Gregor snorted, stew flying out of his mouth.
“I like my hair long,” Daniel said with a shrug. “I think the beard will add to my presence. Make me look like someone who really has the devil’s hand.”
Gregor said, “I don’t think I’d tell your mother and father the name you’re using, either.”
Daniel snorted. “’Tis for a good cause, and you know it.”
Connor put his utensil down to stare at him. “’Tis the truth you speak? Because I’m not so certain anymore. I think you like your new title. Are you going to be able to walk away at the end of this?”
The words bit into Daniel, for they were more than a little true. He had to admit he felt a bit heady from the attention he was getting for being so fierce and powerful, something he’d never experienced before. He liked hearing the crowd call his name—well, not his name precisely, but Damien’s name. It made him feel…important. Seen. But he didn’t want the others to know that. Looking at his food, he said, “Of course I can walk away, but not until I’ve learned something. I’m telling you I’ve almost found out who the leader is. There could be a relationship between this group and the Channel of Dubh. I’m going to ask tonight if there’s a way I can make more coin.”
Gavin dropped his tone for effect. “You cannot bear to leave. Why not? You are being quite mysterious, Daniel Damien Demon Devil’s Hand, or whatever your name is. You’ll not get away with keeping secrets from us.”
Daniel gnawed off another chunk of bread to keep his hand busy.
“I know why this is important to him—and she has red hair,” Gregor said.
Gregor was always a wee bit more intuitive than the others. But right now, Daniel didn’t feel inclined to thank him for it. He spun around to glare at Gregor on the bench next to him. “What the hell does Constance have to do with this? Naught. Is it so odd that I like a wee bit of attention? That I appreciate being seen as strong instead of crippled? Connor, everyone looks at you and sees Alexander Grant reborn. Gavin, you’re the great Logan Ramsay’s only son, and your mother is the best archer in all the land. And Gregor, your mother is the most renowned healer in the land and you’re her only son and the son of a famous laird. What the hell am I? A second son who’s naught but a cripple. When people look at me, they see only what I lack. They pity me. Is it any surprise I like this attention and why they wager on me?”
Connor gave him a look that said he wasn’t having any of it. “You’re the lad who gained a reputation for being able to slip in and out of situations without being seen. You do it so well that you’ve earned the nickname ‘Ghost.’ Is that not enough for you? Besides, if ‘Damien’ becomes any more infamous, you’ll never be able to slip in and out of places unseen. Your fame will kill your ghost.”
Daniel stood from the table. “Nay, ’tis not enough. And it wasn’t enough for Constance either. She ran back to the abbey because she thinks I won’t be able to protect her. And until Jennet gave me this hand, I didn’t believe in myself either.” He was so upset, he stormed out of the room, nearly knocking the bench over, and ran out into the gray, foggy day.
Hellfire, but he hadn’t planned on revealing that last part. He also hated to admit that Connor was probably correct. He wouldn’t be able to move about freely in Edinburgh anymore. People would remember him.
He raced across the main road, wandered aimlessly, and then found a huge tree to lean against. He’d needed to leave the room at once, or he would have started throwing things. His cousins didn’t understand.
He didn’t wish to feel sorry for himself, but now that he’d felt the power, he couldn’t bring himself to relinquish it. Not yet.
He hadn’t been there long when Connor approached him. He stopped just opposite him. “You’re right about one thing. Losing your hand was far more difficult to overcome than anything I’ve had to do. But you have one talent that puts you way above the rest of us.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Daniel said, his arms crossed.
“You have the quickest mind of any of us. Anyone can learn to swing a sword or shoot a bow, but no one can learn how to be clever. ’Tis a gift you’ve been given. Don’t lose it over something as inconsequential as fighting for wagers. Be powerful and wise for a purpose, not just to gain a name for yourself. A name in the underground is worthless, and ’tis not a reputation to be proud of.” He paused, then added, “And I don’t think you’re seeing the situation with Constance clearly. You’re besotted and it’s clouding your judgment.”
