Page 49 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

CHAPTER THREE

“ D ae ye ken who that is, ye fools? Dae ye ken what this means? Laird Sutherland will have all yer heads!”

The soldier’s words pierced through the chaos of the battle’s aftermath like a blade. Malcolm paused and turned to look at the woman—the daughter of his greatest enemy, the daughter of the man who had been trying for years to undermine him and bring an end to his rule.

What kind o ’ twisted plan has he hatched? Why send his daughter tae me?

Surely, this was some kind of trap. He gazed at the girl, this maiden that—under all the dirt and grime—seemed like the perfect temptation for a man, with her long, auburn locks and delicate, rosy lips, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Ailis Sutherland,” he said, her name an unwelcome weight on his tongue. “What is the daughter o’ me enemy daein’ in me clan’s parts?”

To her credit, the lass stood tall as she faced him, and though Malcolm could see the fear in her gaze as their eyes met, when she spoke, her voice was steady and firm.

“Laird Caithness… I’m seekin’ asylum,” she said, much to Malcolm’s surprise. “These men… they’re nae here tae save me, they’re here tae drag me back tae me faither, an’ I refuse tae return tae that monster. I’ve been tryin’ tae reach yer lands so I can escape him.”

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed into slits as he regarded Ailis.

There was nothing that hinted towards deception in her voice, but that didn’t mean that she was being honest with him.

The few of her father’s men who were still standing, wounded or having given up on the fight, now seemed to have lost any desire to speak, and for a moment, Malcolm watched as his own men gathered them and bound their wrists to take them as prisoners.

But what about the lass?

It was a ploy; it had to be. There was no other explanation why Ailis Sutherland was there, but Malcolm wouldn’t fall for such blatant lies.

If his daughter was part of the plan, as he suspected, then Malcolm had two options; either send her back and show Laird Sutherland he could not be so easily deceived or keep her close and use her in any way he could in this war against the man.

“If yer faither thinks me such a fool that I would fall fer his trap, then he’s worse than I even thought,” said Malcolm and much to his surprise, Ailis didn’t even flinch at the insult.

“An’ ye, if ye think me a fool, ye’re sorely mistaken.

Ye’ll return tae yer lands immediately. Ye found yer way here, ye can find yer way back. ”

It was the cleanest, easiest way. Sending her back was safer than keeping her in his home, where she could wreak havoc. He didn’t want her anywhere near his people, his soldiers.

Just as he turned to walk away, though, a hand grabbed his sleeve, bringing him to a sudden halt. It was Ailis, and Malcolm frowned as he turned to face her once more, surprised by the brazen move.

“Awfully familiar o’ ye,” he pointed out.

But the despair in the girl’s eyes was unlike anything he had ever seen.

“I didnae suffer two days an’ nights in the wilderness tae be turned away by ye… me laird,” the girl said, his title added as a second thought. “I have come this far an’ I refuse tae turn back. Ye may turn me away, ye may nae allow me intae yer lands, but I willnae return home.”

Ailis spoke with such determination, such fire in her gaze that Malcolm was taken aback for a moment, observing her in silence.

He noted the proud tilt of her head, the stubborn line of her lips, the way she stared at him fearlessly.

There was a tremble to her hand, which she attempted to hide by clenching her fist, but which Malcolm noticed regardless, but other than that, she painted a picture of perfect composure.

Why daes she nae want tae be home?

“I willnae go back tae me faither,” Ailis continued before Malcolm even had the chance to ask her.

“I have suffered enough at his hands. If ye dinnae want me in the castle, then I will happily move on. I will learn an’ find work an’ I will help any way I can.

If ye dinnae want me in yer lands, then I beg ye, grant me passage, but I shall nae go back. ”

“How dae I ken ye’re sayin’ the truth, Miss Sutherland?” Malcolm asked her, raising a curious eyebrow. “How dae I ken this isnae a ploy fer ye tae infiltrate me clan? Surely, if ye made it all the way here on yer own, it means that ye’re highly capable. So tell me, why should I trust ye?”

For a moment, Ailis hesitated, clearly at a loss of what to say. But then, that stubborn set of her mouth returned as she stood tall, her hands resting on her hips.

“Because ye ken better than anyone else here how cruel me faither can be,” she said, much to Malcolm’s surprise. “An’ I can assure ye, I have suffered in his hands more than ye ever could. He is a monster. An’ nay one despises him more than me.”

Ailis’ words dripped with venom as she spoke of her father. There was nothing in her tone, nothing in her gaze, that betrayed deception. There was nothing but a deep hatred, so palpable that Malcolm could almost feel it like a chill on his skin.

What should I dae with her? I should send her back, but she willnae go.

“I dinnae care what ye dae,” Malcolm said in the end. “All I care is that ye’re nae in me lands. Ye’re tae leave right now.”

Ailis didn’t seem at all fazed by this. “Very well. But if that is the case, then I demand tae be escorted by two o’ yer men who can ensure me safety as I leave yer lands.”

Malcolm’s first instinct was to laugh, the sound rough and surprised—more like a howl than anything humorous. “Surely, ye jest, Miss Sutherland. What makes ye entitled tae such a thing?”

