Fraser 02 - Highland Quest

by B. J. Scott

  Bryce kicked at a rock and hesitated before answering. His gut twisted. He hated being the bearer of bad news, but Robert had a right to know the fate of his brothers.

  “I wish I had better news to share.” Bryce cleared his throat and continued. “As you are aware, I was supposed to arrive in Turnberry a fortnight ago, but went to Loch Ryan instead.”

  Robert’s posture stiffened. “Go on.”

  “I had my suspicions that your brothers were in danger of an ambush, so went to warn them.” Bryce shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he searched for the right words. “I was too late.”

  “My brothers?” Robert’s voice wavered.

  “The MacDougalls lay in wait and showed no quarter. All were killed as they left the ship, except for your brothers. They were captured and taken to Carlisle Castle, tried, and executed for treason.” Bryce laid his hand on Robert’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry. They offered their lives so you could return to Scotland unimpeded, rebuild your forces, and drive de Valance out once and for all. Don’t let their sacrifice be in vain.”

  Robert’s face blanched, but as if it were carved in stone, his expression never changed. “They knew the risk and died for something they believed in. How is it you escape unharmed?”

  Bryce absently rubbed his injury before peeling off his tunic to reveal the blackened wound. “I didn’t. Everything was over by the time I arrived. But the blackguards had yet to leave. I confronted Dungal, but things dinna go as I intended. Instead of finding my revenge, I met with his sword instead.”

  “And he let you live? That doesna sound like Dungal.”

  “He made the mistake of leaving me for dead on the shore of the loch. I was certain he was right, but as luck would have it, several men from a nearby village came along and took me with them. The niece of one of these men is a healer. She sealed the wound with a hot blade and cared for me until I was strong enough to sit a horse.”

  “You were fortunate.” Robert turned and began to warm his hand over the fire.

  “You are a fool to endanger your life by coming here.” Alasdair grabbed Bryce by the upper arm and yanked him around to face him. “You should have sent word and returned to Fraser Castle.”

  “I’m a grown man and dinna need to be coddled. Besides, I have more information to share with Robert, and am determined to do my part to see that MacDougall pays for his treacherous acts,” Bryce countered.

  “There’s more?” Robert asked and raised a brow.

  “Aye. I fear Aymer de Valance knows of your return and will try to stop you from reaching Carrick.”

  Robert nodded. “He chased me halfway across Scotland after the battle of Methven, and even when I was on the Isle of Arran, but I managed to stay one step ahead of him. He has already challenged us once since our return to the mainland, but failed. I’m not surprised he has devised a plot to intervene.”

  “Mayhap we should leave right away,” Alasdair suggested. “Get out of the area before de Valance arrives and put as much distance between us and the coast as possible. Once we are settled in Carrick, he’ll be hard-pressed to touch us.”

  “We will leave in good time. I spent many months preparing my strategy and won’t let this turn of events sway my agenda.” Robert stroked his bearded chin and shook his head. “Nay, my brothers did not give their lives so I could turn tail and run. I am more determined now than ever to drive the English and their miscreants out of Scotland, but I still intend to stick to my original agenda. We leave two days hence. MacDougall will rue the day he chose to betray his countrymen.”

  Robert stormed off, but before he exited the cave, he stopped, then glanced over his shoulder. “Rest, Bryce. Alasdair, have the cook fix him something to eat. He must be famished after his journey. We will talk again later.”

  “Robert is right. You need to have something to eat and a good night’s sleep before you leave on the morrow.” Alasdair patted Bryce on the back before ushering him toward the entrance of the cave.

  “Leave? What are you talking about? Robert said it would be a while before we move out.” Bryce refused to budge. He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere until Robert gives the word.”

  “We will be moving deeper into Carrick in a few days, but you will be departing for Fraser Castle on the morrow. You’ve delivered your missives and need to go home to recuperate from your injury.”