“What? I have no idea what you are talking about. I thought we had a chance, and she ran away. What else is there to know?”
Gavin and Gregor came up behind Connor.
“What else?” Connor continued. “Have you considered why she chose to stay at the abbey rather than travel with her friend? Why she stopped talking to anyone after those men approached Braden’s gate? That poor lass is clearly running from something or someone. She’s fighting to survive, and that battle took precedence over her relationship with you. You let her go because you believed she thought you less of a man. You were wrong, Daniel, and you’ll regret it someday if you don’t help her.”
“I agree with Connor,” Gavin said, uncharacteristically serious. “Don’t take yourself out of Constance’s life yet. As far as the underground goes—if you wish to go back one more night, we’ll support you, but we need to return to our team on the morrow.”
Gregor said, “Aye, for all we know, something else may have come up and we’re searching the wrong city.”
“I hope you’ll come with us,” Connor said. He clasped Daniel’s shoulder and said, “Too many blows to your head, and you’ll not be thinking like Ghost any longer but more like Ivan.”
Daniel couldn’t help but laugh at that.
“I’m going back in to finish eating,” Connor said. “Please join us when you’re ready.”
The three returned to the inn while he continued to lean against the tree. They’d given him something to think about. Had he been wrong about sweet Constance?
Possibly, but could he walk away when he was winning?
He doubted it. He liked his title—Damien with the Devil’s Hand. Or just Devil’s Hand.
No shave, no fussing with his hair.
And his two hands.
***
Constance swiped her hands across the trews she’d donned under her gown one more time. She’d thought of just wearing the trews but decided the layers would keep her warmer. She stayed hidden in her chamber, waiting until the middle of the night to make her escape. Ada had agreed to meet her out in the gardens at midnight to help her get over the fence.
She just had to get away.
All this turmoil had proven too much for her. Every night her stomach had been upset, ever since the first set of men had arrived at the abbey in search of a flame-haired lass. She still had no idea why that first group was after her, though she knew her father wanted to find her for one reason: so he could punish her.
She pulled the red stone from her pocket and was rubbing it for luck one last time when something occurred to her.
Daniel had mentioned the stone might be valuable. What if he was right? Mayhap she could use it to barter a ride on a cart to Grant land. She’d hate to give it up because it belonged to her dear mother, but she would do whatever she had to in order to stay alive.
Then another thought occurred to her, something she’d never considered. What if this stone was extremely valuable and her mother had reported it missing to her sire? Could it be possible that he sought her out because she’d stolen the gemstone? Or mayhap they would find it and track her whereabouts?
Her eyes widened, and she shoved the necklace back into her pocket, vowing to keep it hidden.
When the time came, she crept down the staircase and out the side door. No one was about so she crept out to the bench to wait for Ada, but to her surprise, the lass was already there.
Ada held something out to her. “Here. I brought
this for you. ’Tis a dagger and you may need it.”
Constance stared at it, her eyes tearing up at the thought that she might indeed need it.
“Are you sure you wish to go to Grant land, Constance? Why not go to the castle where Rose’s friend lives? You’ve been there before. Do you not believe they would help you? They would be better suited to guide you to Grant land.”
She’d considered that possibility, but Daniel wouldn’t be there any longer. Still, Ada was right—they had been kind to her there. Perhaps they would send someone to travel with her.
“I don’t think ’twould be safe to go to the Grant land on your own,” Ada continued. “’Tis too far away from what you tell me. I asked Mother Abbess about Clan Grant and she told me they are far, far away. I don’t wish to see you hurt.”
Constance shook her head. She didn’t know what to believe or where to go. All she wished she could do was find Daniel. Or Rose. She fought to keep her tears of self-pity inside, knowing that once the dam broke she’d be deluged.
Ada said, “Go to Muir Castle. I think you’ll be safer there. ’Tis only a short jaunt compared to the other journey, and you’ll have a better chance of success. The wild animals, the reivers…how would you fight them off alone?”
