Page 15 of Bride takes a Scot (Highland Vows & Vengeance #1)
D eclan rode through the gate with only two soldiers, Anse and Trevor, on his quest to meet with Robbie Campbell. He didn’t want to present a formidable stance when he met with Robbie and hoped that taking only a few men with him would show his unwillingness to instigate the Campbells. The day dawned hot and steamy, much warmer than usual. On the way, they had to stop twice to water the horses and themselves. By the time they reached Campbell land, they were drenched, and their horses labored.
At the Campbell’s gate, Declan jumped from his mount and approached to call up to the watchman. “I have come to speak with Robbie Campbell. Tell him I need to talk with him and that it is important.”
“If he was not expecting you, I cannot allow you inside.”
Declan waved his hand and said, “As ye can see, I come not with an army, only myself and a few followers. I only want to speak to Robbie and I am not leaving until he agrees to see me.”
“Wait here and I will see if he wishes to meet with ye. I’ll return shortly,” the guard said and disappeared.
While he waited for the guard’s return, he didn’t speak to Anse or Trevor. It was best to keep quiet because the other watchmen stared at them. He found it almost comical that they considered their stares and mien threatening. Declan didn’t fear them or being close to Campbell’s soldiers. It was one thing to take a man down when warring, but quite another to do so without coercion. And that was true because their swords remained in their scabbards, and they showed no animosity.
The guardsman he’d spoken with returned a short time later. He opened the gate slightly and peered at him. “Laird MacKendrick, my laird said to tell ye that he cannot meet with ye presently. He gave me this missive to give to ye and said for ye to return in a fortnight.” The guard stuck the sealed parchment through the unlatched gate.
Declan took the missive and returned to his horse. They left hastily and didn’t speak until they were far enough away from Campbell’s holding.
Anse was the first to speak, “What does his message say?”
“I will read it when we make camp.”
The sun was nearly setting by the time they reached the dense woods at the edge of Campbell land. There, they found a clearing and set up a small camp. Trevor started a fire and Anse pulled out a helping of foodstuff from his saddlebag. After the horses were settled, they sat around the fire even though it was warm enough to forgo it. Declan removed the parchment from inside his tunic and cracked the wax seal on the parchment. He leaned toward the fire to gain enough light to read the words.
Declan, I know why ye wish to see me. I am unavoidably unavailable at present due to a family matter. Come in a fortnight and we will discuss this disparaging dilemma. With your aid, we will find my father’s murderer for I know ye were not responsible. ~RC
He gripped the parchment so tightly, he had to take a breath to ease himself. Though Declan was pleased by his brother-in-law’s invitation, he was unsettled because he’d hoped Robbie might give him news of who the culprit might be. “Robbie does not believe I murdered his father.”
Anse grunted. “That is good news, aye.”
“He wants my help to find the culprit.”
“Aye, we should help him. Robbie was your wife’s brother, and we are speaking of seeking justice for your former father-in-law. I have been thinking about this and I deem the murderer wanted you to take the blame and probably spread the tale. Let us discuss what this foe would gain if ye were put to death for murdering Allan Campbell because apparently that was his intent.” Anse took a cup of ale offered to him by Trevor.
Declan appreciated his cousin’s skill at comprehending the politics between the clans. Like his father, Declan’s uncle, Anse had the natural ability of diplomacy. His cousin was perhaps the wisest man he knew and he relied on his knowledge and advice. “Who would gain if I am dead? There is ye.” He meant to lighten the mood with a jest and hoped his cousin took it as such.
Anse chuckled and scoffed. “Cosh, there is no way in hell I want to be laird. I am satisfied with my lot in life, a lowly commander. I am content, Declan, and do not seek to overthrow ye.”
He thought that to be true. Anse had never aspired to want to take the reins and always boasted that he had more free time to enjoy his pursuits, whatever they were. “And I am gladdened to hear that, Anse, but ye are not a lowly commander. We are fortunate to have ye in our clan. Then who else might want to be laird?”
“There is your stepbrother, Silas. He is vindictive enough to go after the lairdship,” Trevor said. “I see the way he tries to insert himself with the soldiers.”
Declan mulled over Trevor’s words. “Aye, that is true. He deems he is better than all the soldiers. But is he intelligent enough to pull off such a ruse? I cannot see him being so crafty.”
Trevor scoffed. “Nay, I do not think he is capable of forming such a dubious plan either. He is always speaking but it is from his arse.”
Anse bellowed at Trevor’s speculation.
“I cannot discount him though. If Silas is my enemy, I vow I will slay him where he stands,” Declan said.
Anse shook his head. “What ye need to do is set a trap for him. Trevor, when we return, ye can keep an eye on Silas. Follow him and report back to either me or Declan. If we find proof of his deceit, ye can confront him, Laird.”
Declan nodded in agreement. “That is a sound plan, Anse. But let’s consider. What if my enemy is not Silas? Who else would gain?”
“Any member of our clan,” Trevor said.
Anse rubbed his chin and said, “Nay, none of our brethren would go against Declan. Our family has ruled our clan for generations. They all respect you too much to try to usurp ye. I cannot see any of our men taking such a stance to gain the lairdship, because even if they did attain it, they would lose the following of many, if not all, of our clansmen.”
“Whoever it is, is a treasonous knave, and I like not this turmoil.” Declan finished his drink and tossed his cup on the ground in front of him.
