“And ye like livin’ that way?” Caleb couldn’t understand why anyone would put up with that.
“No’ really, but ye realize, my faither is all I have. I’d do anythin’ for him.”
“But didna ye want to marry and have bairns, lassie? I thought every woman wanted that.”
Sadness filled her eyes and her lip trembled when she answered. “No’ everyone is so lucky,” she said in a soft voice. “But none of that matters.”
“Why no’?”
“Because my faither is no’ well. He is auld and his health is no’ what it used to be. I need to watch over him. He needs me.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Caleb looked over to the man sleeping on the ground. “He seems fine to me.”
“His sword hand was injured in his earlier years, and his arm cramps up terribly,” she told him. “He canna grasp a sword, or anythin’ anymore. That’s why he is no longer a soldier, but a chronicler instead.”
“Really.” Caleb thought it odd. “But bein’ a chronicler, surely, he has to grasp a quill. And I’ve seen him writin’ in the Highland Chronicles. It didna seem as if he had trouble holdin’ the quill at all.”
She made an odd expression, and her eyes darted back and forth. “Aye, but he’s learned to write, usin’ his left hand. However, he canna hold a sword in his left hand. So ye see what I mean.”
“I suppose so,” said Caleb, thinking her story didn’t sound right, but not wanting to rile her by asking more.
“Enough about my family,” she said, clearing her throat. “Tell me about yers, Caleb.”
Caleb was happy to hear a girl asking him about himself since it wasn’t often that it happened. People didn’t normally take an interest in him this way.
“Well, as ye already ken from yer faither’s writin’s in the chronicles, my da is Ian MacKeefe – one of the madmen.”
“Aye. He’s no’ the chieftain, Ian, but another Ian.”
“That’s right,” he replied. “And my mathair’s name is Kyla. She is the sister of Aidan – Logan’s da.”
“Aye, she is the small lassie who can outdrink any man when it comes to Mountain Magic.”
“Well, I dinna ken if that is true, but my mathair grew up with the madmen, and that’s how she learned to do all those crazy things,” he said proudly.
“What about yer siblin’s?” she asked. “I thought when we were at Hermitage Castle someone said yer siblin’s were there, but I didna have a chance to meet them.”
“Och, aye, I have many siblin’s,” he told her. “I’m the eldest. Then come my twin brathairs, Finn and Quinn, followed by my brathair Grant.”
“So ye have three brathairs, just like I had. Do ye have any sisters?”
“Two,” he explained. “Trea, and then Finnea is the youngest at six and ten years of age.”
“My, yer mathair must have always been pregnant for a while there,” she said with a slight giggle.
“My mathair loves children and always wanted a large family since it was only her and her brathair, Aidan, growin’ up. They lost their parents early in life,” he explained.
“It must be nice to have a large family with lots of siblin’s. Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to have my brathairs alive, or even a sister to talk to. It’s been just me and my da for so long, that I often get lonely.”
Caleb saw sadness in Bridget’s eyes and his heart went out to her. He was always around a lot of people so he couldn’t even understand being lonely.
“Aye, it is nice to have siblin’s. However, my brathairs are all married and spend a lot of time with their wives’ clans, so I dinna see them often. And since I like to stay in the Highlands and my sisters live at the castle, I dinna see them often either.”
“Really? How sad,” she said. “If I had siblin’s, I would want to spend every minute with them that I could.”
Slink ran in from outside with Jack right on its tail. The pine marten jumped into Caleb’s arms, hissing and showing its fangs at the wolf.
“Jack, ye leave Slink alone,” commanded Caleb, nestling the weasel-like animal in his arms, running a soothing hand over its head. “Hush, Slink, I willna let Jack hurt ye. Go away,” he said, shooing the wolf with his hand.
“Come here, Jack,” came Logan’s voice, and the wolf ran over and laid down atop the plaid that Logan and Rhoswen were using as a blanket.
“See? Ye’re safe now, so ye dinna need to worry,” Caleb talked to his pet. “I’ll protect ye from that big, bad wolf.”
