by B. J. Scott
Arya stood. “I’d rather do the fishing. I have quite a knack for it,” she said. “Where is it written that a woman must tend to the task of setting up a household or camp while the men hunt and fish?”
“Alasdair can handle it. You can assist me.”
“Fine. Then I’ll gather some wood for the fire.” Before he could protest, she sprinted toward a grove of trees. A good place to tend to her needs and far enough away from Bryce to avoid his nagging and sarcastic remarks.
“Dinna wander too far. If you get lost, I willna come looking for you,” Bryce shouted after her.
While a snide rebuttal burned on her lips, and it wasn’t in her nature to hold her tongue when challenged, she opted to refrain from comment. This journey was stressful enough without antagonizing Bryce any further. Instead, she offered a polite little wave, then disappeared into the woods, seeking some privacy and a chance to relieve herself.
Arya returned a short time later with several small logs, some bits of bark, and a few broken branches. She dumped them in the middle of the clearing, then brushed the dirt and leaves from her tunic and trews.
Bryce piled the kindling, then repeatedly struck two stones together until he managed to create a spark. Once he had the fire started, he added some peat and wood.
Alasdair entered the clearing, carrying two fat salmon. “It won’t be a feast, but it will fill our bellies,” he said. “Arya, why don’t you collect some berries, and see if you can find any herbs to season the fish. I noticed a few bushes over there.” He pointed to the bracken at the edge of the clearing.
Arya offered a curt nod. “Of course, I dinna mind. It is woman’s work after all.” She didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm in her voice. When she reached the berry bushes, she removed her cap and used it to carry the fruit. She picked some sage and other herbs, then returned to the fire.
“Thank you.” Alasdair took the berries and greens, then pointed to spot near the fire. “It won’t take long to cook the fish, but you must be tired. Why not use this chance to rest up before the meal?”
“That willna be necessary. If you give me the wineskins, I will take them to the stream and fetch some water.” To lounge beneath a tree with her feet up sounded glorious, but she’d not show signs of weakness. Besides, going on this errand provided her with a chance to wash the dirt off her hands and face and the opportunity to cool her feet in the water. If water was revitalizing for the horses, it would be good for her too.
Garrett crouched in the bushes outside of Scotia’s croft. The sight of the Campbell’s men milling around, upending carts, and dumping barrels of water and grain, infuriated him, but Scotia was right when she insisted he wait outside where he would not be seen or captured.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door to the croft swung open, and a tall man in a heavy dark cloak emerged.
The Campbell.
Garrett slid his hand over the hilt of his sword, prepared to leap into action should the need arise. He narrowed his eyes, watching intently as the Lord of Argyll approached his men.
“Did you see any sign of her?” Campbell asked one of his warriors.
“Nay.” The man shook his head. “I’m guessing she has fled the area, along with the other MacDougall and MacEachan swine who attacked the castle and managed to escape. Did her mother give you any clues as to her whereabouts?”
“The old woman is on her deathbed and scarcely coherent. She could hardly manage to put two words together in a sentence, and when she did, she made no sense at all,” Campbell replied.
“She has left her mother alone in that state? Either her daughter is a heartless wench or she is lurking close by, waiting for us to leave,” the warrior said. “You’d have thought this would be the first place they’d run.”
Campbell scrubbed his hand across his bearded chin. “I believed so too at first. But there was another woman caring for the mistress of the croft. She swears they havena seen MacEachan’s daughter or the others since the day they left to ransack the castle.”
“She is likely telling a lie.”
“Perhaps. But I think the sickly one is so close to death, there was not much point in the daughter remaining and running the risk of capture.” He walked toward the horses. “The more I ponder it, they’d be fools to run to the first place we’d look. But that is not to say she willna show up eventually. When you searched the area, did you find anyone else?”
“We found no one, m’lord. There are several abandoned huts and tents scattered throughout the woods, but it looks like the entire lot of them left. Or have moved higher into the mountains.”
“Here you are,” a man mumbled in a hushed voice.
Startled, Garrett jumped, then grabbed his cousin by the neck of his tunic and dragged him to the ground. “Damnation, Logan, do you have a death wish? Never sneak up on me like that.” His heart hammering, he rocked back on his heels.
“When I heard the Campbell’s men were here, I thought you might be skulking in the bushes and keeping an eye on Scotia’s hut,” Logan replied. “You are a fugitive like the rest of us. Why did you na flee into the hills like everyone else when we got word they were headed this way?” Logan whispered.
Garrett focused on his enemy. “Because I gave Arya my word that I wouldna leave Scotia unprotected. I’d be there with her now, but she insisted I hide from the Campbell. Stubborn woman.”
“Good thing she is. Getting yourself killed or captured would have been a waste. You wouldna stand a chance against so many, and all hope of bringing Arya home in the near future would be lost.”
“And why are you still here? You’re a wanted man too,” Garrett asked.
“Hard heads run in the family, I guess,” Logan said. “I figured you might have stayed behind and decided you could use my help. Not that I fancy having my neck stretched any more than you do.”
