Grunting, he turned onto his side and grimaced. The stab wound smarted. He’d have to clean it thoroughly to keep it from festering.
Since it made little sense to go anywhere at that point, he lay on his back and studied the ceiling.
The first image that formed in his mind was Ava Mackenzie’s face. The rebellious streak was something he could relate to. Obviously, she escaped for rides and tempted danger as a way of asserting herself. Keithen admired her for it. However, it went no further. She was a Mackenzie, which meant her father’s blood ran through her veins.
Admittedly, there had been a hint of vulnerability about her, and perhaps she could be kind. After all, if it were not for Ava, Catriona could have been killed.
At thinking of Catriona, his chest constricted. Would his poor friend ever recover? Probably not. There was hope that, with time, she would grow stronger and get past the horrible experience, at least a bit.
At the sound of knocks, he called out for whoever it was to enter. It was Broden. “I’ve not known ye to sleep in.”
Keithen sat up and pretended annoyance, although he was glad his friend had come and dragged him away from thoughts of Ava Makenzie. “Since when do ye visit bedchambers? Do ye wish to embroider next?”
“I prefer to weave,” Broden replied in a dry tone and went to peer out the window. “The contingent of Ross guards have arrived.”
“How many?’
“Fifty as agreed, no more, no less.”
It was admirable that the Ross kept his word. They’d been promised fifty men who would come and live there. Some would rotate back and forth to Ross lands, but most had volunteered to remain.
“Who leads them?”
“Ewan Ross,” Broden replied. “I do not care for him.”
Although Keithen recalled the amicable man, he wasn’t sure what about him would make him unlikeable. “What did he do?”
Broden’s face went hard. “He annoys me.”
A chuckle escaped from Keithen. He slid from the bed and dressed. “Is my father up?”
“Not as yet.”
Moments later, they exited out to the busy courtyard. Horses were being led away by stable lads, while more lads rushed forward to get other steeds. The warriors who arrived milled about, sacks of belongings at their feet as they studied the surroundings.
A good fighter always familiarized himself with exits, vulnerable locations, and how many people were about.
Keithen knew that Ross Keep was much larger than his, which meant the Ross guards were probably used to nice accommodations.
Upon learning the number of new arrivals to come, his father had ordered that new structures be built that would rival any at larger homes. Each warrior would have a private space, comfortable bedding and a window.
A well was dug and set up in the center of two U-shaped compounds, along with tables, chairs and a firepit.
A part of him was excited to show them their accommodations, which they’d share with twenty Fraser guards.
Most of the Fraser guards lived either in the village or on farms when not on duty, which left only twenty to live in the keep. The Fraser men had been more than willing to move into the newer accommodations and were already settled.
Ewan Ross came forward, the familiar Ross hazel gaze meeting his directly. “We arrived a bit earlier than planned. The horses were anxious for the travel.” The corners of his lips lifted while he was speaking, giving the illusion of a friendly demeanor. Although the man was easy to get along with, Keithen had seen him in battle. Ewan Ross was not only deadly accurate with the bow and arrow, but a force when fighting hand-to-hand.
“Welcome,” Keithen replied, gripping the man’s hand. “We are grateful for yer laird’s support.”
Broden stood just to the side, his gaze flat. “Once the laird greets yer men, they will be fed.”
As if conjured, several men and women appeared with long wooden planks and began setting up tables just outside the kitchen. Lads rushed past with benches they’d pulled from beside the stables, all which had been built for the new larger guard.
With precision, everything was set up under the watchful eye of Eileen, the head cook. Moments later, six long tables had been placed where they would permanently remain. A covering would be added soon to provide protection during the colder months. The carpenters would probably be sent for later that day.
“Have yer men line up. I will inform my father of yer arrival,” Keithen told Ewan and walked to the front entrance.
Ewan Ross and whoever the other head guard was would be offered rooms inside. This meant he had to ensure to remind his mother the chambers needed to be prepared just off the servant quarters where Broden also had a room.
“There ye are,” his father said, appearing at the top of the stairs. “I wondered if ye were outside yet.”
“I came to seek ye,” Keithen said, stopping his father’s progress. “Father, we must discuss the future with the council. With a force like the Ross behind us, we should not have to join in marriage with the Mackenzie. Laird Ross may pull back his support if he learns of our intentions of an alliance with the bastard Mackenzie.”
Lines of weariness were apparent on Laird Fraser’s brow and tight lines formed around his mouth. “We will have to speak to the Ross prior to him receiving the news from elsewhere. I am not sure there is a way to avoid what has been set in motion.”
“There has to be a way...”
His father placed a hand on his shoulder. “Believe me when I say I understand how ye feel. I don’t wish to have an alliance with the Mackenzie any more than with the devil himself. But we must consider the fate of our people. Fifty new warriors seems like a great number, but not when we compare it the five hundred the Mackenzie can send to attack us if we cross him.”
Together, they went outside. Keithen at his father’s side, they welcomed and thanked the men for being there to support their people.
Keithen’s heart broke, knowing it was not easy for his father to admit they needed the support of another clan to keep their own people safe.
