Taken by her Highland Enemy: He was running from his past; she was fighting for her future...

by Kendrick, Kenna

  Dougal tapped the side of Eamon’s horse. “I wish ye luck, lads. Might I suggest ye simply send word of yer coming tae Cutler, so that he knows yer on the move? He willnae wish tae return tae the village in that case?”

  Sean nodded grimly. They had already had that in their minds. “Goodbye, Laird. I do wish for yer safety,” Sean said, and then he turned to the men and women behind him. “Scots, I know ye are a fearsome lot, but it is too risky. It is wise if ye go now and stay at the village tae protect it. We had nae notion of the numbers we were tae come up against. We feel it better if Eamon and I trick Cutler tae move away from this area until we can think of a new plan. I will send word if we need ye.”

  Donovan rode up beside them and said, “I willnae go, Sean. I will stay. Rose would want me here, adding protection.”

  “This is for protection.”

  Gareth rode up as well. “I will come too. There is nae reason for our leader’s husband tae set out tae a fierce enemy with only his brother beside him and his brother’s men. We have the spy’s support as well, so perhaps there are others who will join us in our fight?”

  Eamon turned to Sean. “This could be helpful, brother. What say ye?”

  “Then ye may stay. But the rest of ye go. I thank ye for yer bravery, but ye may need tae be even braver later if any of Cutler’s men come for the village. Keep a sharp eye out in the forest both day and night.”

  The group tried to protest further, but Sean gave them a sharp nod, and they left dismally. Even though their original numbers were small, Eamon couldn’t help but feel worried as the figures of The Scots slowly diminished into the distance. It was just four of them now until they met his own men. Even then, they would only be eight. It was a paltry number to come up against an armed and trained English force. Sean’s face did not betray the fear that Eamon was certain his brother felt, and they moved onward silently, Eamon leading the way to the tavern.

  * * *

  Isabelle awoke to her father’s bellowing voice as it shouted in anger at his men. “You idiots! What am I to do with broken men, and half of you dead!” She glanced at Arya, who had not yet awoken and peeked her head out of the tent. Her father was standing in the middle of their makeshift campsite, his face looking as though it was going to burst open, it was so red with anger.

  Martin trembled beside his master, attempting to soothe his irritation as best he could. “But sir, I had no idea that they were going to the town. And even if I did, no one could have expected an outcome like this. Isabelle thought he looked like a tiny mouse trying to explain itself to a cat. It would have been laughable if not for the tension that filled the space. Her father was unpredictable even when he was in a pleasant mood, but when he was in a foul temper, there was no knowing what he might do next.

  As a child, Isabelle remembered the fear that would cling to her constantly, and she tried to avoid him most of the time if she could. Her father grabbed Martin by his coat and breathed heated words into his face. “You were in charge of them, even if they are not part of our men. Now, we must go and enact vengeance upon the Scotsmen who killed English soldiers, or else the King shall have my head! Rebellion brews in these lands. You can see it on the trees and tavern walls everywhere!

  His voice rippled across the space of the Loch, and once Isabelle heard the words, her heart lightened. Another gift from the Heavens! Now there is more time for The Scots to prepare! And father is angered by my work. She pulled her head back into the tent and roused Arya.

  “Come! I need help to dress. I must speak with my father soon so that I know what his plans are. We move on! We will not head towards Scots land today! There is time and hope for them yet!” Arya rubbed the sleep from her eyes and assisted her mistress to dress as quickly as she could, but Isabelle kept twisting and moving with excitement.

  Once Isabelle was ready, she said, “Wish me luck! For tonight I will need to send word again. I have agreed to meet with their rider tonight at the same place if something was to change. And so it has!” She fled out of the tent and hurried to her father’s. The men had now disbanded and were returned to their own sullen guard while she had been dressing. She hoped her father would be calm enough to give her at least some information.

  Outside of his tent, Martin stood looking like a naughty schoolboy. He put a hand up when Isabelle tried to enter. “Isabelle, your father is in a foul mood. He will not wish to be disturbed.”

  Isabelle tried to use her best and most alluring smile. “Martin, I only wish to have breakfast with my father as we do every morning. You know most assuredly that I have weathered many of his foul moods over the years, and I’m sure today is no different.” Martin was about to retort when she pushed by his hand and entered to find her father sitting behind his table, a bottle of wine in his hand.

  His expression was a fearsome one, and many strangers who laid eyes upon it for the first time had trembled in fear, but she knew it well. She approached him slowly. “Father, may I join you for breakfast?”

  He grumbled, “No! I do not eat this morning, for I am in a foul disposition, daughter. Why have you come?”

  She smiled again, trying to keep her voice light and cheery. “I come nearly every morning to eat with you, Father, just as we do at home. What has happened?”

  Lord Cutler took a large drink of his wine bottle. “I will not discuss politics with a woman, Isabelle, but the idiocy of these men is unfathomable! The twenty-five soldiers we took from Fort Augustus took themselves off tae the nearest tavern and drank the night away, wenching and gambling. Apparently, a brawl broke out with the other occupants, and five of the idiots are now dead, and the rest of them bear one injury or another, including a head heavy with too much drink.” He slammed a fist on the table. “The bloody idiots! We cannot go towards The Scots now. These Highlanders are wily bastards. They will use our injuries to their own advantage. I could not bear the shame of loss. I will crush them with all the power I have.”

