Gisela looked around the area noticing there were plenty of guardsmen and other males who worked there. Surely there was someone that she would not mind marrying.
None took her notice and she considered the men back at the village. There was one who’d actively pursued her, but she disliked the way he treated his horse. In her opinion, a man who mistreated an animal, which he depended on, was not a good person.
She’d often gone to see about the poor creature that remained hitched to a wagon day and night. Often, the animal roamed about the village seeking food with the wagon in tow.
When she’d unhitched it once and feed it fruit, the poor thing had been ecstatic. That man was definitely not an option for a possible husband. The only reason she’d marry him would be to look after the horse.
Kieran stalked back toward the keep, his gaze forward, not seeming to take notice of anyone around him. Possibly, it was his way so he could ignore the looks he often garnered.
However, Gisela had a distinct impression he saw everything and took notice of his surroundings.
Chapter Three
The Munro and his council sat on chairs in a smaller courtyard on the side of the keep facing craggy hills. The men spoke over each other, making it impossible to understand what was being said. Those gathered waited patiently, not particularly paying the loud council much attention, which lead Kieran to believe the chaos must be a regular occurrence.
“Gentlemen.” Laird Munro held both hands up. “I have made a decision. We will go forth and hold the archery competition outside the keep walls.”
With only a few grumbles, the men quieted.
“Now, I must see to clan business.” Laird Munro motioned a man in tattered clothes to come forward.
The man stated his situation, citing a need for provisions for his family after being run off by a landowner. The laird sent him off with a guard to be given food and clean clothing.
Kieran had to admit the proceedings gave him more respect for Malcolm, as his brother would never have allowed the man to leave without a way to earn a living and provide for his family. In addition, the Ross council rarely argued in front of the clanspeople.
It was going to be a long day as the Munro council began to debate over a dispute between two farmers. It seemed two of them claimed the same lands and accused each other of poaching.
Not wishing to hear more of it, Kieran started to leave.
“What say ye, Kieran Ross?” the Munro called out. “In whose favor would ye rule? Who is telling the truth?” The laird motioned to the two farmers.
Kieran knew what the Munro sought. He wished for Kieran to solve the dispute impartially not having heard the facts. However, he’d been paying attention to the pair of farmers before they’d approached.
“Tis not a dispute over land space, but an ongoing family feud,” Kieran started. “When there is a dispute between two families, it never ends. One day it is land, the next goats.”
People laughed and the two farmers glared at each other.
“True,” Laird Munro said, seeming surprised at Kieran’s response. “Therefore, I find that ye each bring me a count of yer herd weekly.”
“Tis too far to travel, Laird,” one farmer said with a worried look. “I will lose three days…”
“Aye. I cannot come each week either,” the other interrupted.
Munro shrugged. “If ye would agree that neither will take from the other, I will change it to every fortnight.”
“That, too, is very often,” the first farmer began.
“I tire of yer feuds. Therefore, my word stands. Every fortnight, ye will bring me a count of yer herd. If even one is unaccounted for, ye must have a good reason or the reporting will become weekly travel for ye both.”
Heads down, the men walked off in silence.
Laird Munro gave Kieran a triumphant look. “Ye are quite astute.”
For some strange reason, the compliment felt good.
Kieran detested situations that brought him around crowds and he wanted to ask the laird to allow him leave. He’d planned to use the overcrowding of the keep as an excuse, but now that most of the people had left, he couldn’t.
Laird Munro neared. “Why did ye arrive ahead of the others?”
Deciding it was best to be honest, he met the man’s gaze. “I was on my way to our northernmost post. I wished to intercept Ethan McLeod, who I believe travels there.”
“Ye plan to kill him,” the Laird stated, not seeming put off in the least at the idea.
“I do.”
Laird Munro nodded. “Ye are within yer rights. However, I have not had any reports of him coming through or near my lands. I will see that word is spread to inform me immediately if he is spotted.”
It wasn’t in Kieran’s nature to show emotion. Even before his father’s death, he’d never been one to. Emotions got in the way of things, in Kieran’s opinion. Made one too vulnerable. And yet in spite of a boisterous manner and loud laughter, Laird Munro maintained the air of a good leader.
“As soon as the handfasting is over, I will leave and continue on my quest to find that bastard.”
“I believe ye will find him.” The Laird became pensive. “What happens after may surprise ye.”
“What do ye mean by that?”
The laird studied him for a long moment. “Sometimes when we achieve the purpose of our existence, we lose a bit of ourselves. I understand why ye seek to kill Ethan McLeod. At the same time, I wonder if it will relieve the guilt that assails ye.”
Rage surged within him and Kieran let out a burst of air, as if a fist had been sunk into his gut. “I care not about what happens after Ethan’s death.”
When Kieran returned to the main courtyard, things had changed considerably from earlier. It was less crowded by those dispersed earlier and only a group of women remained. They spoke animatedly, their voices carrying.
Frenzied servants hauled buckets to and from the house. Bedding was being shaken from windows, which resembled tournament flags cheering competitors.
Swaying side to side, a cart full of linens entered through the gates and, immediately, servants gathered and lined up, resembling ants as they passed each other with armloads.
