Highland Avenger

by Hannah Howell

  “That was some verra poorly done sneaking about for a MacFingal,” said Sigimor as he shut the door he had been peeking out of and looked at the four other men in the room. “Going to drag him out of there?”

  “Nay,” said Brett as he sprawled on the narrow bed he had been given. “She is a widow of three and twenty, nay some innocent maid.”

  “True, but I am surprised that ye are being so reasonable. Nay sure I believe that is the only reason ye are nay all trying to rush out and beat my poor cousin into the floor. Unless, ’tis a wise fear that I will attempt to protect the fool with my deadly fists and lethal skill with a sword.” He grinned when all four men glared at him.

  “He makes her happy,” said Callum. “I think she hasnae been happy for a verra long time and I willnae take that from her. ’Tis just a shame he is such an idiot. Ye would think such a weel-bred, highborn lass would have chosen more wisely.”

  Sigimor shook his head. “Aye, he is an idiot.”

  “Weel, we will allow him to remain one unless it begins to cause our wee cousin pain.”

  “And then what will ye do?”

  “Drag him outside and pound him into the mud until that idiocy is pummeled right out of his thick skull.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Chapter 18

  “Send out the boys and the woman and we will ride away!”

  “What boys and woman are ye talking about? We have a lot of them!”

  Despite the thick walls and how high up the MacFingals stood on those walls, Arianna could hear everything from where she sat on the wide stone steps leading into the keep, and she winced at the mockery in Sir Fingal’s voice. That was not going to calm the belligerence of the men gathered before the gates of Scarglas. The laughter of the men on the walls was undoubtedly salt in the wound to the overweening pride of Lord Ignace and Amiel.

  “I dinnae understand why they didnae just attack them by that berm,” muttered Fiona as she paced back and forth before the steps of the keep.

  “They have a plan,” Arianna said.

  Fiona snorted, stopped pacing, and placed her hands on her hips. “I ken it. I just wanted this done with quickly. They obviously wanted to play with the Frenchmen first. Men. They are all idiots.”

  “It does appear so at times.” She and Fiona both grinned briefly, and then Arianna sighed. “I still have nay thought of a real good reason for all of this. Weel, aside from the fact that Amiel has obviously lost his mind.”

  “Didnae Brian tell ye what the laddies said?” Fiona asked as she sat on the steps beside Arianna. “The lads told us something the night ye and Brian arrived that might explain it all.”

  “Nay, he didnae tell me that he may have finally discovered the why for all of this. He had to know I would have liked the answers to all the questions I have had ever since this began.”

  And Arianna was furious about that. Did Brian think her too weak to hear the truth? That thought infuriated her. It was a moment before she calmed down enough to look at Brian’s apparent secrecy with some clarity. Whatever the boys had told him, they had done so only two nights ago. Neither she nor Brian had talked that night, falling asleep the moment they were in bed. The next morning her kin had arrived and the keep had begun readying itself for an attack. He could have said something when he slipped into her bedchamber last night but she could not complain about how they had spent the time together before he had had to creep away. Looking at it all very carefully and calmly, she could see no true crime or affront, just a little negligence.

  “What did Michel and Adelar tell him?” she finally asked Fiona.

  “All done being angry?”

  “Aye. I dinnae think he planned to keep any secrets from me and it was the thought that he had that made me angry.”

  “Nay, he was just being a mon.” She grinned when Arianna laughed. “It seems your wee laddies may be kin to the king of France.”

  “Why would Michel and Adelar think that?”

  “Their mother told them. She said their father was the first cousin to the king.”

  A chill of fear for her boys turned Arianna’s insides to ice. “Nay. Marie Anne always boasted that she was sired by a high noble but she ne’er once claimed kinship with the king himself. She could ne’er have kept such a thing a secret. She was the sort of woman who would have heralded that from the highest hill if she had kenned that it was true.”

