by Barbara Bard
Finlay, gently sweeping a strand of loose hair behind Isla’s ear, kissed her once more and said: “I love ye, Lady Isla. I love ye mair than anything in the world.”
Rubbing his stubble, Isla returned the kiss and said: “And I love ye, Finlay Baird, mair than anything else in the world.”
They fell asleep in each other’s arms, confident to take on the world and Lord Henry in a battle they knew was just around the corner.
Chapter 28
Lord Henry hollered out in pain as Stephen removed the dagger that had been stuck in his abdomen by Isla.
“Bloody hell!” he screamed. “Careful, you commoner fool! I am bleeding out like a stuck pig!”
Stephen, reacting not in the slightest, saw that the blade had merely penetrated muscle but no vital organs—Lord Henry would live. It was just a matter of staving off the infection.
“I understand your attraction to Lady Isla,” he said to his lord. “But she did quite an awful job when it came to matter of your assassination.”
Lord Henry winced as Stephen cleaned and sewed up his wound.
“She is a fool like all the others who attempted to take my life,” he replied. “I will die when I feel the time is ready, when I am an old man in my bed. Sleep will take me. Not the blade of some Highlander whore.”
Lord Henry then grit his teeth as he looked around at his tattered and depleted legion of men huddled around a fire. He was the only one who had been given a tent, being that he and his men had fled with very few of their supplies after the Highlander attack that was mounted after Isla’s ruse. His men were bloodied, wounded, fatigued, and their numbers had been dwindled down to just shy of 70 after the attack at the camp that, as far as Lord Henry was concerned, should not have happened.
Lord Henry slapped Stephen’s hand away, kicking at the bowl of water by his feet and startling some of the other men as he said: “Bastards! How in the bloody hell could we have allowed those savages to infiltrate us? Us! Me!”
He pounded his chest. “I am royalty! I am a lord! My forces greatly outnumber that of the Highlanders, and somehow, in some slight from God, they managed to best me?”
Stephen held up his hand. “It was a cowardly attack, my lord. This is but one small victory that the Highlanders have gained amongst a lifetime of losses. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
Lord Henry pointed his finger. “Not to me,” he said defiantly.
“Not to me! I will not stand for this. I will not be pushed into the remote areas of the Highlands and be disgraced in such a fashion. We will rally our forces. We shall go to the nearest settlement the kingdom has established and recruit more men.”
Stephen hung his head. He was a man committed to his lord to the ends of the earth, but he knew that his lord was operating off of rage that clouded his judgment.
“My Lord,” he said, choosing his words carefully from having witnessed the fates that the other men who had challenged Lord Henry’s methods before, “how should we handle the news of your father? I can assure you that the king and one of his interested parties will no doubt send word of his condition.”
Lord Henry pondered the notion, for once settling himself down enough to think in a critical fashion.
“The solution for that will simply require a bit of dishonesty.”
“As in, my Lord?”
“As in, we retreat to whatever outpost is closest, inform our countrymen that half of our men and my father were slaughtered by the Highlanders, and then we return with reinforcements to cut each and every one of them down with a ruthless and unforgiving display of aggression.”
Stephen nodded. “A good plan, my Lord. It will be our word against the savages.”
“Indeed, my good man,” Lord Henry said, settling back and confident at his plan. “Once we have prepared good and proper, we will finish what I should have once and for all.”
“And do you wish to kill all of them, my lord?” Stephen asked, Lord Henry needing no further hinting than Stephen’s inflection to know that he was referring to Isla.
“Oh, yes, my good man,” Lord Henry said, sitting up with a fiery glint in his eye.
“All of them. I no longer desire the reprehensible Lady Isla. That time has passed. She attempted to disgrace and then murder me with her actions. No, Stephen, that woman will suffer the worst fate out of all in her clan.” He smiled.
“First, I will kill her sister. Then, anyone else that she holds feelings for in front of her. I will behead them all and make here watch. Once I am finished with that,” he snickered, “and once I am finished with her, I will dispose of her in a pot of tar and seal it shut so that only she can hear her screams.”
Stephen, as usual, was unmoved by his Lord’s intentions, and merely replied: “Very good, my lord,” before he finished up tending to Lord Henry’s wounds.
“And to all of you,” Lord Henry said, pointing to a bottle of whiskey that Stephen then fetched for him.
“You fought gallantly. You shall be rewarded and given proper compensation for what you have all done for me.”
He removed the cork from the bottle and swigged, the pain from his cut immediately soothed and bringing out the classic and lecherous spirit that he usually toted.
“Let me ask you: do you wish to kill each and everyone one of those Scottish bastards that attacked us today? Do you wish to take your vengeance out on these savages?”
Nods of agreement. Mumbles.
