Highland Destiny

by Hannah Howell

  “I would ne’er have hanged her. Nay, not e’en if she had proven to be guilty,” Balfour said quietly. “Maldie should have kenned that.”

  “After the way ye have behaved these last few days, I think the lass felt that she didnae ken ye at all.” Nigel looked at James when the man stepped over to them. “Did Jennie finally find her tongue?”

  “Aye,” James replied. “It seems that Maldie feigned some woman’s illness and sent for the lass. Then, when Jennie came in to tend to her, Maldie hit her. The poor maid recalls naught after that.”

  “What about Duncan, that fool of a guard I set outside of the door?” Balfour asked, briefly looking around for the man only to find that Duncan had slipped away the moment James had finished speaking with him.

  “He says he let Jennie in and thought he had let Jennie out.” James shook his head and laughed softly. “The poor mon was so afeared that one of the lasses would say too much about a woman’s ailment that he didnae pay much heed. Once pressed he realized that Jennie wasnae wearing a cloak when she went in, but she was when she came out. Maldie was a clever lass. Ere Duncan had a moment to look closely at her, she spoke of needing things for a woman’s bleeding time. He didnae let her say much but nearly pushed her down the hall.”

  Balfour stared at Nigel and James, aghast when the two men laughed. They seemed uncaring or unaware of the consequences of Maldie’s escape. If she was guilty of all he had accused her of, and he prayed he was wrong, she was headed straight for Dubhlinn to tell Beaton the wealth of information she had gathered. If she was innocent, she was out there roaming the countryside, alone and with little or no provisions. Neither circumstance was something to laugh about.

  “I am pleased that ye can find enjoyment in Maldie’s cleverness, but have ye thought of what happens now?” he finally demanded.

  “We search for her or we leave her be,” James replied.

  “If she is the spy we feared she was, she is running for Dubhlinn to fill Beaton’s ears with who kens how many of our secrets.” He nodded when James grimaced.

  “She is no spy,” Nigel snapped.

  “She came from nowhere, she told us nothing, and she was verra interested in our fight with Beaton. Too interested,” Balfour said.

  “Aye, laddie,” James agreed. “She left too many questions unanswered.”

  “Mayhap the answers werenae any of our business,” Nigel said. “She is a bastard and her mother was obviously a whore. That is not a life one wishes to talk about.”

  “I ken it,” Balfour said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasnae asking for every sordid detail. All I wished was some tiny bit of information that I could have one of my men go and affirm. Some little thing that would prove she was what she said she was, who she said she was.”

  “And if she was who she said she was and so was her mother, what do ye think the people in her village would say about her? Do ye think they would just say aye, she lived here and it sounds as if ye hold the Maldie we kenned? Nay, if her mother was what she said she was, those people would have talked our mon’s ear off, filling it with poisonous gossip and righteous indignation over the low morals of some people. Ye ken what village people can be like. Mayhap she just didnae want us to ken the whole ugly truth, or hear the vicious lies that would be told.”

  Balfour sighed and nodded. “I had wondered on that, but such proof was needed. Do ye really think I wanted to lock her up? Aye, or really wanted her to be one of Beaton’s minions working to destroy us? ’Tis the verra last thing I wished, yet I had to consider it. The last time we stood against Beaton we lost good men to his trickery. I couldnae afford to ignore this, to just hope that I was right to trust her.”

  “Ye are blinded by your debt to her,” James said gently.

  “A debt ye should share. ’Tis nay only my life she saved either. A few of the men she tended to could easily have died from their wounds or, as we now ken, from Grizel’s murderous attentions. She heals people,” Nigel stressed. “She oftimes worked until she was exhausted to help people o’ercome their wounds or illnesses. How could ye think that she could show such compassion if she was working for Beaton?”

  “There is no gain to be made in discussing this any further,” Balfour said. “We will ne’er agree. Howbeit, innocent or not, the lass is out there in the dark alone and without any provisions.”

  “Are ye sure she has no provisions?”

