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The Scot's Pursuit (Highland Swords Book 3)

Page 9

by Keira Montclair


  “Let’s make a big meal, and then you could ask for a tub bath. You could take it while the others are busy eating since they’ll be less likely to notice. We’ll slip out the back window.”

  Branwen nodded, a small smile creeping across her face. “Sounds like a wonderful plan. Tell no one.”

  She could tell Lora wished to jump up and down, but they had to keep their plan secret.

  Branwen winked at Lora and said, “Time for us to make dinner for this eve. Help me find everything?”

  Branwen had prepared a meal to the best of her ability, relying on Lora for help. Even though she was far younger, she was quite skilled in the kitchen, showing her how to cut the vegetables and what proportion to use in order to make a stew rich with brown gravy and vegetables. She’d already had several loaves of bread at the ready, which was quite fortunate because Branwen had never mixed or kneaded a loaf of bread in her life.

  They all came into the front room, awaiting their father from outside. When Osbert came in, he strode directly to her side, kissed her cheek, then ran his finger down her jawline, something she didn’t like at all.

  But she allowed it this night. She said, “My lord, if you have no objections, I’d like a tub bath alone while you eat. Lora can assist me with the water.”

  Osbert’s eyes lit up, and he nodded as if there were some secret between them. “Understood. Please go ahead. We’ll not need your help until we’re finished. Then you can clean up while the wee ones wash in your tub water. We’ll not waste it on just one person.” He leaned in closer and said, “Mayhap I’d like one, too. You can assist me.”

  While his comment made her skin crawl, she didn’t say a word, instead following Lora outside to locate the tub and bring it into the back chamber where she could bathe in private.

  Of course, she had no intention of climbing inside that bathtub. Once they brought the water in, she closed the door behind Lora, checked to make sure her saddlebag held everything she needed, and tossed it over her back. Fia had packed well for her, she’d noticed. Not only was her dagger inside, hidden beneath her clothes, but also a small sack containing some dried meat and chunks of cheese. Her friend had known she’d be running away. Of course, she hadn’t been able to hide Branwen’s bow and arrow in the bag. She’d need to find a replacement.

  Nay, she needed that bow, the one Dyna had given her. She’d sneak back in the middle of the night to retrieve it.

  When Lora had her own sack packed, she nodded to Branwen and they crept out of the back entrance as quietly as possible. Once they were behind the hut, Lora held her finger to her lips, then beckoned for Branwen to follow her.

  Lora led her to a path behind the huts, staying close to her since it was dark. Once they were far enough away, they began to run. They ran and ran until they were so far away that Branwen feared they were lost. She grabbed Lora’s mantle from behind, stopping her.

  “Wait, please. We must decide where we’re going.”

  Lora stopped and gave her a puzzled look. “I thought you would lead us from here. Are we returning to your land?”

  “Nay,” she said, her eyes wide. “We must keep far away from my sire. There’s a cave not far from Thane land. I think we can stay there for now. I hate to travel at night because it’s dangerous, but we don’t have much choice. ’Tis nearly dark now. We must hurry.”

  “Are you sure we won’t be caught?”

  “I doubt my sire even knows about it. I found it long ago on a walk with my mother. ’Tis probably an hour and a half from here.”

  “Lead on. I’ll follow.”

  They eventually arrived in the right area, or so she thought, but night had fallen and she couldn’t find the cave. Branwen said, “’Tis here somewhere. I know it. ’Tis well hidden.”

  They searched for about fifteen minutes before Lora called to her. “Here. I think ’tis behind these bushes, not far from the burn.”

  There was quite a bit of scrub hiding the entrance, so Branwen pulled out her dagger and cut through the thickest, leaving enough to keep the entrance hidden. She crept inside slowly, pleased to find it empty. “Here. We can sleep here.”

  They returned to the burn and filled a skin with water before venturing back into the cave and choosing a spot for their plaid—out of sight of the entrance, though still close enough to take advantage of the moonlight. Exhausted, they both settled on top of a plaid, not far from each other. Branwen lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. “Mayhap I shouldn’t have brought you along with me.”

