Page 25 of The Bells of Triumph (Highlands’ Lost Valley #3)

24

DARKENING SKIES

“ S tay behind me,” Finn whispered, crouching behind a tree.

“What do ye see?” Iona whispered back, peering over his shoulder.

Together, they studied the forest, searching for any sign of the wounded animal. Or what they hoped was a wounded animal. Iona searched and scanned but found nothing. It was a surprise when Finn pointed to a group of trees sitting on the eastern side of the forest.

“There. A horse. That is probably what left us this trail.”

“The poor creature. We have to help him.”

“With as much blood as I see here, it will likely be a mercy to put the animal down. Do ye think ye can handle that, or would ye rather stay here?”

She hesitated for a moment, not sure how to answer.

“I will come with ye.”

He nodded, and they took off through the trees together. With their reins in hand, they walked carefully and slowly. Finn kept his eyes to the ground, following the trail of blood, while Iona kept her eyes on the trees, looking for anyone or anything that might be out there to harm them. It wasn't long before they could hear the snickers, and whinnies of the horse, but the closer they got, the more strange it seemed.

“Finn, that horse is bridled.”

“What?”

He looked up, trying to find what she was talking about. The sun peered through the thick blanket of leaves overhead at just the right angle, shining off the metal bit that was clamped inside the horse's mouth.

“And there is a saddle.”

Finn stopped moving and turned around to look at her.

“Iona, I want ye to go back to the river and wait for me there.”

“Are ye daft? I will nae do that. I will nae leave ye here.”

“Do ye nae see, the horse has a bridle and saddle. That means it has a rider somewhere. We cannae be sure who this rider is, and I dinnae want to see ye hurt.”

“And what if ye are the one to get hurt? I could be here to help ye but, instead, ye want me to wait by the water while ye die. What if whoever is out here comes after me before ye find them? Nay,” she said firmly. “I will nae leave yer side.”

Finn studied her closely for a moment before he sighed heavily. Reaching around to his back, he pulled out a long dagger and forced the hilt into her hand.

“Take this then. Ye must do exactly as I say. And dinnae leave my side. Dinnae wander unless I tell ye otherwise.”

She took the weapon, the metal heavy in her hand but nodded all the same. Satisfied, Finn turned back around before he silently signaled for her to follow him.

They moved as one through the remainder of the trees. She was careful with her step, avoiding the branches on the ground and the dried leaves left over from the winter. The wind blew mercilessly, rattling the trees above, making a loud noise. While the loose strands of her hair whipped around her face, she was grateful for the racket that covered their sounds as they inched closer.

Approaching from behind the horse, Finn kept one hand on his sword while the other brushed along the horse's side, keeping it from spooking and giving them away. Iona, likewise, kept her fingers wrapped tightly around her dagger while the other fisted the back of Finn's shirt. They crept forward with their heads on a swivel until Finn looked over at her and pointed to something just around the tree trunk to her left.

She could only make out a pair of booted feet that lay haphazardly in the grass. Judging from the odd angle they rested at and how eerily still they were, she doubted that whoever those feet belonged to wasn't going to cause them any trouble.

Finn took a big step forward, moving out of her grasp, and pointed his sword at whoever was lying on the ground. He said nothing, as he studied her face. He motioned for Iona to stay where she was, but curiosity got the better of her. Stepping out from around the large oak, Iona glanced to the ground.

“Lord have mercy,” she cried before she tossed her dagger to the ground and fell to her knees.

“Iona! Get away from her! We dinnae ken who this is.”

“Aye, I do,” Iona told him, stroking the face of her old ally. “Och, Caitria, what have ye gotten yerself into?”

Finn gasped behind her just as the woman started to stir.

“I need my bag from my saddle, Finn. Hurry, go and fetch it.”

He didn't move. When Iona peered back at him to see why he was hesitating, she saw the concern written all over his face.

“Finn! This is Seamus' mother. I have kent her all my life. She will nae hurt me. Nae to mention, she is in such a state that I doubt she could so much as lift that dagger. Fetch me my bags, please! I dinnae wish to be the one to tell Seamus that his mother bled out on the forest floor while we stood by and did nothing.”

Her words pushed Finn into action. He all but sprinted back to where they had left their horses tied to fetch her battle supplies. She sent a silent prayer of thanks that she had brought it with her. Without it, she doubted that Caitria would have survived the hour.

“Caitria,” Iona called out gently.

One hand smoothed her thick brown hair out of her face, while the other ran a hand over her body, checking for injuries.

“Aunt Caitria, can ye hear me?”

The woman moaned in pain, but her eyes fluttered open. Iona could see the same kindness, the same resolve, the same warmth there that had so often graced Seamus' face. He might have his father's red hair and blue eyes, but everything else looked like his mother. She had no doubt that was what made Finn gasp when he first laid eyes on her. The resemblance was uncanny.

