The Scot's Spy (Highland Swords Book 2)

by Keira Montclair

  The ravine was deep, and a fall might badly injure or kill someone, so she was more than pleased when they made it through the most dangerous part of the pass. They’d nearly reached the safety of the other side when her horse stumbled and reared. She grabbed onto its mane, but it was so slippery with rain she couldn’t hang on.

  The next thing she knew she was flying through the air. Els’s voice carried across the wind and sleet. “Joya!”

  She catapulted across the ravine, landing hard, then rolled down the incline. No matter how she tried to slow her fall, she couldn’t grasp on to anything, the ground already coated with a layer of ice. When she finally managed to make it to the bottom, she slammed into a large rock, hitting her head hard enough that she saw strange lights in front of her eyes.

  Taking three deep breaths to calm herself, she waited until she could assess that she had no broken bones. She’d been through worse than this, and this time, she wasn’t alone. Her eyes open, she scanned the area in front of her, noticing Els sliding down the incline toward her.

  “Joya!”

  Both horses had stayed up on the edge of the pass, fortunately, or they might have fallen to their death.

  Magnus wasn’t far ahead of them. His voice carried from the end of the pass. “Get her out of there quickly, but don’t try to climb up. Carry her to the end of the ravine and I’ll meet you there.”

  Els yelled at the Grant guards still crossing above them, some of whom had stopped to help. “Go! Get across the pass and get our horses before they run. Then you can help us. The trip down is too treacherous.”

  He leaned over her and brushed the hair that had fallen into her face. “Joya. Please say something. Anything. I’m afraid to touch you.”

  She opened her eyes and stared up at him, but it was extremely painful. Her head hurt as if the horses had danced across her forehead.

  “Good, you’re alert. Tell me what hurts. Move everything a wee bit and see. May I pick you up?”

  “My head and my left ankle.” She didn’t know if either place was bleeding. There was so much freezing rain pouring out of the clouds that she couldn’t tell if it was blood or water. “Just get me out of here, Els. Please.”

  He bent down and scooped her up. She groaned when he lifted her because pain screamed through her body, but she didn’t want him to stop. “Keep going.”

  She gripped his arms, afraid to let go, but thankful that she was awake. A fall like that could have knocked her out for hours. The urge to sleep was compelling, but she concentrated on the pain to keep her awake. He trudged through the base of the ravine, a voice calling out for guidance like a beacon in dark water. She listened carefully, making sure the voice grew stronger, indicating they were headed in the right direction. The weather was they type that chilled anyone raw to the bone, beating down one’s hope.

  “Els, please don’t fall. Be careful.”

  He gave her a quick smile on his unsteady feet. “I’ll not drop you, lass.”

  “You cannot be hurt. I need you.”

  He whispered in her ear, “As I need you. We’ll make it through. I’m almost to the end. Can you not hear Magnus nearby?”

  Though she bounced a wee bit and Els cursed a few times, she trusted he would get her out safely. She heard Magnus yell at Els. “Give her to me and you mount. I’ll hand her to you and head straight for the cave ahead. ’Tis but five minutes away.”

  Grateful they’d made it to the end of the treacherous ravine, she gripped onto Els once Magnus lifted her, then closed her eyes, trusting him completely as the rain continued its furious onslaught. She did her best to hold her yelps of pain inside because she knew the men were doing the best they could.

  If she could make it to the cave, get out of her wet clothing, then she could sleep.

  Her eyes fluttered shut.

  ***

  Els had never felt so helpless in all his life. He’d watched her hurtle over the edge. She’d fallen before he could do anything, before he could even process what had happened. Two things had kept her alive: the thick wool of her hood had protected her head, and the ice had eased her slide across the rocks, leaving more skin on her than normally would have happened with such a fall. He yelled at Uncle Magnus. “We shouldn’t have come across.”

  “Aye,” Uncle Magnus bellowed back, “but if we hadn’t come across when we did, we wouldn’t be able to pass for two more days. That ice will make a mess of the path. At least she took a fall at the narrowest part of the ravine. She’ll live, though she’ll be sore. But we must get her out of her drenched garments.”

