by Blair, Willa
All too soon, they moved on. The hours dragged by in silence, the trees they passed between seeming to swallow any sound their boots made. Near dark, Kenneth again called a halt. They set up a rough camp around a small fire built in a hollow that would hide the fire’s glow. Kenneth and Catherine gathered deadfall to feed the flames through the night while Cam hunted something for their supper. They still had the provisions she’d taken from Abi’s kitchen and most of what Craig had provided. But they would live off the land as much as they could and hoard those supplies in case they found no friendly stopping places along the way.
Cam returned with two rabbits. He cleaned them quickly and skewered them on sticks to roast. While their supper cooked, they debated which way to go to return to the Highlands.
“Turning north to take the ferry at Portincragge across the Tay to Dundee makes the most sense,” Cam argued. “Wool merchants there have a thriving export trade. Failing that, we could blend in with other pilgrims going to the wee harbor at Arbroath, bound for the abbey, where we might also find a friendly ship. Or south to Crail. We’d easily blend in with their market day and find a ship in the harbor there.”
Kenneth pulled out his dirk and started drawing a map in the dark soil next to their fire. “Going quietly overland is best,” he insisted, pointing to towns he marked with X’s. “So long as we avoid coming too close to Perth and the Earl’s army.”
They argued routes for a while, then Kenneth added a complication. “I think ’tis best to leave ye somewhere,” he said to Catherine. “The convent said to be located at Crail would do if we couldn’t find another place we considered safe. Another lies farther south near Kilconquhar, if we have no luck in Crail.”
Catherine gasped in outrage. “Ye—we—will do nay such thing! I am no’ chattel to be abandoned…”
“I am no’ talking about abandoning ye, lass. I’m trying to keep ye safe.”
“And forgotten in some abbey,” she snarled and clenched her fists. “Though I suppose ’tis better than being married to a stranger my da chooses for me. What is it about men that makes ye think ye can do what ye like with a woman?”
Cam grinned, but wisely remained silent.
Catherine narrowed her eyes at him anyway.
“The sooner ye are settled, the happier I’ll be,” Kenneth continued. “I should try to return to Brodie, and Sutherland to his clan. If—when—we encounter one of the armies, ye’ll be out of harm’s way.”
Cam nodded. “I fear we canna get across country and avoid Domnhall’s forces. ’Tis why I think it best to remain near the coast.”
Cat chafed as their discussion dragged on into the night. After one argument about their destination that went on for much too long, Catherine made the mistake of wondering aloud if they’d be safer traveling with an army rather than avoiding one.
“I canna protect ye from so many men at once,” Kenneth spat, then glanced at Cam and quickly away.
Catherine held her breath and kept her gaze away from Cam. Would he take offense at the implication Kenneth also had to protect her from him? But while Kenneth fumed, Cam wisely refrained from commenting, and Kenneth didn’t do anything to make the implied insult more direct.
Catherine was beginning to think their years of separation had been a good thing. If she and Kenneth had married when they were so young, they would not have discovered until too late they would fight like this. Yet she couldn’t think of anyone she wanted protecting her—from Domnhall’s army or the Duke’s—than Kenneth Brodie.
“How many days and nights are we going to go on like this?” she finally asked, risking another explosion. They all knew the farther they went overland into the Highland mountains, the more difficult their journey would become.
After a tense pause, he told her, “Ye should be grateful ’tis summer,” and narrowed his eyes as if daring her to say more.
Catherine supposed he’d delayed while he wrestled with how to answer. His mood had darkened with every step they took.
“We could be up to our arses in snow,” he added with a sigh, tossing a bone into the fire.
“Instead of being eaten alive by these damn midges, ye mean?” she complained, then immediately felt guilty. Kenneth was doing what he thought best for both of them—for all of them. It wasn’t his fault they were in this mess. Or was it? If only they’d gone straight to the port. They could have been sailing home in comfort and arriving so much sooner.
