Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (63 page)

On her left, she again heard the snort of a horse, this time accompanied with the rattle of armor, and nearly leapt sideways. “What the devil?”

Edana stood. “Now that I heard. Back tae the wagon,” she snapped. “Captain!”

Kenna grabbed Mairi’s arm and helped her to her feet as she struggled to balance while holding her bairn.

“What now, ye fool chit?” the captain bellowed.

The scream of a horse resounded, and suddenly men and animals exploded through the trees into the clearing.

Mairi cried out in terror, clinging to her bairn, and Kenna hauled on her arm. “Get tae the wagon!” she barked, but Mairi stood frozen.

Shouts erupted from the guards. Kenna looked for the captain, only to see him frantically trying to defend himself against a well-armored mounted knight. More men on horses, about ten in all, charged her pitiful, unprepared, half-drunk guards. The shouts turned into screams as the guards ran, trying to draw their weapons. The first to die was Ross. His sword never cleared its scabbard as he fell under the hooves of a charging horse.

It took Kenna only an instant to realize the attackers were English knights turned brigand. Their armor and horses were much finer than the clansmen they faced, but they were also dirty and disheveled, their armor damaged and pitted in places. They may have been the king’s men at one time, but no longer.

“Run, milady!” Edana screamed, grabbing her arm and Mairi’s. She shoved them toward a dense copse of trees.

Kenna regained her wits and sprinted forward, hauling Mairi with her. Just as she reached the trees, she looked over her shoulder and saw, to her horror, that Edana did not follow.

A knight slaughtered another guard, charging straight for the women, but Edana did not quail. She snatched up a rock as large as her meaty fist and heaved it at the knight. Kenna blinked in shock as the rock landed with a solid metallic
bong
on the side of the knight’s helm and knocked him from his horse.

“Edana!” Kenna barked. “Come on!”

The captain had managed to slay the horse of the knight attacking him. Before the knight could free himself, the captain drove his sword through his chest.

Edana turned and ran after them, but another knight broke through.

“Behind you!” Kenna screamed.

Edana lunged to the side, and the knight’s axe missed her head. Within an instant, Edana turned around and somehow managed to grab the knight’s leg, hauling on it with all of her strength as the horse charged past. The knight flipped out of his saddle and slammed into the ground. His horse galloped away, but the knight rolled to his feet with surprising ease, brandishing his weapon.

“Nay!” Kenna screamed, shoving Mairi toward the trees as she sprinted toward Edana.

The knight stepped forward again, lifting his axe. He meant to kill her! Kenna’s thoughts scrambled. Who were these brigands that would give no quarter to a woman? Why would he not take her prisoner?

Just as Edana had done, Kenna scooped a rock from the ground and threw it with all her might. Her aim wasn’t as accurate as Edana’s, but the rock struck the knight’s chest. Unfortunately, it bounced off his chain mail, and with the padding underneath, was nothing more than a glancing blow. But the knight looked at Kenna for a split second, glaring at her from under his open-faced helm.

Edana balled up her fist and slammed it into the man’s jaw. He crumpled to the ground unconscious.

Edana saw Kenna running toward her. “Nay!” She charged forward and grabbed Kenna’s arm, hauling her back toward the trees. “Run!”

Mairi had reached the trees and stopped, looking back. Her eyes widened in terror, and she screamed at the same moment Kenna heard hoofbeats behind her. Edana again shoved her forward, and Kenna suddenly had to fight to not go flying face-first into the dirt. She recovered her balance and looked back in time to see a giant knight nearly on top of Edana.

Kenna’s gaze locked on the man’s face, the left side puckered with a grotesque scar. Edana tried to lunge away, but the knight’s mace descended and slammed into her head. Blood and gray matter flew as she collapsed, trampled under the warhorse’s hooves.

Kenna screamed in horror. She turned to run back and help her friend, but a slight hand grabbed her arm with surprising strength. “She’s dead!” Mairi cried, pulling Kenna toward the trees.

Kenna’s gaze never left the knight as he continued to close the distance. Her hands curled, claw-like, blinding fury possessing her thoughts.

“Run!” Mairi screamed as Adam shrieked ear-piercing cries.

The bairn!

