Sighing deeply, he let his mind take in what Kendrix had just said. Elisabeth, his wife, the love of his life was carrying his child, “I’m sorry Kendrix, ye are right. I have no right to be angry with you.”
“Trust her Broderick, for once in your life when she comes, trust that she has a plan. I would imagine at this very moment she is planning and plotting, I’ve known no one who possesses the ability to read enemies and have such brilliant plans, not even our grandfather. Whatever happens, trust that it is all in her plan. Kincaid is no match for her; she will protect your babe with her very life, as she will do the same for the three of us prisoners. All we have to do is simply wait for her well laid plans to unfold and get her and Isobel out of here alive. I have complete faith she will save Isobel; there is no doubt in my mind. Nothing will stop her Broderick, nothing.”
The cold winter wind nipped at his face as he rested his head against the pole he was tied to, reflecting on his brother’s words “I am to be a father?”
“It appears you are the husband to the future Queen of England, and father to the heir of the MacMillan Clan. You are married to The Warrior Queen of Scotland who carries your babe in her womb; brace yourself Broderick, life just got very interesting for ye Brother.” Kendrix playfully announced softly so only Broderick could hear.
“I dinnae deserve her.” Broderick admitted, ashamed for the way he had treated her. How much he wished he could take it all back, to fix his wrong doings and make it right with her this very moment. Time and time again he had reacted poorly, and every time she forgave him, would she forgive him this time?
“You will be able to spend the rest of your life proving to her that you do, get some rest Broderick, I have a feeling The Warrior Queen of Scotland rides our way, and she is very angry.”
Chapter 18
Waking to the insistent pounding upon her door, Elisabeth pushed herself off the floor of her cold solar and rubbed her face as she shouted, “Who is there?”
“Tis Rhona my lady, open the door!”
The panic in Rhona’s voice made her snap to attention, popping up off the floor she swung the bolt free and pulled the door open. Before her the elder lady was in tears holding a letter in a shaking hand.
“Broderick left hours ago Elisabeth, in search of Kendrix who had ridden out of the gates on his stallion, they think little Isobel followed them without their knowledge. They cannae be found,” reaching out she gave the letter to Elisabeth with a trembling hand, “this arrived moments ago from a Douglas messenger, my heart tells me something is wrong Elisabeth, very wrong. I can feel in me bones, just like when the boys’ parents died.”
Taking in the information Rhona shared, the time line and premonition, she pulled her dagger out and opened the letter and read the words of her most hated enemy, Kincaid.
Elisabeth,
I have what you want, all three of them.
I will trade your life for theirs.
Hurry, Isobel misses her Aunt.
Kincaid
“Fuck!” She roared as she crumbled the letter in her fist, her heart pounded in rage. How had this happened? How had he captured them?
Kincaid had taken the only family she had left. He taunted her, and he had given her exactly what she needed to avenge her family, even in her condition. Nothing could stop her from descending upon Kincaid and his men, she would raise Broderick’s army of warriors and she would rain cold death upon the Douglas clan. The man had signed his own death warrant.
“Rhona, call to Ajax, I need him to order the army up, we ride within the hour, they have my family and I want them back!” She exclaimed as she started to pull at her blood soaked tattered dress she had slept in. Jaw clenched, she saw red. The time to act was now, all the weeks, all the heartbreak led to this. Tonight she would see that man die; Kincaid would meet his maker tonight.
“Yes my lady, at once!” Rhona turned to run down the stairs. The wolfhounds came bounding up the stone stairs and ran to Elisabeth’s side. Watching Rhona disappear down the stairs, Elisabeth looked down at her shaggy hounds in despair.
“Ye are not with them? Jesu!” Turning she pulled her broadsword out of her belt and slammed it on the table, ignoring the sting in her upper arm where Kendrix had cut her earlier she focused on the task at hand-preparing for war. Ripping her shredded gown off of her she moved quickly as she selected her items to bring.