  Els couldn’t argue with his uncle. He was probably one of the most level-headed of Jamie’s men, the reason why he often acted as second to the lairds. “Lead on to the cave.”

  The freezing rain continued, pelting Els’s face until his eyelashes were frozen, but he kept Joya away from the worst of the elements. Her eyes stayed shut, and while he wished she would talk with him, if only to assure him she was okay, he thought it best for her to sleep through the difficult ride. The poor lass would be aching in many places by the morrow.

  When they reached the cave, Uncle Magnus dismounted and moved over to help him. The cave was indeed well-hidden, so the rain wasn’t pounding into it. Magnus left three horses by the opening to keep the weather out a bit, and it allowed the beasts a bit of respite from the ice on their faces.

  His uncle took her so Els could dismount, and he carried her inside the shelter of the cave. Els followed them, grabbing his saddlebag and the one from her horse, hoping something was dry enough for her to wear. The cave was deeper than he’d thought and would hold at least thirty men if he were to guess. His uncle had chosen wisely.

  “Do you wish to undress her or shall I?” Uncle Magnus asked.

  Els froze, not having considered the matter. “I suppose it should be you, since you’re older and not attached to her.”

  Uncle Magnus lifted an eyebrow at him, but then said, “Aye, I’ll do it.”

  Joya lifted her head, opening her eyes for the first time in several minutes, and said, “Nay, Els. You can help me.”

  “As you wish,” Uncle Magnus said, fighting a grin as he handed her to Els.

  “Keep the men at the front to give us some privacy for a few minutes.” Although the Grant guards were all taught to respect lasses, Joya was a beauty, and he didn’t want anyone gawking at her.

  “You’ll have plenty of time. We’ll need to build an overhang for the horses in the forest and see about feeding them. ’Twill be at least an hour. I’ll send out a group to search for some dry wood to start a fire at the mouth of the cave and anything else we may need. We know not what we’ll awaken to in the morning.”

  Ice storms were the worst, he knew it.

  He moved into the back of the cave and found a small ledge he could settle on. “Joya? Can you stay awake for me?”

  Her eyes fluttered open again, but they didn’t stay that way for more than a few seconds. “Joya, I’m going to change your clothes.”

  He grabbed his own saddlebag because he knew it kept his plaid dry, so he pulled that out and set it where he could reach it. He had no idea what he’d find in her bag, and it felt wrong to sort through her things without her permission. Removing her mantle first, he tossed it off to the side, noticing she was as wet underneath as she’d been on the outside. He untied the ribbon on her tunic and lifted it over her head, but that finally roused her.

  “Ow, och nay, please. My head hurts.”

  She fumbled with her hands and shoved at him, but he didn’t let up—he couldn’t. When he tugged the top over her head, she screamed, a small scream of intense pain that went straight to his heart. The shock on her face surprised him, but then she glanced down, noticing that she was in only her chemise and her breeches. Her hands covered her breasts and she leaned forward, tears in her eyes. “It hurts, Els. Please don’t let them all see me. I’m sick of men staring at me.”

  “No one else is here, so they’re not
watching you. We need to get you out of the rest of your wet clothes. If you can stand, I’ll wrap my plaid around you and you can get out of your chemise and those wet breeches. Do you have extra clothing?”

  “Aye, your mother gave me a gown and Dyna gave me leggings and a tunic.”

  “Good. Once you’re dry, I’ll search your bag for the leggings. Can you stand?”

  She nodded and he helped her to her feet, though her one foot buckled. “My ankle is sprained. It twisted, but I can balance on the other.”

  “You better turn your back to the opening. My horse is staring at you.” He winked, hoping the jest would comfort her.

  “You think I won’t hit you because I’m hurting, and you’re right, but I’ll remember this. In fact, I might give you my back and flash the horses. See how you like that.”

  He guffawed and said, “The horses will be most happy.”

  She was talking like herself again, so surely she’d be okay.