Dear God, women meant nothing to these men. They had killed Edana; they would kill Mairi and the infant too. Kenna’s fury vanished and her wits returned hand in hand with her terror. She dove with Mairi into the trees, grateful to see even thicker undergrowth only a few paces away. She pushed Mairi ahead of her. Branches and thorns ripped at their hair and clothing, but they charged through the thicket without hesitation.

Kenna heard the horse crashing behind them, but it stopped and squealed. Before diving under another bush, she glanced back and saw the knight trying to urge the animal forward, but it refused, rearing in protest.

Kenna scrambled on her hands and knees under the bushes, knowing any guards who might still be alive had abandoned her. They weren’t paid enough to die for anyone but themselves.

She and Mairi continued deeper into the thicket. Kenna spotted small game paths and followed them. The undergrowth remained too dense for the knights’ horses to enter, but she heard shouts—they were cutting through with their swords.

Kenna pulled Mairi to a stop, looking around. Voices came from different directions. The knights were trying to surround them.

Mairi sobbed terribly, barely able to breathe. She clutched her bairn so tightly to her chest she muffled its cries, but Kenna feared she would suffocate the poor child.

“Mairi, listen tae me,” Kenna whispered harshly. “Mairi, please! Calm yerself.”

God, the terror in her eyes. “They’ll kill me,” she whispered. “They’ll kill my baby.”

Kenna tried to force her own fear down so she could think, but the vision of Edana’s gruesome murder remained foremost in her thoughts. “I’m the only one who stands a chance.”

“M-milady?”

“I’m the daughter of a laird. They can ransom me back tae my father or my betrothed.”

Mairi shook her head violently. “What if neither of them pay?”

“Dinna worry about me, Mairi, I’m worth gold tae them. They won’t hurt me. Ye have tae take your bairn and run.”

“But—”

“Dinna argue,” she snarled under her breath. “Run south. Remember the captain said there’s an inn. Ye will be safe there.”

Huge tears dripped down Mairi’s cheeks, and her entire body shook violently.

“Give me some of his swaddling,” Kenna whispered as she picked up a branch roughly the same size as the bairn.

Mairi could barely free the cloth, her hands shook so terribly, but she managed. “What are ye doing?”

“I’m going tae lead them away from ye.”

Mairi shook her head. “What if they kill ye like Edana?”

“They willna; they need the coin.” She wrapped the cloth around the branch so it looked like a bairn. “Try tae keep him quiet.”

“He’s terrified. They’ll hear him.”

Kenna managed a smile and let out her own wail that sounded so much like Adam’s cries, she startled the wee bairn into silence. “They will follow me. Now run!”

Mairi blinked at her then her tears surged anew down her cheeks. She surprised Kenna with a strong embrace. “Thank ye, milady.”

Kenna returned her embrace, her terror threatening to rise again, but she forced it down. “Take care of him.”

“Blessed Mother protect ye.”

Kenna released her and pushed her in the proper direction. “Run tae the inn.”

Mairi darted into the trees.

The voices grew louder along with the crashing as the knights cut their way closer.

Kenna again let out the wail and sprinted in the opposite direction. She heard a knight approaching on foot, his sword cutting through the bushes, and hesitated, looking back at him and hefting her tree branch like she would if it was Adam.

“I see her!” the knight barked. “Over here!”

Kenna darted into thick bushes and sprinted away.

“Where’s the child?”

Kenna wailed again.

“She has him! Hurry! She’s moving north.”

For a time, Kenna hoped she might be able to manage an escape of her own. If she could make it back to the road and get some distance from the knights before they realized and fetched their horses, she might be able to stay hidden along the trail and join Mairi at the inn.

But there were too many of them, and it seemed like with every turn she made another knight loomed before her. Their circle tightened around her like a noose about her neck. She dodged one knight, diving between trees, only to slam into another.

His hands clamped on her arms painfully, and she dropped the swaddled branch.

The knight looked down at her fake bairn and his eyes widened in fury. “It’s not her!” he roared. “It’s only a tree branch!”

“Find the other wench!” another voice barked. Kenna saw the scarred man who had slain Edana step through the undergrowth. “Get to your horses and find her!”

“Why trouble yerselves?” Kenna snapped. “I am a laird’s daughter. I’m the one worth coin.”

