Henry glanced around before leaning close to Alex. “He wishes to defend his father from your nefarious attack.”
“Nefarious attack?” Alex’s brow furrowed, but then understanding dawned. “He will claim I came to murder Laird Scott, and he had to kill me to stop me. He will seem like a hero. It will endear him even more to his people, but it will silently say Laird Scott cannot defend himself. Sully wants the lairdship without further wait, but he knows he can’t commit patricide.”
“I said no such thing.” But Henry’s astute gaze told Alex he’d guessed Sully’s plot. He still didn’t understand why Henry showed him any mercy or offered him any insights. “I confuse you, and rightly so. Before I became a mercenary, I had a family. I was a second son and newly married when a rival clan attacked while my wife and I returned from visiting her family. They slew her before my eyes. I was wounded and unable to ride. I wouldn’t leave her side, anyway. That clan arrived at my home and killed my mother and sister before my father and brother’s eyes. The destruction nearly impoverished us. With no wife to keep me home, I hired out my sword arm. My earnings go back to my clan. But I will never make war on women. I will never force a mon to watch his wife die. Even mercenaries have limits.”
Henry’s humanity and truthfulness left Alex speechless. As he thought about Henry’s tale, even more shock ran through his mind. “You’re Henry MacSween. Everyone swears you’re dead. No wonder you sound like a diluted Highlander.”
Henry’s eyes narrowed as he gave a jerky nod. “No one has called me that in nearly a score of years. But, aye, that’s who I once was. I left Argyll in mourning, and I only look back when I have an assignment there. The rest of the time I live in Ireland or travel.”
“I remember hearing the tale when I was a child. I—” Alex paused, unsure what he intended to say. He settled for, “thank you for sparing Caitlyn. But you attacked us once before when she was with us, and you chased her in the keep.”
“You killed the mon who originally led this mission. I did not assume the leader’s position untilaftersome of these men foolishly chased Lady Caitlyn. I took control when I learned of it. They could have had us all swinging from the gallows. I haven’t survived this long to die from a botched game of hide-and-seek. We have been together,” Henry nudged his chin toward the men ahead of them, “long enough that they accept I won’t kill a woman. Now that I lead, they understand that isn’t an option. There isn’t much else I won’t do, but I forbid women and children to me and to them.”
“That explains not harming my wife, but why not roughen me up more than the men have?” Alex sported a blackened eye and sore ribs, but they hadn’t beaten him as he expected. “If I am the only target, then why such a large force for one mon?”
“We rarely travel in small groups. We are more of a trained army than we are a loose band of cutthroats.”
“All the more reason to ask why?”
Henry gritted his teeth and shook his head. “The former leader was a MacCabe.”
“Bluidy hell. Sully’s wife is a Hebridean. Was she a MacCabe? Did he hire his wife’s cousin or some such?”
“His brother-by-marriage. Slaying him will not do you any favors.”
“Apparently, breathing doesn’t either. Surely your family no longer needs the coin after so many years of being a hired sword.”
“Had your father-by-marriage not been called back to be laird, there’s a fair chance he’d still be a mercenary in France.”
“Hardly,” Alex snorted. “He loves his wife too much to make her endure that way of life. He leaves her side when he must, and he’s as fierce as I’m sure he was then. But he has no wish to leave her for months on end.”
“Fair. But what life do I have to go back to after six-and-ten years as a mercenary? Only shame awaits my clan if I make a home among them. It’s one thing to send them coin with only my brother knowing. It’s entirely another for them to welcome a murderer under their roof. I chose this life when I thought I didn’t have one to look forward to. I keep this life because it’s what I know, and it’s the only way I can continue to serve my clan. I have no need for the wealth I own, but my people need roofs over their heads and food in their bellies.”