“Nay!” the bleeding woman cried out. “I must get to Seamus. I must warn him!”

“Warn him about what?” Finn asked, having returned with Iona's medical supplies.

“She is nae making sense. I will need to stop the bleeding and give her something for the pain before we have any chance of understanding her,” Iona told him.

“What do ye need me to do?”

Together they worked to get Caitria to as good of a place as they could manage in the woods with limited supplies. Slowly, Caitria seemed to turn a corner. She guzzled down water and groaned in relief as the tonic Iona had fed her started to take effect. It felt like hours had passed before Caitria opened her eyes with any sort of presence behind them.

“Iona?” she questioned, bringing tears to the younger woman's eyes. “What happened? Where am I?”

“We were hoping ye could tell us that,” Finn answered, crouched beside her.

“Aunt Caitria,” Iona said gently, “ye are in Murray lands. We found ye here, bleeding and shouting about needing to warn Seamus. What is going on?”

As if the questions had sparked her memory, Caitria shot up and then moaned in pain, clutching her side.

“Dinnae move so quickly,” Iona admonished. “Ye are in need of stitches, but I cannae do them. Ye will have to be careful. Please, tell us what is going on.”

Caitria winced as she eased back down with Finn's help, but her eyes remained sharp.

“Campbell,” she forced out in a strained breath. “He invaded MacKenzie Keep. He killed Laird MacKenzie and my brother, nae wanting anyone alive who could claim a right to the clan.”

“Why would he do that?” Iona all but demanded.

The news of her father and grandfather's deaths flooded her with a mix of emotions that she didn't have time to sort through. News of Campbell's whereabouts and seeing Caitria to safety were both more important for now.

“He is planning on using the MacKenzie army to attack Seamus. He is out for revenge. I left as soon as I could. I had to get out. I had to warn Seamus.”

Iona looked at Finn, who wore the same shocked expression that she knew was on her face.

“We have to get back to Seamus,” Iona told Finn. “Nothing else matters. If Campbell is planning on attacking us, we must make sure that our borders are secure, that the soldiers are ready. We have to get to him now.”

“Leave me here,” Caitria wheezed. “I will only slow ye down. Leave me and give Seamus the news.”

“Nay,” Finn answered sternly. “There is nae a world that exists in which we will leave ye here. Ye will ride back with us.”

“She needs care, Finn. She cannae make the trip back to Murray Castle.”

Finn thought for a moment, looking between Caitria, Iona, and the trees.

“Drummond Castle. It is an hour's ride from here and is still under our control. We will go there first to find care for Caitria, and then I will continue on to Murray Castle. I will nae make it there until well after nightfall, so we must move as quickly as we can.”

“Finn, she cannae ride a horse,” Iona whispered.

Caitria's eyes had slid shut once more, though her body twitched with pain. Finn sighed, torn between taking care of the wounded woman and getting to Seamus as quickly as he could.

“Help me,” he asked.

Taking two of the largest fallen branches they could find, Finn and Iona constructed a makeshift gurney to pull behind them. Moving as carefully and as quickly as they could, they lifted Caitria onto the blanket that had been pulled taut between the logs. Iona worked to settle her under blankets while Finn strapped it all to the saddles of two horses. A few minutes more and they set off again, with the two horses pulling Caitria following the horse that carried Finn and Iona.

“Perhaps now is nae the right time to say it,” Finn murmured in Iona's ear as they rode toward Drummond Castle, “but at least now ye will nae have to marry anyone ye dinnae wish.”

His words echoed in her mind for the rest of the journey.

The castle was all but abandoned. No one came to greet them as they entered the castle courtyard. No one offered to see to the horses. And there wasn't anyone to answer the door when they knocked. Finn forced his way in, the sound of Caitria's pain echoing in the otherwise empty courtyard.

“Anyone here? We need some help!” he called out down the dark corridors. “Hello?”

His bellows echoed back to him, making him think there was no one there. He and Iona both knew that if Caitria didn't see a healer within the hour, she would die. They didn't have time to make it to another keep. Just as he was about to give up, footsteps sounded off the stone walls.

“Who goes there?” a voice asked from the shadows.

“I am Finn from the Lost Valley of Rebels. We need a healer, immediately.”

His words sparked a wave of candles to light the corridors, revealing a dozen servants who rushed over to help. They brushed past him and joined Iona in the courtyard, bringing her cold rags and tea and whatever else they needed. Two of the servants ran to the village to fetch the healer.

