“How much did they pay ye, Drew?” Thor wondered what the man valued his own life to be worth. He sacrificed his life for those coins.
“That doesnae concern ye.”
“So nae nearly enough to make up for ye dying.” Thor shook his head and tsked.
“Ye’ll be dead long before I am, Sinclair.”
“Ye daft sod. I’ll live because there isnae a clan alive that wishes to be slaughtered, which is exactly what will happen if I dinna return to Dunbeath as hale as I am now. But now that ye’ve tracked me, ye’ve served yer purpose. Ye willna be left to live. None of ye will be. The Gunns dinna need ye now, and the MacDonnells and MacDonalds never gave a shite aboot ye. They willna let ye live to tell the tale. They’ll kill ye and take their coin back.” Thor figured if the leaders of the three clans hadn’t already planned that, he’d given them a good idea that would allow Thor to gain the revenge he wanted without having to worry that he couldn’t do it himself.
“They will do nay such—”
An arrow protruded from Drew’s throat. Thor recognized the MacDonald fletching that vibrated as blood spurted around the arrowhead. The archer severed the man’s jugular. The other Keiths sat in stunned silence before they scrambled to turn their horses. While they weren’t as close to the larger group of riders as Drew had been, they were still within firing range. With the round of arrows, Thor recognized the MacDonalds’ and MacDonnells’ feather patterns on the end of the shafts.
“Nae just a bonnie face. He has a bit of brains to him.”
Thor didn’t recognize the voice, but it belonged to a man Thor assumed he was a leader. It shocked him to catch sight of the Macnaughten plaid. The man wasn’t a chieftain or laird Thor knew, but he was from Greer’s mother’s clan. Why would he ride with these men when his own ally, John Gallda MacDougall, petitioned King Edward for Greer’s hand? Thor would observe him before he drew any conclusions or gave away any information that might bring the English to his family’s door.
“Enough clishmaclavering,” Wallace croaked. “We ride.”
No one paid him any attention. Matthew looked back at the MacDonalds and their distant brethren, the MacDonnells. “Do something with these bodies. Even if ye pull yer arrows from them, it’s still obvious they’re Keiths. We’ll already have them breathing down our bluidy necks because they’re allied with the Sinclairs now. We dinna need to make it worse.”
“Since when are ye worried aboot keeping the peace with the Keiths?” Wallace demanded, his voice weak.
“We dinna need to deal with all the world’s problems at once. First, we get ourselves back to Gunn Castle. Then, ye can sort out yer second for the single combat.”
Single combat? Against whom? Me, I suppose. I’ve already drawn first blood. I’m certain that piece of shite intends it to be to the death, but he canna fight me now. He’s likely to die before we even make camp for the night. If only I should be so lucky. He canna do aught to Greer if he’s dead. And I willna have to fight him. I dinna fear losing to him or whoever he’d force into fighting me. But I dinna want to waste the time. I need to get to Dunbeath. Ma cousins are most likely taking Greer there. They willna bring her anywhere near these men or Gunn Castle. Uncle Tristan will come for me.
Thor watched seven MacDonalds break off from the group and ride to the slain Keiths. They tossed the dead men over their horses’ backs and led the horses back to the MacDonalds’ mounts. Thor knew they would ride to the coast, which was only a few miles away, and dump the bodies. Then these men would ride for Gunn Castle. If they were smart, they would don the Keith plaids, then just keep their distance from that clan as they passed along the Keith and Sinclair border. He wouldn’t give them any suggestions, but he doubted they would think to do that.
“Thor,” Dominic muttered. He looked at his friend and realized the others were on the move. He urged Gaisgeach to follow the other horses as they rode across the bogland. There were parts that threatened to suck man and beast under. The MacDonnells and MacDonalds weren’t as experienced with the landscape, so their animals tried to rebel, not liking the uncertainty they faced with each step. It took the riders’ full concentration, while the Gunns, Thor, and Dominic easily picked their way across the hidden ponds and sodden peat.
They progressed nowhere near as far as they would without the Highlanders who weren’t from Caithness. They’d barely made it to reliably solid ground before dusk. The men who’d broken off and dealt with the dead Keiths were already waiting for them. Many men, including Gunns, grumbled that they should have cut through the woods too and found the road like they’d planned but opted not to at the Macnaughten leader’s insistence. Thor wouldn’t disagree. But once they allowed him off his horse, his mind moved to what he and Dominic could do to escape. The two Sinclair men stood together.
