Page 8 of The Bells of Triumph (Highlands’ Lost Valley #3)

7

UNDER THE MOON'S GAZE

“ I never kent that trees could be this thick,” Brid commented.

She stood in the middle of their makeshift campsite with her head tilted back, her eyes studying the trees overhead. The limbs were so close together and so dense with leaves that she couldn't tell if there was any light in the sky at all. She knew just from the hours they had spent riding that the sun had already set, but even the streaks of light from the moon were blocked by the trees. The world was drenched in shadows, setting her already frayed nerves on edge.

“Aye,” Connor answered, finding his spot by her side, close enough that their knuckles brushed, sending sparks through both of them. “We are in the deepest part of the woods here. It makes for a decent hiding place from Campbell, though it leaves us to contend with another kind of beast.”

Her eyes went wide at his insinuation, and suddenly, her head wasn't tilted back anymore. She scanned the trees, trying to differentiate between all the shades of brown that surrounded the oak trunks. For a moment, she thought it might have been nice to be tucked away from the rest of the world, here with Connor. And his closeness seemed to say the same thing. But the threat of the creatures that made a home in these trees, or the men who lived on the other side of them, had her thinking twice about it.

“Dinnae fash,” Connor whispered in her ear, “I will keep ye safe from man or beast.”

There was nothing she could do to stop the blush that spread from her cheeks down to her toes. It didn't help that Connor hardly gave her a chance to react before he sauntered off to talk with the others. Shaking herself out of her stupor, she trailed behind him, wondering if there was a way for Connor to protect her from him.

“All right, lads, I ken that it has been a long day of riding, but our job is nae finished yet. All that separates us from Campbell are these woods, so we will need to keep an eye out for guards. We cannae risk a fire this close to Murray Village, so do what ye must to stay warm. We will take the night watch in shifts. I will take first watch so the rest of ye can get some sleep in.”

Brid stood silently behind Connor and waited for the rest of the men to make their way to the campsite. It was the first time she would sleep on a bedroll rather than an actual bed, and she was in no hurry to have that experience. This was also the first time since they had left Finn and Drummond castle that she had any time alone with Connor. She had been too nervous to talk with Connor much on their journey to Aberfeldy Village. This wasn't an opportunity she wanted to squander again.

“I will keep ye company,” she told him softly, “at least for a while.”

Connor glanced over his shoulder as if he had always been aware of her presence there, and gestured with his head to a spot under one of the oak trees.

“Are ye always this chivalrous? Ye must be careful, or the lasses will start to call ye a hero.”

He chuckled and gave her an endearing smile that made her second guess the wisdom of her teasing.

“Would that be a problem if they did?”

“Why here?” she asked, tucking her skirts beneath her as she sat, ignoring his question entirely.

He lowered himself too, the warmth from his body barely touching her, blocked by the distance between them.

“Campbell and Murray castle sit in front of us,” he explained, pointing a finger in their direction. “Which means Aberfeldy Village is at our back. The chances of an enemy coming to find us are mainly from Campbell, so we will keep him in front of us. But a good watchman is always looking at all sides of things.”

She nodded slowly, letting her eyes move across the expanse of the forest as she brought her legs up to her chest, seeking their heat. The threat of her chattering teeth kept her mouth clamped down. She didn't want to be seen as weak. She could manage a little bit of cold just as well as the rest of them. At least, that is what she told herself.

“Here,” he said simply.

In one swift motion, he slid to her side, removing all space between them. Her side pressed against his until she could nearly make out the contours of the muscles that encased his ribs. He didn't stop there, though, as he took the end of his tartan and wrapped it around both of their shoulders, leaving his arm draped across her with it. She couldn't stop the sigh that slipped past her lips. Whether it was from his warmth or his touch, she wasn't prepared to answer. Luckily, Connor acted as though he hadn't heard her at all.

For a long moment, they simply sat there together, little more than two people taking in all that the evening had to offer. Brid's thoughts raced in her mind as she tried to sort through the events of the day. Really, she was struggling to make sense of everything that had happened in the last few months. But she was too tired to talk about it or really even think about it. So she settled on a different line of questioning altogether.

“Ye grew up in the village we are going to.”

