by Amanda Scott
Although she was aware that Clydia was watching her, Katy kept her gaze on MacNab, hoping for more specific information.
Clydia said, “If de Raite avoided fighting, he likely survived the battle, aye?”
“Aye, m’lady,” MacNab replied. “We’d heard nowt of his death afore Lochan sent me here tae report. Someone did say one of his sons was injured, but that were nobbut a rumor. Nae one could say which son it might be.
“For de Raite tae attack Moigh was daft,” he added. “Sitting high in those mountains, in the midst of its loch, the castle be nigh impregnable. Its lookouts can see for miles; but de Raite thinks he can do what wiser men deem impossible.”
“He must be daft,” Katy muttered, her mouth so dry since his mention of de Raite’s injured son that she could barely form the words. Aware that she had drawn her parents’ notice, she kept her eyes on MacNab and said no more.
She shared her feelings only with Clydia after they were in bed that night.
“I know you disapprove,” Katy said, “but Will did save my life that first day, so I cannot wish him ill. In fact, I’m in dreadful terror for him.”
“I know,” Clydia said softly from her own narrow bed. “Until we learn more, though, all you can do is pray that if Will is safe now, he keeps safe.”
“He cannot be dead,” Katy said fiercely. “God would not be so cruel.”
Will’s injuries were neither severe enough nor painful enough to incapacitate him. They were enough, though, in Sunday’s waning daylight to make him glad that despite their earlier scare with the boulder, no one seemed to be pursuing them.
His head, indeed most of him, ached. He had twisted his right ankle badly, and he was bone tired. Though his injuries irked him and Dae tried his patience, Dae had been kind enough to fashion a crutch out of a downed tree limb for him.
From a vantage point atop a rocky ridge west of the river Erne, thanks only to the red woolen cap Liam wore when he did not wear his helmet, they had seen what Will believed to be Hew, Liam, and Colley returning with de Raite by much the same way they had come. A ragtag score of men followed them, likely the few warriors from the Badenoch and Raitt contingents who had survived.
Will and Dae had followed the west bank of the river Erne for a time before climbing to the ridge above the river to let Will get his bearings.
Since then, they had seen no one else.
In Will’s opinion, the Black Hour had been an omen of the failure to come. Likely, though, de Raite would be furious and blame everyone except himself for the defeat. Such was his usual reaction to loss or a thwarting of his expectations.
Hew and Liam would bear the brunt of his fury. As Will had seen, though, de Raite had badly underestimated the army Malcolm had raised in the short time he had had. By surrounding them all and the loch, his men had easily ambushed them.
Will remembered how de Raite had crowed that he would be close enough to see the dismay on Malcolm’s face when the man awoke at dawn to find himself and his precious castle surrounded.
Shoving that image aside, Will tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and getting himself and Dae back to Raitt. Then, Katy’s image intruded, looking as furious as she had been when she discovered he was a Comyn.
Doubtless, she would now deny ever having declared them married.
He expected to run into trouble at least once as he and Dae wended their way through the rugged mountains back toward Raitt, so they kept out of sight as much as possible. Although they had to move slowly, they managed to evade detection and found plenty of water. However, wary of building a fire, they ate mostly berries, raw nuts, and roots they found along the way.
By day’s end Monday, Will was certain that the other Raitt men would be home long before them and wondered if anyone had even missed them, let alone searched for them. They camped that night by a burn and reached the track that led east to Glen Spey near day’s end on Tuesday.
When forested slopes came into view as they headed north, they felt safe enough when they reached the trees to wash off the worst of their dirt in the first rill they saw. Will also soaked his still-angry ankle again for a while before moving on.
That night, they slept soundly in dense shrubbery and followed Will’s patrol route on Wednesday, keeping below the ridgeline of the hills, where he knew from experience that they could elude watchers. He thought they must be two days behind de Raite and the others by then.
