The stable door was also standing open and when she entered, she saw her uncle at the end of the stables. “Wot are ye doing?” she asked him, hurrying toward the stall. “Ye will catch yer death out here!”
He turned, confusion his gaze. “I heard one of the horses raising a ruckus. I thought someone was stealing them.”
Ida looked around, seeing nothing out of place. “Perhaps tis was just a dream.”
Her uncle put his hands on his hips. “Perhaps.” His tone of voice told her that he didn’t believe it himself, but it was clear that everything seemed just as she had left it earlier. “Come,” she said, holding out her hand toward him. “Let’s go back tae bed.”
The sound of something clattering across the floor caught both of their attention and Ida reared back as she realized it was a lighted torch, the hay nearby catching on fire the moment it landed. “Ida!” her uncle yelled, grabbing her and pulling away from the threat. Quickly, Ida wrenched out of his hands and grabbed the blanket hanging on the wall, throwing it over the fire to snuff it out. “The horses!” she called out, racing to the stalls. “We need to get them out of here!”
Another torch hit the floor but Ida ignored it, her fingers fumbling with the leather straps that held the horses in their stalls. They would be unable to protect themselves if she left them in here.
The torch took the hay up in a ball of fire and Ida yelped as she felt the heat on her face, slapping the horse on its flank toget it to run to safety. “Run!” she told her uncle, moving to the next stall to release the terrified horse. “Run!”
“Ye never saw who it was?” the laird demanded, pulling Ida out of her thoughts.
Ida shook her head, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Nay, I dinna.” She didn’t know who would do such a thing to innocent horses, but whoever it was had lured them out to perish as well. Clearly, the horses were not the center of their attack.
The laird swore and Ida turned her attention back to the two injured men that were currently being tended to. It mattered not right now. She needed Ian and her uncle to be alright. They could deal with the culprit later.
After a while, one of the healers approached them, wiping her hands on a rag. “Both are still alive. Laird Wallace has still not awakened, but yer uncle is.”
Ida’s heart went into her throat and she made her way to him, finding his eyes opened. “Yer alive,” she breathed, touching his hand.
He nodded, tears leaking from the corner of his eye. “Takes more than that tae kill mah.”
Ida let out a choked laugh, pressing her face to his tunic that smelled like thick smoke. “Ye should have run when I told ye tae run.”
“I couldna leave ye,” he said, his hand brushing over her head. “Yer mah family.”
Never before had her uncle said something like that to her and it only made her burst into tears.
“Brother.”
Ida raised her head to see the laird next to the table, his jaw clenched but relief flickered in his eyes.
“Brother,” uncle said slowly, reaching out with his free hand.
The laird took it and Ida swore she saw a glimmer of tears in Laird MacGregor’s eyes before he blinked them away, clearing his throat. “Did ye see who did this?” he asked tightly.
Uncle took in a breath, a fitful cough escaping him, which took several moments. Once he had been given some water and helped to a seated position, he looked at his brother. “Wallace.”
Ida immediately shook her head. “Nay,” she stated, looking over at Ian’s still form still being tended to with Iris at his side. “He wouldna.”
“Nay lass,” her uncle interrupted, shaking his head. “Not Ian. Tis another Wallace. I saw, I saw his tartan before he disappeared through the doorway.”
Ida sucked in a breath. “Are ye certain?” Why would someone from Ian’s men set their stables on fire? Their own horses were stabled there.
“Right before ye entered,” he said, clearing his throat. “I saw them hurry out. I think they were going to shut mah in but ye frightened them.”
“Bleedy hell,” the laird muttered, sliding a hand through his greying hair.
“We will handle this,” Stephan said, stepping up to the group, his expression hard. “I am laird in mah brother’s stead. I am asking ye tae allow mah tae find out who did this.”
The laird clenched his jaw and Ida held her breath, hoping that he wouldn’t declare that all Wallaces should be thrown into the dungeon. If he did, all thoughts of peace would be lost and Ian would be fighting for his life for nothing. “Fine,” he finally said, a weary look about him. “But ye will do it with mah men.”
“Of course,” Stephan replied, setting his jaw.
“I will help,” James added, coming to stand beside Stephan, Iris clutching his hand. “We canna allow this tae happen tae both clans, not when we want peace.”