  “Nay if it would cost her in some way, as I suspect it would. Mayhap her mother was given money or this Marie Anne was. Enough coin a year, as a living, to be worth the keeping of such a secret. A good hard threat would be enough to silence her as weel. And we both ken that few nobles support their bastards, let alone one born of some poor village lass.”

  “True, curse them.” Arianna thought it over for a moment. “I dinnae think Amiel kens it. Marie Anne must have told Claud, though.”

  “If she told him, he would understand the need to keep it secret as weel.”

  “I have to wonder now if Amiel does ken it.”

  “If he does ken it, he would also ken that the power that noble could wield could prove enough to stop the Lucettes from annulling Claud’s marriage to Marie Anne and making his grandchildren bastards. S’truth, the noble might see all manner of advantages to ensuring that his grandchildren profit weel from it.”

  “Jesu, ye are right. I can see it now. Aye, Amiel does ken it. There were a lot of small wounds upon Claud’s body and I thought whoever had killed him had tried to gain more coin than Claud had with him. But it seems Amiel had his own brother tortured, whether for the pleasure of it or to find out something, who can say. But once he kenned that there could be strong opposition to the annulment, he became set upon killing the boys. If Lord Ignace also kens who sired Marie Anne, though, he will nay want the boys dead. He will have some plan to make use of them.”

  “In other words, there is a verra good chance that DeVeau has planned to betray Lucette from the verra beginning.”

  “I wouldnae be surprised. DeVeau doesnae need the lads dead; he can just force their guardian to sell his family back the land they want for a pittance.”

  “That guardian being you.”

  “Aye, and trying to capture me to get that makes far more sense than them trying to get me to extract some vengeance upon my family for what happened long ago.”

  “DeVeau gets his hands on ye and he could achieve both those things. But, that is nay longer a concern. He will nay leave Scarglas.”

  “Killing Lord Ignace could make the DeVeaux seek vengeance against ye and yours.”

  Fiona shrugged. “If they do, we will deal with them.”

  “They can be a vicious, tenacious enemy.”

  “Who live in France. And, e’en if they send someone to take revenge, we can deal with them. I am certain Brian told ye some of his clan’s history, if only to explain this place.” Arianna nodded and Fiona continued, “Weel, my clan the MacEnroys didnae have any better a life. It was one of three clans that fought until little was left but ruins and graves, and all the remnants of the clans who were struggling to rebuild were nearly destroyed by treachery. My own uncle tried to stir up the killing again and had actually had a part in what had nearly killed us all before. So, treachery, enemies determined to kill us, plots, and lies?” Fiona shrugged. “Naught a thing that we have nay faced before and survived.”

  “I had heard that my cousin Gillyanne had wed a mon with a dark past. But ...”

  “Nay. The men out there wish to drag three innocents into their plots, think naught of killing two wee lads just to gain more coin, more land, or more power. Any right-thinking mon would fight against that.”

  There was no arguing that. Arianna had clung to the hope that there would be no battle, that at some point her pursuers would decide they were simply wasting their time and retreat. She knew that, from the beginning, she had ignored that little voice in her head warning her that it was all so much more complicated than just Amiel wanting to be the heir. Sh
e looked up at the men lining the walls of Scarglas who still taunted Amiel and Lord Ignace.

  “I just wish they didnae act as if they enjoyed the thought of battle so much,” Arianna murmured.

  “Ach, weel, they actually do at the start. They are men and men are a strange lot.”

  “True. Verra true.” She laughed along with Fiona.

  “Why havenae Fiona and Arianna gone inside?” Brian asked Ewan.

  “They are safe enough where they are,” replied Ewan, his gaze fixed upon the men confronting them.

  “Nay if someone begins to shoot arrows o’er the wall.”

  “I see no archers, Brian.”

  “They had a couple at Dubheidland.”

  “Ye and Sigimor must have killed them.”

  “They would still be safer inside instead of right down there where they can hear and smell the battle.”

  Ewan looked at his brother, leaving the verbal harassment of the enemy to his father and other brothers. “I believe my wife is weel acquainted with the sight and sound of battle. Now, Arianna may nay carry knives all o’er as my loving wife does, but I suspicion she is also acquainted with the scent and sound of battle.”