Constance thought for a moment and said, “Mayhap you’re right. I think I could find my way there though ’twill take me half a day to walk.”
“You should be there before dawn if you don’t stop. Here.” She handed over a bundle of cloth. “Here’s the monk’s mantle for you to wear, as we discussed. Any reivers should leave you alone if they think you’re a man of the cloth.”
“How I wish I could steal a horse, but I don’t dare attempt it.”
“Aye, you’re not a thief either,” Ada said.
She wished that were true, but hadn’t she stolen her mother’s gemstone? There was no denying it, even though she hadn’t considered it stealing at the time. She couldn’t regret it. The stone had given her comfort and strength, almost as if her mother were with her.
“Are you sure you wish to go?” Ada reached for her hand.
“Aye.” The gesture reminded her of Rose. Oh, how she missed her dear friend, but she had to forge ahead on her own. If she left now, she could be at Grant land before winter arrived.
“Do you wish for me to go along with you?”
Ada’s question pulled her out of her melancholy. “Nay,” she shouted, dropping Ada’s hand and clapping her hand over her mouth to mask the loud sound. She would not have anyone else hurt because of her. “’Tis not safe. I remember the way to Muir Castle. I think you’re right. I’ll start there, and if they’ll not help me, I’ll make my way to Grant Castle on my own.”
“I think ’tis a wise decision,” Ada whispered. “I have something else for you.” Ada handed her another wrapped package. “There’s a hunk of cheese and bread inside. I took it while I worked in the kitchens yester eve. Use your dagger if you must. Keep it hidden in the pocket of the monk’s garment. And keep your hood up so they’ll not notice your red hair.”
She gave Ada a big hug. “My thanks to you. You’ve been verra kind to me.”
“Godspeed, lass. I hope you find him.”
“Him?”
Her friend smiled at her knowingly. “I know who your heart pines for. Go and find him. He’ll protect you.”
“Oh, Ada. If I could just find Rose, I’d be ecstatic. Daniel and me? I don’t think so. He’s of noble blood, and me?”
Ada cast her a sideways glance. “I think you’re the baron’s daughter, are you not? The one those men came searching for earlier?”
She sighed, resigned to tell all at this point. The battle to protect her identity was now over. “Aye, ’tis me. But I’ve shamed my clan.”
Ada gasped, apparently understanding exactly what would bring shame to her clan, but then she hugged Constance. “You’re a kind-hearted lass. You’ll find your way somehow. Now go. You need to get there before the sun comes up.”
Ada helped her over the fence, then waved goodbye.
Constance’s heart raced as she crept down the length of the hedges toward the front of the abbey. Following the curtain wall, she peeked around the corner, pleased to see the guard at the main entrance asleep with his back against the wall. Most of the time, very little happened at the front gate.
She soon found the main path they had followed to Muir Castle. It would probably take her several hours to walk there, mayhap the entire day if she had to keep hiding.
She set off at a brisk pace, keeping her ears alert to all sounds around her. Her first two hours were uneventful. She noticed familiar trees along the way, valleys and burns that told her she was traveling the same way she’d traveled with Daniel. Thank goodness it was a cloudless night so the moon could help her find her way. The journey would have been quite enjoyable if it hadn’t been for her belly churning over every little sound.
In fact, she could swear there was an owl that appeared to be following her, its soft hoot always a bit over her right shoulder.
Guessing she was halfway there, she gauged that if the journey continued to go well, she might arrive before dawn, which would please her immensely. She was just rounding a bend when she caught something out of the corner of her eye.
Unfortunately, that person caught sight of her, as well.
She had her hood up so there was no remark about her red hair, but she didn’t wish to be seen up close. Racing off in the opposite direction, she eventually found a path that a horse would never be able to pass through.
The voices behind her drew closer. “Leave him be,” one of them said. “’Twas just a monk.”
