My Highland Warrior (Warriors of the Highlands Book 1)

by Miriam Minger

  That despicable excuse for a man hoping to become King of Scots even as a bishop-crowned king, Robert the Bruce, had left Ayrshire to stake his claim in Argyll and beyond—aye, so it had finally begun.

  “Do we gather more men and ride after them?” Cameron queried, Gabriel meeting his captain’s somber gaze.

  Secretly he wondered what his longtime friend—Conall, too—truly thought of Seoras as their overlord. At best an uneasy alliance existed between the MacDougalls and the Campbells, which, to all appearances, had been reinforced by Seoras’s marriage to Cora, the brothers’ first cousin.

  Yet who could say? Gabriel had never asked them and his two midnight-haired captains had never broached the matter, as if to do so might pit them against each other. Gabriel shook his head at Cameron, wondering if his most trusted companions, Alun and Finlay included, sensed at all that his feelings were shifting about his own alliance with Seoras.

  “We’ll not catch them now. They’re already through the pass and mayhap hiding until dusk, when they’ll set out again. There’s plenty of caves tae shelter hundreds of men while they gather for an attack, but I’m certain Seoras knows of their movement. He’s enough scouts scattered throughout Argyll—”

  “Aye, which means we’ll be hearing from him no doubt this very day,” Finlay said dryly, Gabriel aware that his cousin knew his heart more than any other man.

  Finlay had taken one look at his face this morning in the bailey, and had known without a word from Gabriel that Magdalene had survived the night.

  A cuff on the shoulder had been the only acknowledgement, that, and Finlay following his gaze to a tower window where Magdalene stood, watching them.

  Her hand pressed to the glass as if she’d been reaching out to Gabriel somehow—the mere thought of what that might portend making his heartbeat quicken.

  “Let’s head back tae the castle.”

  “Aye,” came Finlay’s quick assent, echoed by Cameron, Conall, and Alun who left Gabriel to return to their horses. Meanwhile, he reached out to lock arms with the youth at his side, no more than fifteen years, who stared at Gabriel as if in awe.

  “If you see aught else, lad…Iain, is it?”

  “Aye, Iain, Laird, I’ll come straightaway tae tell you!”

  “Only if it willna put you in danger. I’d rather you safely tending MacLachlan sheep on the mountainside than with a sword in your gullet or a broken neck from riding in the dark. Will you promise me?”

  A quick nod was his answer, but already Gabriel had left him, too, and strode to his stallion nibbling blades of grass sprouted between the rocks.

  In his mind’s eye, he could see Robert the Bruce and his loyal followers forging up the path, their legs pumping and their swords at the ready in case anyone challenged them.

  That the man had shown mercy to young Iain only made him grow larger in Gabriel’s esteem, which, ever voiced, would mark him as a traitor.

  Sighing heavily, he hoisted himself into the saddle, grateful at least that his shoulder no longer seemed to be plaguing him.

  He would need a strong fighting arm, for indeed, with King Robert and his forces on the move, war was coming.

  “Look, Rhona, she’s about tae take a drink!”

  Magdalene was hard-pressed not to smile at Keira’s breathless aside to her younger sister, both girls watching her intently as she raised the cup to her lips.

  Their nurse, Grania, watched, too, and seemed to be perched upon the edge of the bench as if ready to hustle her young charges away at the first sign of any outrageous act by Magdalene.

  She had entered the great hall alone—though she knew Euna and Donella were trailing not far behind her—just as luncheon was served, and had made her way immediately to Keira and Rhona’s table.

  Magdalene could have heard the faintest whisper for the silence that had fallen over all those assembled, soup spoons stopped halfway to mouths and eyes widening. She had ignored them all, men, women and children, her rose-colored gown fluttering behind her and her chin held high.

  Rhona’s reaction, however, had been anything but startled, the little girl jumping up from the table and running toward Magdalene with outstretched arms, her sweet face alight.

  What else could she have done but pick up the little girl and hug her tightly? Everyone around them had gasped as if afraid of what she might do, and her ever-present caretakers had drawn closer, though Euna had grabbed Donella’s arm.