“You should go on ahead of me now, Dae,” he said. “I’ve slowed you down for days and can make it from here easily, so—”
“Nae, then,” Dae interjected, wide-eyed. “I’d no be able tae sleep nights did I let aught happen tae ye after ye saved me life as ye did. ’Twere bad enough that ye had tae do that, though I did warn ye that I’m nae good wi’ a sword.”
“Blethers,” Will said. “You fought as hard as anyone and have naught for which to apologize. I helped at the last only because I wanted us to get away.”
Dae shook his head. “I’m nae warrior,” he said. “Never could be. I like visiting Raitt, but I didna expect tae end up in any battle, let alone agin such a warrior as yon Mackintosh. I ha’ nae wish tae say aught agin yer da, but …”
When he hesitated, Will said bleakly, “I feel as you do, Dae. De Raite seeks to control all the land that our ancestors held and refuses to see that his hopes are futile, because he will never persuade wiser men like my granduncle Thomas to join his cause. Without them …” He shrugged.
“Aye, and wasna that what I were a-telling m’self, whiles ago?” Dae replied. “I believed he meant only tae talk wi’ clansmen and come tae agreement wi’ them. He never asked me did I want tae fight for him.”
“Nor did he ask me,” Will said. “The others must have known, though. I’m surprised Hew did not warn you.”
“He thinks little o’ me skills as a warrior,” Dae said with a grimace. “Nae more do I think better o’ m’self, though. Sithee, it be rare these days tae find oneself at battle in the Lowlands. In the Borders, aye, for men turn on each other there like tomcats in mating season and most times wi’ less warning. In more peaceful places, like our village nigh St. John’s Town, a man forgets what it be like tae take up arms and fight for his life. I like peace, m’self.”
“Certes, I’d like to see more of it hereabouts,” Will said grimly.
At last, Thursday at midday, he caught sight of Castle Finlagh through the trees ahead and, aware that Katy must suspect where he had gone and know what had happened there, he watched for a view of the pool above it, uneasy about what he might see. To his deep relief and delight, white kerchiefs decked the shrubs.
Having laundered her kerchiefs at the pool on Monday, Katy had walked to the Stone with Argus and Eos each day since then without seeing Will. Failing again Thursday afternoon, she wended her way home by way of the south stream to find Clydia on one knee beside it with her skirts rucked up, filling her pail.
Looking up with a sympathetic smile, Clydia said, “I’ve not seen him either, Kate, or heard anyone mention his name. Da did hear that de Raite returned late Tuesday with some of his men, so yesterday he sent more of ours than usual to the ridge. If Will tried to return through our mountains instead, he may have seen our men and changed his mind. Forbye, if he took part in that attack, he likely fears that you will no longer welcome him here.”
Again, Katy nearly told her that she and Will had married by declaration, so she could hope he had not taken part in the raid, but honesty banished the thought. If his father ordered him to fight, Will would have obeyed him.
She remembered something else, too.
“He told me they were going to confer with allies in Glen Mòr, Clydie, so I think de Raite lied to him, for I am as certain as I can be that when Will said he would have to be away for a time, he did not expect to be going into battle. Had he so much as suspected it, he would not ha
ve been so casual about leaving.”
Especially since I had just declared us married, she added to herself. Even if he didn’t believe me!
“Then he is simply not home yet,” Clydia said. Straightening with the full pail, she shot a shrewd glance at Katy and added, “Do not fear for him until you have cause, Kate. Recall how long it took our Àdham to get home after Inverlochy.”
“Aye, but Inverlochy is much farther from here than Moigh even if de Raite went by the longest route, and—”
“Nae, then,” Clydia interjected. “Do not borrow trouble, Kate. It usually comes quick enough on its own. Help me carry this pail.”
“Aye, sure,” Katy said, suppressing a sigh. Carrying the heavy pail between them, they went back to the castle to water Clydia’s garden. When they had finished, Clydia gathered her tools and put them away in a nearby shed.