Stripping naked she looked down at her still flat stomach and ran a tentative hand over her womb, closing her eyes she prayed Broderick would understand. Kincaid had given her no choice; she could not sit by and send the warriors without a leader. Kincaid had taken three people she loved, and she would ride into hell to save them, even carrying Broderick’s child. Taking a soothing breath, she opened her eyes and pushed aside the thought of being with child, she needed to transform into The Warrior Queen of Scotland.
The words of her brother ran in her mind. Focus on your goal, push aside fear and doubt. Calm your heart and mind, become one with your weapon and keep your eye on the prize Sister. Duncan’s words echoed within her, nodding to herself she opened her eyes and knew what she had to do. Pulling on a fresh pair of warm tights she quickly dressed, grabbing a new gown Rhona had modified for her, she smiled as she focused her body and mind.
It was a gown fit for a queen, but designed for a warrior. She had full movement in the arms and shoulders; hidden pockets were sewed in by Rhona to allow for weapons to be hidden. The dress was regal, yet it did not hinder her movements at all.
Sliding it over her shoulders, she set to the laces that were fitted down her sides, which allowed her to dress without assistance. Once secured, she lifted her skirts and slipped on her leather huntsman boots, lacing them with efficient grace she slipped several daggers into each boot. In the cold distance, she heard the signal to arms; her men would be ready and waiting soon. Lovingly placing Broderick’s tartan across her chest, it fell gracefully over her left shoulder she walked over to her armor.
Standing before her wardrobe she picked up her hand tooled leather bracers that Broderick had made and pulled them on one by one, lacing them tightly around her slim wrists. Picking up her leather belt, she strapped it securely around her waist, before her was a mass collection of weapons to choose from. She needed to prepare herself for anything, yet could not be hindered by heavy weight, hence the reason she refused to wear her chainmail. She needed her speed more than ever. Eyeing her weapons, she looked at the lethal blades Broderick had made with his own skillful hands; tears welled in her eyes as she thought about him. He had been so angry, so hurtful, and so wrong; yet, she loved him and would still give her life for him.
Whatever had caused his accusations would be dealt with in time, his life, along with Kendrix and Isobel’s now hung in the balance, her only goal was to see them rescued and deliver sweet vengeance upon Kincaid and his men. As she attached each weapon to her side, she stood a little taller, felt stronger and more confident. She was The Warrior Queen of Scotland, and she would kill anyone who stood in her way.
Running her hands through her mess of locks, she plaited her long red hair and coiled it upon her head, grinning; she leaned into her wardrobe and pulled out the golden circlet that belonged to Broderick’s mother. Placing it in her crown of red curls, she secured the beautiful piece. Grabbing Broderick’s black sable fur she swung it over her shoulders and latched it closed.
Gently grabbing her trusty bow, she angled it over her shoulder so the string ran between her breasts, strapping on her quiver full of specialized arrows she adjusted it until it was perfect. Closing her eyes and clasping her hands she knelt quickly and sent up a prayer to the heavens and to her parents and brother, today more than any she needed their guidance and watchful eyes. Tonight she would avenge their souls.
Slowly rising, she opened her eyes with determination. Signaling the hounds, she walked out of her solar and quickly made her way down through the keep.
The castle was alive with activity; it was no
w common knowledge that Kincaid and his men had captured Laird MacMillan, Kendrix and little Isobel. Pushing the double wooden doors to the castle open with force, Elisabeth marched out of the keep with her wolfhounds at her side into the dark night.
The sight before her stopped her in her tracks.
The entire MacMillan army was before her, in full amour, saddled and waiting in perfect rows, their eyes upon her. Her warhorse was saddled and being held by Ajax, Kendrix’s first in command at the front of the warriors.
Standing upon the top of the castle stairs, she looked out at the hundreds and hundreds of battle hardened warriors before her and her chest expanded with pride. Broderick foretold of a time when she would need to lead his army, tonight was that night.
Nodding to the fine warriors before her, she walked down into the torch lit bailey towards Ajax and her stallion. Head held high, she swung up into her saddle easily and took the reins from Ajax who mounted his horse as well. Addressing Ajax with a few vital questions, “Ajax, do we know where they are being held? How many men did you leave behind to guard the castle?” She questioned quietly to giant blonde warrior.