The new arrivals were then shown their accommodations. It made Keithen proud to see the expressions of surprise and admiration from the newcomers. Each man chose a room and placed their belongings inside. Once they were settled, they would be fed and then allowed to rest for the day.
The following day, assignments would be given. Training would begin so that the newly arrived force would become accustomed to and familiar with the Fraser guard.
Ewan and another lead guard were to be given rooms in the keep that were larger than the ones at the guard houses.
Moments later, Ewan joined Keithen, Broden and Laird Fraser in the great room. Ewan silently waited to be spoken to by the laird. Laird Fraser motioned for the men to sit and servants brought them a morning meal.
Already, villagers had begun arriving for whatever business they were to seek council from his father for, while at the same time hoping to be fed.
The cooks would be busy that morning, it seemed. Women had already been sent for from the village and, thankfully, there was plenty of food left from the night before to help serve the guards.
“I pray yer cousin, Laird Ross, fares well,” Laird Fraser said to Ewan.
Ewan nodded. “Quite well, aye. His second child was recently born. Another son, to be named Lachlan Alexander.”
“That is indeed good news,” Laird Fraser said.
Ewan produced several envelopes. “From yer daughter.”
Laird Fraser’s lips curved. “She certainly enjoys writing. Yer messengers must be glad for the reprieve of ye bringing these.”
The men chuckled at the truth of it. Keithen’s sister, Esme, was newly married to a Ross. She’d moved to live there, but either visited frequently or sent letters. They expected that once Esme became a mother, perhaps she would not travel as much. But none of them were willing to wager on it.
When a servant neared, his father gave her the letters. “Give
these to my wife promptly.”
“Yes, Laird,” the woman replied and hurried away.
If there was a message from Laird Ross, it would be delivered in the privacy of his father’s study. Since Ewan showed no hurry, it was obvious there was either no message or one that was only a cursory greeting.
After the meal, Keithen and the men, along with council, were to meet in his father’s study. But his father stopped him, taking his forearm. “See about the concerns of the people. What we have to discuss with the council is not as important.”
“If it has to do with my marriage and the handling of the new guards, it is very much important to me.”
When his father’s right eyebrow lifted, he turned on his heel and went to the high board.
Upon sitting, a farmer rushed forward, hauling with him a crying young woman. They were followed by a young man he recognized. The young man often delivered oats and whey for the animals from his father’s farm.
He studied the people before him, from the angry father, to the crying woman, to the young man who looked to be more annoyed than anything.
Curious, he motioned to the father. “Why have ye brought yer daughter here?”
“She insists on marrying this...this boy. I will not allow it. I offer her instead to come work here in yer father’s service.”
Leaning forward, Keithen studied the father. “What problem do ye have with Tavish?”
At mentioning the boy by name, the farmer frowned. “He is not good enough.”
The young woman looked over her shoulder to Tavish. “We love each other. That is all that matters, is it not, Laird Keithen?”
Keithen studied Tavish for a moment. The young man had yet to step forward. “Tell her the truth.” It was obvious Tavish had no desire to marry the girl but was too kind to speak it.
“I do not wish to marry as yet,” Tavish said, looking straight at the young woman who once again began to cry and raced from the room.
“Why would ye say that?” the father demanded.
“See about yer daughter,” Keithen said, sending the man away. Tavish gave him a grateful nod and followed them out.
As annoying as most of the requests and concerns were, with each person he dealt with, the sense of responsibility for the people grew. Keithen studied their faces, acknowledging how much the people depended on his family to care, lead and protect them.
There were only a few people left milling about when a guard came in from the courtyard and motioned for him to come out.
“There are four men here to speak to ye. They wear no markings of clan affiliation and have asked specifically for ye.”
Keithen walked out and hurried to the gates where four mounted men waited, just outside.
Upon seeing him, one dismounted and neared. He kept his voice low. “I am Gavin Mackenzie. I came to ask ye if my cousin, Ava Mackenzie, is here.”
For some reason, his stomach tightened at the words. “No. She is not. Why do ye come to seek me about it?”
The man looked over his shoulder to ensure they were not heard. “Ava is missing, and my aunt does not wish the Mackenzie to know. She must have slipped out sometime during the night.”
“How is that possible. Yer keep is heavily fortified.”
The man shrugged. “Ava is quite...proficient at finding ways to do so.”
“I will do a discrete search of the surrounding areas. If I find her, I will ensure to escort her home.”
The warrior met his gaze. “We were told she and ye met and spoke. Did she say something that may help us find her?”
Keithen considered their conversation for a moment. “She rides to the village on Chisholm lands to purchase tarts. Perhaps that is a place to look. Ava seemed very familiar with the roads there and back.”
When the men rode off, Keithen remained standing for a long while, considering what to do next.
He went to the guard who’d come for him. “The man remembers me from an archery competition. He seems intent on competing again.”
The guard grinned. “No doubt, he has been practicing since ye beat him.”