Katy saw Bridgett across the courtyard, talking with Lochan. Just then, Bridgett threw her hands in the air, turned, and strode into the castle through the kitchen door, slamming it shut behind her so hard that the sound echoed in the yard.
Looking again at Lochan, Katy saw the big man, arms akimbo, staring at that door. One blond eyebrow quirked up, but his lips were pressed tightly together.
Emerging from the shed, Clydia said, “What was that noise?”
“Bridgett slamming the kitchen door. She is irked with Lochan.”
Clydia grinned. “Then I expect she told him so. He does look a bit stunned.”
“She has likely been as worried about him as I am about Will,” Katy said quietly. “Remember what she said after the cèilidh?”
Clydia blinked. “I do. She was afraid he might die before she could tell him that she had not meant everything that she had said to him that night. She did have time before they all left, though, to say whatever she wanted to say to him.”
“Aye, perhaps,” Katy agreed. “One often feels, though, as if one has lots of time ahead to speak. Even Bridgett, who prides herself on speaking her mind, might have hesitated to tell Lochan she worried about his safety.”
Clydia nodded thoughtfully. “I love our cousin Àdham dearly, but I admit that I would hesitate to tell him such a thing. Men can be touchy about a woman’s concern. ’Tis as if they fear we don’t trust their skills.”
“I think they fear that such words could linger in their minds and undermine their ability to protect themselves,” Katy said.
“That sounds wise,” Clydia said. “Art sure you are still my twin, who rarely thinks such thoughts about herself, let alone about others?”
With Will’s image prominent again in her mind’s eye, Katy said solemnly, “I am learning, Clydie. I remember Mam saying once when Da was away, years ago, that ’tis hard not to worry and harder still not to let them know that you do. I had not thought about it since that day, but when you said men could be touchy, it jumped right into my head again.”
“Then I expect you mean to go to the Stone again tomorrow,” Clydia said.
“Aye, tomorrow and the day after and the day after that, if I must.”
Chapter 15
Will and Dae barely stayed awake long enough Thursday night to eat supper and were asleep before de Raite and the others returned from Nairn. When Will awoke Friday morning all alone in the attic, he knew that Dae and the others who shared it had left him to sleep and was grateful.
Despite his attempt to dismiss Alyssa’s belief that Katy had worried as much about his safety as she had, he could not let it go. Katy filled his first thoughts just as she had filled his dreams for days. He looked forward to meeting her again as soon as possible to let her see for herself that he was safe.
His head no longer hurt unless he touched a spot that had made solid contact with a rock. His ankle was another matter. It still ached, but when he stood it seemed able to bear his weight.
Bending to pick up his pallet and add it to the stack against the nearby wall, he ignored the makeshift crutch. He could walk without it, although that might become less bearable if he took his usual route. He could get to the Stone, though, if he could think of a way to justify leaving Raitt without doing his patrol.
Finding Dae alone at the high table, Will realized that the hour was later than he had thought.
His cousin eyed him with a grin. “I thought ye might sleep all day. I could have, and I didna ha’ tae bear wi’ your injuries.”
“Is de Raite here?” Will asked.
“Yonder in his chamber, but the man’s mean as a badger wi’ sore feet today. When Alyssa and her woman come doonstairs earlier, he told Aly tae get herself back up tae her chamber and told Meggie tae take all her meals up tae her. Said he were in nae frame o’ mind tae stomach females at his table today. I were thinkin’ it might be a kindness for me tae marry that lass and tak’ her home wi’ me.”
“Do it,” Will said tersely. “I’d give you my permission, not that it will matter if de Raite refuses. I doubt that he would, though.”
“But he would, aye,” Dae said. “Thinks o’ her as part o’ his chattel, he does. Forbye, the lass doesna see me for nowt, and I’m none so certain o’ me own dad. He’s been after me tae wed a townswoman, which be one reason I came tae Raitt.”
Nodding thanks to the lad who hurried in with a platter of beef, a bowl of boiled eggs, and a basket of hot rolls, Will took an egg and cracked it on the table.
