“Mama?” Maisie said, looking up at her mother.
“Hush, sweetie,” Layla said, stroking the little girl’s hair.
Abi took Layla’s hand. “I’m sorry for the strife between Reid and his brother. But Reid is not that man anymore. He’s changed.”
Layla squeezed her hand and regarded her quizzically. “You know what? I think perhaps he has. It isn’t just any man who would be able to capture Abigail Fenton’s heart.”
Abi nodded. “I’m glad you see it that way, because I’ll need your help if I’m going to get back to where I’m supposed to be.”
“The arch beneath Kalmack Castle? It’s in enemy territory now but as soon as it’s safe we’ll take you there—”
“That’s not what I mean,” Abi interrupted. “I don’t want your help to go back to the twenty-first century. I want your help to find Reid.”
***
THIS WAS MADNESS. EVERYounce of common sense in his body was screaming at him to retreat, that he would get caught and hanged as a traitor. But he didn’t listen to common sense. Instead, he strode through the Campbell camp as if he had every right to be there, head high, shoulders back, full of confidence.
One thing he’d learned over the years was that half of the battle was appearances. People wouldn’t question you if you looked like you belonged. Or that was the theory, at least. He was wearing stolen clothes taken from a guard he’d ambushed, knocked unconscious, and tied up about a mile to the west. The dogs were guarding the man now, ensuring he didn’t raise the alarm when he woke. Reid had a Campbell plaid wrapped around his body and a helmet over his head that had cheek guards which hid most of his face. He’d tucked his hair into the helmet to keep it out of sight as his white-blond locks would be a dead giveaway.
He prowled through the camp, looking left and right, assessing the disposition of the units, how well armed they were, how well trained, who was in charge.
The army was strung out along the bay but he’d deduced that they were intending to take the overland path to Dun Calas, weaving through the bogs and uninhabited lands to come upon the keep from the landward side. Cinead would be taken totally unawares. Yet Dun Calas was still a formidable keep and laying siege to it was a highly risky operation, one that Reid was surprised Laird Campbell had decided to take.
He reached the drier, higher ground where large tents were set up, clearly the command tents. He hesitated. Once, he would have been part of the council going on in that command tent but now, if he marched up there he would be arrested the moment he showed his face. But he needed to know what they were planning.
To his left was a corral of horses. He jumped over the make-shift fence and made a pretense of lifting the horse’s hooves to check them, all the while watching the command tent.
He was rewarded a short time later when the tent flap opened and three men strode out. Laird Campbell was in the middle with Malcolm on his left and Domnall Maguire on the right. Reid’s stomach tightened with anger at the sight of them. So much for loyalty. It seemed it had not taken long for Malcolm, his former second-in-command to supplant him and for Domnall Maguire, one of the worst men Reid had ever met, to take advantage of his absence.
He bent down, surreptitiously examining the hoof, while listening to what they were saying.
“I dinna care,” Laird Campbell growled. “They had a chance to leave and they didnae. They are Muir peasants anyway. They’ll either leave their homes or we’ll march right over them. Tell the men to get ready. We march as soon as the ships are unloaded.”
The three men walked away and Reid straightened. His hand went to the dagger strapped at his side. He could end this now. If he took down Laird Campbell, all this would be over. One swift stab, and Abigail would be safe.
He stepped out, ready to challenge Laird Campbell, knowing it would likely mean his own death, when a startled voice behind him said, “Reid?”
Reid spun, the dagger leaping into his hand. Two youths stood behind him, shocked expressions on their faces, the buckets of feed they’d been bringing for the horses forgotten by their feet.
Thomas and Clyde.
They had purple bruises on their faces and one of Clyde’s eyes was swollen so badly it was almost closed. Guilt shot through him. He should have taken them with him rather than leaving them behind to face Laird Campbell’s wrath.
“Who did this to ye?” he demanded in a low voice. “Laird Campbell? Was this his punishment for ye helping Abigail and me?”
Clyde nodded. “Aye. The plan went as we expected and the laird couldnae prove we had anything to do with it—which is the only reason we’re still alive. But he suspected so he gave Domnall free rein to decide our punishment.”
“What are ye doing here, my lord?” Thomas asked. “Where is Lady Abigail? Do ye know what they will do to ye if ye are caught?”
“Abigail is safe,” Reid answered. “And I dinna plan on getting caught but I had to know what the laird is planning. What can ye tell me?”
“Not much,” Thomas answered with a shrug. “Yesterday morning a load of boats came downriver at first light and the laird told everyone to get aboard. Shipped all of us, everyone from the keep, even Martin and Cook. Brought us here where Laird Campbell’s army was already waiting. Is this it, my lord? Is there finally going to be a battle?”
Thomas’s eyes were round and huge, full of fear. Although the youths might enjoy the idea of glory when they sat safe behind the walls of Dun Treve, the reality was an entirely different thing.
“Aye,” he replied. “There is, and it will be a slaughter unless I can stop it. “
“We’re with ye, my lord,” Clyde said. “Yeare our commander, not Laird Campbell. What do ye want us to do?”