“Well,” Lord Henry said, “the time for that draws near. So, rest easy tonight, gentlemen. Each and every one of you will be able to take a Highlander’s head as a trophy in the not-too-distant future.
***
The morning had come, and Riley had already set about organizing his collection of men. Isla was with Gavina, still talking her down from the events that had transpired the day prior as Finlay coordinated the members of Isla’s clan and set about saddling his horse.
“Riley,” Finlay called.
Riley approached Finlay. “Aye, lad?”
“Hae ye reached a decision about wether or nae ye will follow us to track Lord Henry?”
Riley nodded. “Aye,” he said. “I couldn’ae in good faith order them tae follow. Several of our men have already perished. However, I did ask for volunteers to help assist ye.”
Finlay felt like he was holding his breath. “And how many did ye receive?”
Riley smirked. “All of them, including myself.”
Finlay planted his hand firmly on the man’s shoulders and squeezed.
“Thank you, me lord. Ye might hae saved us all with yer help.”
“I thought on it fer the night. I believe that Isla is correct in her assumption that the wrath of Lord Henry with return in a fevered manner if we dinnae hunt him down. There is nae fae he could hae gone. The closest town rests to the west.”
“A town? Which town?”
“One that was recently erected by the Sassenach. One of me men discovered it weeks ago during his ride. It is a day and half’s ride away. Even if Lord Henry is on the move, we still hae a chance to catch up to him.”
“And if he makes it tae the village? Then what?”
Riley sighed. “We shall handle that when we arrive at that point. We shall have tae plan this accordingly. There are no guarantees as tae what the outcome may be.”
The group set about finishing their packing as Finlay walked over to check in on Isla and Gavina.
“How are ye, little one?”
Gavina, yawning off the last bits of weariness from the events of the past few days, smiled fondly at Finlay.
“I am quite well, Finlay Baird. I hae ye tae thank fer that.”
Finlay shook his head. “Naw, me dear.” He pointed to Isla. “It was the quick thinking and swift actions of yer sister that saved the day.”
“Oh, naw, it was nae that way! Ye rescued us! I was there. I am forever in yer debt.” Gavina locked her arms around Finlay’s neck and sighed relief, Finlay embracing the young child as Isla
smiled at the both fondly.
“I am glad ye are alright,” Finlay said as he broke the hug. “But we maist move quickly. We hae quite the journey ahead of us.”
After saddling up Gavina with one of the other riders, Isla and Riley congregated with Riley at the head of the group. Riley was pointing toward the horizon, where the road dipped down into a valley that lead into a collection of trees that ran for miles.
“That is the only direction Lord Henry of Sanford could hae fled in,” he said. “That forest spans a half day’s ride before leading to the village I was telling ye aboot.”
“What village?” Isla inquired.
“A Sassenach stronghold,” Riley said. “It is quite new. I was informed by one of me men that the Sassenach are still in the stages of fortifying the grounds. It is mair than possible that there are weaknesses we can exploit.”
Isla bit her lip, thinking.
“If we encounter tae many men,” she said, “we will hae tae request help from whatever fellow Highlanders we can reach.”
“A difficult feat, me lady. The Sassenach hae control over much of the lands.”
“Perhaps,” Finlay interjected, “a subtle approach like the last one will be our safest bet.”
“We will hae tae see this village first,” Isla said, already moving toward her horse. “We must nae longer delay. Time is against us.”
“What of Gavina?” Finlay said, gesturing to the young girl. “Perhaps we should send her back to Riley’s village.”
“Agreed,” Riley said. “We can afford one rider tae take her back.”
Isla nodded her approval.
“Aye. She has seen enough war tae last fer a lifetime.”
Isla then approached the horse she was mounted on, informed the rider with her of the plan to take her back, and already found herself having to calm Gavina down when she heard of the plan.
“I want tae stay with ye!” Gavina pleaded. “Please, I can fight!”
Isla brushed her cheek. “I hae nae doubt, little one. But the time has come fer ye tae return.”
“Naw, Isla, please! I feel safer with ye! I want tae stay!”
“I ken ye dae. But it is nae safe, my sweet sister. I must look out fer yer best interests.”
“But Isla—
“Gavina,” Isla said as she took Gavina’s hand, “I will arrive back in the village before ye ken it. One day at the maist. That is all. I will return tae ye. I promise.”
Gavina wiped the tears from her eyes. “With Finlay Baird as well?”
A smile. “With Finlay Baird as well.”
Gavina and the rider escorting her then marched off in the direction of Riley’s village. Finlay and Isla watching her as she turned into a faint outline in the distance as he squeezed her hand in an assuring manner and told her they needed to move.
