Another hour’s ride across a boggy meadow forced the army to stop for the night. The horses could barely continue, having strained against the mud trying to suck their hooves deeper with each step.
Wrapped in three plaids, two Kennedys and a spare Armstrong, Caitlyn huddled beside her father, who wrapped his brawny arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. She rested her head on his shoulder as she had countless times since childhood. His warmth seeped into her, giving her a sense of calm and reassurance. If she couldn’t sit beside Alex, her father was the next best thing.
“Caity, we’ll get to him. We’ve already joined Laird Scott.” Innes's description was an understatement. While they’d caught up to the Scotts and supposedly joined them for the ride to their home, everyone understood they’d captured the laird. The leaders of the veritable army already decided to send a scout ahead if they couldn’t overtake the gallowglasses and warn Sully that his father didn’t ride alone. They planned to trade Alex for Abraham. “Sully may be impatient to become laird, but pride dictates he try to rescue his father. He won’t appear weak before his clan and merely accept us getting the better of him and his people.”
“What if we can’t get a mon there soon enough?”
“We will, Caity. Have faith.”
Caitlyn was desperate to believe her father, and she’d held onto her hope with a death grip. But the weather and the days on the road made her question whether God heard her prayers. Perhaps he did but wasn’t listening. Caitlyn wasn’t sure what to think. She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, but as with the previous nights, nightmares filled her slumber. She woke feeling emotionally drained and physically exhausted. She hauled herself into the saddle once again. The rain cleared overnight, and the sun fought to peek around the clouds. As they rode away from their camp, a beam of sunlight appeared between the clouds, casting gold, pink, and blue hues toward the ground.
There’s God.
Caitlyn inhaled deeply with her eyes closed. When she opened them, a sense of calm finally returned for the first time in days. As though to make a point, the sunlight shone on the moving dots on the horizon. Caitlyn squinted and realized the distance between her party and the gallowglasses had lessened. They were approaching her attackers’ camp rather than following riders. As the space between them grew smaller, she watched in frustration as the men they pursued mounted and raced ahead of them. They no longer had an advantage, and the distance once more grew.
* * *
Alex surveyed the surrounding area as they broke camp. Henry rushed into the camp and ordered everyone to mount, whether or not they had covered their campfire rings. Alex and the men mounted with haste as Henry warned that their pursuers grew closer. He wondered aloud who still followed them. The distance and gloom kept Alex from recognizing any standards, but he suspected from the size, at least three, if not four, clans rallied to retrieve him. It had given him hope when despair threatened. After Henry’s explanation, he’d felt less panicked. His thoughts turned from trying to escape and likely dying to remaining alive once he was in Sully’s clutches. He planned to bide what time he had with his enemy, knowing someone sought his freedom.
As the hours passed, Alex sensed his rescuers made steady progress, despite the pace Henry set. The road divided a densely packed forest. Remaining alert to any new threat, Alex was certain he noticed movement in the woods far too large to be a wolf. Keeping his head forward, his eyes darted to his right. Whoever rode past was too far into the close-standing trunks for him to make out more than a shadow. As a single rider, despite weaving among the trees, the person moved faster than the gallowglasses and him. He was certain it was a scout sent ahead to inform Sully that he had few remaining options. Alex hoped the secret rider delivered his message before any of the men Alex rode with spied him.
When Buccleuch came into view, the only thing that relaxed was Alex’s left arm. After days of pain-jarring riding and the continuous damp air, it ached more than the few times he’d used it to ram opponents in fights. All he wanted was a scalding hot bath and Caitlyn’s ministrations, but he expected to find his accommodations in the dungeon. Villagers lurked in their doorways, terrified of the mercenary horde riding along their lanes. It was clear they were unused to such men, so it reassured Alex that hiring gallowglasses wasn’t already a customary practice for the Scotts. These people had never seen the likes of these hired killers.
“Alexander Armstrong.” Sully Scott awaited them in the bailey with a woman and David standing beside him. “Not only do I have an Armstrong miscreant spy in our midst, I have the laird’s very own heir. You violated the king’s orders and stepped foot on my land.”
“You never were a bright one. Did you finally kill your father? Because last I checked, this was still his land and his keep. I suppose your messengers failed to relay the correct message. King Robert was extremely specific that ifyoucaused more trouble, your clan’s land is forfeit. I believe Angus and my father are on their way to claim the deeds.”
