My Highland Rebel

by Amanda Forester

  “By the saints, lass, I do hope that’s a promise!”

  They rounded up the children and several of the matrons, along with baskets of provisions to tide them over until, hopefully, a rescue could be mounted. Alasdair Ranald came on his skinny legs to wish them Godspeed.

  Core snuck ahead to ensure that their path was clear. The inner courtyard was empty, and he motioned for everyone to follow him. He hoped to get the children out of the keep without notice, for hostages were not often let go, due to their occasional usefulness. Besides, getting caught in front of Jyne would lead to conversations that would most certainly reveal him.

  He peeked out of the main door to the outer ward. It was mostly empty, but gate guards were still at their posts.

  “How are we going to get past?” asked Jyne in a low voice. She had walked up beside him and was standing so close, he had to force himself to focus on the meaning of her words instead of the overpowering desire to kiss her once more.

  He shook his head, trying to devise a plan. The gates were open, since most of the keep was on the other side of the valley. Getting out was not a problem. Getting out without being seen was another thing altogether.

  “They seem interested in something,” noted Jyne.

  Cormac noticed it too. While the gate guards had not abandoned their post, they were staring out toward the far end of the valley. No doubt they had heard word of the treasure, and though they remained on duty, their attention was fixed several miles away.

  He smiled at Jyne. “If we can be verra quiet, I have a plan.”

  A few minutes later, they were quietly edging their way out the main gate, hugging the wall of Kinoch Abbey literally under the noses of the guards. As long as the children remained quiet and the guards remained focused on the other side of the valley, they could pass unseen. Core’s heart pounded, for it was not just a matter of staying quiet himself; he had to depend on over a dozen bairns to keep quiet as well. Jyne had been clever, though, and turned it into a game to see who could be the quietest.

  Slowly, cautiously, they slid along the wall. Core was accustomed to being quiet, but the children and matrons were not. Several times, a scrape or rustle sounded like a ringing gong in his ears, and he feared the guards would look down. The wind was brisk, however, and provided some background noise to cover their exit. They were almost out of sight when one of the children tripped and fell with a splat. There was no way the guards could not have heard that.

  In an instant, Core threw hard a rock he had been carrying, far and fast. It bounced off several boulders on the other side of the guards, drawing their attention. Jyne rushed over and picked up the tot before he could cry. Core motioned for everyone to run, and they scampered up the hill on the side of the abbey. Once they were on the far side and out of sight of Kinoch, Core breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Ye did it!” Jyne set down the child and placed a hand on her chest, breathing deeply.

  “We did it,” he returned with a smile.

  They quickly climbed a wooded hill out of the valley to some wild fields beyond. Once they were out of sight of the abbey, Core began to enjoy himself. He walked beside Jyne on a narrow path through the swaying purple heather. The mist had finally dissipated, leaving a sunny day in the Highlands. The sky was a bright blue, but it was nothing compared to the fire he saw in Jyne’s eyes.

  The children, having been admonished every minute of every day since the keep was taken to remain still and silent to avoid raising the ire of the brigands, were happy to run about. They screeched and ran ahead or frolicked in the heather. The matrons who cared for them tried to run after them, calling out admonishments that went largely unheeded.

  One child, however, seemed to be permanently attached to Jyne’s skirts. Jyne introduced the child to Core. “This is Ina.”

  “Hello, Ina,” said Core. He had always interacted with adults and felt awkward around children. He was not sure how to talk to little people, though he could see that her small legs were not well equipped for the journey. “Would ye care for a ride, Miss Ina?”

  The child peeked at him with wide eyes from behind Jyne’s skirts. She looked up at Jyne, then toddled toward him with both arms upraised. He picked up the tot, and she clasped her arms around him and snuggled her head against his neck. He was surprised, and his face must have shown it, for Jyne laughed out loud.

  “Ye’re no’ accustomed to wee bairns, are ye?”

  “Nay. Am I doing it wrong?”

