Niall drew back his fist and took a half second longer to land the blow. And then Donnell saw his opening like a beacon of light. His adversary had spent too much time expressing his rage and fatigue had finally set in.
Drawing deep within his reserves, Donnell let out a loud grunt and threw his weight quickly over to the right, displacing Niall from his chest. The sudden and unexpected movement took Niall by surprise. He dropped to the ground. And before he could recover, Donnell shifted on top of him.
“Now the tides have turned,” he growled.
He used his fists and raining down ferocious blows, he knocked the unprotected head from one side to the other. He felt no emotion, and the pounding he delivered was methodical and deliberate. He was barely conscious of the noise that the other warriors made. His opponent’s face was a bloody mess. But it wasn’t Niall’s features that Donnell saw; it was Eadwig Gorbidshire’s.
“What the hell is going on here?” a furious voice boomed across the clearing. Alexander Rosstone walked into their midst. “Cease the fighting. Get MacKelon off MacRell.”
Blane yanked him off Niall. Donnell broke away from his grip and brushed the dirt from his great kilt. Slowly his senses returned to him, and the image of Eadwig disappeared. Likely if the commander hadn’t intervened, he would have slain Niall.
At the same time, the younger MacRell pushed himself up from the ground. His father tried to assist him, but Niall shrugged off his hands. There was rage in his face still, and he started to lunge at Donnell. But then the MacRell called his name sharply.
Niall straightened his shirt, adjusting it with a little more force than was necessary. “The bastard stole my ride,” he said, spitting a wad of blood on the ground. He glared at Donnell from one eye. The other eye was swollen shut.
“I didnae steal your ride,” he said. “I borrowed it and...”
“I willnae hear more of this!” Alexander bellowed. His glacial stare zeroed in on the two of them. “I dinnae call this meeting tae have my men assault one another.”
“He started this first,” Donnell said, his face turning hard.
“Dinnae I just call for silence?” Alexander said, the muscle at his jaw ticking. He made a disgusted sound in his throat. “I dinnae have time for this.” He flicked his wrist, gesturing at two men from the crowd. “Griogair and Thom, take MacKelon tae that tree over there and tie him up. I’ll deal with him later.”
The two large Highlanders emerged from the crowd. The presence of these two men would have made a lesser man shudder.
“I was falsely accused and willnae be tied up because of it,” Donnell said, clenching his teeth. He was on the alert and prepared to fight. It wasn’t fair that he was the one who would be confined, but he was only a mercenary. Niall would be left unpunished because he belonged to a powerful clan. Unfortunately Donnell didn’t have a similar backing. Blane was too concerned about his Company to want to infuriate the commander, and he would allow the others to incarcerate Donnell. The only person who would defend him would be himself.
He crouched into a fighting stance. “Dinnae come any closer.”
But the Highlanders ignored his warning to their detriment. Donnell whipped out a fist and skimmed it across Thom’s jaw. The warrior grabbed him, and pinned his arms to the side. Donnell tried to struggle out of the hold. That was when Griogair landed a fist into his stomach, forcing him to double over. In the next instant the large Highlander pushed Donnell to the ground, and trapped his arms behind his back with his knee.
“I need some rope,” he said.
Thom tossed Griogair the rope. “There’s nay need tae crush him tae the ground,” he said, rubbing at the spot where Donnell had struck him.
“If he’d stop squirming, then perhaps I wouldnae have tae use much force.” Griogair pressed his knees harder into Donnell’s spine. “Will ye cease your struggling now?”
“Aye,” Donnell gasped. At this point he had no other choice. His cheek was pressed to the dirt, and there was no way to get out of the hold.
Griogair yanked Donnell up, his arms still trapped behind his back. He pushed him toward the rowan tree that was located a short distance away.
As the two men led him to the site, the commander shouted to the rest of the men at the gathering. “Is there anyone else who wants tae join MacKelon?”
When no one answered, he nodded. “That’s what I thought. Now I suggest that everyone get back tae their seats sae we can get this meeting underway.”
Chapter 5
Alisha’s gaze followed the three men as they walked toward the large rowan tree. Somehow Donnell MacKelon stood out among the fierce-looking warriors who were present. It was clear that he was a prisoner, and he appeared untamed. Since the time she first met him, he fascinated her, but she wasn’t certain why.
After the scrimmage, the excitement dropped, and the men at the gathering settled into their places. The faces that circled the firepit appeared as if they had seen too many battles, yet determination was reflected there as well, a determination that they would protect their homeland at whatever cost.
As the sun went down, the chill in the air became more prominent, and she shivered a bit. Fortunately someone lit a fire, and she felt some of the heat radiating toward her. But even though the fire burned brightly, and the logs crackled in the firepit, she made no attempt to get closer to the warmth. She preferred to be an invisible observer. At the moment the firelight mostly illuminated the people near the front, and the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to her presence.
Everyone seemed on edge although nothing had been spoken aloud. The various clan representatives sat around the fire as the commander addressed the men. Later they would take what information they learned here and spread it to their following.
