Page 22 of The Bells of Triumph (Highlands’ Lost Valley #3)

21

THE PURSUIT AT SUNRISE

F inn felt uneasy, continuing to take up space in Murray Castle. Though he had made his amends to Brid, Flora, and even Seamus, he still felt under foot. They were still guarded and on edge around him. And while he did not blame them for it, he would rather not stay and continue to be an unwanted presence.

“Are ye sure ye have to go?” Brid asked.

Even as she was pleading with him to stay, she remained at Connor's side. Flora looked at him with the same imploring expression, though she had a bit more understanding.

“Aye,” he told her, speaking to the room.

Seamus and Liam were both there, too, enjoying their lunch.

“I dinnae understand why,” Brid whined. “We took Glenkirk and Murray Castle two weeks ago. There have been nay signs of Campbell. We should just move on, rather than keep making plans to find and attack him.”

Finn sighed through his nose and put down the maps he had been rolling to put in his bags.

“That is precisely why I must go,” he explained gently. “Campbell is plotting something, and we must be ready for it. Without someone there to protect it, Glenkirk is vulnerable to invasion. So I will go and see that it stays under our command. We dinnae want to give Campbell a foothold into the clan again.”

He knew it was an excuse to cover up his real reason for leaving, but the others seemed content not to question him on it. Brid was the only one reluctant to see him leave. He stepped towards her and grasped her shoulders with both hands.

“It is nae verra far from here. Ye are always welcome. I am sure Connor will have nay problem taking ye to see me, should ye fancy a day trip.”

Connor nodded in agreement to Finn's declaration when Brid looked his way for assurance.

“We will leave ye to finish yer preparations,” Flora announced, moving forward to usher Brid out of the room. “Some villagers have requested a few of yer tonics. We dinnae want to keep them waiting too long.”

One by one, they all filed out of the room, either with a pat on the back or a word of luck. The door closed behind them and Finn went back to packing up his things. He couldn't get out and back to Glenkirk fast enough.

“Take me with ye.”

The voice surprised him. But finding that it belonged to Iona surprised him even more.

“I thought ye had gone with the others,” he told her, avoiding her demand.

But she wasn't about to let it go.

“Take me with ye, back to Glenkirk Castle.” She paused. “Please.”

He couldn't help but sense that she was desperate to go, perhaps as desperate as he was to leave Murray Castle and all its ghosts. He didn't think she had any ghosts here, though, admittedly, he knew very little about her story. From the bits and pieces she had shared, he gathered that she hadn't spent much time away from the MacKenzie Keep. He thought that her father and grandfather had kept a tight grip on her, nearly forcing her into a marriage she didn't want, and that was the reason she had given for leaving them. But her plea to go back to Glenkirk had him thinking that there was more going on than she was saying.

“Why do ye need to go with me? I thought ye would want to stay here, with Seamus and Flora and all the others.”

She shook her head rather emphatically.

“I left some herbs,” she spit out, “at Glenkirk.”

“Some herbs? Can Brid nae find what ye need here?”

“She is so busy with the warriors that I dinnae want to bother her. I ken exactly where they are.”

Finn tucked another book into his bag as he thoughtfully considered Iona's excuse, for that was exactly what it sounded like; an excuse. Part of him hoped that it was an excuse to be near him, but as quickly as the thought surfaced, he dismissed it. Coy and flirtatious requests didn't carry such an air of frantic demand.

She must have seen that he was hesitant because she added, “I-I cannae sleep without them.”

Her admission caught Finn off guard. He never imagined that she would have the kind of monsters haunting her that he did, the kind that would keep her awake. But he understood more why she was so desperate to go get whatever it was she needed.

“We will nae stop until we reach the castle,” he warned.

“All right.”

“And we will be riding fast and hard. This will nae be an easy, enjoyable trip.”

“I expected that.”