“Aye,” he answered, though it hadn't technically been a question.

“Tell me about it.”

Connor settled in a little deeper, making himself comfortable even as his eyes continued to scan the trees. He knew that she wasn't asking about the mission or what they were going to do once they got inside the village. She wasn't asking for the layout of things or what his plan would be. She was asking about his home, his childhood, his family. And strangely enough, he realized that he wanted to tell her all about it.

“I have spent my entire life in Murray Village. Of course, nay one calls it that anymore, as it irritates Campbell. Most refer to it simply as ‘the village’. It's a home for so many wonderful people. It was nae until I was sent on my first mission as a guard that I ever ventured beyond going to the castle.”

“What was it like, to grow up so near the castle?”

“Och, one would think that ye would lose respect for the castle, for the Laird and his family. But I have only grown fonder of them as the years have passed. With my father being one of Laird Murray's counselors, I was allowed in the castle whenever I pleased. Seamus and I used to cause such trouble with our schemes. My mother claimed that I was the source of all her headaches with the mud we tracked in and the banisters we slid down. But it was the perfect place for two wee lads to grow up. Of course, there were other children in the village around our age. We would run through the forest and chase each other all summer long. In the spring, the markets would open, and I could smell the fresh bread and flowers from my mother's kitchen table. It was heavenly.”

She sighed again, trying to imagine what life had been like.

“It sounds like a dream,” she told him wistfully.

“Aye. It was. I hope that at the end of all of this, it will be again. I love my home, and I intend to pour all of my effort into making sure that other people can love their homes again one day. When Campbell is gone and the clan is allowed to prosper again, I want to see children running through the village and merchants shouting their wares. Och, I would even go so far as to run through the trees once more if that meant the magic of Murray Village was back.”

“I lived there too, ya ken.” She leaned further into his side, needing his strength for the story she was about to tell. “My father was one of Laird Murray's guards. His station was inside the keep. I was too young to remember much about it. Campbell invaded when I was only four years old. Both of my parents were killed in the invasion.”

“That must have been so hard to lose them both when ye were still so young.”

She nodded slowly, her brow furrowing as she tried to conjure an image of her parents.

“I am ashamed to admit it, but I cannae remember what they looked like. I am sure Finn and I resemble them, but I dinnae ken the color of my mother's hair or if I have my father's eyes. Sometimes, I will catch a whiff of something that smells like him or someone will laugh the way my mother did. But that is all I have left of them, of the life we once shared in Murray Village.”

Connor squeezed her shoulder tight. She got the feeling that he was trying to squeeze all of her broken pieces back together again.

“Campbell destroyed more lives than I think even he realized the day he invaded. All the guards who fought back, who resisted even after Laird Murray gave the orders to retreat, those are the true heroes. Those are the men I look up to, the ones I wish to be like one day. Those men are the great heroes of our clan and deserve to be honored as such.”

“I only hope that nae all of yer heroes are dead.”

“Brid, ever the optimist,” he teased, nudging her with his shoulder.

She laughed at his dry tone, surprised that she was able to make such a sound in the midst of their bleak conversation. Connor was delighted to hear it, though, pleased that she felt comfortable enough with him to share all of her emotions—the good and the bad.

“I think all of Finn's heroes are gone,” she whispered after a moment. “I think Rolland's death has shaken him more than any of us want to admit. I never thought I would see him act this way; so unsettled, so suspicious about everything and everyone.”

“He cares, verra deeply. He's merely showing it in an unusual and somewhat difficult way.”

She scoffed at Connor's kind description of Finn's recent behavior.

“He has always been protective of the people he loves. I think it is a byproduct of losing our parents so young. He was old enough to remember them, to remember how they died. He has always done everything in his power to ensure that nay one close to him is hurt. His need to control is what pushed Flora away. But he couldn't protect Rolland, and he has to blame someone. I think he has chosen the entire world rather than the one person who is at the center of all of this.”

“Dinnae fash, Brid. I have seen grief do wild things to a good many men, who are nae as kind or loving as yer brother. He will come out of the fog one day and see the error of his judgment. His mind will clear and though he will never be the same as he once was, he will nae be so unrecognizable.”

