Highland Seer (13 page)

Ahead of them, off to the right, stood a magnificent buck. It’s antlers were wide and multi-branched. Donal suppressed the urge to whistle. Instead, he eased the bow from his shoulder and nocked an arrow. Jamie and the lads did the same. Donal pulled and let fly. The arrow found it’s mark in the big animal’s neck. As it started to bolt, Jamie scored another hit. The buck, badly wounded, staggered. The lads’ arrows brought it down near a large tree where it collapsed. Donal dismounted and quickly cut its throat, ending its misery.

“All right, lads,” he said, “get the rope. We’ll tie it up to bleed out. When that’s done, I think we can head back to the keep with our heads held high.”

Chuckles greeted his pronouncement as the lads dismounted and tied the buck’s hind legs together. Jamie tossed the rope over a branch, then he and Forbes pulled the buck up off the ground. As they held the rope, Donal circled around the tree and tied it off securely. Dressing the buck would take a while, but with luck, they’d deliver their prize to Cook well before dinner time.

Forbes backed off a few steps to study their kill. Jamie bent to tug the arrows from the carcass. As he did, an arrow whistled out of the woods and buried itself in a branch by his head.

“What the hell?” Jamie flattened to the ground, then rolled behind the tree.

“Down, lads,” Donal ordered as he crouched by Jamie. Everyone dropped. Donal scanned the woods. Only the tap of the blood dripping from the buck’s throat broke the silence as it hit the forest loam beneath it. “Are ye well, Jamie?”

“Aye, or I will be when my heart starts beating again. That was too much like before.”

Donal shook his head. “That was close. Too close.” And he’d left his bow on his horse, out of reach. He’d have to risk a dash across some open space to retrieve it. “Bloody hell. The MacDuffs should be nowhere near here. And all our lads are still with us. Has someone else from the keep come hunting, too?”

Jamie shook his head. “Not by themselves, I wouldna expect. Ellie was right to warn us. She had a Seeing, not a dream.” He peered carefully around the tree.

Donal grabbed his sleeve. “Get back, ye daftie. They may still be out there.”

“Accident? Or warning?” Jamie asked, echoing Donal’s thoughts.

“Let’s find out,” Donal said, standing, but gripping Jamie’s shoulder to keep him from rising, too.

“Who’s there?” Donal shouted.

There was no answer. No arrow. Nothing but the steady drip, drip, drip from the carcass. Jamie stood, slowly. Still nothing. Donal continued scanning the trees, looking for the slightest movement. Nothing stirred.

“A warning, then?” Jamie finally said.

“Aye, perhaps.”

Donal motioned the others to their feet and made the dash to his horse. No reaction. No more arrows. Good enough then. Whoever shot at Jamie had gone. But he posted a perimeter watch, to be sure. Eyes in all directions, aye. Ellie hadn’t been sure whether the attack would end with one arrow. Not that he was accepting what she’d said as fact. Accidents like this could happen on any hunt. Nonetheless, he wished he had eyes in the back of his head, too, as he and Forbes gutted the carcass. But nothing else happened to delay them as they butchered the buck.

They made their way carefully back to the keep with their prizes, alert for the slightest threat. They saw no one, heard nothing, to threaten them.

Cook was happy to see what they’d brought. She rewarded the lads with warm bread fresh from the hearth, slathered with butter and jam. “Ye men,” she said when the meat had been brought in, “need a bath. Ye’re bloody from head to foot. Get cleaned up. I’ll see ye fed when ye dinna reek of it, aye?”

Donal, Jamie, and Forbes grinned at each other, suddenly aware of their ghastly appearance. They looked as though they’d fought a battle, not butchered a deer. “’Tis messy work,” Jamie told her, unnecessarily. Cook hooked a thumb over her shoulder, her message clear. Out. They went.

An hour later, they sat by the hearth in the great hall, finishing their repast. One of the lads who’d ridden with them ran from the kitchen. “The MacDuffs are back. It seems they had little luck hunting, but they set Micheil and the other lad to fishing, so we’ve trout to go with whatever else Cook prepares.”

“If the lads fished,” Jamie asked, “what did the MacDuffs do?”

“Ergan says they rode off for a while to see the countryside. Micheil asked them to stay close, but Ergan thinks they didna.”

Jamie and Donal exchanged a look. Indeed?

“Do ye think...”

“Now, lad,” Jamie stopped him in midword. “Keep such thoughts to yerself. We lack proof of anything.”