Preparations for his sister’s wedding ceremony were in full effect and not wishing to be discourteous, Kieran decided it would be best to remain and attend. The irritation at the change in plans began to ebb. Nothing could be done about it after all.
Besides, it was only a delay. He would find Ethan McLeod and he would kill the man, whether put off by a few days or months, the vow he’d made would never change.
Before guests began arriving, it was best to find accommodations. Hopefully, he’d find a room away from the throng of people who would gather.
His features, both a curse and a blessing, garnered attention. It was good because if Ethan hunted him, the man could easily describe Kieran.
How many times had Ethan repeated “a very attractive man” when describing him? Kieran almost smiled at the thought.
Back to the present, he focused on the current irritating situation. He needed a place away from people to get some rest.
A bearded man with uncombed hair trudged from the stables to a corral with a bucket in each hand. His back rounded from the weight, he put the buckets down and opened the gate into the corral. Once inside, he emptied water into troughs.
The horses lazily meandered to the trough and sniffed, none taking the offering. The man shook his head and motioned to the animals. “Tis fresh water, drink!”
Perfect. The stable master often had a space for someone to sleep. Kieran headed toward the corral only to stop at hearing someone call his name.
“Ross.” Caylen came up, strolling as if without a care. “The archers are practicing. Would ye care to join in?”
“No.” Kieran had enough of being around people for one day. “I am going to see about my horse. He had a slight limp on the way here,” he lied.
The young
er version of Laird Munro measured him, as if contemplating if he were telling the truth. “We are to compete in a few days. Ye may need the practice.”
“Very well, I will be there shortly.” Kieran wanted to shove the man away. He was a much better archer than Caylen. Today at practice, he’d allow the man to win, just barely. It would set him up for a bigger loss the day of the competition.
In the dim interior of the stables, he found Laith. His horse had his mouth buried in a bucket of oats. The animal didn’t look up when he called out his name.
“Ye are greedy. If not for our travels, ye would be fat,” Kieran scolded the animal that continued to ignore him. The saddle had been placed over the stable wall. From one of the saddle sacks, Kieran took out brush and ran it down Laith’s side.
Laith deemed him worthy of acknowledgment and made a soft sound exclaiming his pleasure.
“Ye must speak to Mother, Hamus,” a woman said. “She is going to petition the laird for a husband for me.”
Gisela.
“Tis not a bad thing. I worry about ye, as well,” a man replied. “Living in the cottage alone in the forest. Tis dangerous for ye, Sister.”
The woman huffed. “I can take care of myself. I do not need a husband to protect me.”
“What of the man who came to yer cottage? The mad one, he could have killed ye.”
“But he did not. I fought him off.”
“Mother found ye still as dead on the ground,” the man argued. “Go on with ye. Best to find someone to yer liking before Mother choses an old troll.” The man laughed at his sister’s situation then a loud “oomph” sounded.
“Serves ye right for laughing at me.”
Gisela stomped past the stall where Kieran remained brushing his horse. She slid him a look and rolled her eyes as she passed.
It was then that a man came into view. He was tall and slender, but the family connection was evident. He, too, had dark wavy hair and brown eyes when meeting Kieran’s.
“Sisters, they are such a bother,” he mumbled. “Ye have one?”
“Aye. She comes in a day to marry a Munro.”
“Then ye know what a bother they can be.” The man looked to Kieran. “I am Hamus. And ye must be a Ross.”
Kieran walked out of the stall. “Aye, I am Kieran. Who was the man who attacked yer sister?”
Hamus shrugged. “No one she recognized. He was about our age and Gisela thinks of good social standing by his well-made clothing.”
“What did he want?”
“To hide for the night. According to Gisela, he seemed exhausted. However, he was as mad as they come, babbling about killing and such.”
Kieran’s blood ran cold. It had to be Ethan. “When was this?”
“Almost a fortnight now.”
Kieran hurried from the stables to find Gisela, but she’d disappeared. After searching the gardens and the great room, he wasn’t sure where else the girl could have gone.
Finally, he made his way toward the kitchen, only to be intercepted by Lady Munro. “Ah, there ye are.” She looked around him to a maid. “Rena, show Kieran to his chamber.”
The maid’s eyes roved over him and she bit her bottom lip. Kieran wasn’t in the mood for a tryst. As a matter of fact, at the moment, his patience was at its limit. “I do not require chambers. I can stay in the stables.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Munro exclaimed. “I had a room prepared for ye.”
Resigned that for the next few days he would not have a moment alone, he followed the maid who swung her hips with so much exaggeration, he wondered if she’d be able to make it up the stairs without stumbling sideways.
Upon arriving at a door, she opened it and motioned inside. “Should ye require anything, all ye have to do is ask.”
Kieran’s body reacted and he let out a breath. “Perhaps later.”
Her smile widened. “I will come to ye tonight.”
He nodded and she reached for his arm, allowing her hand to trail down it as she ambled away.
It was a good-sized room, about the same size as his bedchamber at home. Too restless to sit or lay down, he stalked from one side to the other.
