by Fiona Faris
Rory leaned closer to him.
“Ye were no’ at the castle when Donald spouted his hatred fer ye. It made most o’ oor lads join yer cause efter he made an utter fool o’ himsel’. Ye hae nae idea how livid he will be when he sees yer face,” Rory enlightened Andrew.
“I hae nae doubt he was blisterin’ angry from losing Freya, but he deserves much worse fer the despicable acts he has committed.”
Rory nodded thoughtfully. “We must soon begin oor march to Blair Castle. Within the next three days oor ye will hae tae face Donald ‘ere. I warn ye, he will no’ wait ‘round fer ye tae attack him.”
“Ye know I want tae attack sooner rather than later, but some o’ oor lads… Weel, ye saw for yersel’ how unskilled a few o’ ‘em are. They jist daen’t seem tae grasp swordsmanship.”
“If they dae no’ learn swiftly, then they will meet their demise. Maybe yer new recruits are better served on the frontline,” Rory suggested.
Andrew was baffled at the suggestion. He stood up and paced across the cottage.
“Are ye sayin’ we use some o’ ‘em as a distraction?” he asked Rory, stopping mid-step.
“That might be the most effective strategy tae get tae Donald faster. They will cause a distraction on the weak side, sae the strongest o’ us can dethrone Donald straight ahead.”
“But it would be a deceitful betrayal o’ these lads who hae joined the cause fer their freedom. Every lad deserves a fair chance tae earn his victory in battle. It would be unforgivable tae rob ony lad the chance o’ tastin’ the bittersweetness of standing atop a warrior he jist slain.”
Rory smirked. “Suit yersel’! Ye will wish ye followed my advice. I guarantee Donald will be in this village in three days. Mark my words. If the lads who I brought with me are no’ back at Blair Castle soon, then Donald will become suspicious o’ oor whereaboots. He thinks we are on a search party tae bring ye in tae face justice.”
Andrew chuckled at the thought of a search party meant to capture him. He considered it ridiculous that Donald would send nearly a dozen warriors.
“We shall no’ attack yet. No’ ‘til everyone is ready tae defend themselves,” Andrew emphasized. “In the meantime, ye need tae get some shut-eye. Ye hae an important duel with a new sparring partner tomorrow.”
Andrew marched toward the door and walked outside into the blistering cold. A shadowy figure darted along the edge of Rory’s cottage, and the movement of the figure caught the corner of Andrew’s eye. He attempted to chase the outline, but its elusiveness enabled it to disappear deep into the darkness.
Suddenly, the noise of a door slamming shut resonated through Andrew’s ears. He turned to peer at all of the cottages. His heavy breathing increased its pace as his eerie surroundings rendered his senses useless. He desperately searched along the edge of Rory’s cottage, but the outline had vanished into the crisp, autumn night.
Frustrated by his inability to find a trace of anyone, he proceeded to his cottage. As he laid down on the cot, next to a now dozing Freya, his mind whirled.
Who the devil had fled from him just now?
Chapter Nineteen
Freya lay in bed awake as Andrew began to dress for another lengthy day with his battalion. She coiled the blanket around her tightly, her eyes fixated on Andrew’s arse as he adjusted his tartan which draped to his knees. The beam of sunlight which penetrated inside the cottage radiated off the sculpted muscles on his back.
He was searching for his breeches when he noticed Freya’s lustful gaze.
“Good mornin’, Freya! Dae ye like whit ye see?” Andrew chuckled as Freya blushed.
“It is certainly no’ the worst view tae wake up tae in the mornin’, I will admit,” she replied.
Although, beneath the lust still sat her uneasiness about the battle to come.
Andrew went to finish gathering what he needed and leave when Freya leaped out of bed and blocked his path.
“Freya, whit is the matter with ye? Ye know I hae tae go train the soldiers,” Andrew said in disbelief.
“Please, sit down on the cot, Andrew. We need tae talk a moment.”
