Page 14 of McKenna’s Honor (The Clan MacDougall #4)
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W hile four outriders led the way down a narrow road that snaked around a very large hill, the wagon driver hugged the road to his left. At times, the wheels brushed against the jagged rocks of the hill. He decided it was better to battle against those rocks, than take the risk of falling off the cliff.
The rain had turned to a light mist some time ago, giving hope that the sun might someday shine again. It would take a fortnight of continuous sunlight to dry out the mud. The horses trudged through thick mud and deeply rutted roads making the journey north all the more perilous and difficult. The driver urged his team of four horses on with threats of turning them into stew if they did not get him safely down the road.
They were rounding another bend when one of the outriders called out for them to halt. The wagon driver brought his team to an abrupt halt, which jostled his passengers awake.
Something lay ahead, in the middle of the road, and blocked their passage. From where he sat, he could not see clearly what it was, only that the four outriders had surrounded it. Years of experience warned him something was amiss. He scanned the woods to his right, looking for any sign of trouble. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but he knew that did not necessarily mean all was well.
It took a few moments for him to realize that it was a child who sat huddled in the middle of the road. The driver could barely make out the child’s wailing as he watched the outriders quickly dismount.
“What goes on here?” one of the outriders asked the boy.
Between sobs, the lad cried out his answer. “Our wagon fell off the road!” he wailed as he pointed to the embankment. The remaining guards came to see what had caused the caravan to stop. “Me mum and da and baby sister are trapped!” the lad cried out. His dirty face was streaked with tears and his shoulders continued to shake.
The men quickly dismounted and without question, started to make their way down the steep drop-off to help the injured. It was, mayhap, not the wisest decision they could have made .
It had been three long years since their last good adventure. Maggy’s boys had grown much in that time. Besides gaining height, weight, and muscles, they had been fortunate enough to train with some of the best Highland warriors in all of Scotland.
Robert, the oldest, was nearly seven and ten now and taller than his adoptive father, Findley, by two inches. His younger brother Andrew was not nearly as tall, but at four and ten, he was developing muscle and speed. Collin was a year younger than Andrew. Where Andrew was stocky, Collin was tall and lean.
The twins, Liam and Ian, were growing up to be strapping young lads. Much to their mother’s dismay -- but to their adoptive father’s pride -- both had been blessed with a remarkable, natural skill with the sword. ’Twas a talent the lads of almost ten and one took great pleasure in displaying to anyone who would watch. While their mum would have preferred they took up less dangerous pursuits, she could not deny their talent.
The five boys were quite thankful that the Good Lord had blessed their mum with two daughters to fawn over. With Maggy’s attention focused on their sweet sisters, Deirdre and Elizabeth, the boys were able to avoid their mum’s ever-watchful eye and overprotective nature.
Therefore it had taken Robert completely by surprise when his mum came to him yesterday, with a plan that involved not only Robert and his brothers, but also several women and other children of their clan. Mayhap were he older and wiser he would have attempted to talk his mother out of the ludicrous idea. But he was itching for adventure and quite anxious to put to use the skills he had learned these past few years.
He had to admit that his mother’s plan was not completely ridiculous. And it was for a good cause he reckoned. If his father hadn’t instilled in the boys the importance of honor, of always doing the right thing -- even when no one was watching -- and to always help those who were less fortunate, they wouldn’t be here right now. Robert supposed his father would have no one to blame but himself. Besides, he was only doing what his mother told him to do -- again, as his father had taught him.
No matter how he tried to justify his actions this day, he knew deep down his father was going to be angry. And if they somehow managed to succeed with his mother’s plan he also knew Findley would not be able to deny that he was, in fact, quite proud.
Though Findley never raised a hand to the boys, there were far worse methods of punishment. Robert shuddered when he thought of how many months of cleaning latrines lay in his future. It would be worth it, he believed, if not for honor then for the chance to put his skills to good use
They had stayed up half the night going over the plan, again and again. Robert had it burned into his memory. He was glad that Findley had taught them how to think on their feet. For a brief moment as they waited beside the road, he wished his father was here to offer assistance. But he knew that if Findley had caught wind of their plan, they would not be here at this moment. Instead, he and his brothers would be back at home trying to keep Deirdre out of trouble.
Crouched low, hiding in the bushes, Robert wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt and unsheathed his sword. His brothers were well hidden just a few paces away. He could just make out Collin’s form and he knew Andrew was not far from Collin.
