He hurried away and down a corridor to Catriona’s bedchamber. Praying she’d be alone, he knocked on the door.
There was no answer, even after the second and third time. Perhaps she’d gone to the ladies’ sitting room. It was late and he doubted she would be anywhere other than perhaps Esme’s bedchamber.
When he turned away, a sound inside the room caught his attention. Catriona was in the room. Why did she not open the door?
He tried the handle and the door opened. Catriona stood by the window looking out. Even when he called her name, she did not turn.
“Is something wrong?” Ewan asked, walking to her. He stopped when she turned and held out both hands, palms facing him.
Hitching her chin, she met his gaze. “I have much to thank ye for. It is because of ye that I can leave the confines of a room and was brave enough to come here. Ye have made me realize that I am stronger than what those bastards did to me.”
Something about her tone sent warnings through him. Whatever had caused her to become so different, he needed to know.
“Ye are strong.”
“I am stronger, but not who I once was.” She let out a long breath. “I have made a decision that ye must be informed about.”
Ewan searched her eyes for whatever she was about to say. Instead of the normal warmth and softness, all he could see was pain.
“Tell me what happened, Catriona.”
She swallowed, managing to remain stoic. “I have decided not to marry ye. If I do get married, it will be to Broden.”
The room swayed and he reached out with both hands to steady himself. Of course, he’d heard her wrong. It was glaringly obvious that Catriona didn’t care for Broden as more than a friend, a brother.
“What did ye say?”
“I cannot marry ye, Ewan. I wish to remain with my clan, my family. It is preferable that when he asks, I marry Broden. He and I are from the same clan. He will keep me safe.”
Betrayal was not a stranger to him. In that instant, Catriona betrayed him, perhaps not in actions, but in closing her heart to him.
In that moment, it was as if ice enveloped him. It was not the first time someone he loved had turned against him. Didn’t consider him valuable enough to choose.
There was nothing to say. He would not beg, nor would he allow the woman who stood in front of him the satisfaction to see him break down.
He nodded, meeting her gaze evenly. “I wish ye well then.”
Somehow, he managed to walk to his bedchamber without breaking stride and then barely past his doorway, Ewan fell to his knees, tears that he’d somehow held back bursting like rivers down his cheeks.
Pain tore through him and he let go, falling sideways onto the floor. More than anything, he wanted to release a primal yell, to scream out how he felt, but someone would overhear, and he didn’t want any witnesses to his foolishness. How audacious of him to think someone would love him and remain true.
How utterly, utterly stupid of him.
***
The ride to the northernmost portion of Ross lands was long. Ewan knew the group he traveled with purposely rode slowly. A party of two hundred warriors and fifty archers were a sight to behold. Surely the Sutherland would not have a problem getting the message that they were more than ready for battle.
The sounds reached them and then a large contingent of Sutherlands appeared.
Warring was never something Ewan relished and, yet, it had a beauty to it. The calculated movements were like a dance between two armies. The sounds the horses made because they sensed the tension of their riders. The climactic moment when both parties rushed at each other with primal yells that broke the silence of the surroundings like thunder from the skies.
From then on, it was not at all pretty. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It became garish and horrible. Men’s battle cries turned to screams of pain. Horses fell sideways, their thick red blood staining the ground.
He kept Ban back. The stallion was anxious to run. But like the rest of the archers, Ewan was to remain behind the flanks of men with swords and battle axes.
Naill held the archer line tight, just behind the warriors and called for them to stop and fan out on a well-planned slight incline. From there, they could fire arrows at will, hoping to hit enemy warriors. While half the archers shot arrows at the men fighting, he and the other half focused on the enemy’s archer line.
Ewan narrowed his eyes and pulled back. In his bow were three arrows that would fell a man, immediately killing him.
He released the arrows and, seconds later, his victim collapsed forward and onto the ground from atop a horse.
Just then, Naill toppled from his horse. No one tried to help him. This was not the time to care after casualties, but to continue in their fight.
Warnings were cried out by the Sutherland warriors as a second wave of Ross warriors arrived. The men from the northern guard post had received notice and rode toward them, hungry for a taste of battle after long days of watch.
It was not much longer before those left of Clan Sutherland called retreat and did their best to gather their wounded before escaping.
The causalities were plenty on both sides, although most of the dead were Sutherland men.
Ewan and the rest of the archers kept vigil while the men below sought out the injured. It was hours later that they set up camp just a short distance away.
“We will stay and ensure they do not return,” Naill said while being tended to by a healer.
“It is doubtful they will,” Tristan said, waiting for someone to see about a cut on his leg. “They have to travel much further, and their numbers are not as plentiful.”
Clan Sutherland’s lands bordered the Ross’ northern border. Looking to grow his territory, the Sutherland did not care about the loss of men. It made little sense to be at war with all the surrounding clans, but the man’s greed was out of control and it seemed no one in his clan did anything to stop him.
That night while the men ate, Tristan shouted out orders for who would remain on watch at which times.
