Page 32 of Highland Dove

“I’ll kill ye!” shouted Angus, fighting against the guards still dressed as a gypsy wench. If he’d had his sword hidden under his clothes, he might have had half a chance. But now he was no match for so many men being unarmed.

“If ye werena my wife, and covered in blisters, I’d throw ye in the dungeon, too,” said Eideard. “Now go back to yer room and dinna come out until yer skin is healed.”

Mari was so upset that she started to cry.

As Angus passed her by, being held back by four men, he looked over and said something in a soft voice.

“Dinna worry, Mari. Ye are a Highland dove, like Duncan says. Doves mate for life, and will always remain true and reveal the truth in any situation.”

“Quit yer babblin’,” said Eideard. “Throw him in the dungeon until I can decide how to use him to my advantage. I never should have trusted gypsies to begin with.”

As they all left, Mari got to her feet and ran to her room. She plopped down on her bed crying, rubbing her locket for strength. Everything was ruined, and there was no way Duncan’s plans could ever succeed now.

* * *

It was nearly nightfall when Duncan heard the sound of wagon wheels on the road coming right for Clan Stewart. He’d been training with the men all day, and had just sat down to talk to Daniel. “Who could that be?”

He jumped out of the chair, drawing his sword, making his way out the door. He was about to call for the rest of the men of the clan, hoping it wasn’t Eideard attacking. But then he recognized the wagon of the old gypsy.

“Malmuira?” He peered into the darkness. The wagon stopped and someone emerged from the back. He half-expected to see Mari or Angus, but instead it was Tillie and her young daughters.

“Tillie!” came Daniel’s cry from behind him. He held on to Forba for strength and hobbled over to the wagon.

“Da!” Tillie put her children down and they all ran over to hug her father. Duncan headed over to help the old gypsy from the wagon as well.

“Why are ye here?” asked Duncan. “Has somethin’ happened?”

“Yer brathair was dressed as a gypsy wench readin’ Eideard’s palm, tryin’ to find yer mathair when he was caught.” The old gypsy relayed the information.

“So my brathair was really readin’ palms?” Duncan would have chuckled if she hadn’t said he was caught. “Please tell me he is all right.”

“They took him to the dungeon,” Tillie told them.

“What about Mari?” asked Duncan, his heart speeding up. “Did he hurt her?”

“We dinna ken,” admitted the gypsy. “Mari stayed behind to distract Eideard so we could escape.”

“That sounds like my daughter,” said Daniel, hugging his family.

“How did he get caught?” asked Duncan, shaking his head.

“He lost a pillow.” The old gypsy patted her breasts to explain. “But right before he was discovered, he told us that Eideard had given him a clue where to find yer mathair.”

“Where is she?” asked Duncan anxiously. “Tell me everythin’.”

“We dinna ken,” said Tillie. “They took him away before he could tell us.”

“Then I’m goin’ there to spring my wee brathair and find out where our mathair is.”

“But what about the attack?” asked Daniel.

“Ye’ll have to contact the MacKeefes and handle it for me,” said Duncan. “I’ll work from the inside.”

“Our chieftain almost died and can barely stand,” snorted Forba. “Ye canna expect him to fight or lead the attack.”

“Duncan was imprisoned and almost died, too,” said Malmuira. “Yet he is doin’ it.”

“Nay, she’s right,” said Duncan with a raised hand. “If I go there before the army is ready, I might only make things worse. Hopefully, Mari will figure it out and somehow get word to us.”