn.

"Who is it?" she asked near the door.

"'Tis me, Lachlan," he said in a low tone.

Good, she must see him before his departure to Draughon. She could hardly bear that he was going to fight a battle, and with her so far away. She prayed he would not be injured.

She opened the door but Lachlan did not wait outside. Girard and Bryson stared back at her. Sharp chills paralyzed her a moment. She shoved the door to close it, but the two men forced their way inside.

"No!" She screamed. "Help!"

Girard shut the door. "Hold her. Cover her mouth," he told Bryson and the man obeyed. "You will not escape me this time, whore."

She screamed behind Bryson's dirty, bloody hand. How could the man who'd been her own father's sword bearer turn traitor? She kicked and twisted, dislodging his hand, then screamed again.

Girard slapped her hard across the cheek. Everything went black and numb for a few seconds, then she found herself face down on the floor beneath one of them. Pains shot from her elbow and knees where she had fallen on them. The side of her face burned and ached.

"Bastard!" If only she could reach her dagger, strapped to her calf, but Bryson was too strong. Despite twisting and kicking, she could not escape his iron-like grasp.