Page 63 of Highlander’s Quest of Desire

Four days had passed since his world had turned upside down, and Bruce was still reeling from the shock of it. Leo Sinclair, his most trusted friend, the man he had considered his brother, had stabbed him in the back and in one fell swoop taken the two things that were most important to him in this whole world.

The Honors were not his concern; they could be regained and restored. Worry for Elspeth ate at his soul. He wondered if she had been hurt, or if she had been treated well. He could no longer trust Leo to do the decent thing.

“Balquhidder’s right up that hill,” Morris drawled. “Ye want to go right up to the castle?”

“Nae,” Bruce said, his voice hoarse. “Just at the base of the hill is fine.”

“Will ye climb the hill?” Morris asked, flicking his wheat stalk on the oxen’s back.

“Aye,” Bruce said.

“’Tis well.” Morris nodded. “A climb is the best medicine for a fall. Nae potion or poultice can do better.”

“Thank ye, Morris,” Bruce said. “I would nae have gotten this far if ye hadn’t come along.”

“Ye would have,” Morris said, his calm blue eyes gazing up ahead at the horizon. “Maybe slower, but ye would have. We all reach where we need to in the end.”

He didn’t ask any questions. There had been none of that ever since they’d met. Morris had not been curious as to how Bruce had ended up at the bottom of the hill. Nor had he been interested in why Bruce wanted to go to Balquhidder or what his plan was. He had simply found a man in need and helped him in any capacity he could. Bruce suddenly wondered if Balquhidder had been on Morris’s route or had he gone out of his way.

“Well, here ye are,” Morris said, pulling the reins on his ox. The cart drew to a stop before a thick wood at the base of the hill. “God be with ye, Bruce.”

Bruce stepped off and looked up at the hill he had to climb. He’d need divine help to manage it.

“I’ll be off then.”

“Wait.” Bruce said, turning to the cart. “Where were ye headed before ye found me, Morris?”

“Edinburgh.”

“Balquhidder is out of yer way. Why did ye nae refuse?”

“Edinburgh will still be there when I finally get there. Ye needed aid, and God sent me there for a reason. All roads eventually lead to other roads, and all roads end up in Edinburgh. I just took a longer route.” Morris shrugged. This was the longest he had ever spoken in the three days they had traveled together.

“Thank ye, Morris.”

“Try nae to fall off this one, eh?”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile at the little joke. He waited at the roadside and watched Morris and his cart until it had disappeared behind a bend. Finally, Bruce turned toward the woods and out of the intensity of the sun. The shade was only a few degrees cooler and provided little relief from the general heat of the day.

The trail was hard to find. Bruce got lost twice before he found a marker he recognized. It still took him the better part of an hour to reach the ancient oak with the marking and heron’s nest, and by that time he was exhausted. The climb through the nightmare passage was going to be harder than he thought, but there was no other way.

He sat down for a minute to rest and consider his plan. Walking into Balquhidder would have been suicide. As far as Leo knew, he was dead. If Bruce was spotted anywhere by his spies, Bruce would be putting not only himself and Elspeth but also Laird Labert in danger.

The reason they were in this mess was his fault. After his stay at Balquhidder he had abandoned the need for urgency and secrecy. It was only when he had become complacent and stopped caring about remaining hidden had Leo pounced on them and left Bruce lying in the dirt, teeth kicked in and bloody. He would not be repeating that mistake again.

His mission now was to seek aid and advice from Laird Labert, and he wasn’t going to hide anything. He was sure once Laird Labert got wind of the Honors he would be more than willing to provide him with men and swords to wrest Dunnottar and Elspeth back from Leo Sinclair.

But that was a petty thought. Laird Labert had not needed the greed of the Honors to host Bruce and Elspeth for so many days, or to show Bruce the secret passage into his castle. He was sure the Laird only needed to know Elspeth was in danger to want to help, but Bruce was tired of keeping secrets. If the Honors belonged to all of Scotland then why must they be kept secret from the Scots?

After resting for half an hour under the oak tree, Bruce selected a fallen branch. With difficulty he tore up part of his cloak, his shoulder sore and aching. Winding it around the branch, he set to lighting it by striking two stones together.

He was aware that the fire wouldn’t last him all the way up to the door in the castle, but he still had a fair amount of cloak to tear off when he got to that point. A cool wave emanated from within the vine covered entrance of the passage.

Sweeping the vines aside, he entered the passage from hell. Descending a flight of stairs was much easier than climbing them. Bruce thanked the Lord that he had injured his shoulder in the fall and not one of his legs.

The terror of the place had diminished for him because the worst that could have happened to him had already happened. Elspeth had been taken from him, and he had been unable to protect her. He had never felt more ineffectual in his life. The promises he had made to her were ash in his mouth, and the taste of it would not wash out until he rescued her.

For that he needed Laird Labert’s help.