“Your spy said something similar. Your father and Angus don’t ride alone. Kennedys accompany them. I hear one is finer than the rest. It’s been ages since I’ve seen Caitlyn.”
Alex fought not to dart his glance to David, angered that his trusted guard shared that Caitlyn was approaching. He was even angrier that no one tucked her safely at Dunure, or at the very least kept her at the Hermitage if she went there.
“Didn’t know that, huh?” Sully crowed. “Fear not. It wasn’t your trusted messenger. He wasn’t the first to arrive with news. I pay well to remain informed.”
Alex shifted his gaze enough to focus on the woman who stood beside Sully. Kenzie MacCabe was born in the Hebrides and raised there until she married Sully and moved to the mainland. The Scotts intended the marriage to gain them more access to the seas and trade. They’d underestimated the distance to ship goods from the border to the western isles. They’d also overestimated the Hebrideans’ willingness to partner with mainlanders. It was no secret that Sully was enamored with his wife, despite the useless alliance. As Alex watched them, he was certain Kenzie didn’t return his sentiments. But their marriage had finally been useful for more than siring a passel of children. Her connections afforded Sully the opportunity to hire the gallowglasses.
Alex watched as Kenzie scanned the men amassed in the bailey. “He’s not coming, my lady.” His voice held a note of regret when he recognized her fear as she searched for her brother and couldn’t find him. When she heard Alex’s words, she wrapped her arm around her swollen belly and stared at Alex. “His occupation got the better of him.”
“Is that a vague way of saying you killed my brother-by-marriage?” Sully demanded.
“It’s a vague way of saying I defended myself better than he attacked,” Alex countered. Sully snorted until David cleared his throat. Henry approached and bowed to Kenzie, barely sparing Sully a glance.
“Your brother was a fine leader but an impetuous mon.” Henry said no more as Kenzie nodded. She assessed Alex, taking in the scar on his face, his lame arm, and the empty scabbard at his back. He expected her to weep or launch into an angry tirade, but she merely nodded again.
“We each have a path. Some get to choose, and he did.” Kenzie turned her head to stare at Sully, and it was the first sign of anger Alex witnessed. If she grieved her brother’s loss, it was clear she blamed Sully and not Alex.
“Sully, you forgot to mention that your clan travels with mine and our allies. Your father accompanies them.” David locked gazes with Alex as he spoke. “I imagine he is eager to return home but may be delayed.”
That’s not what I expected. Where was the auld coot and how did he wind up with at least Innes and Angus? Whoever rode for Mangerton—Mitcham, most likely—must have nearly ridden his mount into the ground. That doesn’t explain how Da could already be here.
“It sounds like a trade.” Alex’s voice boomed through the bailey, ensuring everyone heard that Laird Scott was a hostage, and Sully’s choices decided his father’s and his clan’s fate. Sully’s expression took Alex aback as whispers buzzed around them. He seemed unconcerned for his father’s wellbeing and freedom. It made Alex wonder if Sully held no qualms about letting his father die despite his clan knowing he was the one with the choice. Alex’s memory flashed to the happier dreams he’d had, where he and Caitlyn had children and led their clan. He’d imagined tension with the Scotts remaining, but he’d never pictured Sully overthrowing his father.
Alex watched as Kenzie slipped away from her husband’s side. Sully didn’t notice, but he was certain Henry had. Something about their dynamic struck Alex as odd. Henry had given him no impression that he wanted to be involved with another woman after losing his wife. He supposed the mercenary sought release where he wished, but Kenzie wasn’t the type to dally with.
Henry muttered, “Cousin.”
The MacSweens and MacCabes have been thick as thieves for generations. I should have guessed. Though Henry could have told me I killed his own kin.
Alex thought he’d understood Henry, but the man remained an enigma. Rather than focus on Henry, Alex kept his attention on Sully, wondering when the power-hungry tánaiste planned to throw him in the dungeon. Sully assessed him, a wicked gleam in his eyes. When his eyes shifted to his left, Alex followed his gaze. They’d set up stocks near the well in the center of the bailey. Alex barely kept from flinching. Having his left arm trapped in the restraint for hours would create an agony that made him wish he already burned in the fires of hell.