He thought a minute longer as he tidied up the rest of his things. He wanted to leave within the hour, not have to wait for Iona to prepare for the journey. Letting out a sigh, he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I will nae be able to escort ye back here in a few days. I will be at the castle.”

“I have made arrangements to ride back with the patrol in two days time.”

“Ye seem to have everything thought through. If I did nae ken any better, I would think that ye already and yer bags packed and?—”

She held up her bag, the one she had been holding behind her back for their entire conversation. He chuckled and shook his head.

“All right. Ye can ride with me. We leave within the hour. Can ye make it to the stables and find a horse?”

He hardly managed to get the question out before she was racing out of the room to do just that.

As agreed, Iona met Finn out in the courtyard five minutes shy of an hour later. Her back was slung over the back of one of the mares from the stables, already saddled and ready. She was petting the beast's nose, whispering something soft and gentle. His horse was waiting for him with an empty saddle right next to her. Two or three others had decided to join them and ride back to Glenkirk, though the majority of Seamus' forces opted to stay put.

Having already said their goodbyes, Flora, Brid, and the others were nowhere to be found. He didn't mind. It was one less time he had to lie to his sister about why he needed to go. Even outside in the courtyard, he could still hear Campbell's laugh and the sickening crack of a whip.

“Are ye ready?” he called out to Iona, brushing off the haunting memories.

“Aye. Just waiting on ye.”

He nodded and walked over to her. Without warning, his hands went to her waist, and he lifted her into the saddle. As soon as she was settled enough that she wouldn't fall off, Finn let go and went to his own horse.

“I want to make it before the evening meal,” he called out to the group. “We will nae stop unless absolutely necessary. Keep an eye out.”

They rode hard and fast, leaving no room for conversation. Finn preferred it this way. Iona had an odd way of getting under his skin and turning his world upside down. And he was in no mood to talk, no mood to contemplate all the ways he could be better.

With his attention kept on the road ahead of them, the journey passed by fast enough. As he had planned, they made it back to Glenkirk Castle an hour before the evening meal.

There was no feast or fanfare to welcome them back, the way there had been at Murray Castle. The few men who had remained greeted him, but that was all.

Dismounting, Finn walked out the stiffness in his legs as he made his way over to Iona.

“Do ye ken where ye are going?” he asked a bit awkwardly.

He had to remind himself that she had spent several days inside the keep. She would surely know her way around.

“Aye,” she answered with a smile. “But I will let ye ken if I need any help.”

“Listen,” he called out, stopping her from turning and leaving the courtyard. “I was thinking about it, and I would be happy to escort ye back to Murray Castle. My men have been able to manage here without me this long. They will nae miss me for an afternoon while I take ye back to the others.”

“A-are ye sure?”

“Aye. I find I have missed riding for the sake of riding. The fresh air will do me good.”

“I guess that settles it, then.”

“Sleep here tonight, in whatever room ye are most comfortable. And sleep as long as ye need. I can imagine ye need it if ye have been without yer tonic for two weeks. When ye are ready tomorrow, I will bring ye back.”

“Thank ye, Finn.”

Iona stepped towards him and placed a hand on his arm, before she reached up on the tips of her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“I mean it.”

He nodded and watched her hurry into the castle and disappear inside it. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, looking after her, though she was long gone. His thoughts were so jumbled up by her that he had a tough time making out reality from imagination.

Finally giving up trying to figure her out, Finn shook his head and made his way inside, turning left instead of right. With his bag still on his shoulder, he opted for the War Room. Almost as soon as the door was closed behind him, he pulled out his maps and spread them out over the table.

“Where are ye hiding?” he asked, as if the parchments could tell him Campbell's location.

He spent several hours that way, hunched over the table. Anywhere he thought might hide an army of Campbell's size, he made note of, marking it on the map. By the time he stepped back to take in his work, the map was covered with two or three dozen marks.

“Anywhere,” he muttered. “He could be anywhere.”

