Seduced By Her Highland Prisoner: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance

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Seduced By Her Highland Prisoner: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 8

by Alisa Adams


  “Naebody uses this gate except the hunters and foresters who range in the woods here,” explained MacPherson. “Ye will be safe goin’ that way. Good luck.”

  “Thank you so much for your generosity and assistance, it is much appreciated,” Adaira said, with Rodric in agreement.

  He raised a hand in farewell and then turned, sprinting off among the cottages before disappearing.

  “I don’t like running like this. Not at all,” said Rodric through gritted teeth. His fists were clenched and he was looking back in the direction of the main gate.

  “Neither do I,” said Adaira, “but we have little choice. It would be worse for the village if we were found hiding there. This way, both we and the villagers have a chance of escaping the wrath of MacCormick. Perhaps this might even throw him off our tracks.”

  Rodric took a deep breath. “You are right, of course,” he said. “It’s hard for me to flee from enemies, but it must be done.”

  “Remember our bigger goal,” Adaira chided him. “Peace between the clans.”

  When her eyes met his, she saw the fury in them cool a little. He nodded, slowly.

  “Come on, then,” she smiled, and took him by the hand.

  Together, they headed through the gate and into the wooded country beyond.

  The land climbed steeply. They spoke little as they scrambled up the rocky, tree-clad slopes until they reached a vantage point from where they could look down on the village and see the whole scene. They lay side by side at the edge of a small cliff and watched together. It was not a scene that made either of them feel any better.

  Below, the village lay like a child’s toy, every detail lit up in the bright sunlight of the late spring morning. Outside the gates, some fifty mounted men stood in a group, waiting patiently, while inside a small group of ten riders held their horses’ heads in the village market square. Adaira and Rodric could see a group of villagers apparently remonstrating with the soldiers, and as they watched, to their horror, they saw one of the soldiers strike a man. He dropped like a sack.

  As if at a signal, the other soldiers fanned out, moving into the village. The other villagers ran away, two carrying their unconscious comrade to safety.

  “I can’t watch this,” said Rodric. She could feel the tension and outrage emanating from him as he lay beside her.

  “What can we do?” she asked helplessly. Below them, people were being rousted out of their houses as soldiers went in to search for the fugitives. Outside the gate, more of the soldiers were dismounting and heading for the entrance. A curl of smoke began to rise from one of the buildings.

  “I don’t know what I can do,” said Rodric, “but I know what I cannot do. I cannot sit here and watch these soldiers put that village to the torch. My honor will not allow it!”

  He stood to his full height, then turned to her. “Wait here,” he commanded.

  “I’ll do nothing of the kind!” she snapped. “If you are going back down to help them, then I’m coming too.

  Rodric looked shocked for a moment, then he smiled. “So be it,” he said. “If this is what we must do, then let us do it together.”

  Adaira felt pride swell in her chest at his bravery. Together, they made their way downhill, back to the village of Auldford.

  11

  The Battle of Auldford

  In the minutes it took them to get back down to the little back gate into Auldford, the situation had gone from bad to much worse. The black smoke from a burning thatch roof choked the air, and they could hear angry and frightened voices shouting from near the market square.

  Rodric sprinted down the sloping main street between the tightly-packed buildings and Adaira followed close behind him. He was unarmed, and she was not sure what he would be able to do in the village’s defense but was very impressed at his bravery.

  As they rounded the corner of a house, a man stepped from the doorway alone. He was dressed in the red and green of the MacCormicks. Without hesitation, Rodric barrelled into him, knocking him back into the wall where he fell, stunned. The man’s broadsword slipped from his grasp, and Rodric snatched it up.

  “We must get to the market square,” he said to Adaira grimly. “That’s where most of the villagers are.”