“Ye best watch your back, Laird, because so far, they have been unable to take from ye what they want. They will become even more diligent in trying to kill ye,” Trevor said.
Declan grunted. “They can certainly try, och I will be more watchful.”
Anse grimaced. “I will mingle with our clansmen more oft when we return and listen to their conversations. This kind of plan, to overtake the lairdship, is hard to keep secret. Someone will make a mistake and speak of it, and then we’ll have our foe.”
Declan wasn’t sure about that, but he was just as concerned as Anse and Trevor. He would return to the Campbell’s keep and speak to Robbie in two weeks. Perhaps he had a suspicion of who their traitor was. Declan felt the heat of vengeance running through his body.
*
In the morning, they set out and rode toward home. By mid-morning, they’d reached the pass that abutted their land. The forest thickened and beneath the leaves and branches, the woods darkened. Anse stopped his horse and motioned to him. He and Trevor stopped immediately and searched Anse’s expression for a sign of why they had halted.
“Someone is near,” Anse whispered.
Anse always had good hearing. Declan hadn’t heard anyone riding nearby. His cousin twitched his fingers and indicated both he and Trevor should ride about to find out who trailed them. Declan rode toward the left and Trevor to the right. Anse took the trail back the way they had come. The forest seemed to be still and quiet. No animals or birds scurried or fluttered.
Declan kept his horse silent and at a slow pace as he rode through the dense woodland. He rounded a tree and suddenly, something hit him from the side, hard enough to knock him off his horse. He landed on the rough terrain and his head slammed onto the leaves and loam of the forest floor. When Declan realized that some thing was actually a some one , he flailed his arms and legs to protect himself from the attacker while avoiding being trampled by his frightened horse. He swung his fisted hand at the foe until he got to his knees and was able to pull his sword from his scabbard.
Shouts came from the woods. Trevor made their war cry. Declan tried to see who it was that ambushed him, but his sight was blurred. All he could make out was the outline of a hooded figure, which stood over him with a dagger gripped in a pale hand, ready to thrust. Too near the ground to use his sword, and in a thwarting position, Declan reached to try and stop the assailant from pushing the blade into his body when he heard Anse shout. Hoofbeats thudded, shaking the ground. Declan wasn’t sure whoever approached was friend or foe; he curled into a ball and prayed he wasn’t about to be run over by a warhorse, here in the woods. Through slitted eyes he saw his attacker hasten away before the horse reached them.
The hoofbeats stopped and there was a thud as Anse jumped from his mount into view. He knelt next to him. “Are ye struck? Did he harm ye?”
Declan shook his head. “Nay, he did not get a chance and fled thanks to ye.”
His cousin held down a hand and helped him to rise. “Let us find Trevor and make haste.”
They searched for the MacKendrick soldier for a short time before they found him. Trevor sat on the ground, leaning against a tree. He huffed as if in pain and held his stomach.
Declan hurried toward him, knelt, and pulled back his tartan to see if he was injured. Blood soaked Trevor’s tunic and he lifted it enough to see the damage. The soldier had a gash on the left side of his abdomen. He winced when Declan tried to assess if the wound was deep or fatal.
“We need to get him aid,” Anse said as he paced near them.
“Did ye see who attacked ye?” Declan asked Trevor. “Was there more than one man?”
Trevor moaned and shook his head. “Did…not see…more than…one.” He closed his eyes.
“Trevor,” Declan called to him, “Keep your eyes open.”
Anse lifted the wounded man and helped him walk toward the waiting horses. “The ride home is too afar. He will succumb if we do not get him aid. Let us stop and have Lillith patch him up?”
They rode out as if the devil himself were after them. Declan worried for Trevor. His wound appeared grave, and he didn’t want his soldier to die. Within a league of riding, they approached Lillith’s cottage that sat by a copse of trees, at the far-stretched border of their land. Before they reached the worn plot of land before the entrance, Lillith stepped through the doorway.
“Good day, Laird. I was not expecting you.” Then she appeared to notice the steely regard on their faces and the slumped over man riding in front of Anse. “Oh, ye are not here for a social visit. Come, get him inside.” She turned and entered her cottage.
Declan took Trevor from his cousin’s horse and once Anse dismounted they worked together to carry him inside. The cottage was dark and there were all sorts of scents from various drying plants that hung from rope and on the walls. On a long table, many jars of medicinals lined in rows, along with pestles and the tools of Lillith’s trade. She was a renowned healer and many, even those from other clans, sought her aid when needed.
“Lay him there,” she said and pointed to a small wooden cot by the long table.
They gently lowered Trevor onto the cot. “He was struck with a dagger. The wound looks grave. I am unsure if ye can save him.”
“We shall see.” Lillith began removing Trevor’s garments with shears and grimaced. Blood covered most of his torso and soaked his garments. “It will be close, Laird. I’ll see what I can do to help him, but I am not making any promises. Await outside for I need to focus. I cannot have ye both peering over my shoulder. If I need ye, I will call.”
Declan tensed at her words. Apprehensively, he stepped outside and Anse followed him. If his soldier didn’t survive, Declan would be devastated. Trevor was not only a good soldier, but a close trusted comrade. They had been raised together, trained, and caroused throughout their lives. Declan wouldn’t put a voice to his thoughts. Instead, he prayed, and began to pace.