Page 44 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

He really had better things to be doing right then. For a start, he did not really want to leave Fiona all on her own. Maybe she might make out she was alright, but Clyde knew the area was a hotspot for thieves and brigands.

Shaking off a desire to tut, Clyde nodded at Bruce, as if he understood what he was blathering about. He did not know the gangly courtier well but just well enough to know that he could blather on for the Highlands, if not the whole of Scotland.

"As I saw ye crossin' the glen, I thought I would come an' check things were alright," Bruce continued, still not getting to the point. He smiled vaguely, as if this was all some big chance encounter.

For his part, Clyde did not believe a word of it. Whatever else was afoot, Bruce hadn't just happened across him in a thousand acres of wooded glen.

"Things are braw," said Clyde, his face drawn into a tight smile. Even Bruce must have seen that it was time for him to speak.

"Well, I just hope the mission is going well," he said, finally, with a little glance to Clyde.

"Mission?" said Clyde. Bruce nodded and looked around as if afraid of being overheard.

"Aye, ye ken, tae find the missing gold," he said in an underhand whisper. Clyde was caught in a crossfire of emotion. On the one hand, Bruce was maddening; on the other, he was so absurd he did not know how to react.

"Ach, that," said Clyde with a nod. Inside, he sighed. It should have been obvious this was what Bruce had been sent to talk about. Clearly, Anderson was checking up on him. With a little smile, he continued, "Well, dinnae fash, Bruce. It's all going braw."

It wasn't, of course, but Clyde had zero intention of telling sticky beak Bruce that. But a serious look crossed Bruce's face. His earlier demeanor gone, the tall courtier pulled him closer in an aside.

"Sir," he said, in a voice that was at once subservient but also chiding. "Master bids ye tae be quick. He doesnae want tae be kept waiting, else there may be consequences."

Bruce's light eyes raised meaningfully. "He bids that ye find the gold speedily an' hasten back tae the Anderson castle. Else yer clanship be in jeopardy."

Finally, he had it. After what felt like hours of getting there, Bruce's demand lay bare: get your act together or else. It could hardly be more clear.

"I see," said Clyde, after some hesitation. And he did see. He turned his head to speak, about to formulate a polite version of go bile yer heid when a loud scream erupted from the hillside.

It was Fiona.

The scream rang around the glen, piercing everything in its grip. As the hands around Fiona grew tighter, the louder she cried.

"Shut yer geggie," the man hissed. His hand crept around her neck, filling Fiona with a torrent of fear.

And rage.

There was no way she was going to stand back and just let these men take her. Biting down hard, Fiona sunk her teeth into the bandit's hand. Instantly, he screamed.

"Och, ye wee witch, ye’re gonnae be sorry for that!"

She could not see his face, but his voice was rough and coarse. As were his hands, terrifying and hairy around her face. The smell of him in her face made her sick, and Fiona could not stop herself from screaming out loud afresh.

"Come here, ye." The man grasped her and passed her to someone else. It was only then that Fiona realized he was not alone. There were three of them!

Her eyes widening in fear, she could see a third man somewhere a little way behind, acting as a lookout in the small clearing in the copse.

Before she could see more, the second man grabbed her tightly; his thickened hands smothered her. But this time, she could not scream. Desperate to get free, Fiona writhed beneath his grip. It was to no avail.

"Noo, Lady Duncan, nae ’til ye tell us where the loot is!" snarled the first man, and for the first time, she saw his face. He was gnarled and quite old, albeit with still enough fight in him to pack a punch. His younger companion, who held her, sneered horribly at her.

Fiona instantly shrank away. He may have been younger, but his teeth were rotten and black.

Fiona's eyes opened wider. "What do ye ken about that?" she asked. Then she wished she had not. Because in an instant, she had given it all away.

"So, it's real then?" cackled the younger man. Behind him, the older one just leered. Fiona looked at them, thinking. She had said too much and was desperate to put it right.

"Nay," she said, a little less than convincingly. "No one kens where it is or if it's even real."

The older man looked at her directly. Then, he grabbed her face and dragged it around. "Listen, lass... Half the Highlands kens the story o' yer father's missing gold, so dinnae try an' tell me any tall tales."