  “Ye’re doing verra well indeed. I hope you like yer new friend, for she winna let ye go easily.” Jyne smiled, and that made the effort worth it, though in truth, he did not mind the snuggling tot. The day was a fine one, giving him hope. He was very glad to have the young ones removed from Kinoch, for now he had one less thing to worry about protecting.

  “Do tell me more about yerself,” said Jyne, plucking a strand of heather and running her hand along the tops of bushes. “I hardly ken much o’ ye, except that ye roam the moors, looking for people to rescue.”

  “Ye’re correct, m’lady. My sad job is to roam and assist as I may be needed.”

  This drew another smile from Jyne. “And I can ne’er tell ye how grateful I am to ye. But what o’ yer clan? What were ye doing out in the moors?”

  Core was ready for this question. He knew she would eventually ask about his history and had a ready answer. “I was on my way to a position with the Steward of Scotland. I was to work as a translator and scribe.” It was the life Core wanted.

  “That sounds fascinating. What clan do ye hail from? They must be verra proud.”

  Core gave her a tight smile. He thought it would be easier to lie to her. Instead, he had a growing tightness around his chest. “I am from the clan…” He had a story ready. It was a good one too. He was the son of a wealthy merchant and was an honorable man, but when he looked into Jyne’s beautiful, trusting eyes, he found he could not continue. She was more than just a bonnie lass; she was a lady he respected, a lady he liked a little too much for his own good.

  “What is wrong?” asked Jyne, confused by his silence.

  “Och, what’s wrong is I’m a base creature that doesna deserve to speak to ye.”

  “Whatever do ye mean?” A little crease formed on her forehead.

  “I have studied, and I do wish to be a scribe, but I have no position.”

  “’Tis naught to be ashamed of. Many a young man needs to find his footing before making his way in the world. I warrant the Steward would be happy to hire ye.”

  “Nay.” Cormac sighed. “None will ever hire me. No’ wi’ my family connections.” Core shook his head. The Laird MacLean had banished Red Rex and all his descendants forevermore from the clan. Core had been about six years old when his clan had forever rejected him.

  “But that is unfair! Why punish ye for yer clan?”

  “Not my clan, my father to be exact. He has, I fear, embraced a sinful path. Ye asked for my clan, but unfortunately, I have none to tell ye, for my father and all his kin were banished.” Core had not wished to see her face when he made his confession. Now he stole a look and was relieved to see something of compassion in her eyes. It gave him reason to hope.

  “So ye see,” he continued, “ye find me in between clans at the moment.”

  Jyne said nothing but reached out and briefly touched his shoulder as they continued to walk on the dirt path through the heather. It was more compassion than he had expected. It was more compassion than he deserved.

  “I’m sure when my brother, Laird Campbell, hears what ye’ve done to protect me and the vulnerable ones, he will offer ye the opportunity to swear yer allegiance and become a member of clan Campbell.” Jyne spoke with confidence.

  He stifled a sigh, because he knew how wrong she was.

  They walked a little farther before Jyne asked one more question. “Will ye no’ tell me who yer
father is?”

  “Would it matter to ye what his name might be?” he hedged.

  “Nay. I shall no’ judge ye for the sins of another.”

  “If only the world felt as ye do,” Cormac said with a sigh. “And yet, if ye met my father, ye would no’ think so highly of me.”

  “Ye winna trust me wi’ the name o’ yer sire?” she asked softly.

  “Ye’d think less o’ me.”

  “Nay, I would’na,” she insisted.

  “If it truly matters to ye not, then I ask that ye give me leave no’ to tell ye.”

  Jyne frowned, but shrugged her shoulders. “As ye wish, but I hope someday ye will trust me wi’ yer name.”

  “Here we are. The abandoned huts I found are just over this rise,” Core said, changing the subject. He wanted to tell her, wanted to be honest with her. He wanted to believe she would understand. But he knew better. She would hate him, and he could not bear the thought.

  They had come upon three short huts, half built into the ground. They were modest dwellings at best, but it was a safer place for children than a keep inhabited by murderers and thieves.

