Page 39 of Bride Takes a Laird
“It matters not now. We will adjust our plan and will confront him in the dark of night instead.” Magnus nudged his horse to canter ahead of the men. As they rode toward the village, he considered what he’ddo. It would be best to meet Aldo when he least expected it and he might as well disturb his trade whilst he was at it.
On the outskirts of Fassiefern, he stopped in a well-shielded area. The thick woodland was abutted with crags that would hide them until he was ready to make his presence known.
“Take rest and make camp.” Magnus settled his horse by running his hands over the muscular beast. Not only did it benefit his steed, but the motion also calmed him. He was deep in thought as he considered his plan when Osmond approached.
“Laird, what says ye? What is your plan? Will ye be telling us or will we just be left in the dark?” Osmond stood near him with a scowl on his face.
Magnus wasn’t about to allow his follower’s blatant provocation. He grabbed his burly soldier by the fabric of his tunic and held fast. “When I want ye to know my plan, I will tell ye.” He tossed him back. Osmond lost his footing and fell back on his arse.
His brother Jake offered a hand to the fallen soldier and gave him a reproachful look. Magnus growled low in his throat. Ordinarily, he would not accept a show of disrespect from any of his soldiers but Jake was his brother and he shook his head, keeping his rebuke silent.
All his men kept their distance after Osmond’s humiliation. Magnus paced between two trees and tried to settle his ire. While they waited, some rested, some sharpened their swords, and some ate. Without speaking to him, Hayden hesitantly approached and held out a large helping of bread and a flask of ale. Magnus took it and sat next to a tree. The rest of the day passed in agonized slowness. He was anxious to get going and when the sun set and the land dimmed, Magnus called his men to make ready.
“We will go to where they wager, a ramshackle of a barn at the far end of the village. Aldo is likely to be there this time of day in his den of debauchery.”
As he rode toward Fassiefern, Magnus blocked out his thoughtsand concentrated on the mission at hand.
The lane through the village was empty, save for a few people who walked along. When he reached the old barn, he slid from his horse’s back and marched to the old worn door. His men followed closely behind. To catch the men inside unawares, he yanked the door open and they rushed inside. Magnus shot his gaze from man to man until he found Aldo.
Aldo stood at the back end of the barn with a handful of players who knelt on the ground, peering at the dice someone had just thrown. The Cameron soldiers aided his progress and kept anyone from hampering his approach.
Magnus reached Aldo and pulled his sword free. He’d let his weapon do the talking for him. “Tell me about Ned Cameron. I want to know exactly how he came here and all that ye know.”
Aldo backed up with his hands held out and fear widening his eyes, retreating to stand near some wooden crates. “I…I do not know any such man.”
“Ye speak falsely. Your friend there”—he pointed at the man who he’d spoken to on his previous visit—“told me that my brother was here and that he lost a good deal of coin to ye. That ye were supposed to meet so that ye could collect your take. Now tell me what I want to know.”
Aldo pressed his beard with his hand. His black hair lay in straggled strands on his shoulders. His appearance was bedraggled and the stench from him gave a warning that the man hadn’t bathed for some time. “He came and wagered from time to time. Ned tried to recoup his losings…och, he only lost more.”
“Is that because ye tricked him, aye, cheating your way to winning a man’s coin?” Magnus grunted at his assertion.
“Nay, nay, I am not a cheater. I swear, by God, I do not commit such a sin. I run an honest business here. Your brother told me to meet him at The Tavern two days hence after he lost, and that he would payme. I trusted him but he never showed.”
“Who did he befriend here in Fassiefern? Was he comrades with the other wagering fools?” Magnus clipped his words and ire filled him because still, he was getting nowhere in his attempt to achieve his vengeance.
“Ned wasn’t comrades with any of these men but he oft sought the night with a woman of ill repute. I do not know her name but she’s one of Mary’s lassies. Mistress Mary allows men to visit her home to be with the lassies there.”
“Where can I find this Mary?”
“Her manor is to the east, located about two leagues or so from the village.” Aldo backed up another step. Magnus grabbed hold of him so that he couldn’t gain his release.
“If ye speak falsely, I will come for ye.”
The man was about to bawl. “I swear to ye, I speak the truth. Ned was my comrade and I wouldn’t have killed him over coins. I thought he was good for it.”
“How much did he lose to ye?”
Aldo wheezed and gasped when Magnus clutched him with more force. He tried to escape by forcing Magnus’s hands away but it was futile. “Three marks. He owed me three marks.”
“Damnation, Ned owed ye over four hundred pence and ye had no care? I disbelieve ye.”
Aldo gripped his wrists to get him to release him. “I did care, och what was I to do when I heard he was dead? There is no begetting repayment from a dead man.”
Magnus shoved him back, then grunted and sheathed his sword. “Do not leave Fassiefern. If ye do, my men will find ye and ye will end the same as Ned with a dagger to your heart.” He turned and marched out with his brethren following after they made threatening glares at the men inside the falling-down barn.
Outside, he whistled for his horse. Once he and his men wereready, they headed in the direction of the woman’s manor. Magnus hoped to get answers there. Perhaps the woman Ned met knew of what happened to him. At best, he might figure out why Ned was willing to lose such a good deal of their clan’s coin.
By the time they reached the distance they’d been told, a narrow lane afforded them a trail to a large manor home. The windows mostly were darkened except for a few on the lower floor. Smoke wafted from the chimney. The night air swathed the land with a frigidness and their breaths formed clouds of mist. Covered with thick woven tartans, he and his men paid little attention to the cold that settled around them.