  He lifted her under her arms and set her down next to the wall so she could lean if necessary, standing in front of her to block the view in case any of the men came inside. “I’ll keep watch and protect you. I was just jesting.”

  He held the plaid up while she stripped out of her clothing. He made himself stare at the ceiling of the cave, because if he stopped to look at the beauty in front of him, he’d be hard as a rock, not something he wished for given she was so vulnerable at the moment.

  She signaled she was done, and he wrapped the plaid around her. Finding her bag, he pulled out the tunic and leggings. “Here, lass. Don these and you’ll feel better. Then I’ll take off my own wet things and wear the plaid. Once we’re both dry, you might be able to get some sleep.” He donned an extra tunic he’d been glad to find inside his bag. His mother must have stuck it inside after he’d told her to stop fussing over him.

  He’d have to remember to thank her when he returned.

  “Where did the horses go?” Joya asked in bafflement. “They were here before I changed, but now they’re gone.”

  “Uncle Magnus took a group of men to build some protection for them in the pines. There was a thick forest of evergreens just beyond the cave so they must have moved them over there. The others are looking for dry wood.”

  Once they finished, he carried her to the opening so they could see outside. The weather had not improved. The guards had moved the horses into the grove of thick pines and fashioned a type of covering out of fallen boughs. It would be nearly as dry as the cave.

  Now they’d just have to wait out the storm.

  He sat back on the ledge and settled her on his lap. “Is this better?”

  “Aye, I just wish to rest my head. It hurts.”

  He felt the back of her head as gingerly as he could, cringing when he located the big bump that made her wince when he touched it. “You won’t want to lay on that side or it will hurt worse.”

  “My thanks for taking such good care of me, Els. Do you think we ever might have some time together, just the two of us, without any danger or battles around us?” she whispered, running her fingers through the stubble of his beard. “It feels like I’ve run from one danger to the next for as long as I can recall.”

  “I would like that, my sweet. We’ve been sorely tested, both of us, but we’re strong. I’ll help you when I can, and someday, I know you’ll do the same for me.”

  She leaned her head back and kissed his cheek. “I like you, Els.”

  “I think you like everyone, Joya, and everyone likes you.” Though he hoped she truly meant it. Her grip on him had only tightened, and whenever he held her in his arms, he found himself thinking surprising thoughts. Thoughts about living a life together like Alasdair and Emmalin. About having another focus besides the war that wouldn’t end, and his growing inability to fight in it.

  “Nay,” she said. “You’re different.” She touched a spot on her chest and then on his. “I can feel it, in my heart.” She rubbed his chest a little harder. “And in yours. You are a different man, Elshander Grant, and I like you enough to scare me.”

  She closed her eyes and fell asleep. He liked that thought very much, so he kissed her forehead as gently as he could. They were good together—of that, he was certain. He hoped they’d get the opportunity to explore this growing thing between them.

  He knew her brother had pushed her away because he thought she’d sacrificed her innocence for her work. Mayhap she had. Els did not care if she was no longer a maiden.

  After Uncle Magnus returned, they spoke a bit about the men and the camp they’d made, then Els’s uncle helped him get settled on the cold stone with Joya lying in his arms. He finally closed his eyes and was asleep in seconds.

  Chapter Six

  They arrived at MacLintock Castle by the end of the following day. Els hadn’t seen his cousin for a while, and he was eager to be reunited with him, for all of them to be together again. Alasdair and Emmalin had two bairns, a son called John, named after Uncle Jake, Alasdair’s sire, and a daughter, Ailith, around eight moons old.

  Joya seemed to feel better, but she still was basically immobile due to her sprained ankle.

  They were entertained immediately by John, born almost two summers ago. While they removed their outerwear, the lad made it his priority to check all of the strangers coming inside.

  “You Engwish?” he asked. As if the word had put a bitter taste in his mouth, he promptly spat in a bowl set near the door.

