McKenna's Honor, a Novella, Book Four of the Clan MacDougall Series

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McKenna's Honor, a Novella, Book Four of the Clan MacDougall Series Page 8

by Suzan Tisdale


  Again she stopped him with a wave of her hand. “Aye, aye,” she began. “I be much younger than my husband. It canna be the first time you’ve ever heard of an older man marryin’ a younger woman,” her tone was firm and direct. “Now, let us get back to why ye be here and what ye need of us.”

  Daniel was uncertain if her blunt, to-the-point attitude was a simple matter of who she was or if she was in a hurry to hear them out before sending them on their way. His jaw clenched with annoyance.

  Two could play at this game. “Since ye state that yer fully aware of the bond of the seven, then ye already ken what we need.”

  “Ye canna have it,” was her curt response. “So ye best be on your way.” She gave a quick nod of her head and started to turn around to leave.

  “What do ye mean we canna have it?” Daniel asked angrily. “If ye be fully informed of the bond, then ye ken ye canna deny us.”

  Lady Arline let loose an irritated sigh. “Daniel,” she began. “I canna give what I do no’ have.”

  He wasn’t sure how much more of this talking in circles he could withstand. Mayhap the young woman didn’t understand as much as she would like them to believe. He took a steady breath before speaking. “M’lady, are ye aware that Angus McKenna and his son-in-law are now sittin’ in prison in Edinburgh and that they have been sentenced to hang?”

  He saw it then, just a flash of surprise in her green eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. His instincts were correct. She didn’t know as much as she was letting on.

  “Hanged?” she whispered softly before she waded through the wall of men and began to pace. “But he’s not supposed to hang,” she murmured, still pacing with her eyes cast to the floor, her arms crossed below her bosom. “Nay, that wasna supposed to happen,” she murmured.

  The three men watched as she paced, growing more confused with each statement she uttered. Daniel began to reassess his previous belief that she didn’t know anything.

  “Lass, what do ye mean this was no’ supposed to happen?” Roy asked, unable to keep his curiosity in check any longer.

  Lady Arline gave a quick shake of her head and waved away his question as if he were a pesky bee buzzing around her head. “Allow me to think, please,” she told him gruffly.

  The men looked at one another again. This lass was as confusing a creature as any they’d ever encountered. Daniel was trying to be as patient as he could while the lass paced and mumbled. He couldn’t help to continue wonder where Seamus was.

  After several long moments of pacing and mumbling, Daniel could take no more. “M’lady, we have no’ much time. Angus and Duncan will be taken to Stirling soon, to hang. And their wives are missin’, along with Duncan’s babes. ’Tis verra important that ye tell us why they weren’t supposed to hang.”

  Arline stopped pacing and looked at him as if he were some peculiar object. “Their wives are not missing and neither are their babes.”

  That was news to Daniel and his men. No one had seen Isobel, Aishlinn or the babes since the night the bastards came for Angus and Duncan. As far as any of the three men were aware, no one knew if the women had left voluntarily or if they’d been taken.

  “Ye mean ye ken where they be?” Ronald asked, bewilderedly.

  She refused to answer the question and instead, let out a long, heavy sigh as she studied the three men closely. “I think I should take ye to Carlich now,” she said as she headed toward the door.

  Daniel, Roy, and Ronald were riddled with confusion. Daniel began to wish that he had stayed behind and sent David in his stead. With a shrug of their shoulders, they followed the lovely redheaded lass out of the room.

  Daniel, Roy, and Ronald stood at Carlich Lindsay’s bedside. So stunned were they with the information the auld man had just shared with them that the slightest breeze would have knocked them over.

  “Ye canna be serious, Carlich.” Daniel exclaimed breathlessly.

  “Aye, I am, lad. I need ye to guard me young wife with yer lives. See her safely to Stirling. Scotland, lads, is depending on ye.” It was growing more difficult for Carlich to speak without losing his breath or bringing on a violent coughing spasm.

  Arline sat beside him with a wet cloth. Carlich could not die in peace until he knew that he had done everything he could to see that the wrong was righted.

  Arline bent forward and whispered in her husband’s ear. He responded with an affirmative nod. Without turning away from her husband she spoke over her shoulder to Daniel. “We shall let my husband rest now.”

  The MacDougall men remained quiet while Arline wiped her husband’s brow and gave his arm a gentle pat. “I shall return shortly, husband. I shall leave you to Meg, but I ask that ye rest.”

  For the first time in many weeks, Carlich did not argue with her request. He simply returned her smile and nodded his head slightly before closing his eyes.

  From his vantage point Daniel could tell that Arline held a strong affection for her husband. He wondered briefly at how many women of her age would stay with a man of Carlich’s age, or sit beside his deathbed.

  Arline kissed her husband’s forehead again. She left instructions with Meg, one of the servants, before leading the men out of the room.