“West of us, under the shadow of the Glenmore Mountain, he has a camp set up. We were able to get a rough number of close to two hundred warriors with him; he’s been there for weeks. The messenger was more than happy to divulge the information rather than dying, he also spoke of a woman who arrived a day ago, a woman by the name of Siobhan.” His voice was dripping with hatred as he said her name.
“I am going to kill that bitch with my own hands!” She vowed. Hot rage lanced through her as she took stock of the situation. Since the moment she had found out that Kincaid had her family, plans began to form in her head.
“I’ve ordered two hundred men to stay behind, before you are three hundred of our finest warriors my lady, is that sufficient?” Ajax questioned scanning over rows of warriors.
“Aye Ajax, you’ve done well. I do not want to leave the castle prey to a secondary attack if this is a ploy to get us to vacate.” She declared, turning her horse so she was facing the warriors. She needed to address her army.
The wind whipped as she sat upon her stallion looking over the countless warriors dressed for battle, the large moon cast an eerie light upon their faces as she began to speak, “Kincaid has captured your Laird, Kendrix and his daughter Isobel. I want my family back! Tonight we ride, tonight we shall see the end of Laird Kincaid’s tyranny, and tonight he shall die!” Her voice carried through the bailey with rampant fury; the warriors shouted their battle cry in unison as she stood before them. Every soul before her was bloodthirsty for vengeance, every man before her wanted Kincaid dead.
Quickly informing them of her unique plan, she ordered the drawbridge to be lowered and then sealed upon their exit. The warriors left at the castle would defend it with their life. With Ajax at her side, she led the hundreds of warriors out of the protection of Castle MacMillan and set their course for a hard ride through the night to Glenmore Mountain, she had a rat to kill. If Kincaid Douglas wanted her, by god he could have her, and it would mean his death.
Their journey took them west upon the treacherous course to Glenmore Mountain, a small range of craggy peaks. It wasn’t long before they found the tracks of previous riders, only hours behind the messenger they stormed through the moonlit forest, racing against the frozen wind. The army of kilted warriors rode at her side, armed and ready to wage war once again. Confident in her plan and the men at her side she ran though the plans in her mind as her horse pounded through the snow, Conn and Isla at her flank. She calculated for every possible scenario imaginable, over and over again in her head she ran through the details.
Long before they reached the camp, Elisabeth gave quick hand signals to the warriors, splitting; the warriors rode off in two different directions, disappearing into the forest before her. Leaving her alone with her wolfhounds in the middle of the forest just before the foothills of the mountain. She would make a solo entrance while her army circled around the camp; she needed to give them time to slowly approach, her long distance archers needed to be within distance when the time came. They would slowly creep towards the camp as she finished the ride by herself.
Spurring her stallion forward, she rode in the direction of Kincaid’s makeshift camp. The last leg of her journey was eerie as her dogs trotted along side of her; the moon was high in the sky casting shadows upon the forest in the foothills of the mountain. Holding her head high she focused on the three lives ahead of her, she thought of each of them as she rode towards the camp. She prayed Isobel was safe and unharmed, she had heard vile stories of Douglas men raping younglings.
Soon enough, Kincaid’s lookouts would spot her, just as she intended. She was the distraction so her men could surround the camp. She would ride upon Kincaid’s camp as if she was surrendering herself, just like he wanted.
Chapter 19
Broderick sat motionless against the large pole next to his brother, he had not been able to sleep, but he did keep his eyes closed and listened. The sound he had been waiting for ignited his senses; beside him he could sense his brother feeling much the same.
The Douglas guard blew loud on the horn, signaling movement in the woods; one by one warrior after warrior ran out of their tents, swords raised awaiting Kincaid’s order. Broderick noticed Kincaid’s tent door slowly pulled back, exiting, Kincaid had a wicked grin on his evil face, like a cat that had just caught a fat mouse.