  “They may be acquainted with it but that doesnae mean they have to face it when they could go inside the keep.”

  “Dinnae worry. Fiona will go in soon and take your lass with her. She will be safe.” He looked down at the men gathered before the walls of Scarglas. “They are so busy making demands they havenae noticed our men at all.”

  Deciding he would get no help in making Arianna go inside, Brian also turned his attention to Lucette, DeVeau, and their hirelings. He could see at least two score men who were undoubtedly well-trained men-at-arms. The rest were just men with swords who thought joining this fight was worth the few coins they got. Even the trained men did not notice that they were now surrounded, but then the MacFingals and their cousins were also well trained.

  “I would think it time to start this rout,” Brian said.

  “A few more minutes. Our fither is having fun.”

  “My lord,” said DeVeau.

  “Och, I am nay the laird,” said Sir Fingal. “He is.” He pointed at Ewan.

  The look on DeVeau’s face told Brian that the man would probably give his soul to be able to get his hands on old Fingal. It was an expression all Fingal’s sons, and many another who met their father, had worn at some time or another. The man’s skill at keeping someone intent on winning an argument with him was just the skill they had needed, however. While Lucette and DeVeau had tried to talk reason to Fingal, Scarglas men and their allies had slipped out, using the berm as shelter as they had slowly encircled DeVeau and his men.

  DeVeau turned his attention to Ewan. “You should have spoken up.”

  “Why? Ye were nay saying anything I was interested in.”

  “Enough of this!” Lucette yelled. “Those boys are my nephews. They are French and we intend to take them back to their home. You have no right to them.”

  “Nor do ye. They are where they belong. With their guardian.”

  “My brother was mad. No one appoints a woman to be a guardian. The courts will end that insane arrangement.”

  “Then bring me the court’s demand and I might think on it.” Ewan glanced at Brian and said quietly, “Time to go down to the gates. Sigimor is waiting for my signal. I will give it as soon as ye and the others are in place. Wish I could join ye in killing these arrogant fools, but if I leave they may pause to finally look around.”

  Brian hurried down to the bailey. Once Ewan gave the signal everything would happen fast for Sigimor would give that fierce battle cry of his and all the men hiding behind the berm would be over it. It was Brian’s intention to be the first one to get to Lucette. The man needed to pay for what he had done to Arianna.

  The thought of Arianna had him looking toward the steps to the keep. He was pleased to see that she and Fiona had gone back inside. Once the gates were opened to let him and his men out, it would no longer be safe for the women to be outside the keep.

  Brian mounted one of the waiting horses and looked at Callum as the man moved up beside him. “Thought ye would be with Sigimor and the others,” he said.

  “Changed my mind.” Callum smiled but there was a coldness to it that told Brian this man would be a real threat to anyone who got in his way. “Much prefer being mounted to start the fight.” He patted his horse’s neck.

  “Lucette is mine.”

  Callum just smiled again but before Brian could demand the man give his word not to go after Lucette, Sigimor’s battle cry rent the air. The gates were swung open and Brian had a brief glimpse of the horrified looks on the faces of the Frenchmen before he fixed his gaze on Lucette and charged.

  It did not surprise Brian when Lucette attempted to turn and flee. Any man who beat a woman usually proved himself a coward when faced with a man. He rode in front of the man, cutting off his retreat. Lucette quickly proved himself a poor rider as well, yanking on his mount’s reins until the horse reared and tumbled Lucette into the dirt. Brian was down and facing him by the time Lucette scrambled to his feet.

  “I surrender!” cried Lucette, and fumbled to pull his sword out of its sheath.

  Brian was briefly tempted to just kill the fool and turn away to help the others. He watched Lucette carefully, however, for the man could be acting inept in order to lull him into a dangerous sense of ease. Although it was hard to believe anyone could act that well.

  “There is nay surrender for ye, Lucette,” Brian said. “Ye die here.”