  He slammed a fist into the table. So this is perhaps where I get my own temper, Isabelle thought wryly. She sat down across from him and said, “You are wise, Father. You do not wish to fight them if you are not prepared. They know these hills and forests much better than we do. Wait to fight. Deal with the Scotsmen at the neighboring town first, and then we can continue on our journey.”

  Lord Cutler watched his daughter warily for a moment. His eyes were narrowed. Isabelle tried to smile back at him. She knew just what he wanted to hear, but now with his odd expression, she wondered if she had gone a bit too far. Before, she would have complained earnestly and frequently.

  “And why do you agree with me, Isabelle? I know you do not wish me to fight with The Scots. You have tried to convince me many times. And yet you send me into an angry fight with other neighboring Scotsmen over the murder of a few English soldiers? You know what I will do to them, do you not?”

  Isabelle swallowed slowly, but she tried not to give anything away to her father. He was right to be suspicious, and he was also right about what she did. She did not even think twice about sending him on this new murderous mission. Those Scotsmen know not what comes for them! How could she have advised her father so flippantly to go and attack a different area?

  Her heart told her why. It was because it wouldn’t be Eamon. It wouldn’t be the Highlander who made her heart patter faster every time she met with him. She realized she would try anything to steer her father away from him. It was silly, but it didn’t make it less true.

  “I do know, Father.” She was about to continue, but her father laughed.

  “Then, you are hardening already, just as I’d hoped.” He stood and drank again, moving towards the cabinet to pull out two glasses. “Come, we shall have a drink together. Pay no mind to the hour. I want you to take over once I am gone, daughter. And this gives me a little bit of hope. Come with me today to see how I deal with these men in the next village. You will learn something.”

  Isabelle was relieved that her father had not ca
ught her desire for him to move away from The Scots for any other reason. But now she felt sick, thinking that her father thought she desired to become like him. She knew very well what he would do to those unsuspecting men. He would run them through with his own blade while the rest of the village watched and screamed. She shut her eyes against the image. Perhaps by going with him, she could somehow orchestrate a way to prevent it? Her mind raced with the possibility as her father filled her glass with wine.

  “Isabelle? Did you hear me?”

  She jumped a little at his voice and then nodded. “I will come with you, Father.”

  “Good. I also want you to see how I will handle the man who keeps posting up signs, asking for rebellion against the British. The King does not yet know of it, and I hope he never does. This country is cursed, daughter and these rebels will get justice.”

  Isabelle kept her expression calm while her father’s voice lowered to a grumble again. “Do you know where he is, Father?” she asked softly.

  “Not yet. But I will.”

  “I see. Well, do not think of him yet, for your temper has calmed from this morning.”

  “Yes, the wine does its work. But I fear it will come out again once I see the soldiers who left us last night.”

  “Will they also be punished, Father?”

  He nodded over his glass. “You know, I had forgotten that. Excellent idea, daughter. We shall attend to it at once. Martin!”

  Isabelle watched with horror as her words were taken as plans once more. If only he would listen to her all the other times. She stood to follow him out, dreading what would come next.

  * * *

  “Ye bloody bastard! What has taken ye so long?” Lukas said good-naturedly to Eamon once they met outside the tavern in the bright morning light. “We are ready tae fight Englishmen, but I had hoped tae see a few more in yer ranks.” With a frown, Lukas eyed the four men that rode beside Eamon.

  “Aye, I had the same hopes, lad, but once we heard the numbers of Cutler’s men from the spy, the MacManus clan stayed back. And we sent my brother’s men back tae their village tae guard. So we will nae fight taeday. We ride ahead tae lure Cutler away from this area at all costs. Sean, these are my men: Lukas, Harold, Errol, and Dirk.”

  He pointed to each of them in turn, and Sean nodded to them all. Lukas was dark-haired, but the other three were fiery red-haired, bearded with long hair. They had the true Scottish look. Sean said, “And these are my men Donovan and Gareth. I am glad that ye will join us on our journey. We go now towards the meeting place of the spy.”

  Lukas said, “Och, that boy ye were meeting with, lad? So, where do we go then?”

  “Get on yer horses, and let’s ride. We will camp just before the meeting place that Gareth and the spy created. Gareth and Donovan, ye will need tae ride ahead tae get the word out so that Cutler and his men know about our movements. They must know before they get tae the village. Or the MacManus clan. We will meet ye at the camp and the meeting spot when ye return. I hope my spy will come.”

  Gareth and Donovan nodded, and they rode on ahead while the remaining men lingered behind. Sean eyed the trees with caution. “Brother, Cutler’s men could be lingering in the woods at any time. They might jump out and take us while we ride. I say we move as quickly as we can. We must nae linger.”

