Page 71 of Bride takes a Scot
The day dragged by with excruciating slowness. Not one man spoke or made enough movement to alert anyone who traipsed through the woods. Declan grew tired of waiting. He wasn’t known for his patience, but to ferret out his enemy, he would wait until heaven met hell.
But then, noise came from afar. He held up his hand to alert the men and to signal to remain where they were.
Six riders on horses rode through the trees at a slow pace. They didn’t seem concerned for their safety and spoke to each other as they progressed. Declan continued to hold up his hand. They would pick the perfect moment to intercept them. When the progression of men reached the center of the MacKendrick and Campbell soldiers, Declan lowered his hand. At once his men revealed themselves from their hiding places.
The knaves tried to flee, but swords were drawn and pointed at the foes. They sat still on their horses that were apprehendedas some of his men took their reins. Several soldiers grabbed the riders from their horses and tossed them to the ground.
Declan made his way through the circle of men. “Who are ye? What clan do ye hail from?”
None of the men answered.
“They are Murray’s men,” one of the Campbells said. “I recognize them. They visited our keep only a fortnight ago, but Robbie would not give them entrance beyond our gates.”
“Murray. Is your laird here in the forest?” Declan couldn’t understand why Dermot’s men rode through his woods without their laird or why he’d visited the Campbell fief recently. His comrade had all but said that Robbie wouldn’t meet with him. But then a dawning struck Declan as he remembered what Dermot had told him.
“Robbie will not meet with you. I tried to persuade him, but the man was adamant and said that he would not meet with a murderer. Even though I swore that ye did not have anything to do with his father’s murder.”Yet none of what his supposed ally told him was true because Robbie told him to come. Why had Dermot told him that Robbie wouldn’t see him? Dermot lied about his trip to act as mediator. What else had he lied about? Had Dermot offered to be the go-between with Robbie to keep them apart? Why the subterfuge? What did his comrade hope to gain?
Micah, the Campbell commander-in-arms, nudged his way through the crowd. “Laird MacKendrick, I need to speak to ye.”
Declan moved aside so the men being held couldn’t hear them. “What goes, Micah?”
“They are the men that attacked us. I recognize the man with the torn tunic because I tried to apprehend him and the slippery skelp got away. They tried to murder my laird.”
He craned his neck to peer back at the men. “It doesn’t make sense, Micah. Why would Murray’s clansmen attack your clan or mine? He is a trusted ally.”
“He is no ally, Laird MacKendrick. That band of men attacked us, I am certain.”
Declan marched back to the men and stood before them. “Where is your laird?”
The men wouldn’t answer. Declan had had enough of their silence. His patience was gone, and he grabbed the nearest man and gripped him closely. “Tell me where your laird is, and I will let you live.”
The man refused to answer him. Declan tossed him behind him where his awaiting soldiers put the man out of his misery—the misery of awaiting his death. A brief scuffle ensued, and the man existed no longer. He grabbed the next man. “Where is your laird?”
Again, no answer. Declan repeated his motions until the second to the last man answered him.
“He told us to await him here in these woods. That he was going to the MacKendrick keep and would return before nightfall.”
Declan tossed the man behind him and moved out of the way of his soldiers. The six men were killed for their involvement in whatever scheme Dermot Murray had planned.
His heart began to pound as it occurred to Declan that Murray was at his keep. This whole thing had been a ruse, and a distraction. While he was down here, waiting to be ambushed, Dermot had probably snuck inside like the polecat he was. And that meant—Isabella was in danger.
“Let us make haste. I need to get back to the keep posthaste.” Declan ran to his horse, not caring if his men followed. He only had Isabella—and Noah, and Gran, and everyone—on his mind. But Isabella’s face was the one he held in his mind’s eye as herode like hell for the walls of his home. At the gate, he raised his hand and shouted, “Virtue alone ennobles.”
Behind him, he heard the echoing shouts of his men, and then the calls of those who remained within. As soon as he passed the threshold of the gate, he slid from his horse’s back, ready to sprint to his home to find his wife.
But then Anse trotted toward him, holding up his hand. “Laird, we had a wee bit of trouble. Och, not to worry, though. All is well now.”
His knees almost buckled. They—she—Isabella—was safe. “Dermot Murray?” he breathed in response.
“Aye, he is in the pit. Milady did him in. Well, och, nay. She rendered him incapacitated.”
Declan scowled at hearing Isabella was involved in apprehending their foe, but then again, knowing his impetuous, bonny, brave wife, he wasn’t surprised. “What happened? Tell me on the way to the keep.”
Anse sidled next to him and said, “The gate watch didn’t know Murray was…our foe. Because of that, Laird, they allowed him through the gate. Once he was through, he fought with the two guards stationed there. The guards called our call to arms and at once the entire keep was put on alert. Not before that damnable man made his way inside the keep. Slone heard the commotion, and he bade Milady to lock the keep doors. She did so, but Murray must have made it inside before she could secure the holding. She says he spoke about your mother and his father. While she kept him talking, she put him out with one of her tonics.”
Declan drew a sharp breath. “She could have been killed. Murray could have killed her.”
“Och, he did not. Nay, Laird, I do not think he intended to harm her. He was after ye, but your lass, she is clever. When she finally opened the door to the keep, he was passed out. She saidshe gave him the ‘devil’s eyes’, but unfortunately, not enough to kill him.”