  “I am pleased you did. I hate my father. Ever since my mother died, my father has acted differently. He used to be happy when Mama was alive, but now he’s miserable all the time. And lazy.”

  Branwen shifted to look at her. “My father has been the same way. My mama died two years ago, and nothing’s been the same since.”

  The younger lass nodded with a wisdom that went beyond her years. “He misses Mama, and I understand. She was always happy and smiling, kept the house just so. I’m not as good at it, and I just don’t want to do it anymore. Was it the same for you?”

  “Nay. Papa is still nice to the lads. I have two brothers. We live in my uncle’s castle, so I don’t have to cook, but I have to watch the two lads. Papa lets them do whatever they wish and never gets upset. He’s always angry with me about something or another. I’m tired of it. ’Tis a most hateful way to live. Alick made me realize there is more to life than taking care of my brothers and wondering when I would be hit next.”

  “How awful! My sire never beat us. I’m glad you ran away. But where do we go from here? I grabbed a loaf of bread, but I have little else for us to live on.”

  “We are not far from Thane land. One of my favorite people there is the stablemaster, Jep. I’ll sneak in to see him, see if he’ll find my bow and arrow and give me a horse. My uncle’s castle is large, and they have over a hundred horses. I cannot see them missing one. Then we can search out my true husband.”

  Lora’s eyes flew open wide. “Tell me more about him.”

  “I fell for him at the Grant festival. He came to court me, but my father refused and promised me to your father instead. So Alick and I ran away to get married. It had naught to do with you or your siblings.”

  “But where is he now? Why didn’t he take you away? You should be together.” Lora’s words preyed on her own dark feelings, making her wonder why Alick hadn’t found a way to do just that.

  But then she thought about their situation. “His cousin’s land was about to be attacked by an English garrison. He left after it was dark and had no guards with him. He worried about not being able to protect me from the English. If I were to guess, he probably also wanted to reveal the news to his family after they were attacked rather than before.”

  “Your husband sounds like a fine man. He’s a warrior?”

  “Aye, he always has his sword with him, and his cousin is the lass I mentioned, the one who found a bow for me and taught me how to use it.”

  “I would love to meet both of them. Do you think your stablemaster could get you another bow and arrow so you can teach me?”

  “Aye, I’ll ask. I’ll also try to get some food. Then we just have to wait for Alick to return for me. We can go to Grant land once he comes along. I’ll tell Jep to send me a message when he arrives.”

  “You’re sure we can trust Jep?”

  “I am.”

  “And you believe Alick was being truthful when he said he would return?” Lora stared at the ceiling as they spoke, the stone as smooth as the water in a loch on a calm day.

  “Aye, I do. I trust him with my life.” How she hoped she was right.

  ***

  Branwen stood far enough away from Thane Castle to assess the situation. It was just before dawn, and she knew there was usually little movement until the men broke their fast, something they did after starting their morning in the lists. Her sire wouldn’t be up yet. Nab usually woke up first and ran down for his porridge just after dawn
, their father would follow, and then Roy would stroll into the hall just before high sun. Her father insisted on keeping his bairns away from the others, although she’d never understood why.

  This was the safest time to see Jep in the stables. Once she was confident no one was about, she made her way to the stables outside the gate, pleased to see her friend already awake and moving about. She startled him, but she quickly gave him the sign to keep quiet. He followed her outside, where they stepped into a copse of trees for privacy.

  “Lass, what are you doing? I heard your sire forced you to marry that old man. ’Tis true?”

  “Aye, and nay. He forced me to wed Osbert Ware, but I refuse to spend one night in his bed. Do you remember when you saw me with Alick MacNicol near the chapel?”

  “Aye.”

  “We married. My uncle had promised to speak to my sire, but both of us feared he wouldn’t see reason…and we were so close to the chapel. We said our vows then and there. After Alick left, my sire dragged me to Osbert Ware and made me marry him, but I ran away last eve after dark.”

