The Scot's Deception (Highland Swords Book 5)

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The Scot's Deception (Highland Swords Book 5) Page 16

by Keira Montclair


  Alex could see them making their way across the hall. When Logan reached him, he said in an undertone, as if he didn’t wish anyone else to overhear them. “Lina and I must speak with you.”

  Alex knew exactly what they wanted. He looked across the hall and called out, “John, help me to the solar, please.”

  John hurried across the hall, eager to help his grandsire as he always was. “I wish I could travel with them, Grandsire. How old must I be? Papa asked me to stay here while they search for Chrissa, but he said I could go to Stirling with him after they return.”

  Alex wouldn’t tell the lad that it was his fault he was still here.

  Once they were settled in the solar, Logan said, “Avelina has a story to tell you, John.”

  John turned to her without speaking, his expression open and intent. He’d become a good listener, John. He wasn’t the sort to jump in with questions until he had a sense of what was going on. An unusual trait in one so young.

  Alex nodded to her. “Go ahead, Avelina.”

  “This is probably verra new information for you, so please listen and ask questions at the end. Many years ago, the Queen of the Fae visited me. She told me an evil force had captured the sapphire sword and was intent on using it to overtake the land. My mission was to find the sword and take it back. I was successful, although once the sword was in my power, I had to marry within two moons to preserve its power.” She smiled. “I was fortunate to have already met the man I wished to marry. Once I defeated the man who’d stolen the sword, Queen Erena bid me to hide it. She said we wouldn’t have a need for it for decades. But she came to me a short while ago and told me the time had come to pass it on to someone else.”

  John was totally enraptured by the tale. His eyes widened when Alex opened a drawer, taking out a package wrapped in a Ramsay plaid and setting it on the desk. He nodded to Avelina, indicating she should be the one to reveal it, and she unwrapped the plaid and pulling out the sword, its gemstones glittering.

  Alex and Logan watched, spellbound, as Avelina set the sword down closer to John. “Erena instructed me to pass the sword along to your grandsire. She said he would choose my successor, and he has chosen you, John.”

  John lifted the sword, rubbing his fingers over the fine gemstones, then glanced up at his grandsire with wide eyes. “’Tis a most fine beauty anyone would be honored to hold. But why me?”

  Alex said, “I chose you because you are young and you will protect it well. You have the constitution to think carefully before using it, to always consider what is best for our clan, our people.”

  John, clearly humbled, set down the weapon. “I hope to make you proud, Seanair.”

  “There is one other point we must make,” Avelina explained. “If you were older, you would have been given two months to find a mate, but I’ve learned you’ve already chosen your mate?”

  “Aye,” he said without hesitation. “Coira.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Alex smiled at John. “I was certain you’d say that, so I sent for her.” Speaking more loudly, he said, “Enter.”

  The door opened and Coira stepped inside, her golden hair falling to her waist, unplaited but tied loosely back. She’d become a lovely lass at one and ten, but she was still shy unless she was around John.

  “Coira, sit down, please,” Alex said.

  John held up the sword for Coira to see, and she gasped. “Oh, John. ’Tis small but quite beautiful. What is its purpose?”

  Avelina gave her a quick explanation, then finished by saying, “Alex has chosen John to be the bearer of the sapphire sword. Legend has it he must marry within two moons, but since he is so young, he cannot do so.”

  “But could we not become betrothed, Seanair?” John suggested. “Would that not complete the legend, make it intact? I’ll want no other lass but Coira.”

  Coira blushed and smiled, clearly pleased by the thought.

  Logan jumped to his feet and said, “Works for all of Scotland. Coira, do you agree to marry John when you are eight and ten?”

  John smiled and reached for her hand. She clasped it and nodded. “Of course. Naught would make me happier.”

  “’Tis done, Grant,” Logan declared. “John Alexander Grant is the protector of the sapphire sword. You must never let it fall into another’s hands, John. You’re to use it to eliminate whatever evil is plaguing our land, and once your duty is done, you must hide it and protect it with your life. Do you accept this charge?”