  “Laird MacLachlan said free run, sister! If need be, we’ll step in, but he was quite firm about it. Canna you see that there’s something different about her? I’m certain we’ve nothing tae fear—och, there she goes!”

  Indeed, Magdalene had set off with a laughing Rhona back to the table, where she’d settled the child on the bench and then sat down across from her and her sister. She tilted the cup now, with one eye upon them, and drank deeply, the cider sweet and cooling.

  If the girls had thought she might spill the liquid down the front of her gown like the last time she’d seen them, they both appeared almost crestfallen when she set down the cup without even a splatter.

  “Eat your lunch, children!” chastened Grania, who still eyed Magdalene warily.

  She dipped her spoon into her bowl, too, more of Cook’s delicious chicken soup, though she had yet to meet the man to compliment him. She would visit the kitchen next and do just that.

  She planned to keep as busy as possible until Gabriel returned to the castle, if anything to try and calm herself. She couldn’t deny that an air of agitation hovered over the great hall as most everyone resumed their meal, and she could only surmise that it had to do with wherever he and his men had gone.

  Donella had offered no clues when she had appeared not long after Euna’s arrival, to assist Magdalene with a bath, though she had wanted only to dress and then rush downstairs. Yet the steamy buckets of water brought in by a host of servants had looked so inviting, especially after her unexpected dip in the lough, that she had changed her mind.

  For the first time, Magdalene hadn’t resisted the two sisters, but instead surrendered to their ministrations as they tended to her bath. Instead of an unpleasant struggle, it had become a more pleasurable experience, and she had savored the soothing warmth of the water instead of splashing it upon them and the floor.

  She had held her tongue, too. Euna’s shocked reaction to her speaking so normally was a clear sign for her not to take things too fast, too soon.

  Everyone thought her mad as a loon, aye, mayhap with episodes of more docile behavior, but still unpredictable. Even now, the folk gathered in the great hall watched her as warily as Grania, though Magdalene hadn’t done anything to alarm them other than to interrupt their meal with her presence.

  They knew nothing of her change of heart about Gabriel, her pulse racing anew as she wondered where he had ridden off to in such a furor.

  Something worrying was afoot, she could feel it as the soup suddenly seemed tasteless to her just in thinking that he might be in danger. One by one, and then in somber groups, the great hall began to empty as if no one wished to linger over their meal, all hearts and minds focused upon what might be happening somewhere outside the castle walls.

  Grania, too, pushed away her bowl and stood up while Rhona seemed purposely to be eating her soup at a snail’s pace, the bowl still almost full.

  “Go on, child, finish up and we’ll go outside for a walk—”

  “Oh, aye, a walk!” Rhona blurted, glancing from her nurse to Magdalene. “Will you come with us, Maggie?”

  Feeling a strange pang not to be called Mama any longer, Magdalene met Grania’s gaze that seemed to have narrowed, appraising her.

  There was something unsettling about the older woman, though Magdalene couldn’t put her finger upon it—och, she knew nothing about the nurse other than Grania had been with the MacLachlans for years. Mayhap it was her faded beauty or how she carried herself, as if she wasn’t a servant at all but a member of Gabriel’s family like a co
usin or an aunt, but there again Magdalene imagined the nurse had always been treated as such.

  “Aye, Maggie, do come with us,” Keira urged softly, a hint of wariness still clinging to the girl—and Magdalene couldn’t blame her.

  After all, the last time Keira had seen her, she was howling and dumping stew all over herself!

  Yet why not go for a walk with them? It might ease Keira’s lingering guardedness and take her own mind off what might be happening with Gabriel, if only a little. Magdalene smiled and nodded, which made Rhona clap her hands with delight while a smile burst across Keira’s face, too.

  Only to fade an instant later when Grania rapped her knuckles sharply upon the table and gestured to Euna and Donella close by.

  “Will you not take this madwoman in hand? Walk with the laird’s own nieces? Indeed not! She canna be trusted any more than a fox among chickens—Rhona!”