  “Ye can keep the boys and that bitch.”

  “I intend to. But, I am thinking ye ken too much to be allowed to go back home. And ye dug your own grave the first time ye struck Arianna.”

  Lucette drew his sword and the way the man did it, his eyes narrowing, told Brian he had been right to be cautious. He had no doubt he would defeat the man but was pleased to see that it might well be a fight instead of an easy kill. Brian wanted Lucette to sweat before he died.

  When Lucette attacked, Brian was ready for him. He was a little surprised at the skill the man revealed but then fixed his mind on ending Lucette’s life. Lucette proved nimble and it was not long before they were both bleeding from several small injuries. But Lucette was already weakening, sweat stinging his eyes and his chest heaving with the effort to breathe.

  “You do not even understand the worth of what you fight for,” Lucette said as he and Brian circled each other. “Those whelps are related to the king of France. They need to go back to claim their heritage.”

  “All ye want to give them is death, Lucette.” This time when their swords clashed, only Lucette bled.

  “You could make a fortune off them, fool.”

  “Mayhap, but I still want ye dead.”

  “For the sake of that stupid bitch? My brother did not even linger in her bed the few times he did what he had to to please our parents. He found the attentions of a coarse village whore more entertaining than Lady Arianna. Or do you think to get the dowry that she had? Too late. It is gone.”

  “I will leave the settling of that to the Murrays. All I want is to kill the coward that beats women half his size.”

  Lucette bellowed out his fury and frustration and charged. It was not hard to use that blind anger against the man. After a furious clash of swords, Brian quickly cut the man down. He was standing there, panting a little, and staring down at Lucette’s body when a warning cry drew his attention. He started to turn toward it and the man attacking him from behind caught him in the side instead of through the back. The cold fire of steel in his side nearly brought Brian to his knees, but he held firm and easily cut the other man down.

  Chaos ruled all around him. Breathing slowly and deeply, Brian fought the pain as he studied the battle. Some of the Scots were slipping away, retreating as fast as they could. He could see that Sigimor and his men merely kept an eye on any of the hired swords who looked to be escaping the trap,
but held all the Frenchmen firmly within the berm.

  Determined to hold fast until it was over, Brian began to make his way to where Sigimor, Callum, and Harcourt were cutting down the French guard around DeVeau. DeVeau showed far more skill than Lucette but he was clearly tiring. By the time Brian was close enough to hear what little was being said, DeVeau stood with only two men and was trying to bargain for his life.

  “Wait,” Brian said as he moved to stand next to Sigimor.

  “Thought ye wanted all the Frenchmen dead,” said Sigimor.

  “I certainly have nay trouble ending the life of a DeVeau,” said Harcourt.

  “I ken it, but why add to the feud when ye may nay have to? It is a feud that has grown cold. Killing another DeVeau could change that,” said Brian. “Ye ken why we want ye all dead?” he said to DeVeau.

  “So that the children remain lost,” said Lord Ignace.

  “Aye, so that this threat to them ends here. Now, which Lord Ignace are ye? The winemaker or the torturer?”

  “Ah, the winemaker. The name is a curse but fortunately I travel to few of the places where my notorious cousin has been.”

  Brian believed him. “Then ’tis up to ye whether it ends with ye walking away or being buried.”

  “Naturally, I would prefer to walk away.”

  The man was a lot younger than Brian had thought, even though he now knew him to be the winemaker. He doubted Lord Ignace was much older than Ned. If the DeVeaux knew of the value of the boys, surely they would have sent someone older and more experienced, he thought. One who would not have ended up in what, to an experienced warrior, was an obvious trap.

  “How many of your people ken the truth?”

  “Three. Me, my uncle, and my mother. When Lucette came to us, he spoke mostly with my mother so I am not exactly certain how much my uncle knows. My mother does not like or trust my uncle. My uncle, he prefers to work with the grapes.”

  “Jesu,” muttered Sigimor. “Beginning to think some of these French have families a lot worse than ours.”