“My Laird! A lone rider approaches!” The guard called, his voice echoed against the mountainous wall.
Immediately Broderick started to panic, did she really think Kincaid would offer a trade? Was she surrendering? They’d all be murdered.
Beside him, he heard his brother’s raspy voice, “Trust her Broderick. For once in your damn life trust her. You want to prove you deserve her? Trust her.”
Clenching his jaw he knew his brother spoke nothing but the truth, shooting a prayer up to God, he nodded to his brother and watched the Douglas warriors assemble behind their Laird. All around them Douglas warriors poured from their tents armed for battle.
Kincaid tossed his plaid haphazardly across his chest and ordered the fires stirred as he took his place on the throne before his tent, beside him Siobhan joined him, now holding a drowsy Isobel in front of her skirts. Broderick kept his focus on Kincaid and Isobel who were directly before him. Beside him, Kendrix did the same.
Again, the guards beckoned as the rider came closer into view, “Tis the Warrior Queen my Laird, riding just as pretty as she pleases with her wolfhounds, the forest is free of her warriors, she be alone!”
Kincaid raked his eyes over the MacMillan brothers and laughed, “So easily she gives up, thinking I would let any of you live. Now she’ll get the joy of seeing you all die before her, just like her first family.” His maniacal laugh echoed under the mountains.
Straining against his ropes, Broderick’s muscles flexed in response to Kincaid’s sickening words, Isobel looked desperately at her father and him as she struggled under Siobhan’s tight grip.
Kincaid commanded to his guards, “Let her come, lower your weapons men and lets see what the lovely Warrior Queen of Scotland has to say!”
Broderick and Kendrix had their backs turned to her; unable to watch her entrance they instead watched Isobel and the warriors before them as she quietly rode into camp.
***
As Elisabeth approached she felt as if her heart was going to escape her chest as she made the last descent into the now blazing bright camp ahead of her. In the forest she had seen guards alert camp of her arrival. Without walls, she could easily see their shadows against the fires, warriors assembled in the circular camp. Scanning the camp from afar, she spotted the two poles in the center of camp, assuming the men attached to them were Broderick and Kendrix.
Taking a bracing breath, she spurred her stallion into the night, her destiny was before her. She had a vow to fulfill and a family to save. With reven
ge in her heart, and courage running through her veins she set her horse into a full gallop as she pounded towards them.
Riding into camp, she saw quickly assessed the situation at hand. Kincaid was sitting arrogantly on a large wooden throne, beside him stood Siobhan and Isobel. In the center of camp Broderick and Kincaid were latched to large poles, still alive. All three of them were still alive; breathing a sigh of relief she focused on her next objective.
Entering the large circle behind Broderick and Kendrix, she brought her large horse to a halt as she kept her eyes on Kincaid. Dismounting, her feet hit the ground with little sound; her beautiful green gown flowed freely around her feet.
Hands ready, she slowly approached Kincaid, choosing to walk directly between Broderick and Kendrix’s poles. Pausing between them, she cast a gaze to each man, looking at her husband last, “I love you Broderick, please forgive me.” She whispered, silently ordering the wolfhounds to stay beside the brothers, she continued forward, her attention solely on Kincaid, Siobhan, and Isobel.
Behind her, she heard Broderick shout, “Elisabeth, no!”
Ignoring his plea, she continued forward and eyed the scar faced Douglas Laird with contempt and hatred. As she approached, she stopped so Kendrix and Broderick were behind her and Kincaid was directly in front of her, she stood between the men. Elisabeth saw Isobel lurch towards her trying to escape Siobhan’s hold to get to her. Siobhan quickly pulled Isobel’s hair and drug her back over to Kincaid, Isobel screamed in protest as she screamed for Elisabeth.
“Siobhan, release my niece at once!” She ordered with authority, her voice vibrated through the camp.
Pulling the child close, Siobhan smiled at her as she twisted the child’s hair, “Ye have no power here woman!” Pulling Isobel’s hair harder just to prove her point, she cackled in response to Elisabeth’s request.
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