  The child had sprung up so suddenly and rushed around the table to grab Magdalene’s hand that she couldn’t help but jump up, too, Keira quickly following her sister’s example. It seemed within a blink, the three of them were running through the great hall, laughing, while Grania’s raised voice echoed behind them.

  “Stop them! Euna, Donella, do something!”

  “Do what?” came Euna’s shrill response. “Laird MacLachlan said she’s tae have free run of the castle—aye, and there she goes!”

  Indeed, Magdalene felt such a sense of exhilaration not to have the maidservants attempting to stop her, and Keira and Rhona skipped gleefully beside her. It seemed the bairns needed some freedom, too.

  Giggling, breathless, they burst outside into the sunshine only to stop short, people running toward a finely clothed young man who reined in his lathered horse just inside the bailey.

  “Where is your laird?” he demanded, waving a rolling parchment high in the air. “I’ve an urgent summons from Earl Seoras—enough! Will you all stand and gape at me? Where the devil is Laird MacLachlan?”

  Chapter 17

  “Calm yourself, man!” Gabriel bellowed, riding in on the heels of what he had judged to be a messenger from Seoras, just as Finlay had predicted. “I’m Laird MacLachlan and you’re disrupting the peace of my home!”

  The rider wheeled his mount around to face him while those gathered in the bailey scattered to make way for men and lathered horses. Yet Gabriel’s gaze wasn’t on the messenger dressed in finery that identified him as a courtier, but on Magdalene standing off to one side with her arms around the shoulders of his young nieces.

  Her beautiful face flushed, her eyes as wide as Keira’s and Rhona’s, the girls clinging to her like ducklings to their mother. No doubt they had been startled by the commotion, which made Gabriel swear under his breath and focus again on his unexpected guest.

  “The summons, if you please,” he grated, wondering if this pompous-looking fellow had been one of those laughing at him on the night Seoras had offered him Magdalene.

  At once the messenger stiffened and thrust out the rolled parchment, which Gabriel took with a brusque nod. He didn’t read it, though, but dismounted along with his captains and the dozen other men who’d rode out with him earlier, as stable boys rushed forward to lead away the horses.

  The messenger, meanwhile, remained in the saddle and glanced around the bailey, his gaze alighting upon Magdalene.

  His slow smirk made Gabriel’s irritation flare into fury, and it was all he could do not to grab the man and throw him in the dirt.

  “Your name?”

  “Allan MacDougall, Laird, an aide and second cousin tae Earl Seoras. Will you not read the summons he entrusted me tae deliver to you?”

  “Aye, when you get down off your horse.”

  As if realizing from Gabriel’s tone that he had no choice in the matter, Allan dismounted, looking quite nervous now as he held tightly to the reins.

  “I was only tae give you the summons and then leave at once. He expects you and your men at the fortress by midday tomorrow. Robert the Bruce is—”

  “Amassing his forces in Argyll, aye, for a potential attack. We saw proof of it this morning.”

  “Not potential, Laird! His men conducted a night raid three days past on forces garrisoned in a village not far from the fortress, slaughtering many, but a half dozen of the bastards were captured. Earl Seoras wants you tae attend their execution, which he believes will deter any further attack. That, and calling forth every baron under his command tae rally around him—”

  “So it has begun.”

  “Laird?”

  Gabriel had spoken under his breath, and it wasn’t eminent warfare he had meant—but Seoras asserting at last his intent to claim the throne of Scotland.

  With the help of Gabriel and his clansmen, of course, and other barons like him, all of them sworn to protect Seoras from Robert the Bruce. His expression grim, he held out the parchment to Allan.

  “Take it. You’ve told me what I need tae know.”

  “No, Laird, there’s more. Earl Seoras has commanded that your family attend—your brother’s children and your wife, Lady MacLachlan. Along with the execution, he plans a feast tae celebrate your marriage—”

  “By God, what madness is this?”

  His roar echoing around the bailey, Gabriel felt a steely hand staying his arm as he took a step to grab Allan by the throat.

  “Gabriel, have a care.”