It was an utterly defeated realization. The Highlands were a vast place with plenty of room to give Campbell refuge. Now, he must ask himself where could Campbell have gone without being seen by any of the Murray Clan. He had only just begun to narrow down the options when a knock came from the door.

“Sir?” a hesitant voice called.

“Aye,” Finn answered more gently than he had in weeks.

It was no wonder his men were hesitant with him. He had been quite the stern leader, too consumed with revenge to notice what those following him needed.

The door to the War Room opened, revealing a younger man behind it with a panic-stricken look on his face.

“Are ye here to tell me that Campbell is on our doorstep?” Finn asked in an attempt at humor.

“N-n-no, sir,” the guard forced out, shaking his head a bit wildly.

“Then it cannae be as bad as all that. What is the matter?”

“It is Lady Iona, sir.”

Finn stood from his seat almost immediately.

“What happened to her? What is wrong?”

“She took a horse from the stables. The stable master and groomsmen had already gone to be. She snuck in when nay one was looking and rode away. We tried to stop her, honest, we did. But she would nae stop for anything. She would nae listen to us.”

“Which way did she go?”

“Away from the village and into the forest.”

He could tell that the messenger was waiting for Finn's reaction, likely one of anger. But Finn only felt confused. She had lied to him, that much was clear. And the longer he thought about her odd request, the more foolish he felt for not having seen through it in the first place. He could understand all of that. What he couldn't make sense of was why Iona would ever want to leave Seamus' protection. Her arrival to Murray Castle all those months ago had been so unexpected and so troubling that Seamus had lost all sight of freeing the captured rebels. Over and over again, Finn had been told that the life Iona had escaped was not a good one, so why, then, was she running back to it?

“Is there anyone awake now to ready a horse?”

Finn plopped back down in his seat and started to pull on his discarded boots as he spoke. The calmness of his demeanor caught the rebel by surprise, but he tried his best not to let it show.

“Nay, sir.”

“Then I will need ye to go as quick as ye can and start to saddle my horse. I will be down shortly.” He waited for the man to leave, but when he didn't, Finn added, “Go!”

Scurrying around the room, Finn gathered his discarded jacket and satchel, shoving one arm through his coat and then slinging the bag on the same shoulder. He left the room still half ready, using the hallway to put on the other sleeve and button his jacket. It was cold and getting colder, even for a spring day, so Finn took the end of his tartan and wrapped it around his shoulders for extra warmth. He stopped for a second to finish tying up his boots and then stepped outside, the chill in the air stealing his breath.

As he had requested, the same man who had given him the message about Iona was saddling his horse. With only the straps left, Finn moved into the warm, hay lined stall and took over.

“Thank ye, lad. If I am nae back by the morning, tell the others where I have gone, but dinnae send word to Seamus just yet. We dinnae need to worry him before there is a reason to.”

“What will ye do?”

“I will find her and see that nay harm befalls her.”

Finn offered no other explanation as he climbed into the saddle and led his horse out of the stables.

With very little light to go on, Finn had to move slowly. He had only the words of the messenger to guide his direction. Iona wasn't too familiar with the area, so he took a chance by guessing that she would stick to the main roads as far as she was able, rather than venture into the forest to try to stay hidden. It was a blessing and a curse all in one. To know her general direction and the path she was most likely to follow, he knew he could ride after her with a fair amount of confidence. But the main roads were covered in tracks. There were too many to distinguish which ones were hers and which were not.

It didn't matter. Finn would search for her all night and all day if he needed to. He was the one who had agreed to take her to Glenkirk, he had agreed to look out for her, to protect her. And after all the grace she had shown him, the ways she had protected him from himself, it was the least of what he owed her. So he rode.

He didn't find her tracks until just after the first light of day. From what he could tell, she was headed to the MacKenzie border, as he had suspected. Though, she wasn't riding as fast as he would have thought. He knew that he would be able to catch up to her sooner than he thought, so long as he stayed on her trail and picked up his pace.