  Els and Joya chuckled over this. “Nay, I’m not English,” she said, a big smile on her face. Els helped her settle in a chair in front of the hearth, wrapping her in a warm fur while she removed her boots. One of the maids hurried to take them over by the door.

  “Nae Engwish,” John said, his face quite serious as he ran over to spit in the bowl again.

  Els searched out his cousin, who was bringing in drinks for all. “Truly, Alasdair? You’ve trained him to spit over the English? And he does it?”

  Alasdair laughed. “He mimics everything I do and say.”

  Emmalin added, “Everything any man does. He got the spitting from the stable master, if you want the truth of it. I finally gave up and put the bowl by the door, though he hardly musters up enough spit to matter.”

  Els removed his mantle and said to the lad, “What’s that you’re carrying, laddie?”

  “I no’ laddie. I Aleshander Grant. My sword.” Then he swung his sword this way and that, though he didn’t attempt to hit anyone yet.

  Els gave a puzzled look to Alasdair, who explained. “Everyone tells him stories about grandsire. About how he’s the best swordsman in all the land. Now John has to be Alex Grant. We let him go with it. We did take him to visit Grandsire when he was around a year, but that’s the only part he remembers. He wants to be just like our grandfather.”

  Emmalin leaned against her husband, who wrapped his arms around her. “We think ’tis endearing. Do you not agree?”

  Els moved over to check on Joya, who reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Aye, Emmalin, you’ve done well. I can’t take my eyes from him, the way he acts just like a warrior. He must watch his father all the time.”

  Alasdair said, “Come, have a seat and eat, Els. Welcome, Joya. When Dyna and Alick told us you’d be coming, we could scarcely believe it. How did you come to be at Grant Castle?”

  “Aye,” Emmalin said eagerly. “I couldn’t be more pleased to see you. I didn’t get a chance to properly thank you for all you did for us in Berwick.”

  “’Tis a long story, but I ended up traveling alone and got lost, so I headed north. ’Twas the only thing I remembered. Head north to Grant land.” She cast Elshander a sheepish glance.

  Emmalin stared at her wide-eyed. “By yourself? Truly?”

  Els said, “By the time I found her, she was nearly falling off her horse from exhaustion. ’Twas just a few days ago.”

  Alasdair clucked his tongue. “And you must have had a rough journey to our keep. The first group got here hours ago.
Sit and enjoy an ale and some food. We’ve plenty of both. Alick and Dyna are on their way down.”

  Els glanced at Joya. “You wish to stay near the fire or join us at the table?”

  “I’ll stay here for a wee bit. The heat feels wonderful after that cave and the ice. Besides, I’m enjoying John and the keep is lovely.” Emmalin obviously overheard her and gave her a quick nod of thanks.

  Alick and Dyna came down the stairs, greeting them exuberantly, and the four cousins sat at a trestle table surrounded by the guards, Uncle Magnus joining them. Emmalin joined Joya at the hearth after checking on her daughter, Ailith, in her cradle. The babe appeared to be sleeping soundly, even through the din of new guests arriving. Content that Joya would have company, Els allowed himself to enjoy being with his cousins.

  “I’m glad to be here, Alasdair,” Els said after downing two long swigs of ale, “but I wish to hear about the threats you’ve received. When did you hear of the possible attack?”

  “Five days ago we were warned, but we’ve seen nothing yet,” he said, chewing on a hunk of bread and cheese.

  “Do you have patrols looking for them?” Alick asked.

  “Of course, but they’ve seen nothing.”

  “They’re slowed by the storm,” Dyna said with confidence. “That pelting sleet will slow anyone. They’ll be moving again soon.”

  “Did you lose any horses coming through the ravine?” Alasdair asked.

  “Nay,” Uncle Magnus said. “I feared we would, but we got through the pass just in time.” He cast a sheepish look at Joya. “Except for the lass’s fall, of course. Her horse threw her and she fell down the far edge of the ravine.”

  “You made the right choice, Magnus,” Dyna said, casting Joya a sympathetic look. “You got through and we feared you’d be forced back. Although Joya must be in terrible pain.”