“My wolf is big but it isna bad,” grumbled Logan, throwing one arm over his wolf and the other over his wife.
Caleb looked up to see Bridget staring at him.
“What?” he asked, continuing to pet Slink. The pine marten curled up on his lap contently.
“I think ye’ll make a guid faither someday, Caleb MacKeefe,” she said with a smile. “I’m surprised some lass hasna already snatched ye up, just so no one else could have ye.”
She got up and walked back to where her father slept. She laid down next to him and pulled the plaid up to her chin.
“Did ye hear that, Slink?” Caleb whispered to his pine marten. “She thinks I’ll make a guid faither. Do ye think so, too?”
Caleb laid down at the edge of the fire with Slink in his arms and a smile on his face. Mayhap he still had a chance with Bridget after all.
Chapter 7
“Caleb, get up!” Caleb rolled over the next morning, feeling the toe of Logan’s boot hitting him in the side. “Caleb, did ye hear me?” asked Logan in a low voice.
“I no’ only heard ye, but I felt yer damned toe kicking me in the ribs. Now stop it and let me be.” He reached out and pushed Logan’s foot away.
Opening his eyes, he saw Logan staring down at him, fully dressed. Rhoswen was bringing Bridget and her father their dry clothes. That’s when he heard Jack growling lowly from the mouth of the cave.
“God’s breath, Logan, is yer wolf growlin’ at Slink?” Caleb sat up abruptly, rubbing one eye, seeing Jack staring out the entrance at full alert. It was still foggy outside but the early morning sun sent streaks of light right through it.
“Slink is over here,” Bridget called out, causing Caleb to turn his head to see his pet was not harmed. “I guess he wanted to sleep by me last night.”
“I ken the feelin’,” said Caleb under his breath.
“Hurry and dress. We’ve got someone tryin’ to steal the horses,” said Logan, pulling his sword from his sheath and heading to the entrance.
“What? Really?” Caleb threw on his clothes and pushed his feet into his boots, feeling that they were still wet. “Who is it?” he asked, strapping on his weapon belt.
“I dinna ken but we’re about to find out. Come on, Jack, let’s go get them.” Jack ran out of the cave with Logan following right behind him.
“It’s the dead souls. They’ve come to get us,” said Brigham.
“Faither, quiet,” Bridget hushed him up. “If there’s trouble, we dinna want to give away our whereabouts.”
“Stay here. All of ye,” commanded Caleb, running for the door. “And watch over Slink until I return.”
Caleb ran outside, heading to where they’d left the horses last night. The fog still hung heavy and low over the land, but with the rising sun, it would dissipate quickly now.
“Logan, where are ye?” asked Caleb in a semi-whisper. He saw the silhouettes of two men up ahead and then heard Jack growling again. The tombstones pushed up through the fog, making the whole place very eerie. He took a step forward and jerked backward as someone gripped his shoulder. With his sword already drawn, he spun around, ready to kill his attacker. The sound of metal against metal rang out as his sword clashed with Logan’s.
“God’s eyes, careful with that thing before ye take off my head,” growled Logan.
“I thought ye were the thief.”
“Nay, I’m no’ the thief, but I think he is.” Logan nodded as a man rode out of the fog atop Cale
b’s horse. Caleb wasn’t about to let the thief get away. He reached up as the man rode past, pulling him off the horse and throwing him down.
“Umph,” came the voice of the thief as his body hit the ground hard. Caleb’s horse neighed and reared back. Frightened, it took off in the opposite direction. Jack chased down another thief, and Logan took off at a run for one more that could be seen riding off, leading two of their horses by the reins.
“Ye’ll die for tryin’ to steal my horse.” Caleb’s sword was instantly at the man’s throat. The man was on his belly. “Turn over, and let me see yer face as I kill ye,” Caleb snapped. “Hands above yer head and away from yer weapons.”
Caleb reached down with his free hand, snatching away the man’s sword as he rolled over. Through the fog came a sunbeam, lighting up the thief’s face. “Grant?” he asked, seeing his brother lying on the ground. “What the hell are ye doin’?”