It took him hours to find her. In fact, it was nearly midday by the time he discovered her riding along the side of a stream. Her long, brown hair tied in a haphazard braid blew behind her, giving her away. The sound of the water covered his approach, angering him that she could be so careless as to put herself in such danger. She wasn't even trying to be aware of the things happening around her.

Finn made a wide circle, staying out of sight until he managed to cut in front of her. Positioning himself and his horse so that she couldn't get away, he trotted towards her and forced her to stop.

“What do ye think ye are doing?” he nearly shouted.

His anger and tiredness mixed into a bad combination, making the question come out sharper than he intended. She jumped in her saddle and put a hand to her chest.

“Finn,” she greeted breathlessly, “how did ye find me?”

“I followed yer tracks and then snuck up on it. It was nae too terribly difficult, seeing as ye made no effort to hide yerself. Anyone could have done it, really.”

Her eyes went wide at the point he was trying to make. Good. He wanted her to know just how reckless and foolish she had been.

“Now, answer my question; what are ye doing? Why have ye run away?”

“I dinnae have to answer to ye,” she told him with a defiant lift in her chin.

She tried to skirt around him, but Finn crowded her in before he reached forward and took the reins from her.

“Ye are nae getting out of this unless ye plan on climbing down and trying to run on yer own two feet. I dinnae see that working out well for ye, though. It would be better if ye would just tell me what ye are trying to accomplish by running away like a thief at night.”

Iona turned her head away from him, as far as she could manage while staying on her horse. He waited for a moment, feeling his irritation grow, and then snapped again.

“Was it truly so awful? Getting to go where ye please and do what ye want, was that truly something to run away from? Having Brid and Flora for friends, that must have been torture. Or maybe it was me,” he spit before he knew what he was saying. “Maybe ye've grown tired of me, even after begging me to take ye with me.”

Her ears burned bright red. He half expected for her to turn around with tears in her eyes. That is what Brid would have done, anyway. But when Iona looked at him, there was nothing but her own irate pride staring him down.

“I did nae realize that I was a prisoner. I did nae think ye or Seamus would ever take a woman captive.”

Her words found their mark. After all he had shared with her about his time as Campbell's captive, she knew how much he loathed being a prisoner. He certainly would never force such a state on someone like Iona. The accusation stung, just as she had intended it to.

“Ye are nae a prisoner,” he gritted out, “but ye are a liar. I doubt there was ever truly a sleeping potion to begin with. Ye merely used me to run away. I demand ye tell me why. I think I am owed that much.”

“Ye think I owe ye ?” she scoffed. “Ye forget that I belong to nay one here. I am free to do as I like without explaining myself to anyone.”

She folded her arms across her chest in a move that reminded him of the way Brid used to fold her arms. It was always her last attempt at holding it together before she crumbled. Finn knew that whenever Brid crossed her arms, she was about to tell him what was really going on. He was starting to suspect that Iona was no different.

“I thought we were friends,” he told her, letting his anger go. “I trusted ye, and I thought that ye kent ye could trust me.”

“We were never friends, Finn. Ye need nae feel responsible for me.”

He cocked his head to the side and studied her. The longer he looked, the more she started to fidget. And then he started to see that her anger, her pride, her defensiveness, was nothing more than sheer desperation rearing its ugly head.

“Ye were just some sad, lonely lad I took on as a project,” she flung, clearly scraping the bottom of the barrel, hoping that it would stick.

“Och, so ye lied to me about feeling trapped in yer old life, then? Everything ye told me about finding joy and trusting that life would repay my enemies, was that all a lie?”

There was no venom in his words. By the time he finished his last question, Iona's arms unfurled and swung to her sides in defeat. Her shoulders rounded forward, like she was trying to protect herself from something, or maybe she was letting go of something.

“I have to go back, Finn. I have to go back.”