“I still have thesgian dubhat the back of ma belt.” Thor’s leine billowed over his belt and easily hid the short knife’s handle. The blade was far shorter than any of his other dirks, except for thesgian dubhshe usually wore in his boots, but it was sharper than the longer blades. It was deadly with little effort.
“Same. If I can get to yers, I can cut yer ropes, then ye can do the same for me.”
“Aye. We’ll have to wait till dark. As much as I’d love to kill them all in their sleep, we must run the moment we can. Even if we havenae freed our hands, we have to take the chance if it comes.”
“We dinna have our swords, but they arenae doing aught to secure them. Look.” Dominic jutted his chin toward where a Gunn rested them both near a tree.”
“When the time comes, ye get the swords, and I’ll get the horses.” Gaisgeach wouldn’t go with anyone but Thor. At least, not without making a fuss. Dominic’s warhorse was more tolerant of people leading him places, but he would refuse to move if anyone but Dominic attempted to ride him. Thor often teased Dominic that his horse was more stubborn than a four-year-old who didn’t want to nap. Dominic would tell him that Gaisgeach was a cantankerous old man, just like his owner.
“Sounds good. Which—” Dominic snapped his mouth shut as men commanded them to take their horses to the loch where they would make camp. Neither reacted to taking orders from the Gunns, but it rankled. Once their horses were watered and they ensured they’d picked a spot with plenty of grass for the beasts, the two men found spots to lean against a tree. They would sit back-to-back if they had to, but they wouldn’t leave their backs voluntarily unprotected.
Night fell and morning came with no chance for escape. They’d been bound to the tree, and Gunns stood watch over them all night. Emmanuel assigned two men to each of them, clearly trusting them not all. They mounted at dawn and continued to ride east until they crossed onto Gunn land during the late afternoon. When the clan’s keep appeared in the distance, Thor’s rage burst back to the surface. The mere sight of where they tortured Greer for years threatened to steal any of Thor’s common sense.
The urge to rampage and kill anyone within reach threatened to rob him of his sanity. He breathed through it, and he knew Dominic was prepared to stop him. Only thinking about how vulnerable his actions would leave Greer kept him from acting. She’d been right when she asked what would become of her if he died. His family would take care of her and allow her to remain since she’d become family the moment they married by consent. But it wouldn’t be the same. He didn’t want to do that to her. He wouldn’t intentionally or carelessly make her a widow.
He knew she should make it to Dunbeath before nightfall the next day since the weather remained sound. He also knew his Mackay family wasn’t far behind them. He’d heard Mackay scouts calling to one another, and he’d even heard a Sinclair. Neither he nor Dominic could respond, but they’d exchanged glances each time. It reassured them both that their clansmen and the Mackays continued to follow them, and some even road apace with them while they still kept their distance. He hadn’t doubted Tristan followed him, but it was easy to forget and despair when he couldn’t see them.
The first man he spied when he passed beneath the portcullis and into the Gunns’ bailey was Albert. His eyes widened to saucers when he recognized Thor, then he scanned the group to find Greer. When he couldn’t spot his daughter, he looked back at Thor. The younger man realized the older warrior took Thor’s grim expression to mean Greer was dead. Albert’s distress was visible even from a distance. Thor softened his mouth to a half smile and nodded when he caught Albert’s gaze again. The man placed his fist over his heart and rubbed. Thor feared he’d almost given Greer’s true father a heart attack.
When men pulled Thor from Gaisgeach’s back, Matthew came to stand before him. Thor knew that man would never forgive him for thwarting the councilman’s plans. He expected to find his accommodations in the dungeon, but Matthew had a different way of punishing Thor. “Lock him in Lady Greer’s chamber.”
Men separated Thor and Dominic, the latter going to the dungeon. Thor fought against men as they wrangled him through the keep’s front door and toward the stairs. Despite his hands still being bound, he fought many of them off. He wrapped one hand around the other and made a mighty fist that he swung sideways, forwards, and down depending on how he could reach an opponent. He kicked and rammed his shoulders, even snapping his teeth and catching a man’s triceps. He wouldn’t willingly go into that chamber where he would find reminders of Greer’s past. It wasn’t until something struck his temple, making him go limp, that he gave up his fight.
* * *