  When they arrived in the square, they found a tragic sight. Some thirty of the villagers had armed themselves with whatever weapons they had been able to find, but they stood at bay with their backs to the wall of the inn, surrounded by a ring of MacCormick soldiers. The villagers outnumbered their tormentors three to one, but it was clear that there was none among them with enough authority, or skill in using weapons, to lead the others in a charge against the highly trained and heavily armed soldiers. In the midst of the crowd, carrying an old-fashioned sword and looking scared, was their friend the innkeeper.

  Rodric did not hesitate. He and Adaira had come out into the square from a different direction so that they were facing the back of the group of MacCormick soldiers. Rodric let out a fierce battle cry and charged across the small space. Before they knew what had hit them, two of the soldiers had fallen before his charge. The rest gave back a few steps, milling about in surprise and fear as they tried to respond to this new threat. Rodric waded in, swinging about him with his heavy sword.

  With a sudden shout of surprise and encouragement, MacPherson led the group of villagers in a charge at the remaining soldiers. It did not last long. The six men who were left turned and fled from the market square, two of them dropping their swords as they ran.

  A great shout of victory came up from the ragged group of beleaguered villagers, but Rodric held up a hand to stop them as they began to run after the fleeing soldiers.

  “Hold! Hold!” he shouted, and the villagers stopped in their tracks, gathering around him instead. Adaira walked up and stood beside him, and the gathered people looked at the two of them in wonder.

  “Ye came back!” said MacPherson.

  “Aye, we did,” said Adaira, breathlessly. “We couldn’t sit by and watch those soldiers destroy the village.”

  “But we have no time to discuss it,” Rodric cut in. “Those men will be back, and with more of their fellows this time. They will show no mercy. We must be swift and show them an organized defense if we wish to save the village.”

  “Then we must go to the gate since that is where the worst of the fighting will be. It will be best if they do not get in at all,” said Adaira.

  “Adaira is right,” said Rodric. “You, villagers, pick up these swords and shields that have been dropped by the soldiers and distribute them amongst yourselves. Let us go to the gate!”

  Adaira fell back towards the rear of the crowd as the villagers began to make their way towards the gateway. As they went, she saw more people come out of their houses, where they had been hiding. She was very impressed at Rodric's ability to rally these folk. They were tough, and ready to defend their village. All they had needed was a leader. Now, they clustered around him, and with his great height, he stood head and shoulders above the crowd.

  The MacCormick soldiers were gathering outside the gate for a charge, but there were no more inside the village. With the rest, Adaira moved forward to seek orders from Rodric, who had become the leader of the defense. He had been directing the men to reinforce the gate and to take up positions on the palisade wall. Now, his eyes turned to Adaira, who stood near.

  A group of other village women, young and old, had gathered around her after seeing that she had arrived with Rodric.

  “Adaira,” Rodric called to her. “You and these other women must work together to fight the fires. If these soldiers get into the village, they will seek to set fire to the houses, and especially to the thatched roofs. Be ready with buckets of water. There is no point in keeping the invaders out of the village if we let it burn down behind us.”

  Adaira saw the sense in this and moved quickly to follow his instructions. The other women brought buckets, pots, and all the heavy woolen blankets they could bring. They
set up a human chain from the well in the middle of the village to the one house whose thatch was on fire, and quickly doused the smoldering straw in water. Then, just as quickly, they rearranged the human chain to extend toward the gateway.

  They were just in time.

  Arrows came shooting over the wooden palisade, but they were wrapped with oil-soaked cloth which had been set alight. When they thudded into the buildings inside the palisade, the women ran to and fro, smothering the flames as quickly as they sprang up. Adaira directed their efforts, encouraging them when their courage waned, running back and forth and keeping their spirits up. On the wall, Rodric performed the same role for the men.

  When she looked up, Adaira could see his tall, proud figure, striding back and forth along the palisade, encouraging the villagers who responded with flights of arrows from hunting bows, and volleys of rocks from slings. They were not able to inflict much damage on the heavily-armored soldiers, but at least they were able to keep them at bay.