As the discussion of warfare began, the mood shifted, becoming more grim and menacing. Alisha drew the shawl closer around her head, suddenly feeling the numbing cold. She studied the faces of the hardened leaders that gathered around, knowing full well that these warriors had the responsibility of commanding hundreds of their clansmen. It was unlikely that many of their men would return to their loved ones.
A couple of vicious looking hounds lay next to their masters, their ears perked as if they listened to the talks. They had a tough exterior about them, as if they too had seen too much in their lifetimes.
But just as she witnessed the aggression from earlier, she sensed that these men around her were also restless and itching to battle. Yet after the sermon, the men seemed more settled, and that was when Alexander Rosstone invited Father Cormac to the war council. The commander was convinced that having a man of God at the meeting would influence better behavior from his men.
Alisha wondered whether she really wanted to know what they spoke about at this meeting. Unless she wanted all the attention drawn to her, it was too late to leave now. She inched a little closer to Father Cormac as if he could somehow shield her from the reality. Suddenly she wished that she was a child, and couldn’t understand the concept of warfare. But she was twenty years old, and had lived long enough to know about the harsh realities of life. She understood only too well the massacre that would take place once the English arrived at Bracken Ridge. Her kinsmen had prepared months for this encounter, and the clash between the two sides was inevitable.
As if Father Cormac could hear and understand her thoughts, he reached over and squeezed her hand.
“I shouldnae have allowed ye tae come tae this meeting, lass,” he whispered. There was remorse in his voice. “We should go...”
“I’m all right.” Alisha sent him a tight smile.
He was right, of course. She shouldn’t have come, however Seamus had persuaded Father Cormac that he needed to accompany the cleric.
“I could learn a great deal from watching ye interact with the warriors,” he had said.
She knew her brother too well, and she was certain that he was up to something. But Father Cormac had no children, and she suspected
the prospect of having a disciple living under his own roof likely appealed to him.
“Can I go tae the war council too?” she asked, not wanting to be left behind.
“I dinnae think sae, lass.”
“The topic of war is too brutal for delicate female ears,” her brother said, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed slightly.
“But ye cannae leave me here, Father. I — I’m too scared tae be by myself,” she said, saying the first thing that entered her mind. The old priest was always protective of her and treated her like a daughter.
Father Cormac sighed. “Nay, I cannae leave ye here alone. Come along then.”
Seamus and Alisha followed slightly behind the priest.
“Why do ye insist on going wherever I go?” her brother complained.
“Because someone has tae keep ye out of trouble.”
“I dinnae need your interference. I’ll be seventeen in one month. In case ye are unaware, I’m practically a man.”
Alisha bit her tongue, stopping herself from saying what was on her mind. She knew that anything she said would complicate matters.
Her thoughts came back to the present as she listened to the talks of the clan leaders. As they continued their discussion, she became even more aware that she didn’t belong at the gathering. Unfortunately there was no way that Seamus could be dragged away from the meeting now that he was here.
The commander started to pace, his hands clasped at his back, as if he were trying to decide how he would address the subleaders and chiefs. He had a magnetic, commanding presence that caused all the grim-faced leaders to center their attention on him. There was a reason that he commanded all the men. She doubted that anyone would dare cross him.
Finally, he stopped his pacing. He turned to his audience, and his voice boomed across the small clearing. “The bastard Eadwig Gorbidshire kens where we are.” The shadows played on his face, and she was pretty certain that a muscle twitched at his jaw. He then shook his head and spit on the ground as if the news he just delivered was distasteful to him.
Her brother sat, his back rigid while his eyes remained glued to the high commander.
She elbowed Seamus in the arm. “Who are they talking about?”
He jerked his arm away and gave her a slightly irritated look. “He’s King Harold’s most prized knight and commander,” he said as if she should have already known this fact. “Just stay quiet and listen, will ye?”
Alisha had immersed herself in the town life, and tried her best to ignore the war preparations that occurred a few miles away. She had thought it was better to live in ignorance than to know too much. But then she discovered that not having any information left her scared and uncertain. War could happen at any moment, and she didn’t have any idea about what to do or how to react. More questions entered her mind, but the next words that the commander uttered caused a streak of fear to shoot up her back. She prayed that she misunderstood him, but as he spoke, she became even more conscious of the dire situation.
“As ye can see, the information about our whereabouts was leaked,” he continued, his voice carrying out to the assembly of men. An angry rumble coursed through the group. “The traitor we caught revealed that the English ken where we are situated. Eadwig Gorbidshire will continue tae lead his men through the passage. And they’ll be prepared for us.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“All the months of planning and training was for naught,” a dissatisfied voice rasped near the front of the assembly. “What use is it for us tae stay here if the surprise element of our attack is gone?”
“Aye, aye,” several voices shouted in agreement.
The two hounds got up to their feet, and started barking and throwing their voices into the unhappy mix.
“Sae how do we win the war now?” another person yelled.
“What we need tae do is tae annihilate as many of those bastards as we can, and drive the rest off our land. That’s what we should do,” still another voice shouted.