The two men fell quiet, and Alex felt a peculiar sense of respect for the man who spent his days roaming the British Isles to kill one target after another. Alex was grateful for the warped sense of honor that protected Caitlyn, so he didn’t question it. He appreciated still being alive. Each day he drew another breath gave him hope to return to Caitlyn. He pressed his lips together to hide his smile. As much as he didn’t want to accept it, he suspected Caitlyn hadn’t ridden to Dunure. He didn’t think the guards would agree to Mangerton, since it posed too great a threat to travel that close to Scott territory. He deduced she likely went to the Hermitage. He expected the Kennedys, Elliots, Bruces, and his own clan to rally there. He only prayed the weather allowed them to make more progress than he and his captors were.
* * *
“This blummin’ rain is slowing us to a near halt.” Angus Elliot griped. He’d ordered his men to gather their supplies and mount as soon as the Bruce messenger arrived. He’d hurried the men when Stephen arrived. His younger brother Graeme remained behind as tánaiste and clan leader in Angus’s absence. He’d rallied three score men to ride for the Hermitage, arriving in the dark. It surprised him to find Innes there, but it gladdened him to find another ally. He, Innes, and Robert discussed their plan in Robert’s solar while Caitlyn sat silently listening. He’d expected her to chime in, but she’d remained quiet and solemn. Now he respected her even more as her horse trod not far behind his. She hadn’t complained once and had kept up while the weather remained fair.
“It will slow them too. And we ride into rain they’ve likely suffered for a couple days. We may be slow, but I suspect we’re catching up.” Caitlyn spoke for the first time that day. She was bundled beneath her own plaid and her father’s, leaving him trying not to shiver in just his doublet. He’d adopted a fatherly tone that warned Caitlyn to cease arguing when she tried to turn down his offer. She adjusted the layers to speak, but soon covered most of her face to shield her from the wind and icy raindrops.
“Caitlyn is right.” Innes spoke from beside Caitlyn. He pointed to shapes in the distance. “That must be them.”
“They’re still far enough ahead of us to make it to Buccleuch in another hour or two. We won’t catch them before they’re within the gates.” Robert shook his head, water flicking from his russet locks. “At least we aren’t far behind.” He glanced at Abraham, who they’d caught up to the day they set off. The laird hadn’t hurried home as he should. He’d ridden out but made camp only a few hours away from the Hermitage. The combined Kennedy, Bruce, and Elliot forces caught up to them the next afternoon. The Armstrongs met them the following day.
“If their scouts haven’t spied us yet, they will soon,” Tavin noted. He and Brice rode side-by-side at the front. The father and son spoke little after greeting Caitlyn with embraces that nearly swallowed her whole. They’d shaken hands and clapped backs with Innes to celebrate their clans finally being allied by marriage. However, they sobered once they were in the saddle again. Caitlyn knew the men well, but she had never seen them prepared to ride into battle. The fury that simmered within her father-by-marriage and brother-by-marriage was like a poker heating over a flame. Anyone who came too near was likely to be singed. She suspected they shared her desire to burn Buccleuch to the ground and crush the Scotts beneath their heels. The difference was the Armstrong men had the might to do just that.
“Lady Caitlyn, there is a copse of trees about three miles from Buccleuch,” Brice interjected. “You will wait there with a dozen Armstrongs.”
Caitlyn glanced at her father, unprepared to receive orders from someone other than Innes. She supposed that was her welcome to Clan Armstrong. She nodded, knowing she belonged nowhere near the ensuing battle. Either Alex would ride out of the battle and find her there, or someone would come to guide her to the keep.
The massive warband made slow progress until it was nearly too dark to see. The cloud cover blocked the sun, and Caitlyn wondered if this portended a repeat of the last battle the Armstrongs and Elliots fought against the Scotts. She strained to catch any movement in front of them. She supposed if they spotted the mercenaries holding Alex captive, they must have seen the veritable army of men riding after them.
“Will they stop if it grows darker?” Caitlyn asked anyone who might answer.
“If the rain worsens, and it remains this dark, then it’s likely,” Tavin called back over his shoulder. “But we will have to stop, too.”
Caitlyn held her tongue against demanding they continue and use the weather to catch the gallowglasses and free Alex. She had faith Tavin wouldn’t relent in his pursuit to free his son. If they stopped, it was because Tavin believed it was better for their mission. She trusted him to only do what was best for Alex in the long run.