  At last, the ammunition on both sides ran out. The soldiers beyond the gate backed away, going back up the slope in a huddled group. A cheer went up from the defenders.

  Adaira went up to the rampart and looked down at the land beyond. “We’ve seen them off, Rodric!” she said, her eyes shining. He put one brawny arm around her shoulders and hugged her close.

  “That we have, lass,” he said, smiling down at her.

  However, there was more danger in store for them. As they stood on the rampart looking out, they saw a figure on top of the hill. Adaira ducked, then peered up over the wooden parapet, but Rodric stood tall, looking out over the land. Sunset was gilding the whole scene with shades of gold, and at any other time Adaira would have admired its beauty, but not now.

  On the hilltop, an enormous figure loomed into view. He rode a massive black horse, and the MacCormick banner fluttered out behind the little squire who rode a smaller horse at his side. Fear touched cold hands to Adaira’s soul.

  “It’s John MacCormick,” she breathed. “The leader of the MacCormick clan. He’s coming for me.”

  “Stay down so he doesn’t see you!” Rodric ordered. “We’ve seen this lot off, for the moment, but we can’t withstand another attack. If he sees you he'll certainly give the order to attack again. On second thought, I had better hide too.”

  Rodric crouched down beside Adaira and together they watched as John moved up to his men and conversed with them. After a long, tense moment, he waved his hand dismissively toward the village and, to Adaira and Rodric’s great relief, he turned and led his men away up the hill and out of sight.

  “We cannot relax just yet,” said Rodric. He called out to the men on the wall, giving orders to put a strong watch over the lands. Then he raised Adaira up and kissed her softly on her lips, and together they walked down into the main square, holding hands.

  “Have the fires all been put out?” Adaira asked the other women.

  “Nearly,” said the woman who had been in charge of the team on the ground. “There has been a wee bit o’ damage, but there is nae risk tae the town. In another wee while we will be done.”

  “We couldnae have done it without ye,” another woman said gratefully, smiling.

  “Aye,” said a man. “She is right! An’ let’s no’ forget that Rodric here has done the same for the men. We wouldnae have known how tae see these attackers off if it wisnae for him.”

  The crowd broke into a cheer, and Adaira felt pride in her beloved swell in her chest as she walked beside him up to the market square, the townsfolk following. When they got to the square, they were met by the innkeeper, MacPherson, who stood in the center of the square with a few of the older men of the village. MacPherson strode forward and extended a hand to clasp Rodric’s hand in his.

  “Well,” MacPherson said, “I didnae expect that! When the soldiers came, I thought it was a’ up for us and I have tae say I regretted lettin’ ye go sae easily. But I dinnae regret it now. Ye have behaved honorably and well toward us, sir, and ye too, mistress,” he said to Adaira. “But now, I fear that they know who ye are! The soldiers made it clear who they were looking for. Rodric Montrose, heir to the Montrose clan! I didnae believe them at first, but now I dae. An’ ye, mistress, can it be true that ye are Adaira Strachan? A Strachan an’ a Montrose on the same side? This is a strange tale, tae be sure!”

  Adaira took a deep breath. Rodric reached out and took her by the hand, squeezing it gently as if to give her encouragement. There was no point in trying to deceive these good people.

  “I am,” she said boldly and simply. “Rodric and I desire peace between the clans, and I have fled my brother’s tyranny to try to achieve it.”

  The innkeeper nodded sagely. “We want peace also,” he said. “But we have long believed that the Strachans werenae interested. We knew that Montrose had sent offers of peace and tried tae speak tae you, but they werenae accepted.”

  MacPherson looked around at the men in his company and began to speak as if he was making a speech that had been previously prepared.

  “Myself and the other elders of the village of Auldford have talked aboot this. We are in the Strachan lands and have always paid taxes and been loyal tae them. Now, we want tae change our allegiance. We have seen Strachan’s allies cause harm tae our peaceful village, and we have been saved by Rodric Montrose, a man who we were always told was our enemy. Rodric, we wish tae change our allegiance and swear fealty tae ye and tae Clan Montrose.”