  “I have no intention of going anywhere,” Bryce replied adamantly. He knew this would happen when his brother found out he’d been injured. Ever since their father and oldest brother were killed, Alasdair had taken it upon himself to protect his remaining brothers. Sometimes he took that self-appointed responsibility to excess and this was obviously going to be one of those times.

  Bryce squared his shoulders and met his brother’s stare. “I will accompany Robert and see justice served. You’ll not sway me on this.”

  “I’ll not hear of it.” Alasdair slammed his balled fist against the stone wall of the cave, the blow causing his knuckles to crack and bleed.

  “You’ll not tell me what to do,” Bryce countered. “I’m a grown man and dinna need my brother giving me orders. I’ve been through all of this with Connor and I—”

  “Connor allowed you to come? What is wrong with the man? Is he daft?” Alasdair threw his hands into the air.

  “Connor has no say in what I do, any more than you do. I am not going to discuss this any further. My wound is on the mend, and I plan to honor my oath to Robert.”

  “Robert will understand,” Alasdair growled.

  “He won’t have to since I’m not leaving. Besides which, if I was going to stay anywhere it would have been with . . .” He glanced away. He’d said too much.

  “With who?” Alasdair’s eyebrows lifted and a slight smile curled his upper lip. “Nay . . . Wait, dinna tell me. You met a comely lass who caught your fancy and was willing to lift her skirt. I suppose you found it near to impossible to leave her bed. When will you learn women are nothing but trouble?”

  “Fallon.”

  “What’s that you say?” Alasdair asked.

  “It was Fallon’s uncle who found me on the bank of the loch and she nursed me back to health.” Even he could hear the way his voice mellowed when he spoke her name.

  “Bah! I dinna care who she was. I still say women are more problems than they’re worth. Look what happened to Connor. Once smitten, there was no turning back. I thought you had more sense. Mayhap I was wrong.”

  “I am as dedicated to the cause as you, and I dinna have room for a woman in my life. Nothing happened between us. I left as soon as I was well enough to travel, but I am concerned about her safety and that of her uncle. Should the English discover she tended my wounds, it could put them in danger.”

  “That may be, but you wouldn’t be the first man to have his head turned by a comely lass. Given your bonny face and carefree way with the lassies, I always thought you would be the first to fall in love or forced to take a wife, not Connor.” Alasdair patted his belly. “If you know what I mean?”

  Anger churned in his gut as he tamped down the urge to strike out and silence his brother once and for all. He’d listened to quite enough. While Alasdair meant well, he had a tendency to interfere far too much in his private life.

  “What does a buffoon like you know about love? Unless of course you are referring to your passion for a leg of mutton or a flagon of whiskey.”

  “You seem to forget, I’ve seen you and Fallon together. I’ve also witnessed the way you look at her. It put me in mind of a lovesick hound. When we were at the Scott’s castle and again at Fraser Castle, you couldn’t keep your eyes off her. A man would have to be blind not to notice,” Alasdair countered.

  Bryce shook his head and raised his hand in protest. “I refuse to continue this conversation. There is no telling how this confrontation with the English will unfold and I’ll not have Fallon pining for something that will neve
r be. Once this is over, I intend to travel, and to make a name for myself. Mayhap I’ll journey to Europe and offer my sword for hire.”

  “I’m glad to see that you’re thinking with your head and not your . . .” Alasdair glanced down at Bryce’s lap, laughed, then slapped him on the back. “Let’s go and see about some food. I’m starving.”

  “When aren’t you hungry?” Bryce grumbled and shook his head. “From the time we were lads, I’ve never known you to miss a meal.”

  “Once we’ve eaten, you can get some rest. It is a long journey to Fraser Castle.”

  Bryce stared at Alasdair in disbelief. “You really dinna listen to what I said. After we eat, I’d like to meet with Robert again and discuss his plan of attack.”