Please, God, let everything go accordin’ to plan, Robert thought quietly. And please, if ye could, let da no’ be too angry with what we are about to do.
Angus and Duncan had no way of knowing what was happening. Apparently, whatever was happening was happening ahead of them. Puzzled, they looked at one another, shrugged their shoulders and went to the side of the wagon to get a better look. They were too far away from the commotion to see anything, but they could hear. Someone was shouting, but it was too muffled to make out what was being said. A moment later, the guards who had been following behind them kicked their horses and headed past the wagon and toward the ruckus.
“What do ye suppose is happenin’?” Duncan asked.
Angus’ brow creased as he shook his head. “I dunnae,” he answered. “But I think those guards will be in a heap of trouble if anyone learns they left their posts.”
As they sat next to one another, straining their ears to listen, another commotion broke out. Suddenly, the wagon was being rocked back and forth, jostling the two men into one another. More shouting commenced as the wagon continued to rock back and forth.
“Do ye hear that, Angus?” Duncan asked.
“Aye, I hear it,” he answered in disbelief. Some of the shouts sounded quite feminine while others sounded like they belonged to children. “What the bloody hell?” he whispered under his breath.
Finally, the wagon stopped its rocking and the air around them became quiet. They still could not see what had happened and the mounted guards had yet to return. Time passed in relative confusion. Angus and Duncan continued to listen.
Then the wagon suddenly bolted forward, throwing Angus and Duncan into the gate. As the horses pulled them along, they passed by a most befuddling site. Lining the side of the road were the mounted guards, as naked as the day they were born, with hands and feet bound and pieces of cloth either tied around their mouths or stuffed into them .
Five women of varying ages stood behind them, with broadswords drawn, some with bows and arrows strapped to their backs, and wry smiles on their faces. The women waved -- one wiggled her fingers and winked -- looking proud as peahens as the wagon drove by. Neither Angus nor Duncan recognized any of the women.
“What the blazes?” Duncan muttered as he absentmindedly waved back at the women. “I be no’ sure, Angus, but I think we’re bein’ kidnapped.”
Not long after, three young lads and three women all on horseback fell in behind the wagon. Angus’ heart fell to his stomach. “Nay, no’ kidnapped,” he said with a shake of his head. “But someone does no’ want us to make it to Stirling.”
It hadn’t taken long or a huge leap in deduction for him to figure out who was behind their capture. In no time, they were going at breakneck speed around the bend and down the hill. With each twist and turn, Angus and Duncan were thrown into one another, jostled about like onions in a bowl.
They traveled for quite a distance before the madman driving the wagon, thankfully, slowed down to a less terrifying speed. The wagon veered left and soon they were crashing through thick, dense shrubbery, bushes, and brush. The wagon tipped and rocked, and once again, Angus and Duncan were thrown into each other.
He could take no more of it. Mustering all his strength, Angus rose to his knees and began pounding on the wall behind the driver.
“Bree McKenna!” he shouted as he pounded on the wall. Duncan was lying flat on his back, staring up at Angus. It took a few moments for awareness to settle in.
“Nay!” he shouted at Angus. “Ye do no’ believe,” his words were cut short when the wagon jerked hard to the left and Angus fell sideways on top of him. Duncan grunted and cursed as they scrambled to right themselves.
Angus took a deep breath and let loose with a litany of curses before drawing himself back up to his knees. Duncan joined him in the assault on the heavy wooden wall.
“Bree! I swear when I get me hands on ye!” Duncan bellowed.
“I do no’ care if ye be married and a mum, I swear I will show ye no mercy!” Angus yelled loudly. How on earth could me daughter be so daft! he wondered between shouting threats and pounding his fists on the wall.
Their threats fell on deaf ears. After some time, Angus gave up and slid down the wall to sit. If it was his daughter Bree driving the wagon, Angus knew she would not stop until they had reached their destination or when she was good and ready. He blamed Bree’s stubbornness on her mother.
Duncan finally gave up and sat down next to Angus. Frustrated, he thrust his legs out, crossed them at the ankles as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Does she no’ understand the trouble she will be in?”
Angus grunted and shook his head. “Nay, I do no’ believe she does.” He knew as well that she did not understand the importance of him and Duncan getting to Stirling.
Had they made it to Stirling in time, there was a good chance they could have avoided the hanging. But now? Who knew what Robert Stewart would think of Angus and Duncan’s obvious escape? Bree could not know it at the moment, but she may as well have put the nooses around their necks with her own hands.