  Before Rodric could protest or even speak, MacPherson and the elders had stepped forward and knelt before him, presenting their swords and swearing their faith and their lives to him. Many of the villagers had drifted into the square while MacPherson had been speaking and they all stood solemnly, watching the proceedings.

  Rodric looked at Adaira, concerned that this was not part of his plan. He wanted to get to his father, to link up with the Montrose army and negotiate peace with the Strachans. Having this village swear fealty to him meant that he was obliged to take their safety into account, and that was a new complication. But Adaira’s eyes were shining with pride in him as she watched him, and his heart beat faster in his chest as he saw a growing affection there.

  The world seemed to be closing in on him, and time was running out, but he now knew that there was more at stake even than peace, or victory in war, or his father’s satisfaction with him.

  Now, he thought as he stood in the market square of Auldford, there is love at stake, and the lives of all these people. Now I must be the best man I can possibly be.

  12

  Friends Reunited

  “Are you not angry?” Rodric asked Adaira as they walked towards the inn for a whiskey.

  She shook her head. “They are not rejecting me, but the leadership of my brother, and I do not blame them. If Clan Montrose can do better for them then good luck to you!”

  After the battle, there was work to do. Rodric gave some instructions, but mostly left the villagers to sort out the tasks amongst themselves. At the beginning of the day, the villagers had been easily cowed by the intimidating soldiers, but Rodric and Adaira had shown them leadership. After the victory at the gate, the villagers had found new confidence in themselves.

  This was not lost on Adaira and Rodric. As they walked through the busy village, people smiled and nodded in acknowledgment to them, and they walked tall, seeing the positive change they had brought about.

  Scouts were sent out to roam the lands around and make sure that MacCormick and his men were truly going away. Folk labored to clear up the mess around the gatehouse and the market square. There were several injuries, but none of them was very serious, and nobody from the village had been killed.

  In the common room of the inn, Rodric and Adaira sat with MacPherson and the other village elders around a big table. MacPherson got them all food and drink—fresh bread and ripe cheese, a few of last year’s apples, and a bottle of whiskey which he portioned out very sparingly to each of them. Once they had refre
shed themselves, they fell to discussing the situation, and what they would have to do next.

  “Our plan,” said Adaira to the assembly, “was to try and get to Rodric’s father and his army, who are advancing on Castle Dunn as we speak. I fear that if we do not manage to do that, my clan will be destroyed since my brother refuses to negotiate for peace no matter what.”

  “Adaira has changed my mind about the situation. I was set on the destruction of my enemy clan, but now, I too desire peace,” said Rodric. “Between us, Adaira and I believe we can achieve it if we can only get back to my father before the battle takes place.”

  “Do ye know where yer father is?” asked one of the men. Rodric shook his head, looking troubled.

  “I do not, not for sure,” he replied. “I know he was advancing toward Castle Dunn, but I have no way of knowing for sure where he has got to. Now that you have given me oaths of loyalty, I feel an obligation to stay here and look after you as well.”

  MacPherson shook his head, frowning. “No, Rodric,” he said. “We desire peace as well, and we ask ye tae dae what ye can tae stop this from goin’ any further, but until that happens, we know that we a’ must make sacrifices. We will send a group o’ our men wi’ ye when ye go, an’ we will show ye a path that we know through the hills, that will take ye back north and past Castle Dunn by a safe way. Doin’ that, we may help ye tae get yer father and make the peace that everybody wants so much.”

  “Everyone but my brother,” said Adaira. She sounded despondent, and Rodric reached over the table and squeezed her hand comfortingly. “I don’t understand how he can’t see that it’s better for everyone to avoid war?”

  “Youth can be foolish,” said MacPherson, shaking his head. “The less they know, the mair they think they know!”

 

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