“I want holy fire and brimstone to rain down on every Scott’s head and scorch the land upon which they stand.” Caitlyn snapped before catching herself. She supposed she wasn’t as composed as she’d believed. “But what I ask for is help to free my husband. He is with them because he saved my life over his. Now it is my turn to save him. I may not swing a sword, but I can ask those who do to help.”
“You intend to have the king’s son take sides in a tiff between neighbors.” Robert’s statement rang in the air, a warning edge to it.
“The king already took sides when he ordered the Scotts to cease their incursion. You merely carry out your father’s orders. He is your liege.”
“You are quite outspoken, Lady Caitlyn.” Robert studied the guards who stood at a discreet distance but were clearly loyal to Caitlyn. “I suspect you get that from your father. Though the temper surely comes from your mother.”
“Imagine what that combination bodes.” Caitlyn raised her chin mulishly, daring Robert to deny her request after pointing out the Scotts ignored his father’s orders. “If you cannot lend your arm, then I ask that you send a rider to Redheugh. My men deserve a night’s rest, not another day on the road. But I will send one if I must.”
“And you think to have everyone rally at my keep.” Robert scowled and crossed his arms.
“They need not step foot in your bailey. They can meet at the battlefield you watched as the Scotts attacked the Armstrongs and the Elliots.”
“You must think me able to see for miles.”
“From that battlement, I’m certain you can.” Caitlyn shifted her gaze to the highest point on the keep’s northeastern wall.
“Be that as it may, I want you to understand I didn’t simply stand by as the Scotts tried to slaughter your new clan and its allies.” Robert released his arms, and his voice softened. “You can imagine the position I’m in among my neighbors and with my father.”
“I can, and I sympathize. But you have the power to help end this.”
“More so than you realize. Come inside, Lady Caitlyn. You are not my only guest.”
Caitlyn’s brow furrowed as she shot a glance at her guards. They’d relinquished their swords while Caitlyn and Robert spoke, but she was certain they still carried knives. They followed her into the Great Hall and nearly tripped over her when she halted.
“You bluidy bastard.” Caitlyn’s expression could only be described as menacing as Robert stepped onto the dais beside Laird Abraham Scott. Neither man was sure who she addressed. She knew she spoke to them both. “You play me for a fool while you sup with my enemy. My enemy sits, gorging his face while his men take my husband to his death.”
“Who are you?” Laird Scott asked around a mouthful of food.
“Lady Caitlyn Armstrong.” Caitlyn watched as Abraham dropped the lamb chop he’d been about to gnaw on, and his face took on a pasty shade. “Until a few days ago, I was Lady Caitlyn Kennedy. Imagine our surprise when your gallowglasses attacked us only a day from Dunure. Imagine how easily one of my guards rode to tell my father that you delayed our surprise arrival. Imagine in two days’ time when Laird Armstrong realizes his heir has been kidnapped and his only daughter-by-marriage was held with a sword to her throat. I imagine you’re not long for this life because if I don’t kill you, at least three lairds will line up to take their turn turning your arse over a spit.”
“You screech like a harpy over something I know naught aboot.” Abraham licked his fingers and rose. Caitlyn sensed Robert’s unease as the towering man leaned toward where Caitlyn now stood before the dais. “Your husband had best not be on my land, or I will have him killed.”
“And that is how you shall justify it. You have men drag him there and keep him alive long enough to have the satisfaction of being a murderer. You sweat now because your soul is already touching the fires of hell.”
“I may be a warrior and more mon than your bonnie little head could imagine, but I am no murderer.”
“No. You hire others to do so, so only the grease you lick from your fingers soils them.”
“You mother failed to teach you manners, lass,” Laird Scott spat.
“My mother taught me to accept no address but Lady Caitlyn or my lady. You may mock me, and I may insult you, but your clan will perish once the Kennedys, Armstrongs, and Elliots rain down on them. Your gallowglasses cannot defeat them all. And I shall pish on your grave myself.” Caitlyn would not back down.
“Vulgar bitch.” Abraham grunted as he sneered.
“Give me back my husband, and you might find me more reasonable.”
“I do not have your husband.”
“Your gallowglasses do. But he will be at Buccleuch within the next two days.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then ride home and find out. You’d do well to prepare your women and children to be widows and orphans.”
“Laird Scott has been my guest for the past sennight. He arrived before this alleged attack by gallowglasses.”
“There is naught alleged. The king knows sincehis,” Caitlyn hissed at Abraham,“mercenaries chased us while we were on a morning ride a fortnight ago. The king knows these men chased me through Stirling Castle.”