  Fallon leaned with her back pressed against the curtain wall, contemplating her next move. She’d spoken with Donald’s friends, but neither Angus nor Ian could offer a solution to the problem. Were they to stand up on Donald’s behalf, they’d implicate themselves and be arrested.

  Both men had families to consider, so she really could not blame them for holding their tongues. Nothing would be gained in the senseless execution of anyone else. Feeling very much alone, she blew out a ragged breath. Dungal had wasted no time putting together a tribunal. By the time she arrived in the village, Donald’s fate had already been decided.

  The outcome of the mock trial was predictable, the execution set for sunrise. Given Dungal’s determination to see Donald punished, Fallon was actually surprised her uncle been given that much time to live. She nervously twisted the corner of the plaid brat she wore about her head and shoulders and watched as Donald was led from the church to a stone croft at the edge of town. There, he’d be held until morning.

  Fallon searched the area for Dungal and when she was certain he was not around, she squared her shoulders and approached the croft. But as she reached for the latch, the door swung open, and a guard blocked her path.

  “What are you doing here? Be off with you.” The mountain of a man widened his stance and crossed his thick arms over his broad chest.

  “Please. I only wish a few minutes to speak to my uncle.” She chewed on her lower lip, waiting for a reply.

  “He’s to have no visitors. Leave now before Dungal finds you here.” His voice was cold and held no hint of emotion.

  “I’ll be but a minute. I’m sure if your da or uncle were imprisoned, you’d do what ever you could to see him.”

  “It is my duty to see Dungal’s instructions are carried out, not to question them. Leave.”

  “I understand you are charged with standing watch, but surely you must have a heart. I only wish to speak with him, to offer comfort. I lost my parents when I was very young and he’s been like my father.” A few tears slid down her cheeks despite her efforts to keep them at bay.

  “Dungal will have me flayed if I disobey his orders.”

  “You’d merely be showing compassion to a fellow Scot. A man who has but a few hours to live. Surely the Almighty will reward you for such kindness.”

  The guard’s harsh expression softened. Had she managed to weaken his resolve?

  “I wish there was something I could do for you, lass, but I was given my orders. If it were up to me, I’d grant your request, but—”

  “Please. I only wish to speak to him.” Choked with emotion, the words caught in her throat. “I give you my oath to leave before anyone knows I’ve been. I want to tell him I love him and to say . . . to say goodbye.” Hands clasped tightly together, she prayed the sentry would change his mind.

  The guard dragged his hand across his brow, then to her relief he stepped aside. “Very well. I’ll grant you a moment to say farewell. But only for a moment and then you must be away and not come back.”

  Fallon brushed the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Thank you. I promise to be brief. You are most kind.” She bobbed a curtsy and rushed past him. Her heart sank when she spied Donald standing by the window, watching as the gallows were tested.

  “Uncle.” She touched his arm.

  Donald turned and immediately wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “I told you to stay at the croft. Why did you disobey me and come to town? If Dungal sees you, he may decide to arrest you as well.” He whispered in her ear so the guard would not hear.

  “I could not remain behind when you were to be punished. It is my fault you’re here.” She fought back the sob rising in her throat.

  “Hush now, dinna cry. You are not to blame for any of this. I knew when I brought Bryce to the croft the consequences would be severe if anyone found out. But I could not leave him to die. I may be too old to fight for the cause, but I am a Scot. By offering him refuge, I feel in some way that I have done my part.”

  “But if I’d told you from the beginning I knew him and he was a fugitive, things might have been—”

  “The fact you knew Bryce, or that he was wanted by Longshanks was of no importance in my decision to offer him sanctuary. I would have taken him in regardless of his past.” Donald brushed a tear from her cheek with his knuckles.

  “I wish there was something I could do to help, a way to stop the execution from happening. It is so unfair.” Her heart was breaking. The thought of Donald being executed for helping Bryce tore at her soul.

  “There is one thing you can do. But it is very dangerous.” Donald kept his voice low.