  “I’d wondered,” Jep said, tapping his lip, “but how could someone wed you to Ware if you were already married to Alick?”

  “My sire paid the priest. It cannot be valid. He twisted my arm until I accepted. I’m hiding in a cave, but I need my bow and quiver. I’d take an extra, too, if you can find one that won’t be missed.”

  “Ah, lass. I’ll get you whatever you need, including a horse. We found a couple of new ones so I’ll gift you one of those with a bag of oats. I can give you some dried meat and some oatcakes, but ’tis all I have out here.”

  Relief rolled over her. “My thanks to you. You are a dear friend, Jep.”

  “Your sire is a fool for treating you the way he does.” He left with a promise to return quickly. She paced in the small area until he returned. He had another sack, two bows, two quivers full of arrows, and two more plaids thrown over the horse. “I put as much food as I could inside the sack. I’ll save what I can for you if you return another day.”

  “My thanks. If you see Alick MacNicol, tell him what I’ve told you.”

  “I will. He’ll be back someday, and I’ll send him after you.”

  She gave him a swift hug and left, walking her horse out past the line of trees so she wouldn’t be seen when she mounted. Finding a log to assist her, she climbed onto her horse and set him to a nice canter until she felt comfortable allowing him the gallop he wanted so much. Jep had given her a fine horse. Now she just had to wait.

  Patience. She needed patience until Alick came back.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex Grant watched from the parapets, still upset that Emmalin didn’t trust him to keep John safe. He reminded himself of what his dear wife, Maddie, had said to him about rescuing Claray, Sela’s first-born daughter. At the time, the lassie was being held captive by some cruel men. The smartest move, strategically speaking, would have been to wait to rescue her, but Maddie had insisted on acting at once.

  I must protect the bairns of our country. You consider everyone else, but I have purpose, too, and ’tis no less important.

  How his love for her had grown in that moment. She’d stood up for what she believed in and refused to relent. He’d given in to her request and they’d saved wee Claray, something for which Sela had thanked them many times.

  Emmalin was no different than Maddie, only her protectiveness was for her own son. A small smile crept across his face. His sons had asked him at one time what they should look for in a wife. He hadn’t thought to mention one particular feature that made a woman invaluable in his eyes.

  Find a woman who will fight for your bairns.

  Emmalin was doing exactly that, and he admired that she’d stood strong against him, something many women wouldn’t have done.

  “You raised your daughter well, Finnean.”

  He didn’t know if his old friend, her father, could hear him from the heavens above, but he thought it possible. If so, the old laird was smiling down on his daughter, watching her fight for her land and her bairns.

  The battle had begun. He kept his eye on the number outside the curtain wall, trying to guess how many the English had in the fight. He thought there were more than ten score, a bit less than the number Alick had told him he’d overheard last eve.

  That thought made him pace. True, they had more than enough guards to defeat such a number, between Grant warriors and the well-trained MacLintock warriors his grandson worked with every day, but he still didn’t like being surprised. He paced down the parapets, keeping watch over his grandchildren especially. Dyna was rapidly firing from atop the curtain wall, taking out many, judging by the screams he heard, and the men were fighting well.

  After nearly an hour of hard battle, most of the English had been taken out, but then a surprise group of two score came over both of the side curtain walls, finding their way inside the gates, where there were less than a dozen MacLintock warriors left to fight. It had been their intent to keep all the fighting outside the gates, but this group had waited until nearly the end of the skirmish to make a last attempt to overtake the castle from the inside. Alasdair was the first to notice and the first to engage them, but Alick and Els were right behind him. They fought off the intruders in a ferocious response that did him proud.

  But they struggled. It was three against twenty, though a few others had arrived to help the cousins out. Not insurmountable, but a challenge nonetheless.

  Alex moved back to the door and tugged it open, yelling down the staircase. “Joya! Emmalin! You’re needed on the parapets.” The power harnessed by the Highland Swords was stronger with the two women present. The door flew open and the two lasses came out, wide-eyed and staring over the crenellations.

