Page 16 of The Forest Bride

“Since it happened on the east side of the loch, it is a Stirlingshire concern,” Constantine said. “Do you know of a skirmish, sir, or of a lady taken in that area?”

“Think carefully,” Duncan warned.

“Oh, that one!” Menteith waved a hand. “Not a lady. A child. You confused me.”

“What do you know of it?” Constantine asked.

“My men witnessed a theft along the road. Brigands. They interfered to rescue a young girl and her escort. They took the ruffians down and escorted the girl and the others to her kinsmen. It is done. It has naught to do with me.”

“Who are her kin?”

“MacDougalls. She was fortunate my men intercepted those brigands.”

Duncan masked his reaction. His father had died at the hands of MacDougalls years ago. The name would always rankle, but just now, it puzzled him.

“A minor incident,” Menteith said with a shrug.

“Not if men were killed,” Duncan snapped.

“Brigands died. I am not responsible for those deaths.”

“Nor responsible in any matter today, it seems. Who was the girl?” Duncan asked.

Menteith shrugged. “Daughter of a Highland laird. She needed assistance. A good deed done is no matter for a justiciary. We are finished here.”

“I will decide that. Sir Constantine will need to take accounts from your men. You may be questioned too.”

“But I am leaving today,” Menteith said.

“Going where?” Constantine asked. “If you will be at Loch Roskie instead of Dunbarton, we will find you there.”

“I have properties in the north. Other responsibilities. You understand.”

“Of course.” Duncan studied the page in his hand. “Well. The other party in the dispute of missing livestock and an injury has not shown up today.”

“Nor will they, coward MacRuaris,” Menteith said.

Duncan ignored that. “Then you are done for now. But stay nearby and remain on your lands until Sir Constantine can determine more about the matter along the Druimin road.”

“I told you I cannot stay.”

Constantine tapped another parchment. “Sir John, I have a statement from one of the men who removed the dead from that place. He says the deceased were knights, not brigands. Two wore laurels on their badges. The Keith insignia.”

Duncan froze, his hands stilled. Keith! He had not seen the page Murray held. His thoughts went to the Keiths of Kincraig, but there were other Keiths, fine men all, though none resided in this region. Why would they travel through Stirlingshire to escort a young girl to meet MacDougalls? Now Menteith’s claim made little sense.

“Likely the thugs stole gear belonging to others,” Menteith insisted.

“Best pray so,” Constantine said. “Trouble will surely stir if Keith men were killed on a Stirlingshire road and a girl taken.”

Reminded of the girl who resembled Margaret Keith, Duncan glanced toward the crowd. She was gone.

“That girl was delivered to her kin, I tell you.” Menteith was turning redder.

“The highest-ranking Keith is Marischal of Scotland,” Duncan said. “He will want to know if Keiths were involved—and slain.”

“All a misunderstanding. I am expected in the market square now to judge pigs and pies. And you, neighbor?” Menteith turned to Duncan. “You should join the archery contest. Years back, you were a fine shot. There is a handsome prize.”

“I will consider it,” Duncan said, frowning at the man’s sudden casualness.