“Caleb, we finally found ye.”
Caleb moved the tip away from his brother’s throat and offered him his hand to get to his feet.
“What do ye mean?” asked Caleb, hearing Jack still growling and a struggle going on nearby.
“Quinn, Finn, and I came lookin’ for ye as soon as we found out ye were on yer way to Hermitage Castle.”
“God’s teeth, Quinn and Finn are out there, too?”
“Aye.”
“Logan,” bellowed Caleb. “Call off Jack. My brathairs are out there so dinna hurt them.”
“Jack, down boy,” came Logan’s voice from the fog. Muffled voices could be heard and then Logan and Caleb’s other brothers emerged from the fog with the reins of the horses in their hands.
“Ye almost got yerself killed,” Logan told the men. “What the hell were ye thinkin’? And why didna ye announce yerselves?”
“Hello, Caleb,” said Finn, the twin with the red hair.
“We thought bandits killed ye and we were lookin’ for yer bodies,” announced Quinn, the dark-haired twin.
“What in the name of the devil are ye talkin’ about?” asked Caleb.
“There has been some talk about an odd man accostin’ people along the road. He’s been seen in this area, but no one actually ever sees his face. He’s been seen headin’ toward Hermitage Castle, and he is very dangerous.”
“Thank ye for yer concern, but Logan and I can protect ourselves, as well as the lassies.”
Bridget heard voices outside of the cave, and ventured out into the fog to find Caleb and Logan. She hadn’t gone far when she thought she heard someone whisper her name. Stopping dead in her tracks, she glanced around, but could see nothing through the fog. After one more step she heard her name called on the wind again. Frightened, she turned in a full circle, wishing now she had never left the cave-like enclosure.
She turned abruptly, meaning to head back, but stopped short as a man appeared in the fog.
“Bridget,” he said, chuckling lowly. And as the fog cleared, she saw his face and screamed. It was the face of someone she had hoped to never see again.
“Bridget? Is everythin’ all right?” Rhoswen came through the fog with Bridget’s father at her side. Rhoswen knew how to fight, had her sword drawn, ready to protect the others if need be.
Bridget’s head snapped back around, but the man she’d seen was now gone. She started to wonder if she’d imagined the whole thing. Perhaps she was starting to go mad just like her father.
“What’s the matter? Who screamed?” Caleb broke through the fog to join them with his sword drawn.
“It was me,” Bridget told them. “I’m fine. I thought I saw a ghost, that’s all. But now I ken I was mistakin’.”
“Where’s Slink?” asked Caleb, always concerned for his pet.
“I’ve got him right here.” Bridget threw open the flap of her travel bag and the pine marten stuck its head out and looked around.
“Bridget, I’d like ye and yer faither to meet my brathairs, Grant, Quinn and Finn,” said Caleb, re-sheathing his sword. “Rhoswen, ye already ken them.”
“Hello,” said Rhoswen, sheathing her sword as well.
“Nice to meet ye.” Bridget smiled and nodded toward the men.
“There’s one of the lost souls,” said Brigham pointing behind the men. The fog was just starting to lift, but they could see the shadow of a man on a horse as he turned and quickly disappeared.
“Who was that?” asked Caleb. “Did ye bring Da with ye, too?” he asked his brothers.
“Nay, it’s just the three of us,” said Finn, looking off into the distance.
“We came as soon as we got the pigeon. That’s how we kent ye left,” explained Quinn.
“I told Da ye’d take this shortcut past the priory,” added Grant. “I kent ye’d come this way to save time. Ye always were impatient.”
“Excuse me,” said Bridget, holding up a finger. She looked back at her father. “My faither wants to ken what ye meant by sayin’ ye came as soon as ye got the pigeon.” She made a face and looked back at the boys.
“They’re talkin’ about the messenger pigeon,” Caleb explained. “Didna ye see the pens we keep at the Highland camp as well as at Hermitage Castle filled with pigeons?”
“Aye,” said Bridget, looking back at her father. “We do remember seein’ them.”