The scarred knight sneered at her, making his face even more grotesque. “That is the only reason why I haven’t slit your throat.” He grabbed her arm from the first knight, his fingers closing like a painful vice. Kenna gritted her teeth and didn’t utter a sound. She had suffered worse from her father. The knight hauled her out of the thicket. “Mark my words,” he muttered. “If I do not receive the coin I demand, you will be the one paying for leading me on such a merry chase.” His gaze raked over her, making her skin crawl. “And that debt I shall enjoy collecting.

I
t was only late afternoon, but the skies rapidly darkened with black clouds and thunder rumbled ominously. An icy wind tugged at Aidan’s cloak. He rode silently next to Connell along a deserted road. In the distance, a small township on the outskirts of Glen Trool came into view. Aidan looked up at the threatening clouds, wondering if they would make it to shelter before it started raining.

His thoughts remained as dark as the clouds looming over them. He had tried to forget the day but it would not leave him. The thirtieth of March marked a day exactly ten years ago that would remain permanently emblazoned on his memory.

It was the day Longshanks had answered the challenge of the Scottish king, Balliol, and gone to war. But it had been the townsfolk of Berwick that had paid the price in blood. Aidan had only seen twenty seasons at the time and had been actively building his nests of birds in various areas. Still learning the finer points of his chosen field of spy craft, Aidan knew Ronan would need information about the war that was brewing. He had traveled to Berwick.

Despite his youth and inexperience, Aidan had managed to discover that when Longshanks moved, he would claim his vengeance with a mighty temper. Aidan had tried to warn the leaders of Berwick what awaited them. But in the folly of his youth, he had inadvertently insulted the leaders of the town, and the fools had ignored the words of a Highland lad who could not mind his tongue. Longshanks had stormed the town, allowing only women to leave. The men he had slaughtered. When the English king was finished, over eleven thousand men lay dead in the streets, blood flooding the gutters. Longshanks only stopped because members of the clergy pleaded with him to cease.

Never had Aidan seen carnage on such a massive scale. As he had gazed upon the horror, he had been unable to stop his gut as it emptied itself. Horror had possessed him. Surely he could have done more to convince the leaders of Berwick to listen, to heed his warning. He had obtained the information in advance; the leaders had known. If only he had tried harder, if he had not allowed the insult to pass his lips, surely he could have stopped the slaughter of innocents.

To this day, nightmares of the bloodbath haunted him, and sometimes he still awoke retching violently. Although he had told Ronan of what had happened, he had never spoken of what he had directly witnessed and vowed he never would. Information had always been the key; the knowledge he had obtained would have saved so many if only he had used wisdom and not allowed his temper to speak for him. Because of his folly, the deaths of so many would always weigh heavily on his shoulders.

Aidan shivered, pulling his cloak tighter around him, and glanced up again at the black clouds. He would be glad when this day was over and he could put the memory to rest for another year. Kicking his horse forward, he picked up the pace, hoping to reach shelter before the rain started.

They stopped their horses before the inn that Raven had worked at as a tavern wench. A stable boy dutifully trotted out and took their horses to the barn. Aidan and Connell entered just as the rain started to fall.

The place was not large, but it was clean and well kept. The common room had a massive hearth on the far end with a huge fire. There were several patrons sitting at the tables. Against the back wall were stairs leading to the rooms.

At the bar, Aidan immediately spotted the owner. “Ho, innkeep,” Aidan barked.

“Aye?” the balding man asked.

“Two rooms and hot meals,” Aidan replied, pulling some coins from his belt pouch. With the weather worsening, he knew the inn would quickly become crowded this eve.

The innkeeper nodded, took the coins, and gestured to one of the tables in the common room. “Have a seat,” he said. “My lass will bring yer food shortly.”

Aidan and Connell sat at a table near the large hearth and made themselves comfortable, but as he looked around, he scowled. The inn was active but not close to busy yet, but as Aidan watched the serving lass, he knew it would take some time for her to reach them. Finally, she approached with two tankards and placed them on the table.

“I will bring yer food shortly.”

Aidan looked up at her, giving her a winsome smile. “Is something amiss, lass? Pardon my saying, but ye seem a bit harried, and with the weather this eve, it will only grow worse.”

She hesitated, her expression growing pained. “Aye,” she said. “Normally another lass works with me, but we havena seen her in a pair of weeks. I fear Rhona has gone missing.”