The group mounted their steeds, went over the plan, and set about riding through the terrain before quickly reaching the edge of the forest, dark and expansive and causing all those in attendance to look over both shoulders more than once for any signs of something out of the ordinary.
After a half day’s ride, the group, huddled together tight, found themselves in an open field on the edge of the forest with nothing in sight except a modest cottage and farmland stretching behind it as far as the eye could see.
Isla ordered the group to a halt. “Is that the Sassenach?”
Riley shook his head. “Naw, me lady. I believe that these are nothing mair than farmland.”
A moment later, a man in baggy clothing and hair the color of silver stepped out of his cottage, staring at the Highlanders and forming the tiniest of smiles as he beckoned them to approach. Cautious, but still elated to find a fellow countryman, the group rode together and were greeted by the farmer and sole occupant of the lands who said to them: “Come. I ken what ye seek—the savage Sassenach Lord came through here nae long ago.”
Chapter 29
Lord Torstein arrived at the remains of what was Lord Henry’s camp a little over an hour after Isla and the clan had departed. His numbers were fifty strong, with each man among his ranks consistent of some of the most capable and lethal of the knights that had been produced by the king.
They rode through the village, each of them sidestepping the bodies of their countrymen that had been piled on the edge of camp. Lord Torstein, riding in the middle of the pack, could immediately tell what had happened, based on the arrows protruding from some of the bodies and the separate horse prints that were scattered in every direction.
“It appears,” one of Lord Torstein’s called out, “that Lord Henry of Sanford and his men were ambushed, my lord.”
Lord Torstein nodded. “An astute observation. And one that does not surprise me in the slightest. The foolishness of Lord Henry brought this about.”
They continued their ride through the camp, covering all ends before they congregated at the head of the camp and several of them dismounted their horses along with Lord Torstein.
“My Lord,” the same knight said. “Do you think that Lord Henry perished among them?”
Lord Torstein’s eyes searched the camp before falling on the biggest and most well maintained tents of them all. He approached, a palm resting on the hilt of his sword as he entered the tent and took a look around.
“Lord Henry’s quarters, undoubtedly,” he said, searching for any sign or clue that could tell him what had happened to the disgraced nobleman. After a few moments, Lord Torstein, almost sniffing the air, shook his head.
“No,” he said. “He is still alive. A fight commenced here, no doubt. But Lord Henry is like a rat that seems to always avoid being put down.”
“Where could he have gone, my lord?”
Lord Torstein stepped outside of the tent and followed a trail of hoof prints edging toward the forest that lay but a few miles away.
“There is a village,” he said, “not far from here. I have a feeling that Lord Henry and whatever of his men that remain fled in that direction.”
“Which village, my lord?”
“A knight by the name of Sir Richard of Reighton is in charge. It is a stronghold that was recently established by order of the king. Sir Richard was tasked with recruiting and training other knights and warriors inside the walls of the outpost. I feel that Lord Henry is making his way to said outpost. He no doubt plans on informing Sir Richard of whatever story he has concocted in order to avoid punishment.”
“So, we pursue him,” the knight said.
“Aye,” Lord Torstein said, “but another matter troubles me so.”
“What would that be, my lord?”
Lord Torstein nodded to the tracks. “These prints in the ground have been covered by fresh tracks made significantly recently. I fear that the men who attacked Lord Henry are also in pursuit of him.”
“Highlanders, my Lord?”
A nod. “My feelings tell me that to be true. However, even if it is not, it is clear that we have stumbled upon a warpath leading to not only Lord Henry but another pack of warriors hell-bent on his demise.”
“What course of action do you wish to pursue then, my lord?”
Lord Torstein contemplated the notion for a solid minute.
“We pursue them,” he finally said. “It is important that we find Lord Henry of Sanford and confront him over what his knight has told us. I feel that we should also send word out to the king. He must be made aware of what is transpiring.”
The knight swallowed the tension in his throat. “The king, my Lord?”
“Yes. The king. He must be told of the dire circumstances that plague these lands. He must be informed of Earl Simon of Sanford’s demise. He must be told that Earl Simon’s son seeks to burn everything down that we have worked so very hard to build.”
Lord Torstein then retrieved his fastest rider and bid him the news: “I want you to ride south back to the castle. Inform Sir Perry that he needs to send word posthaste to the king. Tell him that Lord Torstein is searching for Lord Henry
. Tell him of what has transpired. Tell him that I want his official word to dispatch of this disgrace from our ranks once and for all.”
The rider fled back to the castle as fast as his horse would carry him, ready to spread word to the king of Lord Henry of Sanford’s fall from grace. Lord Torstein then ordered his men to mount their rides and proceeded forward toward the forest.
“My lord,” the knight riding to the right of him said, “what if we encounter resistance from Lord Henry upon our discovery of him.”