  “Anything. Tell me what.” She clung to his arms in desperation.

  “While I was waiting for the trial to begin, I overheard some of Dungal’s men talking. Apparently they have gotten word the Bruce has returned to Scotland. He crossed near Turnberry while his brothers created the diversion at Loch Ryan. Dungal is leaving on the morrow, after the execution, to meet with Aymer de Valance. They will then try to intercept the Bruce before he can establish a stronghold in Carrick. By doing so, they hope to squelch his attempt to regain his throne.”

  “Do you think that is where Bryce was headed?”

  “Aye. I’m certain of it, but he dinna say anything for fear it would put you in danger.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “You must leave at once for Turnberry. Warn the Bruce that de Valance knows of his plans and give them a chance to escape before it is too late.”

  “I canna leave you.” Fallon fisted her fingers in the fabric of his tunic. “I’ll not have you die alone.”

  Donald hugged her before he continued. “You must do this. I will die a better death knowing it had not been in vain. There is nothing you can do to stop the hanging, but you can save many lives, including Bryce’s, if you leave now.”

  “But how will I find the Bruce? Surely his camp will be well hidden.” Her pulse sped up in anticipation of her impending journey, but her heart clenched at the thought of leaving Donald behind.

  “I also heard mention of an inn, The Skull and Bucket. Apparently the innkeeper knows how to find the Bruce. Seek him out and be careful, lass.” Donald pressed a kiss to her forehead and before she could protest any further, called out to the guard. “See my niece out. Thank you for giving us a moment of privacy to say goodbye.”

  “I canna leave you. Please.” Fallon sobbed. “There must be something we can do to stop this injustice. You canna just give up and allow Dungal to win.”

  The guard lumbered forward and grasped Fallon’s upper arm. “You must be on your way, m’lady. There is no telling when Dungal might come by. Should he find you here, he’ll stretch both our necks.”

  “Release her, and she’ll leave peacefully,” Donald demanded. “Be a brave lass and do as he says.” He gently grasped her shoulders and tried to push her away.

  Fallon refused to budge. “You canna die, Uncle. I won’t—”

  “You gave me your word, m’lady. You must leave now.” The guard’s tone hardened, but she held tighter.

  “Fallon, listen to me.” Donald slid his finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. “The guard is right. If you wish to honor me, grant my
last request. Go, before Dungal finds you. Please do as I ask and dinna come back. Promise me.”

  Fallon unfurled her fingers and bobbed her head.

  “It’s time, m’lady.” The guard grasped her elbow and led her toward the door.

  “Wait!” Fallon dug her heels in and wrenched her arm free of the man’s grasp. She rushed back toward Donald and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you. Thank you for everything you have done for me.”

  “I love you too, lass,” he whispered as the sentry yanked them apart.

  The guard towed Fallon across the room and when they reached the door, he opened it a crack and peered out. “No sign of Dungal. Be off with you now and dinna return.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and shoved her out the door, just as a man rounded the corner.

  “What in damnation do you think you are doing here?”

  Fallon’s heart lodged in her throat. Dungal.

  Chapter 6

  “What is this woman doing here?” Dungal pointed at Fallon. “I thought I made myself clear when I told you the prisoner is to have no visitors.” His words were sharp, his face threatening.

  The sentry averted his eyes and studied the ground. “Um . . . well . . . well, you see—”

  “He dinna let me see my uncle,” Fallon cut him off, before his stammering gave them away. “I begged him to grant my request, but he wouldn’t budge.” She twisted the edge of her brat around her finger and glanced at her feet.

  “Is that so?” Dungal snapped.

  “Aye.” The guard shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I was telling the lass to be off when you came along.”

  Dungal stepped forward, glared at the guard for a moment, then dismissed him with a curt wave of his hand. “That will be all for now. We will discuss this later.” He waited for the man to slam the outer door before confronting Fallon.