“Missing?” Aidan said softly. “Perhaps she simply found another source of income.” He paused and winked at Connell, even though he knew Rhona would not do anything of the sort.

The lass shook her head, her fear growing more apparent. “Nay,” she said firmly. “I ken Rhona. She has worked here for years and is good friends with the owner. There has been word of bandits plaguing the roads.”

“Bandits?” Aidan asked, scowling.

“Aye, knights-errant they are rumored tae be, but none ken for certain.” She paused and glanced around as if worried someone would hear her. “I fear for my friend.” She drew a deep breath. “Forgive me, I must see tae the others. I will be back with yer food.” She hurried away, and Aidan looked back to Connell in concern.

“With the war,” Connell said softly, “deserters have always been a problem, but Longshanks has struggled tae feed his men.”

“Aye,” Aidan replied. He glanced around and saw two men sitting at the table next to them, their expressions grim as they spoke quietly.

“Any word from Nevin?” one man asked.

The other shook his head. “I dinna understand this. Nevin’s carpentry was in great demand as of late. He was making good coin. I dinna ken why he would just abandon it.”

Aidan swallowed hard. Nevin was the second bird in his employ. Was it possible someone had discovered them? He didn’t see how, but none of this made sense.

“Mark my words,” the first said, “it be the bloody knights-errant causing trouble again.”

Aidan took a long drink from his tankard and looked at the two men. “My friend and I be traveling these roads,” he said to them. “What be this I hear about brigands?”

The two looked at him, startled, but the first nodded. “Then ye best mind yerselves.”

“How long have they been here?”

“A few weeks, from what I’ve gathered. They dinna approach populated areas. They only strike travelers on the roads or attack outlying farms, but in the short time they’ve been here, they’ve caused nothing but trouble. The justiciar in Glen Trool has increased patrols, but he is hesitant tae do more because of the rumors over the Bruce.”

The serving maid brought Aidan and Connell their food. Aidan dug through his belt pouch for a couple of coins. “Ales for the lads, if ye please,” he said and nodded toward the two men.

“Of course,” she said and hurried away.

“Thank ye, laddie,” the first said.

“Now what were ye saying about the Bruce?”

“Ye ken he got himself crowned?”

“Aye,” Aidan replied. “Word is he’s moving tae renew the war.”

The men nodded. “Longshanks moves his armies in this direction.”

Aidan’s jaw tightened.

“Because of that, the justiciar at Glen Trool keeps his men close at hand. I canna say that I blame him, but the brigands take advantage, robbing any and all they encounter on the roads.”

Aidan’s scowl deepened. Why would knights-errant take any interest in Raven or Nevin? The only answer he could think of was that the two had been trying to get more information, and the brigands had discovered them. He shivered, forcing his attention to his meal before it grew cold. If that was the case, they were probably both dead.

“Thank ye, lads,” Aidan said softly. “My friend and I will take care on the roads.”

“From what I be hearing, lad,” the first said, “ye’d be best served tae remain here until they decide tae move tae fresh hunting grounds.”

Aidan arched an eyebrow at him but said nothing more.

HHH

The sun had set long ago, and icy rain fell in torrents. The giant brute who had latched onto Kenna’s arm seemed unwilling to release her as he dragged her off of his horse and up a steep, heavily wooded trail. She could see nothing in the darkness, and her teeth chattered violently from terror and cold.

The trail grew steeper and rockier. They turned slightly, and Kenna spotted a faint golden glow coming from an opening between two giant rocks. A cave? They were taking her to a bloody cave? The freezing rain continued to pelt her head. Maybe it would at least be dry.

They entered the cave, and Kenna saw two more knights sitting before a large fire. They looked wide-eyed at her then at each other, but Kenna noted they said nothing.

“At least it wasn’t for naught,” the scarred man muttered, dragging her past the fire and deeper into the cave.

Her heart quailed when she saw the pallets and bedding. Oh God, he had made the threat but surely—

The man shoved her at a separate pallet with a moth-eaten blanket. “Move from that spot and I’ll take my payment early.”

Kenna knew not to challenge him with her gaze, and on her hands and knees, she stared at the ground. She didn’t dare make a noise. Living with her bastard of a father since her mother had passed twenty years ago had taught Kenna how to listen without being observed. For when her father’s eye landed on her, she paid for it in bruises and blood.

“Hurstal?” one man called as he and the others entered the cave.