Brid didn't know how to respond to him. She had never seen the aftermath of grief so up close and personal before. She guessed she would simply have to trust Connor's word that Finn would not stay this way forever.

She didn't say anything after that. She felt too raw, too open to find the right words that wouldn't reduce her to tears. After a while, the darkness settled in on her mind, while the warmth of Connor's closeness was lulling her to sleep. Without meaning to, her head slid to his shoulder, and she didn't have the energy to move it again. He didn't seem to mind too much, though, as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She drifted off to sleep with a smile dusting her lips.

“How did ye ken this road was even here? It does nae look as though anyone has been on it in the last decade.”

“I told ye,” Connor answered Brid with a smile, “I loved to explore these woods as a lad. There is nae an inch of them I have nae walked, or a tree I have nae seen. The main roads are easier to travel and closer to other villages, hence why nay one uses this one anymore. But it suits our purpose perfectly. We dinnae want to draw any attention to ourselves by riding into the village from the main road.”

“How much further?” she asked, finding herself nervously impatient for what the day might hold.

She still didn't feel comfortable with Connor being so close to Campbell and all of his loyal cronies. Death was the only acceptable punishment for betrayal, according to Campbell, and she knew that was one death she wouldn't be able to handle. Luckily, she had spent the morning convincing him not to go to the castle just yet.

“If the village and the castle are as connected as ye say,” she had all but pleaded, “then let's find someone in the village who is on our side. They can go to the castle to spread the word, while we stay out of sight. Even if Seamus says he understands the risks of war, he cannae afford to lose yer skill as a warrior so close to battle. Ye must stay safe so ye can fight when Campbell dares to show himself once more.”

Something she said must have gotten through to him, as that is what they were doing at the present moment. He led their group to the edge of the village on the side of things farthest from the castle. It still didn't feel safe to Brid, but she knew that was as good as she was going to get from Connor.

“This way,” he directed. “I ken some old friends who share our sympathies.”

They rode to the door of a tavern that had clearly seen better days, but was still teaming with customers, the majority of whom looked like weary travelers, making sure that their group of six fit right in.

“Six ales and bowls of the day's special,” Connor told the waitress, keeping his head down. “And tell Cookie he's got some old friends who've come to say hello.”

“Cookie?” Brid echoed.

“He's the cook here. His son was executed years ago for speaking out against ye-ken-who. And the benefit of being the tavern cook is that he hears everything. He will ken who is with us in this.”

“I thought we had seen the last of ye,” a gruff voice called just as Connor finished his explanation. “It is verra brave or verra foolish for ye to show yer face here.”

“Good to see ye, Cookie.” Connor stood to shake the older man's hand. “Allow me to introduce ye—these are Seamus' Rebels.”

“Rebels, aye?” Cookie raised an eyebrow at the group. “It is about time the lad did something about what is happening to his clan. And it is good to ken he has the right people on his side.”

“We were hoping that ye would ken of more of these ‘good people’ who can join us,” Brid explained.

“Are ye here to make trouble?”

Cookie crossed his arms over his swollen belly and big arms. Brid couldn't help but swallow after seeing the displeased expression on his face.

“We are here to try to lessen the blow as much as we can,” Connor answered quietly but just as sternly.

“Och, I was hoping for trouble. Things need to be shaken up around here.”

Brid let out the breath she had been holding as she returned the older man's toothy smile.

“Our forces will be marching here within the next few days. We hope to draw him out of the castle and into the field between here and there. But we want to give the village plenty of time to prepare. This war has already taken too many innocent lives. We dinnae want to add to the list if we can help it.”

“So,” Brid chimed in, adding to Connor's explanation, “we want to warn those who need warning and ask for help from those who are willing.”

“Aye, I ken a few names who would be willing to join ye. I think ye will be surprised to find it is more than ye imagine. Though, I am sure the mothers will be glad of the warning so they can ensure the bairns are safe.”

“Can ye point us in their direction?”

“Nay.”

Brid blinked as her mouth dropped open.

“Ye six get settled into rooms upstairs. I only have three to spare, but there is space enough for all of ye. I will get the word out and have those interested gathered here tonight for those who can be trusted. Dinnae fash, we will be ready when Seamus comes to reclaim his clan.”