  “Come now, children, let us prepare these lovely new homes for ye.” Jyne marched off and quickly and efficiently organized the children and matrons into groups for each hut, managing sleeping arrangements and dividing food stores appropriately. Core returned his new little friend to the ground. She patted him on the cheek before she let go and then ran off to join the others.

  A commotion down the road caught his attention. A lady was riding hard in their direction, with a man in close pursuit.

  “Everyone stay inside,” commanded Jyne, noting the riders coming toward them fast. “What is that?” she asked, coming to stand beside him.

  “I dinna ken…wait…” Recognition flashed through him as the riders drew close enough to make out their faces. “Get in a hut. I’ll deal wi’ this.”

  “Ye are always one to rescue strangers,” said Jyne warmly.

  “Not in this case,” said Core, grabbing his bow and drawing an arrow. “That is my sister.”

  Eighteen

  Sister? Cormac had a sister?

  Despite Jyne’s reassurances that nothing could diminish her positive regard for him, Cormac’s confession that he had an unsavory character for a father planted within her a seed of doubt. What sort of man could be so terrible his mere existence would cause Cormac to feel he could never find work as a scribe? He was obviously well-educated, and thus, must have come from some family of means.

  Truth was, she did not know much about Cormac…except that he had certainly gone out of his way to render assistance to her. Without him, she might still be stuck in a bog. With the appearance of a sister, Jyne felt sure she could learn more about her enigmatic helper.

  “Get back!” commanded Cormac, motioning for her to hide in one of the huts with the children. She stepped back, but would not hide the way she might have done even a few days ago. No, she was learning to hold her ground.

  Cormac ran out to the dirt road and nocked an arrow. He stood to the side and allowed the lady to pass, then blocked the narrow road and drew on the approaching man. “Stay back, or I will let fly!”

  Jyne’s heart swelled as she watched Cormac in action. Truth was, she did not care who he was or where he was from. She knew in her heart he was a good man. He was the man for her.

  The man slowed but did not stop. “Stand aside, or I’ll run ye down!”

  “I said stop!” commanded Core.

  “And I said move aside, ye whelp! Who do ye think ye be, giving orders to me!” The man spurred his charger as if he was going to run Core down.

  Quick as lightning, Core let loose an arrow that flew with precision, taking off the man’s cap in flight.

  “Whaaa?” The man pulled up hard on the reins and felt his bare head where his tam used to be.

  Core nocked another arrow and drew back on his bow. “Next one goes between yer eyes.”

  “Hold up there. Hold up.” The man came to a stop before Cormac. “Ye needn’t be that way about it. I was just doing what I was told, is all.”

  “Ye were trying to take me to hell!” yelled Cormac’s sister on horseback, who had circled around and was now standing behind her brother. She was a beauty of a girl, with smooth, pale skin and flashing eyes. She looked to be in her late teens and had a wild appearance, with bright red hair flowing free. Jyne assumed she must have lost her veil and hairpins in flight.

  “I was taking ye to yer future husband,” roared the man.

  “I’ll not go! I’ll ne’er wed that bastard!” shouted the fiery-haired lady.

  “Not for me to say, is it?” the man appealed to Cormac. “Yer father arranged the marriage.”

  “Ye mean my father sold me to the highest bidder!” shouted Cormac’s sister. “How much in gold was I worth, eh?”

  “It wasna my doing. I canna say I like the man either, but it’s no’ my concern. I’m just doing as I’m told, I am,” complained the man.

  “I understand,” Cormac said, lowering his bow. “Ye’ve done yer best, but I’ll take it from here.”

  The man scratched his bald head. “But I was told to take her to her husband. The gold arrived yesterday. She’s supposed to be his now.”

  “I ken what needs to be done,” said Cormac softly.

  “But what will I tell yer father?” asked the man.

  “Tell him to take himself to hell!” screamed Core’s sister.

  “I canna say that,” objected the man with true fear in his eyes.