Garrett brought a finger to his lips. “Shhh, keep talking and we will both be swing from yonder trees.” He returned his attention to the Campbell.
“Do you have any idea who helped the chit to escape from your Castle? Maybe they can shed some light on her whereabouts.” one of the warriors asked.
“She obviously had help,” Campbell said. “But from who is a good question. Had Connor Fraser not remained at my castle after the lass escaped, furiously demanding he be notified immediately when she was found, I would suspect he had something to do with her disappearance.”
“And you dinna think that now?”
Campbell shook his head. “Connor is a sly man. I wouldna put anything past him, but he came alone. And while it mayna seem like a coincidence that the woman vanished when he was at my stronghold, right after he asked me to turn her over to him, I have no solid proof he had anything to do with her escape.” He scratched his chin. “I suspect it was her clansmen who set the fires as a distraction then facilitated her get away in the commotion. When I find out who is responsible, they will be punished accordingly.”
“Do you wish to expand the search, m’lord?” the warrior asked. “We can return to the castle for fresh horses, and I can gather a group of men and set out again at first light.”
“Nay. Two days will have passed, and by the time we regroup and start again, they will be far and away. I think it best we lay low and wait for her to come to us.” Campbell threw his leg over his horse’s back and hauled himself into the saddle.
“Her, m’lord? Do you not wish to punish the other scoundrels who attacked the village as well?”
“The raid happened quickly, and I’d be hard pressed to prove the identity of every man involved. But I have no doubt about the lass’s guilt. Punishing her will get my point across nicely,” Campbell said. “I will post a few men on the road leading into and out of this area, and wait to see if she returns. If she is foolish enough to come back, she will rue the day.�
�� He pressed his heels into the animal’s sides and the horse bolted off, the rest of his warriors following.
Garrett and Logan waited until the last of the Campbell warriors rode out of site, then made a dash for the back entrance to Scotia’s croft. Certain the coast was clear, Garrett slipped inside, leaving Logan to watch the door.
“Is she all right?” Garrett asked Isla as he rushed to Scotia’s bedside.
Scotia peered up at him and frowned. “What are you doing here? The Campbell could return and if he finds you—”
“They’ve gone. We waited and made certain of that before we approached the hut,” Garrett said.
“We? Who was fool enough to stay here with you?” Scotia asked.
“My cousin Logan. He is watching the hut as we speak, in case anyone returns.” Garrett crouched beside the bed and lifted Scotia’s hand. “I feared the worse when I heard the Campbell tell his men you were on death’s doorstep.”
“I figured it best to let him think so. I doubted even a scoundrel like him would pester a dying woman with questions. And it appears to have worked. He left after a few minutes.” Scotia’s smile quickly changed to a look of concern. “But not before vowing to find Arya and see her arrested if she ever returns. She must never come back. You must see to it.”
“She is safely away and you can rest easy that she willna return until it is wise to do so. Connor has gone to ask the Bruce for a pardon and once granted, the Campbell would not dare carry out his threats,” Garrett reassured her.
“I hope you’re right. And I pray she will find a home at Fraser Castle with her brothers and their families.” Tears welled in Scotia’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “She is a good lass, and deserves to have a wonderful life. One her father would wished for her to have. Had he known about her, that is.”
Garrett had his doubts that Arya would find happiness amongst her enemy, and knowing her fierce, unselfish loyalty to her mother and her clan, he feared she might return before it was safe to do so. He missed her more than he could ever imagine, and longed to hold her in his arms. But for now, a part of him was relieved to know she was safe.
“Letting Arya leave with the Frasers was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. When she pleaded with me to let her say, I nearly gave in, but sadly, I must admit she is safer with them than here.” Garrett hung his head. “I would be lying if I said I dinna hope she would return home where she belongs. But I also know that isna likely to happen any time soon.”
Scotia squeezed his hand. “Part of loving someone is letting them go if it is in their best interest. I know you’d hoped to marry my daughter someday, and it would have pleased Ronald and me immensely to see her settle down with you. But she needs to be somewhere safe. In a place where she can learn to be a lady and curb her wild ways. Otherwise, she was on a straight path to destruction and we both know that.”
“Arya is out of harm’s way, so you can rest easy. This ordeal has been a very trying day for you too.” Garrett released Scotia’s hand, then tucked a pelt around her shoulders. “Sleep now. I will stay here with Isla in case you need anything.”
“Are you certain the Campbell willna return? I wouldna want you to put yourself in danger on my account. He will be looking for you.” She peered up at him.
“We will keep our heads on a swivel, but from what I overheard, the Campbell is not going to pursue those of us who got away, and will leave Arya alone as long as she does not return to the area.” Garrett knew he may have twisted the truth a little, but she needed to rest. “Sleep, Scotia.”
Once she’d settled, Garrett stepped away from the bed and sauntered over to the window. He peered outside, darkness now blanketing the area. While he was certain the Frasers had Arya well-guarded, he wondered if she was happy.