“A’ right. But I am goin’ tae be late since it is efter sunrise.”
Freya walked over to him and grasped his wrists to guide him to the cot.
“I worry aboot ye, Andrew. Ye are obsessin’ o’er this trainin’ sae incessantly that it has been takin’ a toll on us. We sleep in the same cottage, but I feel more an’ more distant from ye each night,” she told him.
“Ye know why it has been like this, Freya. I thought ye understood the importance o’ this mission we are aboot tae embark on.”
“Aye, I dae. I am talkin’ aboot efter yer trainin’ fer the day. Ye always away from the cottage until the wee hours o’ the night. If I did no’ have my mither an’ Sorcha ‘ere with me, I would surely go mad with loneliness.”
“I promise ye, my bonnie, this world will be a different place efter we battle. Once I know there is peace throughoot the land, ye an’ I will share a new life together.”
A soft smile appeared on Andrew’s face as he continued to ease her concerns. She reached out to grasp his warm hands when another one of her qualms struck her.
“Oh, afore ye leave, there is somethin’ else I need tae get aff my chest,” she said with a look of trepidation.
“This cannae be good. I can tell by the look on yer face.”
“I know ye will think I hae gone mad when I suggest this, but there is somethin’ aff aboot yer frien’ Rory. I cannae put my finger on it, but he is a strange character. I would not trust him if I were ye,” Freya explained.
Andrew’s cheerful expression turned into a frown.
“Whit do ye mean ye think there is somethin’ aff aboot him? He has done nothin’ but help since he arrived in the village. If it were no’ for him bringin’ the more warriors, we would no’ be this close to attacking Donald,” he said, somewhat incensed.
“I dae no’ doubt ony o’ that, Andrew. My concern is his behavior since he has been ‘ere. I jist hae an ominous feelin’ aboot him an’ I simply cannae figure oot why. I knew I had tae confess this tae ye since he is yer close frien’.”
“Ye are damn right! He is the closest frien’ I hae an’ we hae been through everythin’ together.” Andrew grasped her arms to look into her eyes.
“I cannae help my instincts,” Freya went on and broke out of his grip.
She shook her head in disarray.
“I hae caught him in meetings with some o’ yer Murray clansmen in secret ‘round the cottages.”
Andrew chuckled. “Nae, ye must be mistaken. Rory would no’ betray me.”
Freya reeled on him. “I am no’ daffy. I know whit I saw.”
“Ye saw clansmen talkin’ tae eachither. It is not worth gettin’ up in arms aboot,” Andrew said, his eyes narrowed.
“It looked more suspicious than that. An’ whenever Rory looks at me, there’s a smug expression on his face. It reminds me o’ that bastard Donald.”
Andrew laughed in disbelief over Freya’s misgivings of Rory.
He let out a deep sigh of frustration. “I hae nae time tae worry aboot yer wee fantasies aboot Rory. Ye should hear how ridiculous ye sound right now,” Andrew said and strode towards the cottage door.
Again, Freya blocked his path.
“Why won’t ye take me seriously, Andrew?” she said, her voice rising. “If ye care aboot me, ye will at least consider whit I hae said. I beg o’ ye, please, dae no’ shun my intuitions.”
Andrew peered downward at his boots with his hands on his waist. He reflected on Freya’s incessant suspicions to render them some thought, but he remained stern on his mistrust of her premonitions. He clasped Freya by the shoulders and utilized his brute strength to lift her away from the door.
Andrew trudged outside of the cottage in a vengeful manner as if his wrath would be targeted at the next unlucky soul to grace his presence.
The lad who valiantly fought Andrew the pre
vious day approached him and shouted, “Bout time ye rolled oot o’ the hay. We hae been waitin’ since dawn fer ye. I sure wish I had a lass tae shag.”
Enraged by the lad’s impudent remarks, Andrew lunged and scruffed him by the neck.