  “Aye, for she had no opportunity to gather any and I dinnae think she would have risked staying here long enough to grab some once she got out of this room.”

  “Which means that she is already far away, so why bother trying to catch her?”

  “Because until I have proof that she is not working for Beaton, I cannae let her run about free with all she kens about us and Donncoill. If she takes such information to Beaton, we will not only lose the battle to free Eric, but we could lose our lands as weel. Until this is all over and Eric is safely home, I must ken where Maldie is and that she is securely locked away, deprived of any chance to tell that bastard anything.”

  “Weel, we cannae begin the search for her now,” James said when Nigel fell into a sullen silence. “We must wait until full light before we hie after the lass.”

  “Just promise me that ye willnae hurt her,” Nigel asked, looking from James to Balfour and back ayain.

  “I would ne’er hurt Maldie,” Balfour swore. “And whate’er men join in the hunt for her, they will be told that she isnae to be hurt, not e’en bruised.”

  “Weel, then, go run after her and drag her back here, but ye will pardon me my smugness when she proves to be innocent and ye prove to be a fool.”

  Balfour leaned against the parapet and stared at the sky, impatiently waiting for the sun to rise. He had not slept and had had very little to eat. His emotions were too fiercely confused for him to rest. He was terrified that Beaton would soon know enough to totally defeat them, and that Maldie was out there wandering the land with no food, no water, no blanket, and no protection. Even now he could not make up his mind if she was guilty or innocent.

  What troubled him most was that, even if he found her and brought her back to Donncoill, he could never hold her again. If she was innocent, he had shown her that he could not trust her, and that would surely kill any feeling she had for him. Maldie was a very proud woman and he had treated her as if she was the lowest sort of traitor, implying that she was little more than a whore using her body to pry secrets out of the enemy. If she was guilty, he could never trust her again, could not allow her to stay near enough to him to sway him again.

  “Laddie, ye shall wear that wee brain out if ye continue to spend all your hours thinking o’er things that have no answer,” James said as he moved up next to Balfour, yawned, and scratched his stomach. “Ye havenae slept at all, have ye?”

  “Nay. I paced the floor and stared at the walls of my bedchamber. Now I stare at the sky and curse the sun for being such a slow-moving fellow.”

  James laughed and shook his head. “Ye should have rested, for we may have us a verra long day.”

  “Weel, aye, there is a lot of land to search and Maldie is a wee lass. She may not be so easy to find.”

  “There is that. There is also the fact that we may have to rush to battle.”

  “Why should we?”

  “Why? Ye clearly havenae been spending all night thinking thoughts to help your clan or save your brother.” James reached out and patted Balfour on the arm when the man flushed guiltily. “Nay, dinnae take that as a rebuke. I understand how such a bonnie lass can consume a mon’s thoughts.”

  “Aye, she did, although I doubt I can recall half of what I thought or if it would make sense if I did, for I am verra confused. Did she flee because she is guilty or because she is furious? Is she running to Beaton or to somewhere else, to those kinsmen she ne’er told us about? Is she the worst sort of whore whom I must toss aside, or will she toss me aside because I have so gravely insulted her it cannae be forgiven? Question
after question and no way to answer them, for I dinnae have the most important answer of all—is she working for Beaton?”

  “And that is the most important question of all at this moment. There is no way of kenning the truth, but we can no longer wait until we have it. Aye, let us see if we can catch her, but nay for long. And, e’en as we hunt our men should be preparing to march upon Dubhlinn.”

  “Nigel isnae ready to go to battle.”

  “He can drag his pretty arse up onto a horse and be at your side to offer his advice. He shouldnae go at all, but I have allowed him that much for he willnae stay here as he should unless we tie him to his bed. Think, laddie. If that wee lass is a Beaton, she will soon be telling our enemy all of our plans. We must march against him by first light tomorrow if we are to have any hope of catching him by surprise. I would prefer to march ere the sun rises today, but I am nay sure we can be ready so soon.”