With every minute that passed, they got more care for Caitria, but Finn only felt more anxious. He needed to get to Seamus. There was no telling when Caitria had first left MacKenzie Castle, or when Campbell intended to attack. They needed all the time they could get to prepare for another battle. He doubted the next one would be as easy as the last one.

“Ye should go,” Caitria said, her voice stronger than it had been all day. “Ride to Seamus. I will be well looked after here.”

“We must get ye to the infirmary first and see what the healer says before we make any decisions,” Iona answered. “Finn, could ye give us a hand?”

The mismatched group of servants with Iona and Finn carried Caitria in the blanket down to the infirmary. It was more important to keep her steady than to move quickly. She had already lost so much blood that she couldn't afford to lose much more.

Just as they got her to the infirmary and settled into a bed, the healer arrived in a frenzy. He and Iona worked together to do all that they could for Caitria. Finn watched on, feeling helpless and stuck. The sun was getting lower in the sky. All he could think about was having to ride to Seamus to tell him that Campbell was going to attack and that his mother was dying. It wasn't a conversation he was eagerly awaiting to have, but it needed to happen as soon as he could manage it.

An hour or so later, the healer and Iona made their way over to where Finn had been standing against the far infirmary wall. Neither one of them looked hopeful about the situation, and Finn couldn't blame them.

“I cannae give any promises as to her chances,” the healer told them in a low, forlorn voice. “She is in verra grave condition. I will be surprised if she makes it through the night.”

“What do we do?” Iona asked Finn, just as torn as he was.

“The sooner Seamus kens about all of this, the better,” he answered.

“I will stay here with Caitria and ensure that she is taken care of. Ye ride to Seamus,” Iona insisted.

“There is only one problem with that,” Finn hesitated. “I dinnae ken that they will believe me. I have been so against them all this time. If I show up with ye still missing and spin some great tale about his mother being found in the wounds and Campbell planning an attack, I will be lucky if they dinnae throw me in a cell and tell everyone I have lost my mind.”

“I cannae go with ye,” Iona argued. “Someone must be here to see to Caitria.”

“I will nae leave her side,” the healer promised. “There has nae been much to do around here as of late. It will be nice to have something to do.”

Iona shook her head.

“Nae, she is my kin, and I cannae?—”

“Ye must go, Iona.”

The withered order came from Caitria. She had pushed herself up on her elbows and was looking at them, her face gaunt with pain.

“Seamus must be told about Campbell, and he must believe that it is the truth. Bring him here to me, so I can tell him myself if ye must. But ye must go together. He cannae doubt the truth of yer claims.”

“But, Aunt?—”

“I will hear nae more of this, Iona. Ye are to go to him. Dinnae deny me this.”

Iona sighed through her nose as she looked at Finn, hoping he would defend her stance. He only shrugged in agreement with Caitria.

“Fine. We will go. Tell the servants to get the horses ready while I gather my things again.”

Finn went to do just that when Caitria stopped them again.

“Tell me about him. Please.”

“Tell ye about whom?”

“My lad. Though, I suspect he is nae much of a lad anymore.”

Iona's heart broke for Caitria and the desperation that hung in her voice. Moving to her bedside, Iona helped Caitria lay back down. Finn moved closer too, but only by a few steps.

“Aye, Caitria. He is a great man, one ye can be proud of. Kind and gentle and strong.”

Iona squeezed her hand, wanting more than anything to offer Caitria some semblance of comfort.

“He has become the leader that the Murray Clan deserves.”

Finn's words were a shock to Iona, though she did her best not to let it show.

“He has the moral compass, the integrity that every man hopes to achieve. He has a wife who is good and strong, worthy of him. He does the right thing at every turn. And I have nay doubt that he will be the one to reorient this clan once again. He will be the one to lead us back into the light, into a time of peace and prosperity. He is everything a mother hopes her son to be.”

Caitria shed silent tears as Finn talked about Seamus. Iona's eyes threatened to do the same. She knew, likely better than anyone, what all these years apart from Seamus had done to Caitria. The picture of Seamus that Finn was painting eased some of the heartache for the mother.

“Thank ye,” Caitria whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Ye hang on,” Finn ordered, stepping closer to grasp her other hand. “Ye survive this and see him for yerself.”

She nodded and let her eyes drift shut into a fitful sleep. Iona bent to press a kiss to the woman's burning forehead in what she hoped wasn't her last goodbye. But they didn't have time for more.

All but running out of Drummond Castle, Iona, and Finn climbed back into their saddle, with Iona clutching Finn's waist.

“It will be faster if we ride together. Ye will nae have to think about driving the horse, only holding on to me,” Finn explained when there was only one stallion waiting for them. “Dinnae fash, I will get us there safely.”

Iona did as he said, gripping his shirt as tightly as her fingers could manage as they rode off in a fury towards Murray Castle.