“I hae nae time fer such humorous remarks. Now, get yer arse away an’ wait fer instruction,” Andrew said with a scowl.
He released the lad and glared at him as he scurried away like a scolded dog back to the open field where the rest of the battalion stood.
“A’ right, lads, it is time tae increase the intensity o’ yer trainin’. It has come tae my attention that oor invasion must come at an earlier time than originally expected. Oor quest tae rid the world o’ that devil will commence in three days. If ye hae no’ paid attention in trainin’ up tae this point, then I suggest ye start daein’ sae,” Andrew enlightened his soldiers.
The entirety of Andrew’s forces stood in shock of his decision to initiate the invasion in three days’ time. The lads who had been acquired from the nearby villages appeared petrified, with the exception of the cocky lad who was unafraid to challenge any warrior. At the far end of the line of soldiers, Rory stood with an eerie grin hidden from Andrew’s peripheral vision. The smirk vanished as Andrew veered his attention to the Murray warriors.
“This is the right decision, Andrew. Ye will no’ regret the timin’ o’ the attack. Should we wait ony longer tae proceed, the village would be in grave danger. Donald an’ the rest o’ oor clan would hunt us doon,” Rory said.
A smile grew on Andrew’s face as Rory demonstrated charisma and leadership amongst the men under his command. Rory was his right-hand man, and he was unafraid to allow him to issue demands to any soldier. After everything Rory had sacrificed to join Andrew on his quest, how on earth could he not trust his dear friend?
“Enough standin’ ‘round. Pair up with yer sparin’ partners!” Andrew shouted. “Rory, yer with the lad, as I promised.”
“Aye, let’s show the lad how a real Murray fighter daees it,” Rory boasted as he and the lad prepared to duel.
Andrew observed in anticipation of how Rory would perform. Freya’s voice crawled inside the back of his mind, but he shunned them with his best efforts.
As the two began to spar, Rory was quick as lightning with his sword. His thrusts were difficult for the lad to deflect. The lad retreated backward further and further against Rory’s vicious aggression until he crumbled to his feet. Rory released a warrior call which startled the birds amongst the trees, and they scattered into the cloudy sky. He catapulted himself into the air and plunged down towards the stunned lad.
The lad barrel rolled forward to narrowly miss a thrust of Rory’s broadsword which instead penetrated the soil. Andrew grew uneasy as he watched the intensity Rory had brought to the fight.
The lad threw his sword to the ground. “I surrender! I cannae carry on with this fight. This man is legitimately tryin’ tae kill me!”
“Oh, hush ye wee, lout! I wasn’t goin’ tae kill ye. It was a spar. A challenge; therefore, I challenged ye. An’ I won!” Rory laughed.
Andrew had never seen Rory fight with such rage and force. It had been years since the two battled each other. The pair had always conquered foes side by side on the battlefield. It’d never dawned on Andrew what type of repertoire Rory possessed with the sword.
Due to Freya’s words, he visualized Rory turning his broadsword against him.
After Rory’s impressive onslaught, Andrew halted training to make an announcement.
“Whit a display o’ pure an’ raw skill. That is exactly whit I need tae see from a’ o’ ye. Thank ye fer showin’ ‘em how it’s done, Rory,” he said.
“Efter watchin’ yer performance against the lad, I thought it only best.” Rory chuckled again as he elbowed Andrew’s side.
However, Andrew failed to find the comment humorous.
“Ye an’ I should spar like the good ol’ days, Andrew. I daen’t think yer wee lad wants tae spar with me again,” Rory suggested.
“Aye, they were good times. Alas, I hae tae strategize oor attack, sae I hae nae time tae spar. Ye an’ the lad switch partners with two o’ the warriors from oor clan. He still needs the practice,” Andrew commanded.
“Oh, come on, brither. Spar me now. Let’s hae some fun!” Rory goaded.
Andrew glared at his friend, not liking his tone or refusal to do as he commanded.