  “And you must marry Coira when the time is right,” Avelina added.

  “I am honored to accept.” He tilted his head. “But how will I recognize the Queen of the Fae if she appears to me as she has to you?”

  “You’ll not miss her,” Logan said. “It’s a rare lass who appears within a swarm of butterflies.” He clapped John on the back. “Now go off and find Chrissa and Drostan with your sire and the guards waiting outside. Be sure to kill any evil along the way. There’s something bad out there. I can feel it.”

  John glanced at Alex, seeking verification of what Logan had said.

  “There are guards awaiting you. They’ll bring you to your sire. You’ll be riding with the Highland Swords, lad.”

  “You must use it this day,” Avelina said, her voice harsher and more urgent than usual. “In fact, I would urge you not to hesitate. I can feel the rage inside of the sword. ’Tis reacting to evil around us. You’ll know what to do when the time comes. John, I’ve heard of your past success with the spectral power used by the Highland Swords. It has been dormant for a while now. Am I correct, Alex?”

  “Not exactly dormant. We had no need for it for a long time. Dyna thinks it will return when necessary. I have to trust her instincts.”

  “It may be because you needed the last piece, this sword. My guess is your niece and nephews were given their ability to protect John and the sapphire sword. Please consider that, John. The two powers are likely connected. They create the same storm surges. Use the sword well because together, their power could be even stronger.”

  John, clearly humbled by what Avelina said, squeezed Coira’s hand and nodded. “I vow to do my best to protect the sapphire sword, guard it well, and only use it to protect our clans and all of Scotland.”

  “One last thing,” Avelina said. “John, as bearer of the sapphire sword, I suspect you may have some powers of sight. You may get the inkling that something evil is near, that something feels wrong. Trust your gut. You’ll learn over time when ’tis real and when ’tis false, but until then, trust all that you feel. I also found that the closer I was to the evil force, the more the sword heated.”

  “Heated?”

  “Aye, the hilt will warm to your touch, much like the spectral swords. Another reason why I believe they are connected.”

  “I shall do my best,” John nodded emphatically.

  Avelina gave them each a swift hug, then said, “If you ever have questions, you’re always welcome on Menzie land. Both of you. And if you ever feel you’re in a bind, please call out to Erena. She will help you.”

  John nodded before he left, Coira followed, and the door closed behind them.

  “I think you chose well, Alex,” Avelina said. “I’m glad to turn it over to someone new.”

  “Now he needs to find the bastard who’s out to get half of Scotland,” Logan said. “My belly won’t rest until he does.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chrissa awoke at dawn, surprised to find she’d slept through the night. Drostan lay so still it frightened her. She rested her cheek against his forehead and sighed with relief. He was warm, but not from fever. Watching his chest, she could still catch the slight rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

  She shook him awake, but he didn’t respond. His body likely needed more time to heal.

  She got up, stretched her sore muscles from all that she’d been through, then left their safe area to relieve herself. The twittering of birds told her there were no major groups in the area that didn’t
belong, so she thought it safe enough. Following the burn to a spot where it cascaded over a stack of rocks, the water bubbling and gurgling with what could only be described as joy, she cupped the fresh water in her hands, splashed her face, and then sipped and rinsed her mouth. She felt dusty and dirty from captivity, so did what she could to clean up while keeping an eye out for any visitors or movement from Drostan. Finally, she filled the skin and brought it back to their hidden spot in the pines, but a sound forced her to hasten her movement.

  Hoofbeats, and from many horses. She hid behind the pine boughs, listening as the force approached.

  It wasn’t a large force, but it included enough people to pose significant trouble for them. The first sound was from a female voice.

  “Where the hell did they go?” one man said.

  The woman answered, “I don’t know, but we have to find them. This could ruin our plans. I wanted both of them dead to distract the warriors.”

