Page 25 of Highlander Redeemed (Guardians of the Targe #3)
E ARLY THE NEXT morn, Duncan moved silently through the wood, fully armed and only a little concerned for the safety of his companion.
When he had roused Scotia well before dawn and told her the plan for the day, a combination scouting expedition and training day, she had glared at him at first, then leapt from her blankets without a word, and before he knew it she had led him up a deer trail he had never explored and out of the Glen of Caves, easily skirting the doubled guards around the passes.
As soon as they began to descend the ben, Scotia seemed to relax.
She had stopped just as the sun’s wan light turned the eastern sky shades of subtle pinks and purples, and bade him to lead the way as she did not ken where they were bound.
Ever since, she had followed behind him quietly, but he kept feeling as if she stared at his back.
Whenever he looked over his shoulder—to make sure she was still there, he told himself—she was simply trudging along, her eyes on her feet, or searching the forest around them.
Last night her eyes had been on him, as if she battled with her feelings for him, the feelings he knew she held but did not want.
But this morning she was more settled, and it seemed her battle had been won.
And yet he could swear she tried to stare a hole in his back, though he could not catch her at it.
He fought his own battle this day. When he had gone to wake her this morn, she had looked so peaceful, so sweet, it had taken all his resolve not to touch her, not to run his fingers over the smooth plane of her cheek, or to take her hand in his.
It had taken all of his resolve to keep himself from simply watching her sleep.
He had said her name quietly and her eyes had popped open immediately.
He was glad he had controlled his desires and not made a fool of himself.
Even now, as they neared the outer watches set around the castle, he struggled to keep his mind off Scotia and what she might be thinking and feeling.
He struggled to stay focused on what they were about.
The English lord would probably send advance parties ahead of the main force to scout out the land, the whereabouts of the MacAlpins, food sources, likely ambush locations, and anything else they could learn that might be of use to the lord when he arrived.
It would not do for Duncan and Scotia to stumble into one of those advance parties because he was preoccupied with the lass.
He held up his hand, his signal to halt, and looked about him. This would be as good a place as any to begin the day’s work.
“Hide yourself,” he said to Scotia. “You need to be close to where an enemy might pass—within striking distance, but not seen.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, shook her head a little, then set about gathering fallen branches, twigs, and a vine that grew up the side of an ancient tree.
In a shorter time than he expected, she had disappeared under a mat that looked like the rest of the forest floor.
To his surprise she had even thought to draw her sword and dagger before she had taken cover.
She would be ready for any enemy who passed by her.
“Stay there,” he said. “I will return shortly, and I expect you to hold your position until I do. Even if Lord Sherwood himself rides by you, do not engage. Do you understand?”
“You are quite clear, Duncan. Go now so that you might return sooner.” The edge of irritation in her muffled voice was familiar.
He faded back into the wood far enough that she would think him gone, then climbed a tree to keep watch, to make sure she did exactly as he bade her. If he did not ken where she crouched in her leafy hide, he did not think he would ever notice she was there.
When he was reasonably certain she really was heeding his order to stay hidden, he climbed down from his perch and made his way toward the castle.
When he was out of her earshot, he made the call of the tawny owl, and listened.
In the distance the call was repeated so he made his way in that direction, using the owl call twice more to find Brodie MacAlpin sitting high up in a tree, keeping watch over the castle and the surrounding land and loch.
Duncan made a hand signal that meant “What news?” and watched as Brodie made another, indicating there had been no sightings of their enemy.
Duncan nodded, waved good-bye, and decided to return to check on Scotia rather than move on to one of the other two men keeping watch today.
He trusted her to keep to her task, but still, she was Scotia and it was only prudent to check on her.
When he drew near, he climbed the tree once more, and had to search to make out her hide, right where it had been when he’d left her. As far as he could tell nothing had changed. Relief swept through him, loosening the muscles in his back that he had not realized were tense.
“You can come out now,” he said, as he neared her place.
“Of course,” she said from behind him.
He spun and found her standing within striking distance of him, a second hide scattered around her feet and a grin of triumph upon her heart-shaped face.
Anger and pride fought within him. She had not followed his order as a good warrior should, but she had hidden herself so well, even he had not discovered her true hiding place.
“You were not to move,” he finally said.
“But this was better, aye?”
Duncan fought the desire to return the grin that lit up her entire countenance. He fought the desire to sweep her up in his arms in celebration of her excellent ruse that would serve her well in battle, if not her fellow warriors.
He clenched his teeth and pressed his lips together until the urge to smile was under control.
“Nay,” he said. “Following orders is better.” He watched as the delight sparkling in her eyes dimmed.
“If you cannot do that simple thing, I can never recommend you to fight among the clan’s warriors.
In order to defend the clan together, you must be relied upon to follow the orders given you.
Everyone’s life will depend upon you doing what you have been told.
” He looked away to the west, hating that he could not tell her also how proud he was of her for thinking for herself, but as hard as this was, ’twas a necessary lesson.
“This was a test, Scotia, and you failed.”
S COTIA WATCHED AS Duncan strode away from her. Her mind was reeling at his harsh words. She had seen the surprise, and the instant of pleasure that had made Duncan’s dark eyes shine, but then it had been replaced with an awkward anger, or maybe just disappointment.
Failed? She had not failed! She had surprised him, Duncan, the best tracker in the clan.
She had hidden herself even better than he had asked her to, waiting patiently until she knew when he had climbed out of that tree and gone to find a watcher.
She had already noted where more branches, vines, and bracken lay nearby before she’d even completed the first hide, so it took only moments for her to construct the second one and take her place beneath it.
From that point on she had followed Duncan’s orders, awaiting his return while staying alert for any passing English.
Anticipation of his appreciation for her ingenuity had made it easy to crouch, weapons in hand, her attention and senses fixed on the area around her for a long time. She had known the moment he had climbed that damned tree again, and it was only then that she found it hard to await his return.
Now she wished he had never returned. Damned man.
“Where are we going?” Scotia hissed from behind him, still picking leaves from her hair.
Duncan sliced a hand through the air, his sign for silence, and kept going, irritating her beyond her ability to keep silent.
“Duncan!” She knew better than to yell at him, which is what she would have done even a fortnight ago, but she was determined to explain why she did not follow his instructions exactly but that she had followed what he had intended by them.
When he kept moving without even that stupid hand signal for silence, she said his name again. “Duncan!” This time she let her voice be a little louder. “I did nothing wrong.”
Still he ignored her, though his pace increased, making it harder for her to keep up with his long strides.
“What is wrong with you?!” she asked. “I did—”
“Haud yer wheesht!” he said over his shoulder, but he didn’t look at her.
Stupid, idiotic, bothersome, irritating, silent man.
Scotia let the litany of angry descriptions swirl in her head, over and over again, until she could barely contain her anger at his dismissal and withdrawal from her.
She had done almost exactly as he had required, so she would not endanger his agreement to train her.
That one small change had not put her in any more danger than she might already have been in, and it made her position even more secure.
Duncan should be proud of her for making his order even better.
“Duncan,” she tried again, “stop! You know as well as I that I did not fail to follow your orders.”
The only sign that he even heard her was that stupid hand signal once more.
Irritation turned to ire. She was not wrong. He was, but he would never admit that to her. He would never admit that she might have done something strategically better than what he had told her to do.