  “Tell him I met ye on the road and will take care of what needs to be done,” said Cormac. “And ye might wish to take yer time in going back. Here’s a coin for ye. If ye keep going down this road, in a few days’ time, ye’ll come to a tournament. Ye’ll no doubt find many amusements.” Core walked to where the man’s tam was pinned to the ground by the arrow and gave it back.

  “Well now,” said the man, staring at the coin and his cap in his hands. “Well now,” he repeated and put on his cap. “That sounds verra good. That’s right nice o’ ye, Cormac. I dinna care what they say about ye, I think ye’re all right, always have.” He tipped his hat and continued riding down the road, whistling a tune.

  “Ye’ll no’ take me to that devil man, will ye?” asked the flame-haired lass as Cormac helped her to dismount.

  “Nay,” he sighed.

  “I was trying to find ye. I knew ye’d help,” said his sister.

  “Aye, but ye’ve come at a difficult time.”

  “What kind o’ difficult time? It canna be worse than being forced to marry that craven, boil-brained codpiece. Who is that?”

  “Aye…well…Lady Jyne, please allow me to introduce my sister, Breanna,” said Cormac in a slightly strangled voice.

  “Lady Jyne?” Both of Breanna’s eyebrows went up.

  “Good day,” said Jyne, stepping forward. “Unfortunately, my dower lands and keep have been overtaken by a vicious warlord who calls himself the Fire Lord. Cormac has been helping us considerably.”

  Cormac’s sister tilted her head slightly to one side. “Fire Lord?”

  “He is the son of Red Rex,” explained Jyne.

  Breanna opened her mouth to speak, but Cormac responded first. “Aye, ye’ve had yerself a trying time. Please take a moment to quiet yerself.” He spoke fast, taking his sister by the elbow and leading her away, drowning out whatever she was about to say. He glanced back at Jyne. “I think we should leave, go back to Kinoch. Well, we should get moving. Canna stand around. M’lady, why do ye no’ say yer farewells to the elders and bairns, and I’ll get Breanna settled.”

  “Aye, that is verra considerate o’ ye,” said Jyne. “I am pleased to meet ye, Breanna.”

  Jyne walked back to say her farewells to the matrons and the young ones, giving Ina
a warm hug. Yet all the while, her attention was captured by Cormac and the sudden emergence of a sister. Whatever answers about his past Core was reluctant to share, she hoped Breanna would be more forthcoming. Their father must surely be a dreadful man. She felt sorry for them to have suffered such a sire.

  Jyne attempted to attend to what an elder matron was saying, probably thanking her for seeing to their safety, but she could not help but continue to glance at Core and his sister, who were standing a bit away, having a conversation in fierce whispers. They appeared to be fighting about something. It seemed Cormac wished her to do something, for his was a pleading look, while Breanna frowned and shook her head. Were they disagreeing about where Breanna should go now? Surely, Core would not be trying to persuade his sister to marry a man who would buy her for gold.

  Jyne rushed through her good-byes and attempted to nonchalantly move close enough to hear what the siblings were saying to each other without appearing to be eavesdropping, which of course she was.

  “Please, Breanna, ’tis for the best for us,” Core whispered to his sister.

  “Nay, ’tis the best for ye. I’ll no’ be a party to it,” responded Breanna.

  “I canna help ye if ye dinna help me.”

  “But…” Breanna’s voice lowered, and Jyne could not hear the rest.

  Core answered in a low rumble. Jyne walked to the horse and pretended to be interested in petting the soft nose, while she strained to hear what was said next.

  “But I’ve got nowhere else to go!” said Breanna clearly.

  “Wheesht!” hushed Core, saying something else too softly for Jyne to hear.

  “Fine then, have yer own way,” said Breanna in a disgusted tone.

  “Ah, Lady Jyne, I dinna see ye there,” said Core, looking in her direction and giving her a tense smile. “We should get back to Kinoch Abbey. Why do ye no’ ride? I’m sure my sister would like to walk instead.”

  Breanna made an incensed gasp.

  “Nay, I would’na dream o’ taking yer sister’s horse. We Campbells are a sturdy lot. I can walk back fine.”