  “I’ve never in my life done anything such as what Carlich is askin’ of me.” Arline told the men as she led them down the hallway. “I can only promise ye that I will do my best to be as little trouble to ye as possible.”

  Neither Daniel, Roy nor Ronald liked the idea of escorting the fine young lady to Stirling. It was far too dangerous for such a young lady. Were it anyone but Angus and Duncan’s necks that were at risk, they would have argued more forcefully against the idea. But circumstances being what they were, they knew they had very little choice in the matter.

  Ronald had argued that mayhap Arline should stay behind and allow them to carry the information and the documents to Stirling. But Carlich argued against it. His reasons, when one thought them out, made sense. If men from the MacDougall Clan showed up with the documents, it could be argued that the documents were forged and held nothing more than lies created by men who wanted to help their chief.

  It had to be Lady Arline who presented the documents to Robert Stewart.

  TWELVE

  The wagon taking Angus and Duncan to Stirling was dark and reeked of sweat, urine and fear, no doubt left behind by its prior occupants. The breeze flittering in through the bars did nothing more than swirl the stench. Angus felt that no amount of soap and water would ever get rid of the foul smell. The only solution to getting rid of it would be to set the wagon afire.

  Rain fell steadily against the roof of the wagon. It reminded Angus of ham frying in a skillet, which in turn made his stomach growl and his mouth water. With his eyes closed, he leaned against the wall of the wagon and thought of home.

  What he would not give to be back there, home, to smell baking bread wafting through the air, or better yet, some of Mary’s sweet cakes. He missed everything about Castle Gregor, from the stables to the pastures to Mary’s kitchen to his private chambers and everything in between.

  He could picture the rolling hills and the way the tall grass waved in the breeze. The sound of the wind as it danced through the treetops would seem like music to his ears right now. He could hear the blacksmith banging his hammer against the anvil, sheep bleating from the hill and the newborn calves crying to be fed.

  He pictured the children running from the courtyard to the top of the hill, their laughter floating along the summer breeze, none of them with a care in the world. There were many times, such as now, when he wished he could go back in time and be a child again. He sometimes wondered what he would change and what he would want to remain the same.

  A tremendous sense of melancholy began to settle into his bones as they travelled to Stirling. Angus longed to be home, where he would plunge himself into the loch and take his grandsons fishing.

  Between his blood children and those he adopted, he now had fourt
een grandchildren: eleven boys and three girls. He would miss watching them grow up.

  More than anything else, however, Angus missed his wife. Isobel was as good a woman as could be found. She was beautiful, strong and intelligent. What he would not give to run his fingers through her raven-black hair and breathe in the scent of her, to wrap his arms around her and hold her for eternity.

  He knew he didn’t deserve her. She loved him fiercely and without reserve. He owed her his life, for it was Isobel who had gotten him through the most difficult heartache any man could endure: the loss of the woman he loved and the child she carried. Angus had fallen into a deep depression when he had learned of Laiden’s death. He took to drinking every waking hour of the day. Had Isobel not been there to help him climb out of the abyss, he most assuredly would not be alive today.

  He hadn’t known at the time however, that ’twas all a lie, that the woman he loved and their babe in fact lived. It had been his own brother who had betrayed him, lied to him in order that he could have Laiden for himself.

  There were times when he did wonder how differently his life would have been had he not believed his brother. Had he gone in search of her and found Laiden, he would not now be married to Isobel and they would never have had Bree.

  It amazed him how one small lie, one small act, could affect the lives of countless people. Such as the lie he was now embroiled in. Lies, deceit, and greed -- things he could not abide and had never engaged in until the past few years. Had he known then what he knew now, he might have chosen a different path.

  But as it was, it was too late to change things. He had made his bed and now, he must hang in it.

  THIRTEEN

  While four outriders led the way down a narrow road that snaked around a very large hill, the wagon driver hugged the road to his left. At times, the wheels brushed against the jagged rocks of the hill. He decided it was better to battle against those rocks, than take the risk of falling off the cliff.

  The rain had turned to a light mist some time ago, giving hope that the sun might someday shine again. It would take a fortnight of continuous sunlight to dry out the mud. The horses trudged through thick mud and deeply rutted roads making the journey north all the more perilous and difficult. The driver urged his team of four horses on with threats of turning them into stew if they did not get him safely down the road.

  They were rounding another bend when one of the outriders called out for them to halt. The wagon driver brought his team to an abrupt halt, which jostled his passengers awake.

  Something lay ahead, in the middle of the road, and blocked their passage. From where he sat, he could not see clearly what it was, only that the four outriders had surrounded it. Years of experience warned him something was amiss. He scanned the woods to his right, looking for any sign of trouble. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but he knew that did not necessarily mean all was well.

  It took a few moments for him to realize that it was a child who sat huddled in the middle of the road. The driver could barely make out the child’s wailing as he watched the outriders quickly dismount.

  “What goes on here?” one of the outriders asked the boy.