“D’ye want mustard, sir?”
“Aye,” Will said as he peeled the egg. Then, to Dae as the gillie trotted back toward the screens passage and kitchen, he said, “Where are Hew and the others?”
“De Raite sent them intae them east woods tae gather wood and bring home meat. Said that though they hadna done much tae aid him at Loch Moigh, mayhap they could find game such as rabbits, quail, or pheasant, for supper tonight.”
“Ouch,” Will said, glancing toward the inner-chamber door to be sure it was shut. “It sounds as if the man fails to recall that he ordered them to stay with him, in safety, to oversee the battle.”
“Aye, his memory has always seemed tae be more convenient for him than for truth,” Dae said. “I’m thinking o’ takin’ m’self off, afore the lion emerges from his lair. Ye’d be wise tae do the same, nae?”
“That is good advice,” Will said. “I may head over the north slope of our ridge and down into the woods on the other side.”
“D’ye want company?”
“Nae, I’ll just find a place in the woods, sit for a spell, and enjoy the solitude. I’m still too achy and tired to put up with everyone here, or to walk far. So, if de Raite expected me to walk the ridge today, he’ll be disappointed.”
“Aye, he will, for I willna do it either. Me feet still hurt, and he didna say nowt about the ridge. Come tae that, he didna say nowt tae me o’ nowt. So, if ye dinna want me, I’ll take me bow and seek game in yon woods south o’ here.”
Will wished him good luck and decided that the sooner he, too, was gone the less chance there would be of a clash with de Raite. On the thought, he put a roll and a second egg in a small cloth sack to tuck under his belt, rolled up two slices of beef, added a bit of mustard when the lad came pelting back down the hall with a wee pot of the stuff, and minutes later, was outside the wall.
Pondering as he chewed his meat, he decided that for once the Fates had been kind. With his brothers in the east woods, his best and safest course was to head northwest, which was exactly the way he wanted to go.
Heading over the lowest part of the ridge to the main road, taking his time to ease strain on his ankle, he followed it to its intersection with the path to Finlagh. A glance at the sun then told him it was nearing midafternoon.
Will quickened his pace.
Hearing someone coming through the woods from the northeast and doubting that Will would announce his presence so noticeably, Katy hastily scattered the small cairn she had been leaving
each day by the Stone and quietly stepped behind it. She had left Rory and the dogs far enough away that the boy would not overhear anything she and Will said if Will did come, but near enough for Rory and the dogs to hear her shout.
The boy had promised that he would stay put, and she was sure he would. He had told her himself that he knew Will was a man who kept his word.
Cautiously peeping through branches, and despite the dense woodland, she could see enough of the approaching figure to feel reassured. She waited, though, until he stepped into sight and she saw that he was limping.
Rushed from behind the Stone to cast herself into his arms, she sighed with relief when they closed warmly around her.
“I am glad to see you, too,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “Look at me, lass. I want a proper kiss.”
She looked up then, meaning to ask how he had gotten hurt, but his lips found hers before she could, and his arms tightened around her.
Responding with eager willingness, she dismissed the rest of the world and enjoyed his kisses and caresses, hugging him, and reveling in his presence. When he moved to spread his plaid on the ground near the Stone again, she helped and immediately noted his injury again. “Why are you limping?”
“I was clumsy, turned my ankle,” he replied, moving gingerly to sit on the plaid and patting the place beside him. “It can happen to anyone.”
As she nestled in beside him, she said curiously, “Do you mean to say that you did not take part in the battle at Loch Moigh?”
“Nae, lass, for I did.”
“Then, why did you not warn me that the Comyns meant to attack there?” she asked reasonably. “The Mackintosh is our liege lord, after all.”
“But I had nae ken of that plan when I saw you. By my troth, lass, de Raite said naught of his scheme to me or to anyone who might have warned me until shortly before the attack. I did begin to suspect some such plan, but—”
“Would you have warned us if you had known?”