He tried to purge the image of her face from his mind, the look of utter shock and glower of anger she cast in his direction before he turned his back on her, leaving her with the Frasers. But it was no use. And while there was a good chance she now hated him, sending her away was for the best. Or so he tried to convince himself. He chuckled. The Frasers had a real challenge on their hands if they thought for a minute they could control Arya or turn her into a lady. Heaven help them.
In fact, it wouldn’t surprise him if Arya came strolling through the door of her mother’s croft any minute.
Chapter 12
After three days in the saddle, sleeping on the cold hard ground at night, and being forced to listening to Bryce’s barrage of spiteful comments, Arya was actually relieved when Fraser Castle came into view.
“It will feel good to be home.” Bryce urged his horse onward.
Home. Her stomach did a quick flip. The impressive stone keep looming on the horizon was massive, at least double the size of the Campbell’s stronghold. But it would never feel like home. Thoughts of her mother crossed her mind, as they often had during the journey. Was Scotia all right? Had she made a huge mistake by leaving her behind?
“Bryce is right. A hot meal and a tankard of ale sounds good about now. You must be famished,” Alasdair said to Arya.
“I know I am starving. And I canna wait to see my wife and bairns,” Ian added, then spurred his mount. His brothers followed.
“Well, there is no point in wasting any more time, lass. Let’s go,” Alasdair said, then raced after the others.
As they approached the portcullis, the guards atop the parapets waved them onward. The huge ironclad gate yawned before them, and beyond that, the bailey and Fraser Castle. The lair of her enemy.
“Welcome home, Lord Alasdair. Can I take your horse?” A young lad of about thirteen summers ran toward them.
“Aye, Rory, and make sure mine get a hardy helping of oats and a good rubdown. I will be leaving in a couple of hours so once he has been fed and tended to, have him saddled up and ready. I have a two-day hard ride to Sinclair Castle, and I want to be away before dark.”
Arya’s chest tightened at his words. While she did not fancy spending time with any of the Frasers, she found Alasdair the most pleasant and accommodating of the three brothers. To look at his huge frame and rugged, angular features, one would think he’d be the gruff, short-tempered one, proving looks can be deceiving. Once he departed, there was no telling what would transpire between her and Bryce. The thought left her cold.
Arya dismounted and took a minute to stretch out the kinks in her back and legs before climbing the castle steps. Upon entry, she was pleasantly surprised at the warm, welcoming atmosphere that greeted her. Brightly colored banners, tapestries, and pennons adorned the walls. A huge crest with the Fraser Clan motto hung over the fireplace that occupied most of the entranceway, and a roaring fire blazed on the hearth. Servants scurried about, seeing to their chores while others laughed and cajoled with each other.
“There are the ladies and bairns.” Alasdair pointed to a group of people standing near the hearth, talking to Bryce. “I’m sure they’re most anxious to meet you.”
Arya wished she could say the same thing. As they approached the women, she suddenly became very self-conscious of her attire and appearance. She had no idea why. These people were strangers, her enemy, and impressing people had never been a concern before now.
But these two women were stunning. One had jet-black hair and the other a rich shade of auburn. They wore fine clothes, their porcelain-like skin, and upswept hairstyles reminding Arya of two princesses. She quickly ran her fingers through her tangled locks, then smoothed her palms down the front of her dust-covered tunic. She glanced at her hands. They belonged to a woman who toiled in the soil, chopped wood, and rode without gloves. Her nails were rough, and the skin weathered. She tucked them behind her back.
“I have matters to tend to and will return shortly.” Bryce kissed the dark-haired woman on the cheek, then stormed off.
Alasdair watched h
is brother’s retreat before proceeding with introductions. “Arya, these lovely ladies are my sisters-by-marriage, Cailin and Fallon.” He smiled down at the bairns. “And these whelps are their offspring.”
So many weans, Arya thought as she studied the brood clinging to their mothers’ skirts. She counted at least eight of them. If nothing more, the Fraser men had no problem procreating.
“I’m so pleased to have you with us.” The one he called Cailin stepped forward with her hand outstretched.
Arya nodded at the ladies, but kept her hands hidden.
“Mother, why is she dirty and dressed like a man?” one of the bairns asked. “She has a dirk and a sword too.”
Cailin crouched down to answer the lass’s question. “That is not polite, Leslie. Arya has been on a very long journey and has not had time to freshen up or to change her clothes. When traveling in unknown territory, it is wise to carry a weapon to protect yourself.” She looked up at Arya. “I am sorry. Please forgive my daughter, she meant no disrespect. She is six and the only lass Connor and I have been blessed with so far. I’m afraid she can be quite outspoken at times.” She tousled Leslie’s fiery curls.
“There is no need to apologize,” Arya replied. “I am pleased to meet you, Leslie, and I understand what it is like to be the only lass in a group of lads.” The pouting bairn was the image of her mam.
“And these are my other four bairns.” Cailin placed her hand on the oldest lad’s back and gently shoved him forward. “This is Andrew. He has seen nine summers.”
Andrew puffed out his chest and raised his chin. “I am not a bairn. I am almost grown, and soon will be able to ride with my da and the men when they go hunting or to visit the other strongholds,” he said proudly. “Someday, I will be laird of Clan Fraser.”