  “We’ll find them after we leave the big event,” the man said dismissively. “We cannot miss it. I have to watch the massacre.” His voice was vaguely familiar to Chrissa, but she couldn’t be sure if it was someone she knew or not. “I’ve worked hard to get myself in this position. This was my part of the plan. I’ll see it to fruition and enjoy every second of the death it causes.”

  “If your ruse succeeds. As soon as the Ramsays are close enough to recognize the Grants, their attack will halt. And the same is true for the other side.”

  “Mayhap,” the man said, “but they’re prideful to a fault. They’ll act irrationally to the thought of Englishmen wearing their plaid. Both sides have talented archers. And once they get closer, we’ll send our guards into the front lines. Once they start killing, ’twill be madness. The clans will turn on each other quickly enough.”

  “Perhaps you are right. If so, this could prove to be a brilliant strategy. Between the chaos on the battlefield and the shock of finding Chrissa and her warrior dead, there will hardly be any Grants left in the castle. When King Edward takes Stirling Castle, the English will kill all the savage Scots, and then we can overtake Grant Castle and the sword. Those gemstones and the wealth in the cellars of the castle will make us quite wealthy. We’ll leave the bodies outside the gates, and when they’re discovered, we can sneak in and let our men in through the back.”

  “Perfect,” the man said with satisfaction. “What a wonderful turn of events that we learned of the sapphire sword. I was pleased to be in the right place to learn of it. We don’t have to locate the two ingrates now. They’re weak enough that they’ll not go far, and I believe one of them was injured. Maybe we’ll be lucky and the wolves will take care of them for us. Why not watch the battle and return to look for them afterward?”

  She turned to the guards traveling with them, giving Chrissa a view of her face. The man still had his back to her. “We must leave now. Hurry.”

  Chrissa’s hands were shaking.

  The woman was Drostan’s mother, and apparently she intended to kill her own son, and Chrissa too. She didn’t recognize the man, but it was clear their wickedness knew no bounds. They’d fashioned a plan to get the Ramsays and Grants to attack one another.

  They had to stop it from happening.

  She gathered their things, returning them to the saddlebags before she tried to awaken Drostan. How she prayed he would wake up.

  “Drostan?” she said leaning down. She lay down next to him so she could whisper in his ear. “Please, love. Wake up.” Shaking his shoulder just a wee bit, she kissed his cheek twice.

  His eyes opened slowly, evidence of his weakness, but they did open. She gave him time to adjust, and he turned to her, his hand coming up to cup her face. “Chrissa? Where are we? Were we taken captive again?”

  “Nay. We killed Percy and the two guards and we slept out here. But we have to go. I’ll explain on the way, but they aim to take over Grant Castle. Please. I’ll help you get up.”

  “Will you help me take a pish because I really have to go,” he said as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Just teasing you. But I surely am in a weakened state.” He tried to stand on his own but stopped as soon as he put weight on his leg. He looked down and cursed. “I forgot, but ’tis coming back to me now. I’ll need your help after all. More of your help, I should say. You sewed it up and stayed with me?”

  “Aye, please hurry. We’ll talk later.” She helped him out of their protected area to a spot near a tree so he could lean against it to do what he had to. They made the short walk to the burn, and she sat him down on a rock. “Here. I had one hunk of cheese left that was hidden in my saddlebag. Eat. I’ll get everything on the horses, then we must go.”

  He splashed water on his face while she returned to their spot to gather their furs and plaids. “I think you’ll have to ride with me. We can leave your horse here. There will be plenty where we’re going.”

  She’d thought him too weak to stand by himself, let alone move, so it caught her by surprise when he led the horse to a large boulder so they could both mount. Surely that was a good sign, wasn’t it?

  “Can you mount from here?” she asked after she climbed on.

  Drostan struggled, but he managed to climb up behind her on the horse.

  “You’re sure you can hang on?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, though his voice sounded strained, “but I have no idea where we are. Where are we going in such a hurry?”

  “We’re following the woman who says she is your mother. I’ll explain more once we’re moving.”