“Aye, sir.”

“That’s a good lad. Go on wi’ye, then.”

As the lad ran off, Donal leaned forward. “No proof, aye. But I think we’ll keep a closer eye on the MacDuff from here on out.”

“I think we must. I dinna like being made a target. Nearly dying of an arrow wound once was enough.”

****

Ellie wiped sweat from her brow then winced as she realized she’d left a bloody streak. Blood soaked her sleeves to the elbows from helping Cook butcher the sides of venison the Lathans had brought in while Cook’s helpers cleaned the smaller kills. Cook looked no better, nor did her helpers. The kitchen reeked of blood and the scraps collected in a bucket to go out to be tilled into the garden.

“A good haul our men made,” Cook said.

Ellie grimaced. “Some of them, anyway. This should keep us going for a few days. Then I’ll send them out again.”

“Did ye hear what happened after we shot the buck?” one of the lads asked.

“Nay, I didna. Do ye have a tale to tell, then?”

“Aye. We’d hauled the buck up into the tree to let it bleed out,” he said, “when an arrow flew out of the woods and lodged in the tree, barely missing Jamie’s head.”

“What!” Both she and Cook had exclaimed in unison, nearly blowing the lad back a pace in their shock.

Ellie wiped the blood from her hands. Ach, nay. The scene she’d remembered had been a Seeing, then, and not a dream.

“Someone attacked the Lathans and nearly killed Jamie? Why did they no’ report this to me? And after I warned them!” Ellie rounded on the lad, her expression, she knew, fierce enough to frighten him, but he’d just frightened the life out of her. Her heart pounded fit to burst through her breast. The Lathan ambassador nearly killed? How much more trouble must she face?

Jamie’s death would have been a disaster of epic proportions. Donal and the others would declare war, or leave, or leave then return with an army of Lathans to exact their revenge. Oh, God. She sank into a bench before her knees gave out, leaned on the bloody table and dropped her head into her hands. “Who?” She looked up at the lad. “Who did it?”

“We dinna ken who, Laird.”

“Where were the MacDuffs?”

“East, toward the burn.”

“Of course. Out of sight, I’m sure.”

Ellie looked at Cook, then back at the lad. “Do we know if anyone else left the keep to go hunting? On their own? Perhaps it was just an accident.” She could hope for that. She could.

“No one else has brought in a kill,” Cook told her.

Ellie closed her eyes. “I must speak to Jamie. Apologize to him. I never meant to put any of them in danger.”

“They ken that, lass,” Cook said. “‘Likely a MacDuff up to more mischief and they’ll think that, too.”

She shook her head. “That’s worse. I dinna need them fighting. They’ve kept their distance from each other up till now. I canna have Jamie challenging the MacDuff. I canna.”

“Then wash up and go speak to him.”

“Aye.” Ellie pushed up from the bench. “I’ll do that.”

In minutes, she found Jamie and Donal by the hearth in the great hall. She took a seat with them and plunged right in.

“The lads tell me ye were attacked today. Why didna ye report it?”

Donal’s lips thinned into a tense line. Jamie shook his head. “We dinna ken who shot at us, Laird MacKyrie. It couldha been an accident. We’ve no wish to accuse anyone without proof.”

“The MacDuff, ye mean.”

“Perhaps. Or a lad out hunting on his own, seeing movement through the trees and loosing an arrow without confirming his target. Once he heard us shout, likely he slunk away, praying his mistake wouldna be discovered.”

Ellie sighed and leaned back. Good, they were not bent on causing more trouble for her clan. Though Jamie looked calm enough, Donal had a cold stillness about him that made her palms sweat. She told herself that Jamie would not allow Donal to do anything rash. She could be sure of that. And Donal, when it came right down to it, would not do anything rash, either. He was too smart, too honorable, and he’d already received one lecture from Jamie and another from her for the fight between Bram and Micheil two days ago. Gods, only two days? It already seemed a lifetime since the Lathans had arrived.

“I’m glad to hear ye say ye willna act without proof. Even if one of Lachlan’s men...”

“If that’s who shot the arrow,” Jamie said, interrupting her, “we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Perhaps,” she argued. “But I’ll no’ have another battle in my hall—or in my keep. I intend to ask Lachlan to leave as soon as the pass is clear. That should put an end to this, one way or the other.”

Donal shook his head. “Ye ken that’s no the case. MacDuff will keep coming back.”

