Page 59 of Highland Steel

“Oh, no!” cried Wren. “That is terrible. Storm, you need to do something to help her before the Drummonds find her and kill her.”

“I told ye those Sassenachs were goin’ to be nothin’ but trouble,” spat Storm. “Get the men together,” he said, shaking his head. “We leave for the Drummonds in an hour.”

There was a lot of hustle and bustle in camp when word got out of Rhoswen being gone and Logan planning on leaving as well. Most of the clan was eager to help, being Highland warriors and always ready for a fight. But Logan could see that the wives and children of the men didn’t want them to go.

He felt terrible for the way things were turning out. So he did the only thing he could to try to help Rhoswen, save the boy and the sword, and also protect his clan members. As soon as everyone walked away, he turned on his heel and headed for his horse.

“Come on, Jack,” he commanded his wolf. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us and we have no time to lose.”

* * *

Rhoswen awoke with a jerk as the wagon came to a stop. It was dark inside the enclosure, but sunlight streamed in from the cracks in the wood on the sides. She got to her knees and put her eye up to one of the cracks, able to see they were in the courtyard of a castle.

Her heart sped up when she saw Highlanders with very big swords strapped to their sides approaching the cart.

“Bug, what the hell have ye got for us today?” asked one of the men who wore the clan badge on his shoulder that identified him as their chieftain, Ranulph. He also wore the Sword of Triumph strapped to his side.

“Chieftain, I have got a surprise for ye. Just wait until ye see the wooden bowls and goblets and even whittled toys for the young ones,” Bug told him. “I have a wooden horse for that little son of yers that he is just goin’ to love.”

“A toy for Lockie?” asked one of the women, walking up to the chieftain, holding a baby boy. “He would love it.”

Rhoswen’s heart about broke when she noticed the heart-shaped birthmark on the boy’s cheek, just like Bug had told Logan. So this was her nephew. Her sister’s son! Tears filled Rhoswen’s eyes. She’d finally found him.

“Nay. No toys for the bastard boy, he doesna need them,” grumbled Ranulph Drummond.

“But my laird,” protested the woman. “The boy is young and needs to play.”

“No’ another word!” Drummond’s hand shot out and he slapped the woman across the face, managing to graze the baby as well. The woman gasped and the baby started crying. “Shut that thing up before I’m tempted to do it myself.” Drummond pulled his sword from his sheath. The baby cried louder.

“My laird, please,” said Bug. “Dinna bother yerself with trivial things like bairns. Why dinna ye come and choose somethin’ from my wagon – one thing for free today, just because I’m in a guid mood.”

“I dinna want anything whittled by that dunderhead MacKeefe!” spat Drummond.

“Of course no’. I understand,” said Bug, putting the key in the lock. “But I have plenty of other things ye might be interested in. Shall we take a look?”

“Mmph,” grumbled Drummond. “This better be worth my while or I’ll have yer head.”

The sound of Bug removing the padlock echoed in Rhoswen’s ears. Drummond was standing at the door to the wagon and there was no way she would be able to escape him now. The door creaked and moaned as Bug pulled it open. Rhoswen dove beneath the furs and blankets, praying that Drummond wouldn’t notice her here. She had just pulled the blanket up over her head when the door opened.

“I dinna see anything I want,” complained Drummond. “Ye can leave here now, because ye are wastin’ my precious time.”

Rhoswen didn’t dare breathe, trying to stay hidden.

“All right, if ye say so,” said Bug, starting to close the door. Rhoswen was lying right next to some jars of herbs, one of them being pepper. When the cart came to a stop, the cork must have fallen out. Now, peppercorns lay on the wood right next to her nose. She tried to hold back the sneeze and had almost succeeded. But she sneezed before Bug had closed the door all the way, getting Drummond’s attention.

“Ah-choo!” she sneezed, feeling as if her life were over.

“Wait, what was that I heard?” asked Drummond.

“I didna hear anythin’,” Bug told him.

“Ye’re half-deaf, so of course ye didna hear it,” he snapped. “Open that door anon.”

“Aye, my laird,” said Bug, slowly opening the door to the wagon. Rhoswen tried to cover herself more with the blanket.

“Get out of the way!” Drummond pushed Bug aside and threw the door open. “Ye just came from the MacKeefe’s, didna ye?”

“Well, aye. I told ye I had the things that Logan whittles.”