Fighting For A Highland Rose (Defenders 0f The Highlands Book 1)

by Kenna Kendrick

  “Come on,” shouted Ewan, “It’s going badly for them!”

  With horn in hand, they rounded a corner, and suddenly the battle was before them. Clouds of smoke, both from the fire and the rifles, filled the air with a stinking acrid fog. In the wide space before them, men struggled hand to hand. Some had already fallen. The redcoats were bunched up with their backs to an enclosed wall, and the Highlanders were pressing them hard. Murdo and his party rode down toward them at a canter, Ewan lifting his horn and sounding the call as had been arranged as Murdo tried to ride out behind the fray.

  As the horn blew, the pressed redcoats managed to fire a volley and the sound of the blast drowned the signal. Through the smoke and haze, the riders could not be seen, and a sudden sortie by the beleaguered redcoats swept unexpectedly out from the other side. Bayonets high, they drove into the flank of the Highlanders who fell back a little. Without moving, Murdo and Emily found themselves in the midst of the melee.

  Emily grabbed the reins and Murdo swept out his sword.

  “Retreat!” he roared in a voice like a bellowing bull. “Retreat!”

  Emily swung the horse away from the town, and it followed the rein well, but suddenly, through the din of the cries of men and the clash of weapons around her, she heard the crashing of horses.

  Major Clairmont rode at the head of a wedge of cavalry. Their sabres shone in the sunlight, and their wild-eyed steeds were massive and galloping at full speed in the charge.

  “Retreat,” roared Murdo again and the call was taken up by others around him.

  He swung towards the English charge, and Emily’s reins followed him. It was as if time slowed down. The cavalry crashed into the melee, sending men of both sides flying in every direction, but Clairmont had seen them. At the last moment, he peeled away from his men and charged straight toward them. His eyes blazed with fury, his sword raised high above his head and his open mouth a wordless roar of hatred as he bore down upon them.

  Chapter Nine

  “Bring the beast around!” Murdo called to Emily, and she found the horse responsive to the rein. The great courser swung around until it was side-on to Clairmont’s charge. Just as the Major seemed about to crash head-long into them, he, too wheeled his horse around, his sword whistling through the air toward Murdo, but the horse danced back a few steps, and his first aim was wild.

  Around them, the Highlanders’ fortunes were failing. The redcoat's sortie had caught the Highlanders off guard, and they were giving ground, isolated men falling down before the redcoats’ furious, disciplined attack. The Highlanders were unwillingly forced back, away from Murdo and Emily whose horse turned in a deadly dance with Clairmont’s. A little way back Ewan, Alice, and Father Colum had reached James, who stood a little way back observing the battle, pointing out where Murdo was isolated from the main body of the Highlanders by the swirling melee of infantry and cavalry. The black smoke from the burning cottage filled the air.

  “We cannae lose him,” cried James, “wi’ me my Highlanders!” And with that, he charged into the press with his broad-hilted sword raised high. His men saw their clan chief charging with fury into their midst, and they rallied to him. Falling back they regrouped before charging with a great roar. At that same moment, the roof of the burning cottage collapsed with a crash, and the horses of the redcoat cavalry reared and snorted in fear and gave back.

  In the heat of the battle Murdo and Clairmont traded sword thrusts, but brawny Murdo had a much longer reach than the thin English Major, and his blade was longer. He also drilled daily to keep his skills sharp. Pressing forward he forced Clairmont’s guard down with a rain of powerful blows. When the roof gave way, Clairmont glanced away for the merest instant – but it was an instant too long. The tip of Murdo’s blade darted in and up, cutting the Major cleanly from chin to eye socket. Clairmont looked shocked, surprised, and his mouth opened as if to shout. His horse reared, and the blood suddenly sheeted down his cheek. A captain of the redcoats saw the commander reeling and began to shout for the retreat. An answering cry came from the Highlanders.

  “Now, lass, now!” Murdo called quickly. “Get us awa’! This our only chance tae get clear o’ them!”

  Emily did not wait. Murdo put his heels to the horse as Emily guided them around and suddenly they were away, through the gap which the fury of the Highland charge had opened up for them. The two groups of men were moving quickly away from each other, both retreating as quickly as they could. They were enveloped by a small group of mounted Highlanders led by Ewan with Alice riding behind him, and Emily looked back over her shoulder. Through the clouds of dust and smoke, she caught a last glimpse of Clairmont, his face white as chalk as he tumbled from his horse into the arms of the captain of his cavalry.

  They rode hard, straight up the hill and through the verdant green pine woods. James had remained behind with the men on foot to make sure that the orderly retreat continued. Emily rode behind Murdo on his great horse with Ewan and Alice beside them with Father Colum. Fixed to each saddle lay the heavy canvas sacks filled with treasure, and around them rode another ten of fifteen grim-looking Highlanders.

  They proceed in this way for what seemed to Emily an eternity but was, in reality, only a few hours. As they crested the ridge, the pace eased a little and Murdo sent a few men back to check on the rest of the party. These scouts returned a short while later, bearing a message from James. They were to camp at a spot under the slopes of Ben Bracken. Murdo said nothing, nodding to the messenger, and the little party rode silently on as the light faded.