“I told ye tae switch partners. That’s an order. I am aff tae my quarters tae go o’er oor battle strategy. I shall return at dusk,” Andrew stated and noted Rory bite his tongue.
Andrew lumbered to his cottage. Freya’s confession combined with Rory’s recent behavior just now made his gut ache. He required solitude to deliberate on everything. With the invasion of Blair Castle imminent, Andrew needed to clear his head.
The success of their revolt against Donald and the rest of the Murray clan depended on it.
Chapter Twenty
At dusk, Andrew awoke and left his quarters refreshed and revitalized. He’d managed to cast aside his troubled musings about Rory and was mentally prepared to guide his men into what was sure to be a bloody battle for the rights to be called clan chief.
“It is aboot time ye presented yoursel’. Everyone has been chatterin’ aboot ye bein’ locked inside the cottage,” Freya said as she approached the cottage.
Andrew stretched his arms to the sky and embraced her. She was startled by his sudden reversed mood, especially when he swung her around.
“Oh, Freya, my worry has been lifted. I feel like a new man reinvigorated for the journey ahead.”
“I would hope sae – since ye told the men they were leavin’ fer battle in less than two days’ time.”
“Nae, my sweet bonnie, we depart in less than three days.”
“Do ye know long ye were in yer quarters, Andrew?” Freya asked as she grasped his shoulders.
“Aye, a few hours. It is sunset,” Andrew replied with a yawn.
Freya stared at him with bewilderment.
“Ye silly lout! ‘tis been a whole day since ye first went intae the cottage.”
“Whit? Ye cannae be serious, Freya,” Andrew said, but then a realization dawned on him. His men were without their leader for a day.
He hurried to the training field and was shocked to see the group fully engaged in battle formations, some he had yet to teach them.
More and more eyes fixed their gaze upon Andrew as he’d finally reappeared after his long slumber. As he further analyzed the battalion’s formation, he observed Rory issuing commands. It was an impressive but downright frightening display for Andrew.
“Gather round everyone,” Andrew shouted to the group.
They trekked across the open field towards him, rare fall sunshine basking down on them. Andrew squinted his eyes as they adjusted to the warmth of the sun after being lost in a trance.
“Look who finally decided tae wake up. Did ye get plenty o’ rest?” one of the younger lads jested.
“Aye, I most certainly did! I had tae regain my strength efter watchin’ ye louts fight like lassies fer sae lang,” Andrew joked back at him.
“We a’ thought ye had tae much drink,” one of the Murrays commented, which made all the men laugh.
“Nae. Alas, I had nane tae drink. A captain cannae lead his soldiers unless he himsel’ is fully rested for war. Now, I want tae inform ye a’ that today is the final day o’ trainin’, an’ tomorrow will be a day o’ recuperation afore we commence oor journey to Blair Castle,” he explained.
The gathering of the soldiers around Andrew sparked Freya’s curiosity. She stood nearby with her mother and Sorcha. They positioned their gaze solely on Andrew as he astounded them with a glorious pre-war discourse.
“I hae seen years o’ misery an’ torment surround the lowlands, an’ the Highlands where us Murrays originate. Oor current chief has cast a dark shadow upon us a’. Now, ‘tis time that he faces justice fer his rapin’, pillagin’, and mu
rderin’ of the Erskine clan.”
The lads who volunteered for the revolt rumbled their approval of Donald paying the price for his murderous actions, while Rory and a few of the Murray warriors smirked.
“I hae a vision o’ a’ o’ us livin’ together in peace,” Andrew continued. “Ever since I was a wee lad, I hae witnessed violence amang clans time and time again. With that bein’ said, I am also a believer in facin’ justice tae reap whit ye sow. Donald will pay the ultimate price fer his wickedness an’ the tarnishin’ o’ the Murray name. His blood shall be spilled tae ensure his reign o’ terror ceases.”