  Finlay’s whispered warning near his ear, Gabriel glanced in fury at his cousin, who stared grimly back at him.

  “He rides back this day tae report your every word…every action.”

  With that, Finlay released him and stepped back, but not so far that he couldn’t again grab Gabriel, who felt as if he’d been doused with icy water.

  A stark realization settling over him that Seoras would do anything to ensure that he supported his ruthless ambition…even if it meant holding his nieces and Magdalene as hostage under the guise of being guests.

  No, he wouldn’t stand for it! Not the bairns at least. If it was just Magdalene, he would have a much greater chance of protecting her if the need arose…

  “My nieces willna attend—and you can tell Earl Seoras as much. One has recently been ill and I fear the other may have caught the pestilence. I doubt your lord would want sickness at the fortress.”

  “Is that the children there?” Allan nodded toward Keira and Rhona, who still huddled close to Magdalene. “They look well enough tae me—”

  “Do you begrudge them a few moments in the warming sunlight? Maggie, take the girls into the garden!”

  Gabriel held his breath at Magdalene’s look of confusion, but thankfully Keira took her hand to lead her toward a corner of the bailey where Malcolm had created a private garden for his wife. More precious coin spent when all else had deteriorated around him—but at that moment, Gabriel didn’t fault his brother.

  “You see? One bairn only four and the other just turned six—far too young even without the recent illness for such a perilous journey with enemies all around. If they were yours, would you subject them tae such a risk?”

  “Well, I…” Allan faltered, though in the next moment he straightened his shoulders. “It’s Earl Seoras’s decree, I only conveyed it tae you. Do what you will, Laird. Now I’ll be off—”

  “Aye, and take care, Allan MacDougall, that you dinna find yourself struck by sneezing and coughing along the way.”

  Now the young man blanched as he looked around everyone assembled as if they might carry the same pestilence. He couldn’t climb into the saddle fast enough.

  With a terse nod at Gabriel, he veered his horse around and headed for the castle gates, not sparing a single glance behind him.

  “Arrogant whelp.”

  “Yet the earl’s own messenger,” Finlay said gruffly, shaking his head. “If you defy his command, Gabriel, he’ll judge that your loyalty is suspect—”

  “Mayhap it is,” Gabriel cut him off, voicing for the first time what he had kept hidden in his heart. He wa
sn’t surprised that his captains and the other men around him didn’t appear taken aback, yet he’d taken a treasonous step forward that might affect them all. “I canna say what this journey may bring—”

  “I follow where you lead, Laird MacLachlan.”

  Gabriel met Cameron’s unwavering gaze, his lifelong friend addressing him so formally a proof of his allegiance.

  “Aye, Laird, I follow where you lead,” echoed Conall, followed by Alun and Finlay and the rest of the men surrounding Gabriel.

  Deeply moved, he felt his throat tighten even as he uttered the next words.

  “Aye, then, there is much to do before we leave at dawn. Finlay, Alun, see that all those who stay behind are prepared tae defend the castle—and Finlay, you will remain tae command them.”

  A flicker of disappointment lit his kinsmen’s eyes, but he nodded solemnly. “As you wish, Gabriel.”

  “Good. I entrust you with my nieces’ welfare and that of every soul within these walls as well as the villagers, who will look tae you for protection. If there’s a siege, we’ve provisions enough tae last until help arrives. Take in as much livestock and as many of our kin as you can before you must draw the bridge and close the gates.”

  “Aye.”

  “Cameron, Conall, ready the rest of the men. I’ll rejoin you shortly.”

  More solemn nods came as Gabriel left them to stride across the bailey in the direction of the walled garden, the oaken door left ajar.

  His heart pounded harder with each step, that Magdalene hadn’t resisted his command, telling him much.

  She could have laughed crazily and whirled in place and then run off in the opposite direction, leaving the girls gaping after her—but there had been no effort on her part to play the lunatic.

  She had stood there during his entire discourse with her brother’s messenger, listening, watching, her eyes widening in dismay when Gabriel had said—untruthfully—that one of his nieces had been ill.