Had Mary betrayed him? For one horrible moment, he wondered. But he quickly pushed the thought aside. She wouldn’t. No matter how angry, he refused to believe she’d condemn him to the same fate as Atholl.
But it was clear something was wrong. The moment he rode through the gate, he could feel the men moving into position behind him.
He swore. Catching sight of Percy coming down the stairs of the Great Hall, he knew from the cold fury on the knight’s face that he was in trouble. Whether it was his unexplained absence, Felton giving him up for illegal fighting, or something else, he wasn’t going to stay and find out.
His time in the English camp was over, and he liked his chances of getting out now with only a handful of men behind him better than he did from a pit prison.
He could be completely wrong, but if he’d learned anything in this long war, it was that when in doubt, trust your senses. Sometimes they were the only things that kept you alive.
He didn’t hesitate. Swinging his mount around, he plunged through the men who’d come around to block his exit. The sudden move caught them by surprise, but one man managed to get his sword up in time to take a good swing at him. Kenneth yanked the sword from the scabbard at his back and managed to save his leg—and more importantly, his horse—from the soldier’s blade.
With a fierce cry, he landed another blow at one of the men guarding the portcullis to his right. Reacting quickly, he fended off a blow from the man at his left. He could hear the shouts behind him to lower the gate, to not let him escape, but it was too late. Lowering his head to the neck of his mount, he tore out the gate. He tried not to think about the arrows that were going to start raining on him from above—
He flinched as an arrow found its mark right in his back. But he felt more the impact than pain, and suspected it had only found the steel of his mail. A second arrow grazed his arm as he started to weave, the quick changes of direction making it harder for them to hold a target.
An arrow hit the flank of his horse, but it, too, found armor. The heavily armored warhorses the English favored might not be as maneuverable and quick as the smaller mounts used by the Scots, but at times they had their advantages.
He focused on his destination—the tree line about a hundred yards ahead—and rode as fast as his already tired horse could carry him. He knew he should be out of arrow range soon. The shots didn’t seem to be falling as often or as close. Gritting his teeth he held on, praying that his fortune held out for a few more minutes…
It did. He plunged through the trees and heaved a sigh of relief. He’d made it. But he wasn’t safe yet. They would be hunting him.
His mouth fell in a grim line. This sure as hell wasn’t the exit he had planned from England. His mission had just exploded in his face. He’d lost his chance to find proof for his suspicions, and worse, extracting Mary had just become much more dangerous. Her son would have to wait.
But he didn’t have time to dwell on his failure. All he could think of was Mary. A cold chill permeated his blood. They would come for her, too. He had to reach her first.
Instead of taking the road to Huntlywood, he steered his mount on the more direct route through the treacherous terrain of the countryside. He needed all the extra time he could make. The English might guess where he was headed, but he had no intention of being there when they arrived.
Mary had thought there could be no worse moment than learning that her husband had deceived her, that he was actually aligned with Bruce and intended to take her back to Scotland.
But that wasn’t the worst moment at all. The worst moment was seeing the ill-concealed smugness on Sir John’s face when he announced that a warrant had been issued for Kenneth’s arrest.
She’d nearly fainted and might have fallen to the ground had Sir Adam not caught her.
“You’d better have a damned good explanation for this, Felton,” Sir Adam demanded, after seeing her safely to a bench.
Mary listened in horror as Sir John explained. The purported charge was for illegal fighting, but Kenneth was also suspected of treason. According to Sir John, Kenneth had failed a test of his loyalty when he’d delivered a missive with a cracked seal. His desertion today only made his situation worse. Where was he?
Mary smothered a sob. The thought of her husband imprisoned and possibly executed…
Her stomach knifed. Every fiber of her being recoiled in absolute horror.
But once the shock faded, Mary knew Sir John had brought a clarity of mind that she might not have reached so quickly on her own. When faced with her husband’s arrest, the truth in her heart could not be denied. She was furious at him for deceiving her, but she still loved him.
“Find him,” Sir John ordered his men.
“I already told you he isn’t here,” Sir Adam said, his normally even temperament giving way to icy fury. “Are you questioning my word?”
Sir John smiled. “I just don’t want there to be any confusion. You have known Sutherland and his wife for many years, haven’t you?”
Sir Adam’s face turned florid. “Have care, Felton. Think carefully before you impugn my loyalty. When you are proved wrong, it will go badly for you. I will make sure of it.”
Felton was instantly contrite. Sir Adam was a powerful man, one of the most influential Scots on the English side, and making an enemy of him could prove costly. “I meant no offense. I was ordered to return the Earl of Atholl to the castle immediately, and to search for Sutherland. I am merely following orders.”
“Then be quick about it,” Sir Adam bit out. “And then get the hell out of here.”
While Sir John oversaw the search, Sir Adam tried to comfort Mary.
“Try not to upset yourself,” he said. “I’m sure it will all be cleared up soon.”