  It was evening by the time they set up camp. They were in a little sheltered dell surrounded by woodland and seemed to know the spot well for at an order from Murdo, three men went off into the trees and returned with tents and blankets stashed nearby. Emily watched impressed as Murdo moved among his men, giving orders or conversing quietly, and sometimes sharing a quiet laugh as he lent a hand in setting up the tents.

  As Emily sat with Alice in the shelter of a broad tree, she was struck by how obviously the men respected Murdo. They stood straighter when he approached and seemed to glow with pride if he shared a joke with them. He set light to the small fire they would use for cooking, his men gladly ceding him that honour.

  When he stood up from the now crackling blaze, he dusted off his hands with a satisfied air and glanced up at her. His smile broadened as he saw her looking at him, and he walked towards her.

  “Weel Emily, Whit say ye tae our arrangements? Dae they meet wi’ yer approval?”

  “They do,” she replied, smiling up at him. It was not just the camp that met with her approval.

  “Ah, it was a bad business back at yon toon.” His voice took on a serious tone as he sat beside her. “We didnae expect such fierce resistance, and that’s a fact. The scout sent back reports that several men were killed and mair wounded. The wounded managed to get away, but they werenae able to retrieve the dead.”

  She put a hand on his arm, and he looked down at her somberly.

  “But you achieved your goal?”

  “Aye, lass, we did that. And a damn site sooner than we wound hae done wi’out yer help.”

  Alice and Emily were provided with a tent of their own to sleep in. Alice took advantage, saying that she had no appetite and wished to rest. Murdo left the camp to scout around the area, returning after dark with James and the main body of the Highlanders. They came into campus silently, wary as beasts; their behaviour, unlike the loud and aggressive posturing Emily, would have expected from soldiers having just won a battle. Several were wounded, and these were treated with as much skill as could be mustered in the small camp. James and Father Colum seemed to be the most skilled healers in the group, and they moved among the wounded; washing, stitching, and bandaging as best they could.

  “There’s nae sign o’ pursuit,” Murdo reported to Emily a little later as they sat beside one another by the fire. All around them, the men were paying a great deal of attention to their dinner. Murdo an
d Emily had bowls of rich stew on their laps, and the rich, dense, unleavened flatbreads the Highlanders baked and called “bannocks”.

  “They will be out efter us as soon as they can muster their strength, though,” he warned. “We must be up and away wi’ the dawn tomorrow.”

  * * *

  “Alice, my dear, why are you crying?” Emily crept into the little tent silently as she expected Alice to be fast asleep. Instead, she found her friend sitting up in the blankets, sobbing quietly to herself.

  “Come, now,” said Emily, putting her arms around the girl and trying her best to comfort her. “Whatever is the matter? Are you alright?”

  It took a little while for Alice to calm herself. Heaving a great sigh, she blew her nose loudly.

  “Oh, miss, that fight! I hae ne’er seen anything so terrifying! When we left to run awa’ frae the castle, I thought it was a fine, romantic adventure. But when we got down there, close to the fighting, I thought my heart would break. All the brave men, fighting tae gie us time tae get clear! And when we got awa’ I just couldnae stop thinking about my brother and the thought o’ him in battle.”

  She broke off in another storm of weeping. Emily remembered the story of her brother, who had run off to join the rebel army and fight at Culloden but had never returned.

  Alice calmed after a while and rolled herself in the blankets to sleep. Emily lay awake for a while, thinking over the events of the day. Suddenly she felt the weight of her circumstances. It was as Alice said; this morning, it had seemed romantic, but now? Would she ever see her father again? What would happen to them? But against her doubts, the fair face of Murdo MacPherson rose in her mind, and she felt sure that no matter what happened, she had made the right choice. The thought of his strong features and his dark eyes stayed with her as she dropped off into an exhausted sleep.

  * * *

  The camp was stirring by the time they were dressed and had taken a little food and water. Ewan came over once they had breakfasted. Bowing low, which both girls found amusing in the rugged setting of the camp, he grinned, and Emily noted that his eyes seemed to linger on Alice.

  “Good morning, ladies. Ye’ll be wondering, nae doubt whit we are about the day?”

  “Murdo said that we were to move on as quickly as possible,” Emily replied.

  “Aye, that’s true enough. We’ll move on at good speed, but Murdo has asked me tae bring ye tae him first, once ye were awake. I believe he wishes ye tae meet wi’ his faither.”

  As they walked through the bustling camp, men were preparing to depart. Ewan led her to a large tent pitched a little way from the others, as they approached the flap opened and Murdo stepped out.

  “Ah Ewan, ye hae brought them. Come in here, please. There’s someone I want ye tae meet.”

  As he spoke, James MacPherson stepped out. He looked down on the two women intensely, making Emily uncomfortable.

  “Emily, Alice, this is my father, James, chief of the clan MacPherson.”

  “So ye are the twa women whae helped my son here tae the treasure? I am indebted tae ye. Murdo tells me that we must bring ye baith alang wi’ us on our journey now. Is this whit ye baith wish? It will be a hard road, and if the English soldiers overtake us, it will go hard wi’ ye, nae less than it will wi’ us. Ye tak’ yer lives in yer hands if ye come alang wi’ us.”