“As long as he perceives us to be a threat to his ambitions, we’re at risk,” Jamie added. “As are ye.”

“But,” Donal continued, reaching out to cover her hand where it rested on the chair arm, wrapping it in his big, strong fingers, “we’re also smart, canny, and experienced fighters. We’ll no’ be the cause, but we will finish any fight he starts.”

Ellie stood, pulling her hand from his as she gained her feet. As much as she craved his touch, she did not want it right now. It confused her. Made her forget the reason she had found them. The danger she’d put them in. Donal’s threat of more violence. “Let’s hope he has better sense, then.” She pursed her lips. “My apologies again, Jamie. It was never my intention to send ye into danger today. I tried to warn ye. If any ‘proof’ makes its way to ye, I trust ye’ll bring it to my attention before ye act.”

“Of course, Laird MacKyrie.”

“Good. Then I’ll see ye at dinner. We’ll enjoy the bounty ye brought us today.”

****

“That’s it, laddie. Keep yer guard up. Watch yer opponent’s eyes and shoulders. Those will tell ye what he’s plannin’ to do next.” Donal walked among the younger MacKyries, looking for any with more advanced skills and instincts for the fight. The Lathans, with the exception of Jamie who was meeting with Ellie, were each paired with an older lad. Micheil, he noted with relief, sparred with Innis. Bram stood on the other side of the practice field, well out of reach. And the MacDuffs, he was glad to note, were nowhere to be seen. Still lounging about the hall, more than likely. Donal shook his head.

Aye, Micheil may have done the best he could with this lot, but his best had not been good enough. These lads needed months of instruction and years of practice to hone their muscles, their timing, and their skills, both with bladed weapons and their fists. Time he did not mean to spend here. But what else could he do? Walk away and leave them to the tender mercies of the likes of the MacDuff? Nay, he could not do that either, not to the lads, and especially not to Ellie. It had been one thing to hear about the other clans threatening her. It was quite another to put a face to the one most determined to undermine and conquer her. The thought of Ellie suffering that man’s attentions was enough to raise Donal’s ire to the breaking point. There had to be another answer.

“Duck, Robbie!” he yelled to a lad about to get whacked in the head by his sparring partner’s wooden sword. Aye, that would hurt. And Ellie wouldn’t appreciate it if her laddies were badly injured under his tutelage. Donal continued moving among the pairs, giving a word of encouragement here, a brief demonstration of a technique there. Finally, his circuit brought him to a lad whose face looked oddly familiar. Aye, it was one of the youngsters injured in the attack on the wagon. “Good lad,” he said as he stopped the pair. “Bide a wee and let me look at ye.”

Startled, the lads lowered their weapons.

“What are yer names?”

The lad he recognized spoke up. “I’m Davy, and this is Malcolm.”

“Davy, glad I am to see ye well enough, despite the snowy weather, to take part in the training.”

“Thank ye, sir. Ellie took good care of us who were hurt the day ye saved us.”

“Ellie does that? Have ye no healer in the clan?”

“Aye, sir. But Ellie doesna stray far when there’s anyone in the sick room. Fergus is still there and she watches him like a hawk.”

“Does she now?” That must be where she disappeared to during the daytime.

“Aye, sir. But he must be gettin’ better because he’s cranky when he’s awake.” Donal’s chuckle must have reassured the lad enough to continue. “He asks about ye Lathans and what’s happenin’ around the keep.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Would ye go to see him, sir? He’d like a visit, I’m certain he would.”

“I’ll do that. In fact, I’ll do it today.”

Davy rewarded Donal with a wide grin, but then he cocked an eyebrow as he glanced over Donal’s shoulder.

Donal turned to see Ellie watching from the steps leading into the keep. She captured his gaze and smiled at him. Aye, she kept a close eye on her charges. Or on him? An unaccustomed frisson of pleasure stole up Donal’s spine. There was no way to be certain, save for asking her, but Donal savored the thought for a moment before turning back to the lads. “Verra well, then, show me what ye’ve learned before Cook calls us all in for the midday meal.”

Donal stayed with his charges for a while longer, correcting their technique and giving encouragement. To keep them from getting hurt, he had to keep his attention on them, but he could sense Ellie’s eyes on him even when his back turned to her. Finally, he accepted that he was letting her presence distract him. He might as well ask her to take him to see Fergus. He headed for Bram and caught his gaze when he and his sparring partner finished their practice.

“Take over here,” Donal told him. “I’ve business in the keep.”