“Well, that’s how we communicate over great distances,” relayed Caleb. “We also have carrier pigeons in England where each of our laird, Storm’s wife’s, siblin’s reside.”
“So ye send messages with the birds,” said Brigham, understanding what he meant.
“Exactly,” answered Caleb. “It has helped us many times to let the rest of the MacKeefes or our allies in England ken what is goin’ on.”
“I dinna like it here. I suggest we stick together and get back to Hermitage Castle as quickly as possible,” said Logan.
“I agree,” said Bridget feeling unsettled. “With the Leader of the Lairds Competition startin’ tomorrow, there will be much to do and we shouldna tarry.”
“We’ve received a missive sayin’ the king will be joinin’ us for the competition this year,” Quinn told them.
“The king is comin’ to Hermitage Castle?” asked Caleb in surprise.
“I canna wait to see the king again,” said Bridget’s father. “Which king will be there?”
“King Robert, Faither,” Bridget told him. “Ye are always jestin’. We should go now.” As they headed out into the fog, the last person she wanted her father to be around right now was the king.
Chapter 8
Caleb led the way back to Hermitage Castle, with Logan at his side. Grant brought up the rear. The twins stayed on each side of the women and Brigham. None of them felt at ease after spending time at Dutmore Priory. And no one but Bridget knew who that man was that they saw riding away in the fog. Valan Douglas was a man that haunted her yet, being from her past. She never wanted to see him again, and neither did she want to tell Caleb and the others that she even knew him. Some things were better left unsaid.
Hours later, they finally rode up to Hermitage Castle on the border. Bridget looked around in awe at all the colorful tents and banners that spotted the grassy open area in front of the castle. People were coming in droves for the competition, camping outside the castle’s gates. Many of them were roaming around inside the courtyard, too.
“Look, Faither. Have ye ever seen so many people in one place at one time?” she asked him.
“Hmph,” snorted Brigham. “It was like this every day at court. So where is our king?”
“I dinna ken,” she said, looking around. Burly Highlanders with plaids of red, yellow, green and blue swarmed around the area, while children flocked to their sides. Women with large trays of food and drinks made their ways through the crowd. A team of strolling musicians played music on their lutes, while jugglers tossed balls and eggs in the air, making the women nervous and the children laugh. A group of young, bonnie Scottish whores stood just outside the gate, giggling and making eyes at the m
en as they entered to register for the competition.
“My, it’s crowded,” commented Bridget as they slowly made their way over the drawbridge, being careful not to trample the old woman selling flowers or the young children chasing the goat.
“Since Storm is hostin’ the competition this year, he wanted to make sure everythin’ is festive and grand,” said Caleb. “He’s a lot like Hawke and likes to put on a show.”
“Hawke isna like that,” commented Logan. “I think ye fill that description better since ye tend to like the attention.”
“Really?” asked Bridget. “I didna realize ye like attention, Caleb.”
“I dinna. He’s lyin’.” Caleb scowled at his friend.
“There ye are,” came the booming voice of the clan’s chieftain, Storm. “I told Wren there was nothin’ to worry about, but she insisted I send the boys out to find ye since there was bad weather.”
“Welcome,” called out his wife, Wren, running to keep up with his long stride. “Bridget and Brigham, I am so glad you made it here before King Robert since he requested you record the competition in the Highland Chronicles.”
“We wouldna miss this for anythin’, Lady Wren,” said Bridget, stopping her horse. Like always, Caleb was right there to help her dismount.
“The king will be here soon, and there are still a lot of preparations to be made,” Storm told them. “Men, I am hopin’ ye will all pitch in, gettin’ the practice field ready for the events.”
“Of course,” said Logan. “We’d be happy to. Wouldna we, Caleb?”
“Aye, sure,” he said, seeming very distracted.
“Bridget, you and your father will be staying in the chamber right down from the great hall,” said Wren. “I thought it would be nice to be close to the great hall where there is always something going on. I’m sure you’ll want to start recording happenings in the Highland Chronicles right away.”
Highland Spy: Highland Chronicles Series - Book 4 Page 7