Had it been Ethan McLeod who’d attacked Gisela? Why had Ethan sought shelter in her cottage? It made little sense that someone would seek shelter in an enclosed place instead of sleeping outdoors where it is easier to hear others approach.
Then again, the idiot was not of sound mind. It could have been Gisela he was after and something had scared him off. Perhaps her mother’s arrival or someone riding near had made Ethan flee.
*
The next morning, Kieran woke restless. Even the tryst with the maid the night before hadn’t lessened his need to go out and search for Ethan. Leaving his bed just as the sun rose, he was able to head to the stables without anyone seeing him.
Planning a morning ride would perhaps yield some clues as to why Ethan had come through the area.
Laith was anxious to be out. The horse galloped before settling into a slower trot. From where he sat atop his horse, at the side of the slope where the keep was, he had a clear view of the village and the forest.
In the distance, a woman raced away and headed directly toward the forest.
Squinting, he tried to make out the figure, but she was too far. It looked like Gisela, but he didn’t know for sure.
“If that woman has gone against her family’s wishes, she deserves what she gets.” The horse turned his head as if listening. “Ethan could have returned to seek shelter in her cottage,” Kieran mumbled.
Laith’s ears twitched when Kieran redirected the direction of their travel.
At considering that perhaps Ethan was hiding nearby, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. In the shorter distance now, the woman reached the trees and soon disappeared into the thick foliage.
“Ethan, would ye make it that simple for me?” Kieran guided Laith toward the woods. “I certainly would hope so.”
Within moments, he caught up with Gisela, who began to run. Obviously frightened that someone on horseback was chasing her, she didn’t slow even when Kieran called out who he was.
Once she arrived at her cottage, she dashed inside, the door slamming behind her.
“Gisela, it’s me, Kieran.”
There was silence and then a curtain moved and she peered out at him. If he were prone to expressions, he would have probably smiled. There was a smear across her cheek and her hair was disheveled and loose. The dark curls framed her face and fell past her shoulders, a tumble of tangles.
“Ye look like a pauper,” he informed her. “Why did ye leave the keep?”
Eyes narrowed, she moved from the window. As he dismounted, she opened the front door. For a moment, they looked to each other in silence. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she moved back and motion for him to come inside.
Kieran entered the tiny but neat cottage.
She lowered to a stool and blew out a breath. “I needed some time alone.”
“There are too many people and so much activity at the keep. I am used to a quiet life. When I go to the market, it is only every few days and that is about as much as I can take.” The look of dejection was replaced with annoyance as she motioned to him, swinging her right arm. “And yet here ye are.”
Kieran gave her a droll look. “I came to ensure ye were safe and that the madman I seek was not about.”
“My brave protector.” Gisela’s tone was flat as she studied Kieran. It astounded him that since meeting him, she’d not once gawked or attempted any kind of flirtation. When her mother had asked if he sought marriage, she’d quickly made up an excuse for him.
“Have ye seen the man who came here and attacked ye since that day?”
Gisela shook her head. “No. I have been with mother since then.” She stood and motioned to the door. “Now, if ye would please go, I plan to spend a few hours alone.”
“Are ye not worried he could return?”
“I am hoping he forgot how to
find me.”
Kieran walked outside and around the small cottage looking on the ground and through the trees. In the distance, just a hundred yards or so, a clear river filled with recent rain rushed by.
The sound of the rapid waters and the smell of freshness wafted in the air. Even though the forest trees cast shadows onto the small clearing, it wasn’t overly dark. Just enough sunlight trickled through the branches giving the surroundings a magical air.
Gisela walked out and peered up at him. “What are ye looking for?”
“The man that came that day and attacked ye. He could be the one I seek to kill.”
Her eyes widened and she took a step backward. “Ye plan to kill someone?”
Kieran studied the ground. “Did he threaten to return?”
Movement in her throat as she swallowed took Kieran’s attention. “I do not recall, but I think he did. He probably said it to frighten me. I do not believe he will.”
Ensuring to meet her gaze, he shook his head. “I would not be so sure. Ethan McLeod usually does what he says.”
Her hand flattened on her chest and once again she swallowed. “Ye are trying to frighten me.”
“It does not matter to me if ye are or not,” he said and went to Laith. He patted the horse’s nose in thought. The woman was willful and would do whatever she wanted. “Ensure ye bolt yer door.”
As he rode away, Kieran couldn’t help but look over his shoulder. The door to the cottage was closed. The stubborn woman would be her own undoing.
He rode for several hours, keeping an eye out for any trace or sign that Ethan had been there lately.
The pounding of horses’ hooves vibrated the ground. A group of men rode toward him and, immediately, Kieran recognized his clan colors. The archers had arrived, which meant his mother and sister would soon follow.
“Ye left without telling anyone.” As soon as he came close enough, the head archer Naill, who he’d never quite gotten along with, glared at him. “We lost valuable time searching for ye before yer brother finally let us depart. He was most cross.”
Kieran didn’t bother replying. It mattered little to him whether anyone was angry with him. His brothers, more than anyone, should understand his desire to act.
A Hellish Highlander Page 3