“Two days.”
Glenis opened her mouth to protest, but she quickly shut it. “I hope ye’ll have room for the apple pudding I baked ye,” she said instead.
Madeleine sat down at the kitchen table. “Aye, Glenis, if ye think my figure winna be the worse for it,” she replied playfully.
Glenis ladled a hearty portion of stew into a bowl and returned to the table. “Ye have nothing to fear on that score, lass. Ye’re as sleek and slim as a colt.” She set the bowl before Madeleine. “Now eat. I’ll fetch ye some bannocks.”
Madeleine savored the chunks of chicken and leeks in a thick broth laced with herbs, the warm oatcakes spread with golden butter, and the strong tea. Under Glenis’s approving eye she finished every morsel, including a slice of pudding topped with brandy sauce. She knew it would be several days before she’d enjoy such a meal again.
But, God willing, if tonight’s raid went as planned, she and the villagers would have a rich beef stew simmering in their kettles before the week was out.
Chapter 3
“‘Tis time to wake, Maddie,” Angus Ramsay whispered, shaking Madeleine’s shoulder gently. “The moon is up.”
Awakened so abruptly, Madeleine did not know where she was for a moment. Gradually the mists of sleep faded from her mind, and reality took its place. The pungent smell of pine, the soft lowing of cattle, and the rushing sound of a nearby river further heightened her awareness.
Remembering suddenly, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. They had made camp here this morning after their successful cattle raid. Now it was dark and time to move on toward Farraline.
Madeleine twisted around and groped along the woolen blanket. She found her black cap and set it atop her head, then stuffed her thick chestnut braid down the high collar of her jacket. Lastly she scooped a handful of peat ash from a pouch hanging at her belt and rubbed the soot on her face and forehead.
“Are the others awake, Angus?” she asked, accepting his hand as he helped her to her feet.
“Aye, we’re ready to be off, lass,” Angus replied, nodding to the four men who were already astride their horses. “I let ye sleep awhile longer,” he added, almost apologetically. “Ye looked so tired when we stopped this morn.”
Madeleine smiled. “That was kind of ye, Angus. I’m fine now.” She swept up her blanket from the moss covered ground, ducking the fir branches that had served as a protective bower for her bed. She walked to her mount and crammed the blanket into the leather saddlebag.
She stifled a groan as she lifted her foot to the stirrup and threw a trousered leg over the horse. Her body was stiff and sore from the long journey, though she would never have admitted it to her kinsmen. No doubt they were just as uncomfortable. Driving cattle through the mountains was not an easy task.
Madeleine waited patiently while Angus mounted his horse, her eyes quickly growing accustomed to the darkness of the surrounding forest.
She noted the burly silhouettes of Kenneth and Allan Fraser, two russet-haired brothers who had fought at Culloden and had managed to escape with their lives. They were fugitives who now made their home in a remote cave on Beinn Bhuidhe, a mountain to the east of Farraline, but they had chosen to risk capture and accompany her on her raids against the English.
The Fraser brothers were a tough pair. They were much more inclined to shooting redcoats than stealing from them, yet they had obeyed her command that there would be no needless killing. She hoped she could continue to hold their thirst for revenge in check. Stealing was one thing, but cold-blooded murder was another.
Then there were Ewen Burke and his seventeen-year-old son, Duncan. They were true clansmen—as was Angus Ramsay—though they did not bear the Fraser surname. Clan Fraser was made up of many such men not related by blood, descendants of those who had sworn their allegiance to successive Lovat chieftains in exchange for a small parcel of rented farmland and the chief’s protection.
Ewen, Angus, and Duncan had stayed behind last autumn—along with a small group of tenants from each village—to tend the cattle herds when the Frasers of Strathherrick had marched to war. Now these three men rode beside her, taking great pride in regaining a measure of what had been stolen from their clan.
Madeleine gathered up the reins, breathing a swift prayer of thanks for the five men who had so boldly taken up her cause. She could never have accomplished so much without them.
“Kenneth, ride ahead and keep watch,” she directed, her voice low. “Until we reach Loch Mhor we’ll be traveling a bit closer to Wade’s Road than I’d like. But there’s no help for it if we want to make Aberchalder Burn before dawn. Remember, if ye see anything suspicious, give us fair warning.”
“Aye, Maddie,” Kenneth replied, flicking the reins against his mount’s neck. The spirited animal jerked forward, and horse and rider disappeared into the dense pine forest. Only the swaying branches marked their path.
“Allan, take the lead since ye know this land so well. Duncan, Angus, ye take the rear. Ewen and I will keep the cattle moving down the middle.”
Without a word the men followed her orders explicitly. It made no difference to them that she was a woman, and barely nineteen. As it had been to her father, their loyalty to her was as natural to them as breathing, and if they had had any question at all about her ability to wage such a campaign against the redcoats, such doubts had long since vanished. She had proved time and again through her courage, daring, and sound judgment that she was born to lead.
The Highland cattle, with their shaggy, reddish-brown coats and long, curved horns, plodded along the narrow drover’s path, tied to one another by a thick length of rope. Madeleine was still amazed by the smoothness of last night’s raid, in which they hadn’t encountered a single English soldier. The redcoats were most likely too comfortable lying next to their fires to guard the cattle, she thought scornfully as she recalled the distant orange glow of campfires at the mouth of Glen Doe near Wade’s Road.
Tension gripped her body as a commotion at the front of the line ground the procession to an abrupt halt. She dug her heels into the horse’s sides and raced along the winding path, Ewen not far behind her.
“Allan, what’s going on? Why have we stopped?” she hissed, suddenly spying Kenneth alongside him. Her heart leaped in her throat. If Kenneth had ridden back to them so soon, that could only mean trouble.
“There’s redcoats up ahead, Maddie!” Kenneth blurted out in a loud whisper before his brother could answer. “They’re camped just over the rise, less than a quarter mile from here.”
“How many?” she asked tightly.