Kenna stole a glance up at them as she slowly moved to sit on the pallet and wrapped the thin blanket around her shoulders. The rest of the men also entered, but she was surprised to see their numbers were only six from the original ten. But with the two who had been waiting in the cave, they were back up to eight.

“We send word at dawn,” the scarred man called Hurstal said.

Kenna braced herself, knowing what he would ask next. He would need to know her clan and her betrothed. But to her shock, he ignored her. Perhaps he already knew? How? Then another thought occurred to her and she scowled. Could this be one of her father’s foul plots?

“We shall send word to both her father and her betrothed. Demand triple the coin for the trouble she cost us.”

One man rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly appearing as if he had eaten some bad fish. “You’re certain, my lord?”

Hurstal’s head snapped around. He said nothing but stared at the man who spoke.

The man fidgeted, refusing to look at him. “As you will.”

“Until then, no one touches the wench but me. I’ll not have her value damaged.”

“My lord,” a third man said. “You are aware that MacLean and Stewart most likely will not pay any ransom.”

Hurstal scowled and looked back at Kenna. “Why? She is a comely wench. Are you barren?”

“I dinna ken,” she whispered, praying the conversation would go no further.

“You virginal?”

She nodded, fighting back tears.

The soft chuckle he uttered chilled her soul.

“But what of the other—”

“In due time,” Hurstal snapped.

The men again looked at each other, then around the cave, seemingly anywhere but at the face of their scarred leader.

“Did anyone think to grab any food?”

“Aye,” another man said. “I searched the bodies and wagon. I gathered plenty of provisions, whiskey, and removed anything of value from the lady’s trunks. But she had little in the way of possessions. We gained two sound horses the guards rode and the wagon horses as well.”

Hurstal gave him a curt nod, but he looked at Kenna and his scowl deepened. “What is wrong with you, wench? Have you nothing?”

“My father did not value a girl child.”

“Then you’d best pray God strikes him with a generous mood when my demand arrives.”

Kenna’s heart nearly shattered. No matter how hard she battled her tears, they broke free and streamed down her face. She had been dreading her wedding so terribly. How could this have possibly gotten any worse? But somehow it had. She knew the future that awaited her. Her father would not pay. It was unlikely her betrothed would either, probably believing her already sullied by the brigands. Never before had she so completely feared the dawn.

HHH

Late the next night, Aidan and Connell departed the inn to search the dark land. He left Connell to wait in a clearing with the horses. Aidan moved through the trees slowly and cautiously. He followed a track, crouching to peer at the disturbed, muddy earth. He saw several tracks of metal-shod heavy horse. Then he spotted the track of a small boot.

Aidan progressed silently through the thick copse of trees. He had spent most of last night at the tavern, listening to rumor. A majority of it was boring and absolutely useless, but the local villagers also noticed more than they realized. Many times they had seen evidence of the bandits in the area but had no idea what they were looking at. They complained about damage to small areas of their crops, usually blaming a neighbor’s wayward grazing animal or the troublesome children down the road. But Aidan quickly gathered it was far more than that.

One farmer had noticed fresh damage earlier in the day, and it was there Aidan had started his search. Once he found the tracks, it was a small matter for him to follow them.

He focused on the small boot print. Aidan knew if Raven had to travel rough terrain in weather like this, or if she thought there might be trouble, she often wore men’s clothing and a short sword belted around her waist, her slight form making her appear as a lad. Despite his concern, his lips lifted; she was also quite adept with that short sword too. He continued, this time seeing another small boot print. They were the right size for her, and hope blossomed within him.

The wooded area the tracks led him to wasn’t large, but it was dense. Freezing rain started to fall, drenching him, and he shivered. He searched the area thoroughly and found a small spot where the ground had swaths of bare dirt, the dead leaves and grass pushed to the side. It didn’t take him long to determine there had been a fight here.

Moments later, he found Nevin’s badly decaying body. His heart dropped to his boots and he crossed himself, murmuring a word of prayer for his friend’s departed soul. Nevin had various sword wounds, but it had been a blow to the head that had slain him. Most likely from a horseman’s hammer. Everything of value had been taken. Aidan’s heart twisted as he forced himself to walk away. He could do nothing for his friend now. He vowed to return to bury Nevin’s body, but in the light of day, and after he found Raven.