  “Aye, brother, but ye know Englishmen. They only can fight in a line, like proper soldiers. They will nae hide behind rocks and trees. That is our skill.” He grinned to himself and looked to his men. While they rode with speed, he told them of the news of Cutler’s increased soldiers. He knew that while the MacManus men had trembled to fight against such a number, his men were hardened fighters. The four of them had been together for years, fighting and looting, and caring only for themselves. This was the first time in which they fought for another.

  The only way Eamon had been able to convince them to join him was due to Cutler’s great wealth. Lukas said, “Aye, we’ve nae qualms about the size of the number. We will fight from the trees and the rocks, just as we always have. Is that nae right, men?”

  Dirk, Errol, and Harold merely grunted in assent. They did not look like men to be argued with, and they were used to a rough life. Eamon was satisfied for the moment, and he thought Sean looked a little bit brighter as well. Hope was growing.

  They rode quickly, following Gareth’s directions to the assigned meeting place. They reached the spot in the late afternoon, and since it was a large trunk on the main path, they rode up the hill and hid in a clump of trees behind a pile of boulders, tying their horses to the stiff trunks.

  Sean looked around. “Come, brother, we must look around tae see if anyone lingers. I dinnae like nae moving while the sun is still in the sky.”

  Eamon took up his sword and followed after Sean as they loped around the thick, huddled trees. He was grateful for the large stones as well. That would give them a place to hide from arrows if the need came. “Aye, I understand ye. But we are well-hidden. It is essential that we stop to meet with the spy so that we can hear of their movements.”

  “I hope that Gareth and Donovan made it in time. They should be nearing the village.”

  Eamon knew Sean was worrying, so he tried to comfort him. He shook his head. “Nae. We would have seen them or at least heard them along the way. They are a large group, after all. Come. Let us eat. There is naething in these woods. At least nae yet.”

  Sean reluctantly returned to the small group of men. They had started a fire and were beginning to cook a few rabbits they had found as they rode. Eamon and Sean sat among them, two men taking turns to surround the camp, searching for signs of anyone. They were waiting for any word that Gareth and Donovan had returned. Eamon could feel fear settling in as the darkness grew, and he sent up a silent prayer, hoping against all hope that they would be kept safe.

  Chapter Six

  Dirk and Errol returned from their most recent watch, and they rushed into the camp, their daggers at their sides. “Three riders approach now, men. Go we tae meet them?”

  Eamon stood. “Aye. Come, Sean. We are well-prepared against three if they are our foe.”

  All of them trod away from the fire towards the tiny group and noticed the shadows waiting in a small group on the road. He pushed his brother slightly behind him, but Sean burst forward. “Nae, I shall nae be pushed aside, brother. I am a better fighter.”

  “But I have naught tae lose,” Eamon said, but he allowed Sean to come forward. When they came upon the men, he laughed in relief. He saw the tired faces of Donovan, Gareth, and the boy. “God in Heaven, ye made it! I confess I am surprised. Come tae the camp.” He lowered his voice even further. We must get off the road.”

  He looked around, and the men scrambled up to the enclosure, their horses following behind them. “Lukas and Harold, it is yer turn on the watch.” Without a word, the men left with their weapons in hand.

  Gareth began, “Sean, Eamon, we spread the word throughout the surrounding towns, and even sent a young boy tae Cutler’s men tae alert them.”

  Eamon smiled. “Boy, ye have risked a lot tae come tae us. We thank ye.” The boy smiled back but was attempting to remain in the shadows.

  * * *

  Isabelle cowered back. She knew that if the men got a good look at her face in the light of their fire, they might see her for what she truly was. She didn’t know these other men. She wanted them to have their freedoms, and she didn’t believe her father should tyrannize them as he did, but she didn’t know what they would do if they found out she was a woman.

  She hung back and clutched tightly to her horse. Gareth and Donovan had been kind enough when they’d first spotted her, and while they waited, they tried to question her about what she was doing in all this, but she had remained vague, wanting to speak to Eamon alone.

  Now, with all these men before her, she didn’t think that would be possible. “Sir, should we speak privately?” Her voice was low and soft. She had risked a lot to be there, and if it was
all to go to waste, she wasn’t sure what to do.

  Eamon looked around at the men for a moment. “Aye, we can, lad, but my brother joins us. He is The Wanderer.”

  Isabelle nodded, amazed that she was in The Wanderer’s presence. Just imagine if Father knew where I was! She left her horse to follow them deeper into the woods away from the light of the fire and the listening ears of the other men.

  Her heart was fluttering madly at the sight of Eamon again. He was tall and imposing, but while his eyes were deep and dark, she found a kindness in them that touched her. She only wished that she could be alone with him, although she wasn’t totally sure why. She felt lightheaded, and she inwardly scolded herself for being a ninny.

  Eamon said, “What is yer news, boy? Ye can see that we didnae go tae fight taeday. We lost the number we’d planned tae have.”

  Isabelle said, “And for that, I am glad. Your men have done a good job spreading the word throughout the surrounding towns of how you’re on the move. My fa—master knows, but he has moved onto Drumnadrochit. There has been a situation with the villagers there, and some of the soldiers from Fort Augustus are dead. Lord Cutler goes to punish them, and so will be distracted for a time, but I do not know for how long.”