“Mayhap he’s got some coin to share with us, but you need not share if you’ve no interest. I’ll keep it to myself, arsehole.”
She continued on the narrow path, hoping she could slip into a copse of trees ahead where she could hide, but they caught up to her.
“He’s headed down a footpath. You cannot go that way. Leave him be. The Lord will make us pay if you hurt a monk.”
Then the worst thing imaginable happened. A branch caught her hood, tugging it down to her shoulders. She prayed they’d already turned around.
They had not.
“’Tis the red-haired lass in disguise!” one shouted.
“Get her!”
Constance screamed and ran as hard as she could.
Chapter Fifteen
Daniel approached the side entrance of The Hound and the Stag alone. His cousins planned on waiting in the tavern before following him. He moved down the stairs quickly, not speaking to anyone, and knocked on the door at the base of the stairs.
The scarred doorman, whom he’d taken to calling Scarface, though he was not foolish enough to do so to the fellow’s face, opened the door and said to him, “He got you good last night. ’Tis quite a black eye you’ve got, lad.” He chuckled but didn’t follow him.
When he reached the man who handled the wagers in the first chamber, he decided it was time to start asking questions.
The man greeted him with a smile. “Damien. Glad you’re back. You’ve made us some good coin over the last few days. Here’s your cut of that.”
Daniel pocketed it. “My thanks, but I need more. What else can I do to earn more coin?”
“Ah, an enterprising lad, are you? Perhaps we can be of service. Wait here.”
With that, he disappeared down the passageway. He returned a moment later with the judge who decided the fights. The judge beckoned wordlessly for him to follow, and the man with the coin winked at him before slipping back behind the bar.
Together, Daniel and the judge walked down the passageway to the fighting chamber. The space felt so large and hollow when it was empty.
“You want more coin?” the man finally asked. “I may have an opportunity for you, but you’d have to be willing to leave Edinburgh.”
“I can move around. I need not stay here.”
The judge gave him a long, appraising
look, then said, “There is a way, but you’ll have to win two more fights for us in the large chamber.”
Daniel had no idea what he was referring to. “The large chamber?”
He tipped his head toward the back of the room, where the passageway continued. “The back chamber is much larger. Anything is allowed. Only our best fighters are given the chance. Betting is wild because there tends to be more blood. In the front chamber, gentleman’s rules are used. No kicking in the bollocks. In the back chamber, you’ll get kicked every which way, but you’ll make good coin. If you survive those two fights, we’ll send you on another quest. One that could bring you more coin than you could ever imagine.”
“What quest?” Daniel couldn’t contain his excitement. He was finally getting closer to the Channel of Dubh. He was sure of it.
“You can join our men in the channel.”
“What is the channel?” he asked, somehow managing to sound casual.
“The men work about once a moon. They’re sent to pick up cargo, mostly in the north, but it needs to be taken east. Come this way. I’ll let you talk to the head of this venture.”
He led Daniel through the front fighting chamber, guiding him toward a much larger chamber nearly at the end of the passageway. “This is where you’ll fight. As you can see, we can hold many more spectators back here. The wagers are much higher.”
Daniel glanced around, noticing it was double the size of the front chamber. The floor had dark stains in spots. Blood.
The judge must have noticed his stares because he added, “Aye, men have died back here. Anything goes with the fists.”
Daniel said, “I can handle myself.” He lifted his chin in the hopes of giving the impression of confidence. Now all he had to do was convince himself. In the end, the danger didn’t matter—if this was the only way he’d get access to the channel, he had to do it. He had to survive.
The judge nodded and spun on his heel, leading him to a small door at the very end of the passageway. Someone inside grunted in response to his knock, and he opened the door and gestured for Daniel to follow him. The small chamber was full of tables stacked with coin. The space was empty but for one man surrounded by four guards. The man’s back was to them as they entered the chamber.
Highland Fortitude (The Band of Cousins Book 5) Page 10