Page 27 of Stealing a Kilted Heart

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The whisky burned its way down Knox’s throat as he tossed back the remainder of it. It was still early in the day, terribly so—in fact, it was hardly dawn yet, but he hadn’t slept a wink that night. The fire in his study crackled pleasantly, the flames warming him as much as the alcohol did, but what should have been a good morning quickly turned sour with Magnus’ report.

It was that which warranted the drink, and Knox had poured them both a cup without hesitation. It spoke to Magnus’ mental state that he, too, drained it, when he usually refrained from drinking strong liquor so early in the day.

“How many camps?” Knox asked, fearing the answer.

“Three so far,” said Magnus from where he sat across from him, drumming his fingers against the armrest. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and he looked pale, but Knox knew he was no better. Both of them had spent countless sleepless nights going over strategies and reports, and it was taking a toll on them both. “Two within our borders an’ one right outside.”

“Gordon men?”

“That’s what we think.”

“But ye’re nae certain?”

Magnus drew in a sharp breath, releasing it slowly. His hand scratched the back of his head as he spoke. “Who else would it be?”

It was a good question. As far as Knox knew, they didn’t have any other enemies. Clan Stuart wasn’t friendly with all neighboring clans, but there was tentative peace in place even with those they had once considered their enemies—all save for the Gordons.

How many of those clans would support the Gordon forces if it came to it, Knox wondered? How many could Alastair Gordon pull to his side and, could Knox work on arranging some alliances before Laird Gordon could?

But they are already in our lands. An’ who kens how many more will come?

“Who gave the report?” Knox asked, though he was quite certain he already knew the answer. He doubted it was Callum’s group, but even now, he thought perhaps it would be good to give him the benefit of doubt.

“Fergus,” said Magnus. “Rode in the middle o’ the night tae alert us.”

Just as Knox had thought. Fergus wasn’t from Callum’s group, but rather from one of the other few he had sent out in search of Gordon forces. He let out a long sigh, letting the weariness sink in without trying to fight it for once. He was tired; Magnus was tired. He didn’t think there was anyone in the clan anymore who didn’t feel the same weariness in their bones, the same prolonged fatigue that came with constantly being on high alert.

News had spread, naturally, despite Knox’s best efforts to contain the rumors and to reassure the nobles and their wives. Everyone knew by then that the clan was preparing for an attack and Knox could feel the restlessness and the fear of everyone else around enveloping the entire castle. The very air seemed to have shifted, something in it becoming heavy and oppressive, and he could feel it whenever he passed the servants, the maids, and the soldiers in the hallways and courtyards.

It affected him greatly, more than he would have liked to admit. No matter how much he tried to tell himself they were prepared for this, it was easy to lose faith.

“Stayin’ here an’ drinkin’ all day willnae help with this,” Magnus said, standing up with a decisive inhale. “Come, let us fish.”

“Fish?” Knox couldn’t help but snort at that, the sound as disbelieving as it was inelegant. “Dae ye truly think it’s time tae fish?”

“I think it will clear yer head,” Magnus said. “That’s what ye need, some time tae think about other things.”

“Like fish?”

“Like fish.”

Knox stared at his friend, rather certain that he would soon reveal he was only joking, only to find that he was entirely serious. Magnus gave him an encouraging nod and despite himself, Knox stood and followed him out of the study, his footsteps heavy and dragging.

Perhaps Magnus was right, he thought. Maybe all he truly needed were a few hours to himself, a few hours during which he could do nothing but stare out at the lake and think.

The more he thought about it, the more appealing the prospect became. He had been working very hard in the past few weeks and he deserved a break. If nothing else, Magnus was right—it would help clear his head. Fishing always did. It was one of those activities that calmed him like nothing else, letting his troubles melt away for a short while.

It was early in the day, too, which meant they could have a good catch. Dawn had just begun to break in the horizon and the lake was close enough to the castle grounds to reach it before the sun was too far up. Just as they were walking through the courtyard, though, Effie’s familiar voice called out to them, and Knox turned around to see her there with a basket full of herbs, Fia standing next to her.

As Effie rushed towards them, Fia followed, trailing after her. Effie put the basket down, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Magnus, I was wonderin’ where ye went,” she said, as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a creased letter. “This came fer ye last night.”

“What is it?” Knox asked as Magnus unfolded the piece of paper, perusing its contents. He cursed quietly under his breath when he read it, and Knox, ever curious, tried to read it over his shoulder.

“A disturbance in Duror,” Magnus said. “Dinnae fash, I’ll go down an’ see what happened. Ye can go tae the loch.”