  Balfour slumped against the wall. James was right. They had no more time to plot or ready themselves. If they did not act quickly, they would have to start all over again. By the end of this day, if Maldie was one of Beaton’s spies, the man would know all about them and almost all about their battle plan. He had already told her more than he should have before he had begun to have doubts about her. Then he frowned, and an idea began to form in his tired mind.

  “Nay, we will not march on Beaton yet.”

  James gaped at him. “I ken that ye dinnae want the lass to be guilty of what we have accused her of, but ye must at least consider the possibility that she is. If we wait, Beaton will have time to act upon what she will tell him. He will ken all we have said and he will slaughter us.”

  “He nearly slaughtered us last time because we tried to throw ourselves against his cursed walls. E’en if he hasnae done all he must, he will certainly close his gates and have his men ready to greet us. Trying to breach those walls will kill us all, or at least cull our numbers so badly that he can then come and take Donncoill.”

  “Weel, aye, mayhap.” James grimaced and rubbed a hand over his graying hair. “What choice do we have?”

  “We wait and we make a new plan. And I think I already have a good one. I may be verra tired, but it seems like a clever idea. There is one thing Maldie told me—”

  “Ye cannae trust what she said, or, rather, ye shouldnae trust in it too much.”

  “I ken it, but she didnae tell me this in the way that she told us other things about Dubhlinn. This slipped out as she told me another tale, something humorous that had happened to her on a market day at Dubhlinn. I really dinnae believe she was saying it to trick me into anything. ’Twas just talk. Market day at Dubhlinn is three days from now.”

  “And how will that help us?”

  “By simply waiting three days, we will already have unsettled Beaton. He will expect us to act immediately when Maldie tells him of how we had suspected her. When we dinnae come racing to his gates he will wonder if what she said was true, or if she even understood what she had heard. Beaton has ne’er had much faith in the wit of women. A market day brings a lot of people to a town, a lot of strangers,” he added, nodding when James’s eyes slowly widened.

  James cursed softly and paced the wall for a moment, muttering to himself and rubbing his chin as he thought. “We could slip a lot of men into Dubhlinn, at least into the town and the surrounding area, without Beaton suspecting anything.”

  “So, ye think it is worth a second look? That there is a plan to be made there?”

  “Oh, aye. It may e’en be a better one than we had. Now, let us go and find that lass if we can. This new idea of yours would work e’en better if she hasnae gotten to Dubhlinn to warn Beaton that we plan an attack. Aye, much better indeed if he isnae alert and watching for us.”

  “Did ye find her?” Nigel demanded, sitting up in bed as Balfour entered his room.

  “We saw her,” Balfour replied as he poured himself a large tankard of hearty wine and took a deep drink.

  “What do ye mean—ye saw her?”

  “Just that. We saw her—running straight for Dubhlinn.”

  “Nay.” Nigel vigorously shook his head. “Nay, I willnae believe it.”

  “Do ye think I want to believe it?” Balfour snapped, then took another drink to try and calm the emotions raging inside of him.

  “Ye already did or ye wouldnae have locked her up.”

  Balfour sighed and shook his head as he sat on the edge of Nigel’s bed. “I dinnae ken if it is because ye dinnae listen or ye dinnae want to, but I did what I had to. Somehow Beaton was discovering our little secrets, and since Grizel was no longer able to tell him anything, it had to be someone else. Maldie was the only other one it could be, or, at least, there was a verra strong possibility that it was her. I simply couldnae risk trusting her, no matter how dearly I wished to. Yet, in my heart I prayed that I would be proven wrong. It gives me no pleasure at all to be proven right.”

  “Nay, she wouldnae take Beaton’s side.”

  “Nigel, she ran straight for Dubhlinn. Three men saw her. More men than that found her tracks leading that way. She left here and walked directly to Dubhlinn. What else can it mean?”

  “I dinnae ken,” Nigel snapped. “I just cannae feel that she would e’er have anything to do with a mon like Beaton. There is too much kindness in her.”

  “So I thought.”