The man’s words caused more angry comments to surge. Soon there were nods of agreement, and the rumble of discontent began to rise.
The narrow passage through Bracken Ridge was a major trading route, and it was also the fastest way to reach the trading port. If that port was cut off by the enemy then the Scottish economy would take a heavy beating. There were just too many people whose livelihood would be jeopardized. Of course, there were other ways to get to the trading hub, but it involved a long trek through treacherous terrain.
“This is awful,” Seamus hissed beside her. “Donnell warned me that this might happen.”
“Nae him again.” She rolled her eyes skyward. “I told ye tae stay away from people like him. Dinnae ye see how dangerous he is?”
Unable to help it, she looked over in the direction of where the sizable Highlander was imprisoned. He stared intently at the gathering, although he was not close enough to hear what was being discussed. He seemed very aware of this fact, and didn’t appear happy about it. Then as if he sensed her perusal of him, he turned to stare at her. His masculine face was stone cold, and she felt a shiver ripple through her body. He was deadly. His livelihood was to terminate other men. He trained every day to fight in skirmishes, and seeing that he was still alive, he was likely adept at his profession. She shuddered at the thought. He was not the kind of person she wanted to influence her younger brother. Why couldn’t Seamus be content with learning how to farm? Or better yet. Why didn’t he pursue the work of God like Father Cormac?
She turned her attention back to Seamus. “What else did he tell ye?” All instincts warned her not to pose this question, but she did it anyway even though she was a little afraid of what she might find out. Unfortunately she couldn’t turn off the curiosity that was growing within her.
“Bracken Ridge is the best strategic strong point tae launch an ambush,” he explained. “The elevation allows the men tae see miles away without the enemy being aware that they’ve been spotted. But if the enemy kens of our location, they’ll be prepared for our charge. And the advantage that we counted on will be gone.”
And the war would be lost. Seamus didn’t need to say this out loud; she understood the implications. Alisha couldn’t bring herself to question him on how he came to know so much information. It was apparent that she knew too little.
She glanced around at the men who surrounded them. They were obviously not impressed with the news. None of them appeared scared, although their tension and frustration mingled in the air, becoming almost tangible. Unfortunately, she felt the negative weight settle over her shoulders. She gripped her hands together as she looked at Father Cormac to see his response to the revelation. The preacher turned and caught her gaze. Fear was reflected in his depths, a fear that likely echoed her own. All around her unhappy comments shot back and forth.
“Cease your talking!” a subcommander shouted as he got up from his seat and turned to glare at the men. “We’ll hear Rosstone’s decision.” When their discontented grumble dwindled, he took his seat again.
The high commander looked grimly at the warriors that were gathered around him. He had a regal presence that belied his noble background. He stood unmoving until the conversations stopped and all eyes were locked on him.
“The element of attack is verra important for us in winning this conflict. I ken that ye want tae have this clash over as soon as possible, but we cannae move in haste. For now, we still have the edge. We’re surrounded by our bonny land, and can traverse through her without trouble. The English, however, arenae as fortunate. ‘Tis true that they’ve sent multiple scouts tae survey the landscape, but they can never have the same intimate knowledge of our terrain. We ken how tae battle even when the weather shifts. We ken when winter blows her nasty chill. And through all this we ken how tae survive.”
The truth of his words settled on the group. Someone clapped his hands slowly. The mood shifted, becoming more hopeful. And then cheers and hollers soon followed.
A man got up to throw another log into the fire. Sparks shot up into the darkened sky.
Alexander held up his hand again. And when the men settled down, he spoke again. “Because we have the terrain in our favor, I want a set of men tae relocate tae the mouth of Bracken Ridge.” His gaze shifted to the Black Targe Company and another clan, and he began to call out their names. “I want ye men tae reposition yourselves at the new post. Bracken Ridge is a large mountain range. The enemy expects a strike at the rear of the Ridge, but they willnae suspect that we’ll charge them well in advance.”
“I dinnae agree with this plan,” Blane said. All eyes went to him. “Going tae...”
“It looks like ye are scared, Blane,” Niall MacRell said, smirking. Alisha recalled that this was the warrior that had fought Donnell.
“There’s nay fear involved,” he said, his tone stiff.
“That’s nae what it appears from where I sit,” Niall mocked. “If ye...”
“This bickering stops now,” the commander growled, interrupting the younger man. “I’ve made my decision, and both of ye will follow my orders. Ye will head out tae the front of Bracken Ridge,” his tone cold and brokered no argument. The flickering light from the fire flitted across his visage. More than one person held his breath. As far as Alisha heard, no one disobeyed the orders of Alexander Rosstone. That was just foolhardy. Then with a flick of his wrist, he said. “See tae it.”
Chapter 6
“I’m going tae visit the different clans in the encampment. Do ye want tae come along with me, Seamus?” Father Cormac asked the following morning. He finished eating his portion of bread and cheese, and brushed the crumbs from his kilt.
Highland Rogue Page 4