  Emily stepped forward. “Sir, it will go hard with my friend and me if we return into the hands of the English soldiers of our own accord. We shall go with you if you are willing to take us with you?”

  James pondered the girl with flaming hair that stood before him. “Hmm, weel, my son speaks highly o’ ye, and I cannae deny that wi’out yer help yesterday we would have lost mair men and come off the poorer for it. I just wanted tae be certain ye ken what ye’re getting yersels intae. But, so be it. Ye shall ride wi’ us. And we must ride soon!”

  The Highlanders had hidden many horses under cover of Ben Bracken. Now many more were able to ride and when the party set out there were easily thirty on horseback and another twenty on foot following behind. Emily and Alice had their own horse, and they rode at an easy, steady pace, with Murdo and Ewan nearby.

  “We go north,” Ewan addressed the women. “North, tae the lands o’ the MacPhersons. There we shall be safe, and we can put the gold tae good use, tae buy equipment and supplies for the rebellion.”

  They came to a narrow place between two hills. Murdo, who had ridden ahead, held up a clenched fist and the whole party slowed and stopped behind him. Emily watched as he gave out the orders for a small scouting party to ride ahead and others to cover the ground to either side. It was an ideal place for an ambush. The men jumped to his snapped command, and Emily felt the love for him swell in her heart as she watched how competent and capable he was, and how his men trusted him.

  Sitting high in the saddle, his head turning from side to side, he rode at a canter down the column toward them.

  “Ewan,” he called as he reached them. “Tak’ the women through yon gulch when the scouts have gie’d the a’ clear, understood?”

  Murdo’s eyes met hers, and as she smiled, he coloured a little, fighting a smile with his stolid reserve. He was the captain, the man among men, but she saw beneath the surface; the tender-hearted noble man below the hard exterior. His cheeks reddened, and he gave a little shake of his head.

  “Stay ye close tae Ewan,” was all he said before riding off again.

  There was no threat in the gulch, and they passed through safely. Alice and Ewan rode ahead; their heads close, talking earnestly. Suddenly, Alice’s voice rose, and Emily urged her horse toward them, interested to hear what had excited her friend.

  “Ye kent him? Truly?” she was saying, but Ewan looked doubtful.

  “If yer brother was the same Kenneth Murphy, then aye, I kent him...”

  “Ye wouldnae mistake him, he had a great birthmark on his face, on the left side.”

  Ewan shook his head and glanced back at Emily for support. Alice looked enthused and excited, but Ewan’s face was grave.

  “I kent him,” he said, looking sadly at Alice. “Aye, I kent yer brother.”

  Chapter Ten

  “He’s deid, nae doubt about it, deid as they come.” Ewan turned his horse around and spurred forward. Alice white as a sheet followed, keeping pace with him.

  “Deid? Are ye sure? When he ne’er came back I thought maybe...”

  “Nae, lass,” replied Ewan without turning. “He’s deid. It was at a skirmish just outside Rosekirk on the way tae the battle. We wernae ready tae fight, and the English came upon us unawares in the middle o’ the night. It was chaos, but we managed tae hold them aff long enough tae flee. Young Alastair, the lad wi’ the birthmark, he didnae mak’ it.”

  Alice rode on with her head bowed; the salt tears streaming down her cheeks. Clumsily Ewan reached out and tried to comfort her, but she flinched from his touch, and he looked around helplessly at the others.

  “He wis a braw laddie,” Ewan tried to soften the blow awkwardly. With an appealing look at Emily, he added, “I must go on up tae the front o’ the column and mak’ sure a’ is weel wi’ Murdo.”

  Putting his heels to the horse, he urged her forward, and the sudden canter threw a splatter of wet mud back up into the women’s faces. Emily reached over and touched her friend’s shoulder.

  “He could have handled that better,” she said icily. “But Alice dear, I thought you knew about your brother already?”

  “Och, aye, o’ course I did, in my heart I did, I knew. But I kept a wee spark o’ hope alive, and now that’s gone too.”

  She lapsed into weeping again, and there was nothing Emily could do but ride quietly beside her. There were no words of comfort, and when she saw Ewan laughing heartily with one of his companions, she felt her heart chill toward him. He had not managed to make it to the head of the column and instead he rode along with a group of companions only a few files ahead. As she watched, he threw his head back and laughed ag
ain. He had only wished to get away from them, from Alice and the pain he had caused.

  * * *

  Murdo kept the party to a steady pace and the miles passed with the days under easy and forgiving weather. Alice withdrew into herself, and Emily was concerned about her, though there was little she could do for her friend except to be available if she felt the need to talk. Ewan kept his distance.

  The men were a tough lot, quiet but kind, polite and well-mannered. She had not seen any fighting or disorder since joining them and was not what she expected from fighting men. Emily found that she slipped very easily into the new routine, and sometimes nearly had to stop and pinch herself to see if it was real. Was she, Emily Nasmith, riding along through the misty spring weather with a troop of battle-hardened Highland clansmen? When she took a deep breath and glanced around, she found that she was.