Ewan volunteered to take the first shift as he doubted he would be able to sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was Catriona’s face. Her stoic expression as she’d broken his heart. It was as if she’d not known him at all.
He walked to a tree and looked up at the night sky. It was a clear night, the sky filled with stars. For a while, he traced patterns, noting some he’d seen many times before. Although he had no idea if they had names, it was comforting to see the familiar formations.
Tristan approached and looked up to the sky. “See anything interesting?”
“I like looking at the stars,” Ewan replied. “How is Naill?”
“He’s asleep. The healer managed to get him to drink something that would make him rest.”
The man was married with two children, which made it important for him to return home alive. It was an unspoken truth, often warriors did their best to ensure the married ones made it home.
“What happened between ye and Catriona?” Tristan asked. “Merida told me ye asked her to marry ye.”
It had not occurred to her that his cousins were informed of everything through their wives. He’d been glad to see that the women got along well with Catriona fitting right in. Now it would be a stark reminder of her absence once she returned to Fraser lands.
“She decided to marry someone else.”
Tristan frowned. “Who?”
“Someone from Clan Fraser.”
“I am sorry,” Tristan replied and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am also surprised. From what Merida told me, ye and Catriona have become very close.”
Once again, he looked up to the sky. “Once she leaves, I hope I never see her again.”
Tristan nodded. “Do ye plan to remain with us then?”
In that moment, he made a decision. “Yes. There is nothing for me in Uist and here I can make a life working for Malcolm.”
“I am g
lad to hear it,” Tristan said. “I best walk about and see about the others.
For a long time, Ewan considered his life moving forward. He’d do his best to serve the laird and fight with all his might against aggressors. After staying in the keep for a while, he’d work on building a house for himself. Perhaps he’d ask Malcolm for a piece of land to call his own.
He began formulating what to do when a moan caught his attention. One of the injured was in pain. Deciding to see if there was something he could do for the man, he went to him.
“Water, please,” the injured man asked. He was feverish and so Ewan went to get water and cloths to wash his face.
It took some time, but the man finally fell into a fitful sleep.
“He will not be returning to the northern post,” a guard said, looking down on the sleeping man. “I’ll have to ask for a replacement.”
“I will do it,” Ewan said without thinking. “I can take his place.”
“Ye are an archer. We need a warrior.” The man looked him up and down. “Although, ye’re built like a warrior.”
“I am both a warrior and an archer.”
“Yer archery skills are legendary,” the man said, holding out his hand. “I am Glenn Ross.”
Ewan studied him. “We are related then?”
“Distant. I am from the northern and smaller Ross Clan.”
Ewan noticed that Glenn’s likeness was distinct to the northern Ross Clan. Most of them had a lighter complexion and coloring of hair. Glenn was blond, but instead of blue eyes, he had the distinct hazel that most Ross’ were born with.
“I will inform Tristan of my decision,” Ewan said. “If ye will have me.”
Glenn nodded with a curious expression. “Did ye not only recently return from Fraser lands? I do not know that Tristan will agree for ye to come to the post so soon.”
“He will,” Ewan replied, knowing that Tristan would agree it to be a good idea to stay away until Catriona left. It would only lead to problems if he returned to both Broden and her still at the keep.
The cold wind blew, and he yanked the tartan over his shoulders.
He hated the cold.
Two weeks passed at the camp. The injured had been taken back to their families to recover, the dead to be buried. Other than Sutherland men returning and asking permission to retrieve their dead, no other challenges were issued.
Ewan paced the length of the camp, restless even after brushing down his horse and helping others with their mounts. The worst thing about being away from the keep was idle time. There were many hours of not much to do other than sit in wait.
They did not partake in sword play as they had to keep a keen ear to ensure no one approached. For the most part, they rode in a large circle, guarded the forest on the northern front, ate and slept.
One night, finally the call to withdraw was given. Those that were to return to Ross Keep would do so in the early morning. Those returning to the northern post, would leave a day later, ensuring there was no one in wait for them to leave and attempt to trespass.
Ewan rested well that night knowing he had a plan for the next several months. He would take on leadership responsibilities with a team of archers. Formulating plans for helping the men become better marksmen, he looked forward to the days ahead.
And yet a picture of Catriona came to mind. Her beautiful amber brown eyes meeting his, the soft smile on her lips when he’d woken lying next to her. The softness of her lips against his.
Nothing had prepared him for what she’d said. That she’d rather marry someone else. Why had she changed so drastically?
An owl’s sad hoot drew him away from thoughts of a love that would never be, and he silently thanked the bird. From now on, he would divert his thoughts. Catriona nor any woman would take any priority in his mind. If he ever was to be with another woman, it would be one that he cared little about.
The morning the contingent headed north, Ewan couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when Tristan returned to Ross Keep. Tristan had promise to send a message to let Ewan know once Catriona left, and it would be safe for him to return.
Until then, he was satisfied that his not returning would send a clear message.