  “Where’s John?” Alex asked.

  “Inside with Besseta. She’s watching all the bairns.” She leaned over the parapets and looked at the melee beneath them. Her head jerked around to look at Alex. “What happened? How did they get inside the gates?” The panic in her eyes went straight to his gut.

  Alex said, “How they got in doesn’t matter right now. You two need to focus your energy on your husbands. And Emmalin, I’ll beg you again to get John.”

  “Nay! I’ll not subject him…”

  “Emmalin.” He stopped her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “No one will get to him up here. But they’re battling his father as we speak. I understand your wish to protect your son, but if you know of a way you could assist his father, should you not use it? Bring him out here with his sword. He might not need to be close to them for it to work. He may not even see them from up here.”

  Emmalin glanced at him, then spun around to hurry the stairs. She wasn’t gone long before she returned with John and his wooden sword. “Seanair, I fightin’ like Papa.”

  He was so pleased to see the lad, he wished to hug Emmalin, but there were more important things that needed his attention. “Dyna!” Alex yelled across the courtyard. “Your bow!”

  Dyna heard him and stopped her shooting, turning around to hold her bow up to the sky, but nothing happened. Els went down, taking a blade to his left shoulder, but he got right back up again.

  Joya screamed, but she muffled it quickly. She probably feared distracting his grandson. Turning to Emmalin, she said, “They’re in trouble. Have him hold his sword up. Els was struck.”

  Emmalin moved John to her hip and said, “John, hold your sword up to the sky.”

  The laddie held his sword up with a big smile. “I Aleshander Grant, Seanair.”

  Then they waited.

  It didn’t take long. A bolt of lightning shot out of the sky and hit a tree at the edge of the courtyard, tossing four Englishmen into the air. Two didn’t rise, and the other two got up and ran out of the gates as fast as they could, four of their comrades following them.

  “Hold the sword up again, Aleshander Grant,” Alex said. The lad did so, eagerly, and Alex watched the battle, taking note of how it ch
anged. Lightning lit up the sky, a dazzling display of power for all to witness.

  He could tell Alasdair’s swing became much easier, one wide arc cutting down two of the enemy. Alick went after a man who’d attacked Els, probably because he knew he was injured, taking the fool down with one cut—and then struck an Englishman, who stared at the hilt of his sword in disbelief. Probably because it had burned his hands. The lads were able to transfer the heat, the energy, they’d harnessed into their enemies’ hilts, just like they’d done before, and their own weapons were also moving more quickly, more powerfully. It gave them the advantage they’d desperately needed.

  John held his sword up again and three more bolts of lightning lit up the sky. John chuckled and said, “My do yat, Seanair. See? I Aleshander Grant.”

  “Aye, you did, laddie.” He ruffled the lad’s hair while he chuckled.

  The Grant force overpowered the enemy in time. Alasdair’s sword moved slower and he finally rested the tip on the ground, looking about the courtyard for any stragglers. Then he glanced up and stared straight at his wife and smiled, nodding.

  Emmalin held her face against her son and whispered, “Thanks be to God.”

  This challenge was done.

  ***

  Kyla moved down the staircase into the cellars, searching for another cask of ale for the morrow. She checked the stores herself once every fortnight to ensure they had the supplies they needed. Once she decided which one she wanted, she’d send three lads down to move everything about so they could retrieve the right cask for her.

  She searched, found the one she wanted, shivering slightly in the cool drafty air, then left the storeroom door open so the lads wouldn’t need to unlock it when they came down. She walked across the stone floor, her boots echoing, but she hadn’t made it very far before a masked man stepped in front of her, coming out from behind a pillar in the shadows.

  “You’ll come with us quietly.”

  Two others stepped out beside him. Her instinct was to run, but her sire had trained her well. No reason to use up your strength in a hopeless situation. Could she outrun or stop three well-built men?

 

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