  They didn’t make it far before she heard horses. She reigned in their mount, fearing the worst, and then she heard Alick’s bird call. At least, she swore it sounded like him.

  She tugged on the reins of her horse, tears in her eyes.

  “What is it?” Drostan asked.

  “’Twas my brother’s call. I think they’re ahead.” She pushed on, flying through the trees, praying it was indeed her brother. When they finally broke through the woods into a clearing, the most pleasing sight she could have ever asked for sat ahead—her brother and her cousins gathered in a huddle on their horses.

  “Chrissa? ’Tis really you?” Alick started to dismount, but she held her hand up and said, “Aye, ’tis me. But we don’t have any time to waste. Just tell me where the Grants and Ramsays are meeting.”

  “Gallow Hill. Why?”

  “I’ll explain quickly, then we must go. I overheard two of our enemies talking after we got away. They were headed to Gallow Hill.” Something dawned on her. “Where are Dyna and Alasdair? Are they hale?”

  Alick explained, “They’ve gone back to bring John along after he was to meet with Grandsire. We’re to meet them at Gallow Hill with Connor.”

  Reassured they were fine, she continued, “The group has two motives: one is to see the Ramsays and Grants massacre each other at Gallow Hill and the second is to overtake Grant Castle.”

  “They’re fools,” Els scoffed. “The Grants and Ramsays would never take up arms against each other.”

  Derric asked, “And why take you two captive? What purpose did that serve?”

  “They stole us because they wanted information about where the clans were to meet. Their plan was to kill us and then draw the warriors outside the castle so they could overtake Grant Castle. They believed it possible because they think the Englishmen will massacre the Scots at Stirling.” Chrissa gulped, her heartbeat telling her they needed to get moving before they were too late. “They also sent false messages to both sides, hoping to trick the clans into fighting. Their own men will be in the middle to start a battle. We have to get there before anything happens.”

  Derric whistled and Els said, “Shite. Clever attempt though ’twill fail miserably.”

  “Wait until Alasdair hears this one,” Alick said, shaking his head. “Let’s move on to Gallow Hill. Chisholm, can you make it? You don’t look well.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Drostan said. “Move, lass. How long a ride?”


  “I’m not certain, but I think I know exactly where ’twill happen,” she said, taking her horse into a nice canter to see if he could hold up.

  Alick passed her, taking the lead. “I know where we’re going.” He glanced back at her, giving her a weighing look. “You wanted to be in the middle of everything, lass. I hope you’re ready.”

  She did too.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Everything was moving too quickly for Drostan’s sluggish mind. The last thing he recalled was retreating into the copse of trees after his injury. He and Chrissa had decided they’d been set up. Their captors had played a sick game on them. But why?

  And hadn’t he sent Chrissa off to summon help? He felt sure he remembered that.

  Leaning over her shoulder as they rode, he asked, “Tell me again why they took us captive?”

  “Aye, ’twas part of their plan. They hope to see many Grants killed, between this confrontation and the battle at Stirling Castle on Midsummer’s Day. We are the third part of the plan. They intend to kill us both and leave our bodies outside Grant land to draw out the survivors, giving their men the chance to come over the back curtain wall and overtake the castle.”

  “And my mother is one of them.”

  “Aye, and she seemed familiar with the layout of the keep. Did she work inside?”

  “She worked in the kitchens for years.” It sickened him to his core that his own mother was involved in an attempt to take down all of the Grants. Apparently, she wanted the entire castle for herself. What would the lairds do when they find out? Would he be thrown out? Shunned?

  “Well, your own mother wants you dead, so please keep that in mind when you see her.”

  “Who’s her accomplice?”

  “I don’t know. His voice was unfamiliar to me, but he seemed to think he could get into the castle easily. The guards wouldn’t stop him, he said. He plans to let your mother and their warriors over the back wall. Did she take a lover before she left your father? Mayhap he was a Grant warrior who would be accepted back in.”

 

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