Chapter Twelve
When Catriona opened her bedroom door, Merida walked in. As of late, her expression of worry remained. The quiet woman studied Catriona. “I came to see if ye would pray with me for Tristan and Ewan’s safe return.”
“Of course.” Catriona had yet to tell anyone about what she’d learned from Broden. It seemed strange to her that although he was married, none of them had yet to inform her. Perhaps they saw nothing wrong with Ewan leaving behind a family with no care for what happened to them.
She joined Merida on the floor and prayed. Despite how angry she was at Ewan, Catriona did not wish for anything bad to happen to him. Even though archers were less likely to be killed in battle than warriors, they still faced danger.
Several injured archers had returned weeks earlier just after the first battle. They’d not heard whether or not they’d battled again.
Once they finished praying, Catriona opened her eyes to see that Esme had entered the room. Her friend looked first to Merida and then to Catriona.
“The men return.”
Catriona’s stomach flipped, forcing her to take a sharp breath.
With a happy cry, Merida flew from the room, not waiting to see if they followed. Catriona went to the window but unable to see, she gave up.
“Let us go up to Elspeth’s bedchamber. From there, we can get a clear view of the courtyard and gates.”
Together, they went up the stairs to a bedchamber. The door was open and inside were Gisela and Elspeth. Both turned and waved them forward to a small balcony. Sure enough, from there, they had a clear view of the contingent of horsemen riding through the front gates and into the courtyard.
The laird, his brother and others were not visible as they probably stood by the front entrance.
Her heart thumping, Catriona searched the lines of men for Ewan. It was hard to tell one from another, but she was convinced that she could find him because his horse stood out.
The women commented on certain men, naming them and pointing. Catriona finally could not take it any longer. “Does anyone see Ewan?”
There was silence as they searched together for the familiar handsome face.
After a long while, it was Esme who spoke. “I do not think he is here.”
“He may be standing at the front door. Perhaps he dismounted before we thought to look,” Gisela added.
“I agree,” Elspeth said. “I am sure he is somewhere, and we cannot spy him.”
Catriona nodded. “Yes. Of course.” She kept scanning the faces the entire time as the men were spoken to by the laird and then began to disperse. Those that lived outside the keep rode away, while those who lived in the guards’ quarters dismounted and guided their horses to one of two huge stables where lads would take over care for the animals.
“We best prepare for last meal,” Elspeth, said. “I should go and see if Malcolm requires anything.”
As the women dispersed, Esme came up beside Catriona. “We should go and see if any help is required in the kitchen.”
It was comical, since Esme was the worst cook. However, it was obvious her friend was trying to distract her.
Catriona looked to Esme. “If he is about, I do not plan to speak to him. Do not try to come up with a way to leave me alone with him.”
Esme gave her a pointed look. “Ye should speak to him. Ask him about what Broden said.”
“He’s already lied by not telling me. Every time I asked about his reasons, not once did he reply. There cannot be anything between us. He has a family to care for.”
“I find it strange that no one here has mentioned it.”
“Yer own husband said he knew nothing about Ewan having a wife. How is it possible?” Catriona said.
“Ewan lived in Uist. It is quite a long
distance away,” Esme explained. “What the family here knows about his life is only what he has told them. Besides, how would Broden even know?”
“True.”
Esme took her hand. “If ye wish to know the truth, ask him directly. It is what ye should have done from the beginning. At least that way ye could be sure.”
“I should. Ye are right. I is best to know, although I have already made up my mind,” Catriona replied.
Together, they went down the stairs and past the great room. Everyone remained outside so the space was empty. Just as they turned down the corridor to the kitchen, Tristan entered with Merida under his arm.
“We are grabbing our bairn and heading to our home. I will come back to see ye tomorrow,” Merida said with a bright smile.
Unlike her, Tristan’s expression turned hard at seeing Catriona. He remained silent, only nodding in their direction.
“Tristan,” Esme said, much to Catriona’s dismay. “Where is Ewan?”
The huge warrior met Catriona’s gaze for a moment. It was obvious he was not happy with her. “He replaced an injured archer at the northern post. He will not be returning for many months.”
At the news, Catriona wasn’t sure how to respond. A heavy sadness fell over her as she realized she would never see Ewan again.
Esme said something, she didn’t hear. Tristan replied and both looked to her.
“Ye are pale,” Merida said. “Ye should sit.”
“I am fine, thank ye,” Catriona replied. “I should go to the kitchen. There is much to do.”
Tears threatened and Catriona blinked to keep from embarrassing herself. She hurried into the large kitchen. Thankfully, everyone was too busy preparing the large meal so that they took no notice of her.
The head cook, Moira, motioned her to come closer. “Help or get out of the way,” she said, pushing a long-handled spoon into her hand. “Stir and do not let it stick.”
Before long, Catriona donned an apron and was stirring the sweet pudding like her life depended on it.
Every so often, Moira stopped by, dipped her finger into the pot and tasted it. Each time, she declared, “It’s almost done,” before hurrying away.
A Fierce Archer (Clan Ross Book 6) Page 11