  Between sobs, the lad cried out his answer. “Our wagon fell off the road!” he wailed as he pointed to the embankment. The remaining guards came to see what had caused the caravan to stop. “Me mum and da and baby sister are trapped!” the lad cried out. His dirty face was streaked with tears and his shoulders continued to shake.

  The men quickly dismounted and without question, started to make their way down the steep drop off to help the injured. It was, mayhap, not the wisest decision they could have made.

  It had been three long years since their last good adventure. Maggy’s boys had grown much in that time. Besides gaining height, weight, and muscles, they had been fortunate enough to train with some of the best Highland warriors in all of Scotland.

  Robert, the oldest, was nearly seven and ten now and taller than his adoptive father, Findley, by two inches. His younger brother Andrew was not nearly as tall, but at four and ten, he was developing muscle and speed. Collin was the same age as Andrew. But where Andrew was stocky, Collin was tall and lean.

  The twins, Liam and Ian, were growing up to be strapping young lads. Much to their mother’s dismay -- but to their adoptive father’s pride -- both had been blessed with a remarkable, natural skill with the sword. ’Twas a talent the lads of almost ten and one took great pleasure in displaying to anyone who would watch. While their mum would have preferred they took up less dangerous pursuits, she could not deny their talent.

  The five boys were quite thankful that the Good Lord had blessed their mum with two daughters to fawn over. With Maggy’s attention focused on their sweet sisters, Deidre and Elizabeth, the boys were able to avoid their mum’s ever-watchful eye and overprotective nature.

  Therefore it had taken Robert completely by surprise when his mum came to him yesterday, with a plan that involved not only Robert and his brothers, but also several women and other children of their clan. Mayhap were he older and wiser he would have attempted to talk his mother out of the ludicrous idea. But he was itching for adventure and quite anxious to put to use the skills he had learned these past few years.

  He had to admit that his mother’s plan was not completely ridiculous. And it was for a good cause he reckoned. If his father hadn’t instilled in the boys the importance of honor, of always doing the right thing -- even when no one was watching -- and to always help those who were less fortunate, they wouldn’t be here right now. Robert supposed his father would have no one to blame but himself. Besides, he was only doing what his mother told him to do -- again, as his father had taught him.

  No matter how he tried to justify his actions this day, he knew deep down his father was going to be angry. And if they somehow managed to succeed with his mother’s plan he also knew Findley would not be able to deny that he was, in fact, quite proud.

  Though Findley never raised a hand to the boys, there were far worse methods of punishment. Robert shuddered when he thought of how many months of cleaning latrines lay in his future. It would be worth it, he believed, if not for honor then for the chance to put his skills to good use

  They had stayed up half the night going over the plan, again and again. Robert had it burned into his memory. He was glad that Findley had taught them how to think on their feet. For a brief moment as they waited beside the road, he wished his father was here to offer assistance. But he knew that if Findley had caught wind of their plan, they would not be here at this moment. Instead, he and his brothers would be back at home trying to keep Deirdre out of trouble.

  Crouched low, hiding in the bushes, Robert wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt and unsheathed his sword. His brothers were well hidden just a few paces away. He could just make out Collin’s form and he knew Andrew was not far from Collin.

  Please, God, let everything go accordin’ to plan, Robert thought quietly. And please, if ye could, let da no’ be too angry with what we are about to do.

  Angus and Duncan had no way of knowing what was happening. Apparently, whatever was happening was happening ahead of them. Puzzled, they looked at one another, shrugged their shoulders and went to the side of the wagon to get a better look. They were too far away from the commotion to see anything, but they could hear. Someone was shouting, but it was too muffled to make out what was being said. A moment later, the guards who had been following behind them kicked their horses and headed past the wagon and toward the ruckus.

  “What do ye suppose is happenin’?” Duncan asked.

  Angus’ brow creased as he shook his head. “I dunnae,” he answered. “But I think those guards will be in a heap of trouble if anyone learns they left their posts.”

  As they sat next to one another, straining their ears to listen, another commotion broke out. Suddenly, the wagon was being rocked back and forth, jostling the two men into one another. More shouting commenced as the wagon continued to r
ock back and forth.

  “Do ye hear that, Angus?” Duncan asked.

  “Aye, I hear it,” he answered in disbelief. Some of the shouts sounded quite feminine while others sounded like they belonged to children. “What the bloody hell?” he whispered under his breath.

  Finally, the wagon stopped its rocking and the air around them became quiet. They still could not see what had happened and the mounted guards had yet to return. Time passed in relative confusion. Angus and Duncan continued to listen.

  Then the wagon suddenly bolted forward, throwing Angus and Duncan into the gate. As the horses pulled them along, they passed by a most befuddling site. Lining the side of the road were the mounted guards, as naked as the day they were born, with hands and feet bound and pieces of cloth either tied around their mouths or stuffed into them.

 

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