Yet Catherine was horrified by what Craig told them had happened to the priest. Kenneth refused to discuss whether he’d met the man in the bishop’s castle, except to remind her she was well served to be away from St. Andrews. She could only hope Abi and her father were unmolested by the violence breaking out there. Violence could spread out of control, and when it did, it affected the innocent. The only safety she could imagine lay behind Rose’s walls. Or if all went well, in Kenneth’s arms. She sucked in a breath, then forced herself to relax. Nay, she had to stop imagining a future like that, especially if they kept arguing as they done since before they left St. Andrews.
“Where are we?” Catherine asked as she leaned her back against a broad oak tree and thought about removing her boots and soaking her feet in a tub of warm water. The fantasy provided little comfort from her aches and pains.
“Away from St. Andrews in a direction they won’t expect, I hope,” Kenneth said. “We’ll keep going ’till midday tomorrow. By then we may have enough distance from town to safely turn northward. ’Tis no’ so far for a man on horseback, but if fortune is with us, ’twill be enough for us to go on in safety.”
Sutherland leaned into the elbow he’d placed on a raised knee and nodded. “If we turn northward, the Tay narrows well east of Perth. We should be able to cross and stay away from Perth to avoid Mar’s men. Or, as ye suggested, we could turn south to Crail.”
“Perhaps once across, we can find some horses,” Catherine added, ignoring the comment about Crail. If Kenneth thought he could leave her there with nuns, she would go north by herself instead.
He and Cam hadn’t complained about how far they’d walked, but Catherine suspected their feet were no happier about their hurried journey than hers. Yet she knew they had no coin for mounts. Unless Sutherland did. Kenneth had the clothes on his back and the blade he’d taken from Abi’s stepfather’s shop, the one he’d used to sketch a map near the fire. She was no better off.
“I have…an associate…above the Tay who might be persuaded to lend mounts,” Cam suddenly offered. “And coin enough to pay for passage, no matter the ship.”
Cat perked up. They would be better off riding than marching across country, even if their journey eventually brought them to a port and a ship as Sutherland expected. She could hope for such good fortune.
“But we must be prepared to walk as far as Aberdeen,” Kenneth advised, his bad mood evident yet again, “living off the land and sleeping on the cold ground if we dinna find a crofter or an isolated bothy to shelter us.”
Catherine slanted Kenneth a frown, though to be fair, he was only being realistic. She regretted leaving Craig’s blankets behind, but she understood why Kenneth would not endanger a man who’d helped them.
* * *
The next day, by chance, they fell in with a group of pilgrims headed for the ferry at Portincragge that would take them north across the Tay.
“I’ve enough coin for our passage,” Cam admitted in a low voice.
Kenneth shrugged and agreed.
The opportunity to travel with others pleased Catherine. It took them north, away from the abbeys Kenneth had mentioned, though the pilgrims’ path meant they’d double back toward St. Andrews for a few miles. Cam seemed cheered to be headed for the coast. There was a chance they might catch another ship at Arbroath where the ferry stopped. She hoped they’d find a way to sail from there to Inverness and avoid the trip through the mountains Kenneth favored. If they didn’t find another ship, at least from Arbroath, they’d start their trek above the Tay
.
The pilgrims avoided towns, which suited her because it lessened the chance they would be seen and recognized as they circled around and passed within a few miles of St. Andrews. Their greatest peril would be at the ferry. If it was guarded and they were recognized, they’d stand little chance.
They reached it more quickly than Catherine thought possible, and thankfully, boarded without incident. She was sad to leave St. Andrews behind, and hoped Abi had found her note and was reassured. She’d write to her cousin again once she reached home.
Taking the ferry north allowed them to avoid Dundee and any royalist soldiers who might be billeted there. After arriving, they discovered no ships were due in at Arbroath over the next few days.
“Even the smugglers are hanging off the coast, waiting for the outcome of the impending battle,” Cam complained as they walked away. “The nearby countryside is in too much of an uproar to risk their cargoes. We’ll keep heading north. No’ far from here, I ken a man who may help us.”