“Aye,” Keithen replied and headed back inside. The sooner he took care of what the people needed, the faster he could go and try to help find Ava. Not to mention, there was still the matter of revenge. Three men remained. If only he’d not been thwarted by the masked idiot, there would be only two. The two men he killed that night were not the men he was searching for.
Then again, there was the possibility he’d be dead.
Chapter Six
The wind managed to make it through the gaps in the walls of the small abandoned cottage. When it had begun to rain, Ava had managed to find shelter there the night before.
Shivering, Ava pulled her cloak tightly around herself and wondered what to do next. She’d ridden south for several hours until she’d become lost.
Deciding to wait until sunrise to get her bearings, she was annoyed when the day was much too cloudy and dreary, making it impossible to figure out where the sun was. It would not do to remain somewhere that could be on enemy lands. She got up from the small cot and stalked out.
After gathering some kindling and a few branches, she returned inside and started a fire in the tiny hearth. The cottage must have belonged to a family displaced by her father, as many of their wares remained.
It was sad that his lust for power affected so many, Ava considered as she picked up a broom and began sweeping away months of dirt and dust. Moving about and doing something always helped her think.
An hour later, the tiny space was cleaner and warmer. She boiled water in a pot over the fire and added a few of her horse’s oats, which she’d share with him until she was able to purchase food somewhere along her travels.
The plan was to go to a large village where no one knew her. Pretending to be a poor widow, she could join a community. Although she had no trade, she was an efficient weaver and could make nice blankets and shawls.
With the coin she’d brought with her, it would be more than enough to establish herself somewhere and never have to be a Mackenzie again.
It was much later that day when Ava went out to check on her steed. The animal seemed content enough under the small shelter attached to the cottage. After fetching water and feeding him, she walked around in an effort to familiarize herself with the surroundings. Rather than head in a direction she was not sure of, Ava decided to remain there. She’d have to spend another night, so it was best to know if anyone lived nearby.
After walking just a few minutes, the sounds of horses caught her attention and she fell to the ground to keep from being seen.
A group of eight men on horseback patrolled. They wore clan colors and were obviously guardsmen. Ava immediately recognized the tartan and she blew out a breath. She’d gone in the wrong direction because the men were definitely Frasers.
It was not the best situation to be on Fraser lands. If she were found alone, the men would not hesitate to assault her.
Heart thundering, she remained flat on the ground, praying they did not notice any smoke coming from the cottage.
Her worst fears materialized when one of the men stopped and looked around. He seemed to sense something was amiss. Head down, Ava remained frozen in place, unable to breathe.
Just then, a horseman appeared and neared the guardsmen. She didn’t dare lift her head to see who it was. Instead, she listened intently.
Moments later, all the men rode away. Ava couldn’t believe her luck. Ever so slowly, she crept backward then stood and hurried to the cottage.
Once inside, she doused what was left of the fire and lowered to a chair. It was imperative to figure out where she was. With a twig, she began drawing a map from memory. There was no sound of water outside, therefore she’d missed the river’s edge. Instead of going directly south to MacBean lands as had been her plan, she’d diverted southwest and straight into Fraser territory.
She would have to take a chance and go back outside to try to gau
ge where, exactly, she was. There was no other way to figure it out. Thankfully, the clouds had begun to dissipate and, soon, she’d be able to track the sun’s descent.
Letting out a sigh, she stood and went to the window and peered out. There didn’t seem to be anyone about. As much as she wanted to go outside, terror kept her from reaching for the door. There wasn’t any choice, she could not remain there. Sooner rather than later, she’d be found out and the consequences could prove horrific.
The horse made a sound and Ava wondered if someone was out there. She hurried to the back of the cottage and leaned on the wall, hoping to hear better. But the animal settled and was silent.
Everything was going wrong. It was as if fate wanted her to be in a horrible situation, married to someone who detested her and her family, albeit with good reason.
Knowing there was no choice but to go out and scout, Ava hurried to the door. After a sharp breath, she opened it to find that a man blocked her way out.
Ava shrieked and stumbled backward. She would have fallen if not for the strong hands gripping hers and pulling her upright.
“Yer family is looking for ye,” Keithen said matter-of-factly, looking around her in case someone else was there. “Why are ye here?”
Not quite recovered from the scare, all she did was look at him, her eyes wide. If he decided to kill her, which she believed he was capable of, no one would ever be the wiser.
Keithen took her elbow and guided her to a chair. “Sit.”
Instead of sitting, Ava hurried around the table to put space between them. He was larger, stronger and even faster, but she would fight until the bitter end. Narrowing her eyes, she watched him closely for any movement.
For a moment, they locked gazes. His expression was unclear, his thoughts a mystery. Even though she hoped hers were as well, Ava knew better. The terror she felt at the moment, the knowledge it was possibly her last day was impossible to keep hidden.
“We must figure out a way to get ye back home before yer father uses the absence as an excuse to attack us again,” Keithen said, pulling back a chair, turning it and then straddling the spindly piece. “Yer cousin,” he tapped the side of his head attempting to remember the name, “Gavin, I believe, came to see me. It seems yer mother is keeping yer absence hidden.”
A Fearless Rebel (Clan Ross Book 5) Page 5