Page 4 of Savage Kilted Highlander

After drinking from a waterskin—he would have loved a cup of hot tea but dared not light a fire in case it drew attention from the castle guard—he ate some bread and cheese, then settled back comfortably against the trunk of a large oak tree. From where he was sitting, he could keep an eye on the comings and goings of the castle without any effort, which was what he had been doing for several days.

Castle Ferniehurst stood crouched on its rocky promontory less than a quarter of a mile away from him, a grey, brooding, granite beast. Though Laird Kerr commanded many other strongholds throughout his extensive territories, Ferniehurst was his preferred residence. It was also Lady Agnes’ permanent home, which was the reason Bane was there. Over the last few days, the castle had proved itself to be a busy place, full of the comings and goings of the Kerr clansfolk as they went about their business. Until that day, all movement had been carefully monitored by uniformed guards.

Sunk in thought, Bane pulled out his sword and laid it across his knees. He reached into a pocket of his sheepskin jerkin and pulled out the small whetstone which he carried with him everywhere. As was his habit, he began meticulously honing his sword. A trained blacksmith by trade, what Bane did not know about forging a blade or keeping it sharp enough to slice off a man’s arm was not worth knowing. It was ingrained in him to keep his weapons sharp and ready for use. Especially now, because if he were caught by the castle guards trying to carry out the plan he had in mind, he knew he would need to vigorously defend himself… or die.

The whetstone moved rhythmically along the blade, providing a low, rasping counterpoint to the singing of the birds and many voices floating across the meadow from the castle environs. Noisy groups of people were spilling out of the gates into the surrounding area, some looking the worse for wear. Now and then, alerted by some sound or movement, he would raise his head and glance between the tree trunks over at them before looking away again, seeing nothing of interest.

While he worked, Bane thought over the last few days of his vigil, the information he had garnered, and how he could best put it to use. He had caught sight of Laird Ewan himself several times as he rode in or out of the mighty gates at the head of a party of his soldiers. The very sight of the man made Bane’s blood boil with anger, fuelling his resolution to enact his plan at the earliest opportunity.

However, there had been a problem preventing him from doing so.

The problem had been that until that afternoon, when he had managed to get inside the walls, he had not seen hide nor hair of the man’s daughter. And his plan depended upon knowing what Lady Agnes looked like, for she was an essential part of it. Without being able to recognize her, he would not be able to achieve his sworn purpose of retrieving his brother. The brother who even now, Blane was certain, must be languishing somewhere inside the castle walls, Laird Kerr’s prisoner.

He and his beloved elder brother Tav owned and ran a profitable smithy in a far distant town, living happily alongside their adoptive younger sister Fia. But a year ago, out of the blue, Tav had mysteriously vanished. While frantically searching for him, Bane had heard from witnesses that Tav had been abducted by a group of Laird Kerr’s soldiers, for what reason he could not guess.

Worried out of his mind about Tav’s fate, Bane had nevertheless tried to remain calm and comfort Fia in her distress, to be strong for her. But it had been hard. To be without Tav, to not know where he was, if he was safe, or even alive, was torture for them both. For Bane, it was like having a limb cut off.

Bane loved and respected his brother, had always looked up to him. With their parents having died of a sickness when Bane was but seven years old, Tav had been his world for many years, his mentor, his protector, his family. For a long time, it had been just the two of them. But things had changed when Tav had come across Fia, a young girl of fourteen, wandering alone in the streets, starving. In his typical kind fashion, he had brought the poor girl home. She had quickly become a part of their little family too, and both brothers were fiercely protective of her.

Try as he might, over the last twelve months, Bane had hardly able to focus on anything but his brother’s fate. He had been desperate to leave the smithy and search for Tav but instead had been forced to stay and look after Fia. He knew it was what Tav would have wanted. But a few weeks ago, thank the Lord, he had seen Fia wed to the man she loved, Laird Knox Stuart of Clan Stuart. Knowing Knox would take good care of her, he had finally felt able to close the smithy and leave town.

Now he here was, outside the Castle Ferniehurst, praying Tav was still alive. Bane’s sole preoccupation was rescuing him and taking him home. He had decided the best way to achieve it was to do a little abducting of his own. In fact, he planned to abduct Laird Kerr’s precious daughter Lady Agnes and use her to bargain with the laird in exchange for Tav.

He had been elated to have resolved the initial difficulty. But now there was another, perhaps more serious setback to his plan. Until it was resolved, he was stymied, yet the pressure was on to act. He knew that the longer he delayed his action, the higher the chances were of his being detected by the laird’s men. If that happened, he knew he would be lucky to leave the castle alive.

But if the laird had her guarded everywhere she went, how would he ever get the chance tae get a hold of her? The question nagged at him as he worked at sharpening his blade, his brow set in a frown of concentration. Thoughts of how to surmount the obstacle that had presented itself went around and around in his mind, to no avail. Eventually, tired from thinking, he dozed off, the whetstone falling from his hand into his lap as he slept.