  “There could be an explanation. Aye, it does look as if she is helping Beaton, but we dinnae ken how much and we certainly dinnae ken why. Until I have learned all the reasons, I cannae believe, nay, I refuse to believe that the woman who healed me was nay more than a traitorous whore.”

  It made Balfour wince just to hear the words, even though he had thought them when his men had returned and told him what they had seen. That had been three hours ago. It had taken him that long to calm down enough to come and tell Nigel the bad news. He had not expected Nigel to be so adamant in his refusal to believe it. What made it all the more difficult to listen to him was that he desperately wanted to believe Nigel was right.

  “I am eager to feel as ye do, brother, but I dinnae think it would be wise. It is hard enough to think that I have been made a complete fool of. I refuse to hold on to any hope so that she can make me look an even greater fool.”

  “She cared for you, Balfour. I am sure of it.”

  “Nay.” Balfour jumped to his feet and began to pace the room.

  The nearly crippling pain he had felt when his men had told him what they had seen was still there, tearing at his heart like some carrion bird. He knew that, if he allowed it to, this betrayal could destroy him. He did not want to talk about her, did not want to discuss any possibility that she may yet prove innocent even in some small way. He did not want to even think about Maldie, although he suspected that could prove to be impossible. There was a part of him that hated her, hated her for making a fool of him, hated her for betraying him, but especially hated her for making him love her. He still loved her, and he wanted to bury that feeling so deep that it would never be able to rear its head and blind him again.

  “I would prefer to talk about the coming battle,” he finally said.

  “Ye are still going to battle? Hold,” he held up his hand when Balfour began to speak. “Now, I dinnae want to believe the lass is working against us, but this news has at least made me see the wisdom of your argument. One has to consider the possibility. If she is with Beaton, she is telling him all of your plans at this verra moment. If ye ride out to battle ye will be slaughtered, for he will ken your every move and be ready for you.”

  “He will be ready for what I had planned to do, but nay for what I am now planning to do.”

  “There is a new plan?”

  “Aye, and e’en James thinks it has an excellent chance of success.”

  “Do I have a few more days to gather my strength and ride with you?”

  “Three. Weel, we will ride out on the morning of the third day, today being the first of the three.” Balfour smiled fai
ntly, able to be pleased with his plan despite the pain he was in. “We are going to market, Nigel.”

  It took Balfour over an hour to explain it all to Nigel, but his brother’s enthusiasm for the plan had been uplifting. He felt more confident of victory as he made his way to the great hall. The only dark cloud on his horizon was that Maldie was somewhere inside of Dubhlinn. Balfour prayed he did not find her on the day of the battle. It would be best for all of them if she fled and never returned to the area.

  “Nigel didnae want to believe it,” said James as Balfour sat down next to him and helped himself to some food.

  “Nay. Does that surprise you?” Balfour asked.

  “Not as much as it should.” He shook his head. “I had hoped that he would see reason now. He has been most unforgiving about how ye treated the girl.”

  “Oh, he is more understanding of that, does in truth see the need to be cautious now, that one cannae always rely only on what one feels. Now all he prays for is that there is a good reason for what she has done, one that will allow him to forgive her.”

  “Is that what ye hope for?”

  “I dinnae ken. Mayhap. At the moment I am trying verra hard not to think of the lass at all. Thoughts of her only rouse my fury and remind me that she has played me for the greatest of fools.”

  “Then I will say only one last thing about her. Try to calm that fury ere we go to battle. There is a chance ye will see her at Dubhlinn, and it would be unwise to act with heedless anger. Not only will ye then be distracted from the battle, which could prove fatal, but ye may do something ye will later regret.”

  “Are ye also about to tell me that there may be a good reason for what she has done?”

  “There could be. Aye, she ran to Dubhlinn, but we dinnae yet ken exactly why she did that. I but wish ye to nay leap to judgment. If ye allow yourself to think that there may be some reason, some opportunity for forgiveness, then ye willnae go into a rage if ye see her at Dubhlinn.”