While Cam’s gaze was on their path, Kenneth glanced at him and frowned. “How do ye ken what smugglers are likely to be doing?”
Cam eyed him and grinned. “There’s more to being a merchant’s factor than dealing with ships sailing under royal seal, ye ken. Sometimes the best merchandise and the best prices can be had from…others.”
“Merchant’s factor, aye? Why do I doubt that’s what ye are?”
Cam shrugged. “I canna help what ye believe or no’. Just believe me when I tell ye we’ve more walking to do before we get to where I hope to borrow horses.”
“Borrow?”
“Aye. A man up the coast there,” Cam said, pointing ahead of them, “owes me a favor. And dinna fash, I’ll return his mounts—eventually.”
True to his word, Cam took them to someone he’d dealt with in the past. To Catherine, the man looked like any other farmer or fisherman living along the coast, but his stable was big enough to hold a dozen horses, maybe more. She wondered what Cam could have done for him that he would loan them three good mounts. There was much more to Cam Sutherland than he’d told her or Kenneth. Yet, the farther they traveled with him, the more glimpses of his secrets they got. The man took Cam inside the stable. Kenneth took up a position leaning against the doorway. Catherine stayed outside. Kenneth appeared to be listening with great interest to Cam’s conversation with the man. He could tell her later what they said.
Leaving the men to their talk, she walked away and went to the cliff overlooking the ocean. The wind in her face carried the tang of brine. Below her lay a perfect semi-circle of pebbles and sand. A lovely hidden cove, guarded on both sides by high bluffs, with a nicely slanted path down to the beach that started not far from where she stood. A pirate cove, indeed. She stood for a few minutes, enjoying the wind and imagining men jumping into the surf, pulling long boats above the tide line and offloading kegs and barrels, all under the cover of night. She glanced back at the stable, suddenly aware of another use for all those mounts. Cam’s acquaintance could be running a way station for smugglers and pirates. How did Cam know this man?
She turned and walked back toward the stable, wondering what else it hid. Very likely more than horses. Kenneth now stood outside, holding the reins to two sturdy steeds. She gave Cam a bright smile as he led out a third. By the end of the trip, perhaps she would know exactly who and what Cam Sutherland was.
For now, Catherine could have hugged him for arranging for their mounts and sparing her feet many more miles, but Kenneth would not have reacted well if she did. She simply smiled her thanks and let Kenneth help her onto the horse that would be hers. Then the men mounted up, and with a final farewell from Cam’s acquaintance, they rode north.
Catherine enjoyed the chance to ride. They made better time, aiming for yet another cove where Cam expected to meet one of several ships he knew.
“Bloody pirates,” Kenneth muttered when they reached the empty cove. “Canna count on them.”
Cam laughed and pulled a pouch from his shirt. The clink as he bounced it in his hand told her it was full of coins. “’Tis good when they owe ye,” Cam boasted and tossed the pouch to Kenneth.
Kenneth opened it and his eyes widened at what he saw inside. “What did ye do to be owed all this?” He frowned as he gestured at the horses, then retied the pouch. He held it out to Cam.
Cam waved it away. “Keep it. I’ve another.”
The frown that followed told Catherine he was still worried about something. Kenneth was frowning, too, as he tucked the pouch into his shirt. “Let’s go then,” she urged. “Unless ye want to camp here and see if they come ashore soon.”
Cam looked out over the water and scanned the empty horizon. “Nay. They’ll no’ risk it.”
By late afternoon, they also started to see signs of where Mar’s army had passed through. There were too many churned up fields and broken tools for the cause to be anything else. A few braver souls stared at them with empty eyes from darkened doorways. Catherine hated to think what might have happened here. As they crossed some low hills, they passed through several glens, all empty until the last. Broader than the others they’d just traversed, it had been farmed and someone lived there. Or had. Catherine surveyed the destruction before her with dismay. Burned-out crofts and blackened fields filled the glen. “Who did this? And why?”
Kenneth glanced her way, then returned his gaze to the wreckage before them. “Mar’s men, most likely, to keep Highlanders from making use of it if they manage to come this far. Of course, if Mar prevails, his men won’t be able to make use of it, either.”