“The fact that if ye dinnae, somethin’ could very well happen tae me in yer lands,” Ailis pointed out. “I could be attacked by yer own men. I could be attacked by brigands. Anythin’ could happen tae me an’ if I am found dead, who dae ye think me faither will blame?”

That gave Malcolm pause and his gaze hardened as he stared at her.

It was awfully bold of her to threaten him like that, and though his rage threatened to bubble over in response, he also couldn’t help but be impressed.

She had thought of everything, it seemed—and she had no qualms doing what she felt necessary.

“Like I said, ye made it so far on yer own,” Malcolm reminded her. “It seems ye can take care o’ yerself.”

Ailis’ gaze fell down on her body—the torn and soiled dress she was wearing, her reddened arms, the skin scratched and bruised. “Daes it look like I’m daein’ well?”

I suppose she has a point.

A million different things could happen to Ailis if she roamed around Caithness lands all on her own.

Even if no one recognized her, even if Malcolm himself gave his men the order not to harm her, there was no telling what brigands would do to her.

It was true; she would be at great risk and she could end up dead without an escort.

He could only imagine the havoc the girl’s death in his lands would cause. Whether she had been sent there as a spy or not, her death would be disastrous for Clan Caithness, and Malcolm was not willing to risk it.

Besides, spy or nae, it daesnae seem right tae leave her here all alone.

If she wasn’t captured by brigands, then she might starve to death or meet her end in a hundred different, gruesome ways.

But what should I dae? I cannae leave her here an ’ I cannae take her back with me.

Malcolm glanced at Ailis—at the square set of her shoulders, proud and unyielding, at the stubborn jut of her chin, the way she was covered in dirt and mud, as though she had been working in a barn without rest for days.

She didn’t look like a spy to him, but she also didn’t seem like the daughter of a great laird.

Even so, she is a beauty. Laird Sutherland an ’ his Council would ken tae use her as bait.

When she caught him staring at her, she took a step forward, her hands dropping from her hips. “Well? Will ye allow me a place in yer clan?”

“Nay,” said Malcolm firmly. “I would be a fool tae bring the enemy intae me own home.”

“I’m nae the enemy,” Ailis insisted, her green eyes suddenly alight with passion, her mouth pursing into a thin line. “If I were yer enemy, me laird, why would I have me faither’s men chasin’ after me? Why would they be tryin’ tae bring me back? Why would I be runnin’ from them?”

“Because this could all be yer faither’s ploy tae put ye in me home as a spy. Because perhaps he wants me tae think that ye’re tryin’ tae run away from him when ye’re actually workin’ fer his cause. How would I ken?”

“I’m tellin’ ye,” Ailis insisted. “Look me in the eyes an’ tell me I’m lyin’.”

For a moment, he stared at her in silence, gritting his teeth. The way she was looking at him, so earnestly, with such hope, but also with a stubborn, indignant edge to her, it was difficult to simply dismiss her and her words.

If she wasn’t a spy, then she was just a girl in need of help.

But if she was a spy, then keeping her close could also reveal many things to him about Laird Sutherland and his plans.

It was a risk, there was no doubt about that.

But it was a risk that could pay off, and Malcolm desired nothing more than to find a way to end this hostility between the two clans once and for all—no matter what it would take.

“Fine,” he said in the end. “Ye’ll come with me. The Council will determine yer fate.”

He didn’t have all the information he needed to make a decision.

Perhaps in the time it had taken him to patrol the borderlands, his Council would have received some word regarding the situation with Ailis and her father.

If she was telling the truth, then perhaps one of their allies or one of their spies would know.

For now, he had little choice but to take her with him and treat her like another one of the prisoners.

The relief in Ailis’ expression was palpable, like a living, breathing thing between them that forced Malcolm to release some of the tension he held in his shoulders himself.

She took a few faltering steps towards him, but then stopped again, perhaps because she noticed his expression—once again cold and closed-off, more hesitant to trust than ever.

“Since Sutherland men were killed in Flow Country, it is as good as a declaration o’ war,” Malcolm said, the reality of his situation slowly sinking in.

This was no mere skirmish; it had been a fight, brutal and merciless, and his men had killed all but a few of the Sutherland forces.

Ailis’ presence in his lands was now another complication, but it would not be what would spark the war—the war had already begun.

The thought left a bitter taste at the back of Malcolm’s mouth.

For so long, he had tried to avoid precisely this; a war with Clan Sutherland that was bound to decimate both their clans by the end of it.

And now war had been brought to his doorstep against his will, either by Laird Sutherland himself and his machinations, or by the hand of a naive and clueless daughter, who had only considered herself when she had come to seek asylum.

Out o ’ all the clans in the Highlands, why would she come here? Why would she go tae the enemy?

The answer came to Malcolm just as quickly as the question had come.

Because her faither ’ s allies would have returned her tae him the moment she fell intae their hands. But his enemy… could give her shelter… or keep her as a prisoner.

Could the life of a prisoner in the enemy’s hands be more bearable than by her father’s side?

Malcolm gazed at the girl but found no answer, none that would come easily and with full trust on his part.

If he wanted answers, he would have to dig for them himself, and he would need time.

Time that he did not have. Clan Sutherland would attack, and Malcolm could only think it would be sooner rather than later.