On her other side, Cam laughed, a choking, brittle sound carrying no mirth. “A wee shortsighted, that.”
Kenneth’s gaze fastened on her. She knew he must be thinking he had no good options. He couldn’t leave her, and he couldn’t take her with him.
She turned from him to look at Cam. “Do ye think we can reach yer port, still?”
Cam shrugged. “What choice do we have but to press on? If we turn west, we’ll follow the army that did this. I dinna care to run into them. Do ye?”
“Nay, but we’re safer behind them, aye?”
“If we follow them, we’ll ken where they are and be able to avoid them,” Kenneth agreed. “But eventually, they’ll turn around, and then we’ll be square in their path. Let’s keep going north and find that smuggler’s cove ye claim is well used,” he added, glancing aside at Cam. “The sooner, the better. We’ve risked Cat’s safety too long as it is.”
Dismay filled Catherine at Kenneth’s words. He was still determined to be rid of her so he could join the fight. He might still hold some affection for her, but it paled in comparison to his urge to find the Brodies and join the battle. She clenched her jaw, determined not to give voice to her disappointment. She would not embarrass him in front of Cam, who still thought they were wed.
They rode on and near sunset found an inn north of the town of Stonehaven outside the path of the army’s destruction. They stopped for the night, hoping for news. Catherine also hoped some sense of normalcy might reduce the tension between her and Kenneth. She’d argued again and again that she was safer staying with him than being left somewhere with strangers. What they’d seen on the way proved no settlement was safe from Mar’s men—even this far east, in a part of Scotland that did not border the Highlands.
Given Cam’s behavior when she first met him, she might not be safe alone with him, either, if the fiction of her marriage to Kenneth fell apart. She still caught Cam studying her every now and again. He’d look quickly away, which made her nervous enough to stick close to Kenneth’s side. Since they’d decided on their route, the two men had maintained a cooperative demeanor with each other, but Cat wasn’t certain how deep it ran—on either side. The times she’d caught Cam studying Kenneth made her wonder whether Kenneth would be safe with him, either, though Cam had been a helpful traveling companion so far. Kenneth had to sleep sometime. Her only solace was knowing Kenneth was a blooded f
ighter who'd seen the worst men could do to each other and had certainly developed instincts that kept him alive. If she wondered about Cam’s intentions, certainly Kenneth did, too—and kept a careful, if unobtrusive, eye on the northerner.
Kenneth arranged for a room for her before they sat down to eat. The inn’s downstairs common room was full of rough-looking men. Before Cam joined them, Kenneth said, “Ye’ll enjoy sleeping in a bed for one night, aye?”
“What about ye?” Catherine asked softly. She didn’t want to have this discussion in front of Cam, who’d offered to sleep in the barn to keep an eye on the horses. “Cam still thinks we’re wed. Ye must stay with me.”
“I will, if only to make sure none of the other guests disturb ye.”
After they ate, Cam returned to the stable, and Catherine followed the innkeeper up the stairs with Kenneth on her heels. The room boasted a wide cot, a washbasin, chair, hearth and window for the guest’s comfort. Simple enough, but it appeared clean. Catherine nodded, so Kenneth gave the man a coin and he left them, promising to send up hot water for the basin. She wouldn’t get a bath, but she’d be able to wash off some of the travel grime.
“I’ll sleep in front of the door,” Kenneth announced.
Catherine gestured at the bed. “There’s room for both of us.” She took Kenneth’s hand. “I’d feel safer with ye near me.”
He squeezed her hand, then released it. “I will be near ye. The cot is only a few feet from the door.”
Determined, Catherine tried again. “Then at least help me out of this dress,” she requested. She had no doubt she could lift it over her head, but once it was off, she’d ask Kenneth to unlace the day dress underneath it, which would leave her in her shift. After days in the same clothes, she looked forward to getting out of them. And if Kenneth could not resist what he found when they were off, well, she looked forward to what he’d do then, too.