Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (77 page)

Read Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set Online

Authors: Kathryn Loch

Tags: #Historical Medieval Scottish Romance

BOOK: Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set
6.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Aye?”

“I just remembered something, but it be in regard tae the brigands who attacked the wedding train.”

“Go on, lad.”

“It doesna make a lot of sense, but I’ve heard some folks say they’re actually mercenaries and are being paid.”

“Stipendiary knights?” Aidan asked calmly, although his heart battered against his ribs. He had heard precious little about Hurstal’s group lately.

Fionnghall nodded. “This all be strange, so I dinna ken how much weight tae place in such a tale, but some believe a powerful English noble has hired them. ’Tis an odd rumor, but it be said that while they gain their coin from the English noble, it is a Scottish laird who directs them.”

Aidan frowned. Fionnghall was right, it made little sense. Suddenly it occurred to him that if Longshanks had employed the knights-errant to hunt Adam, he would need a way to contact them, to send them the coin they had earned. They moved around so much that this could prove quite difficult. But if Longshanks used a Scottish laird who was loyal to him—and many were—that would simplify communication. Plus, with the war, stipendiary knights, English or not, coming and going from a laird’s keep would not appear out of the ordinary at all.

“Interesting,” Aidan said. “Anything else?”

“Nay, that be all of it.”

“Thank ye, lad,” Aidan said and quickly left, his thoughts spinning. While the rumor had not made sense to Fionnghall, it was starting to make perfect sense to Aidan. His worry levered upward, now it was more important than ever that he confuse the rumors of a maid traveling alone with a bairn.

Chapter Thirteen

 

K
enna watched Jamie taking his turn on guard duty at the gate to the tower house as he brought his hand to his mouth and coughed, trying to cover his smile, but he failed. “All right, lassie,” he said, giving her a sideways glance. “That be close enough for today.”

Kenna stepped from the shadows and grinned at him. “Jamie, ye be far too vigilant. But ye best warn Ian tae pay attention. He spends too much time with his flask. I nearly made it tae the gate yesterday.”

Jamie chuckled and shook his head. “There be wagering amongst the guards. The odds are two tae one that ye make it through one of these days.”

She laughed and picked up the bucket she had brought to fill at the village well. “But I ken it willna be on yer watch.”

He glanced around, but no one paid them any mind. “I sent word tae my cousin. He will do his best tae find young MacGrigor and warn him.”

Kenna breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank ye, Jamie.”

He winked at her. “Be off with ye, lass, before ye get me in trouble.”

She nodded and walked to the well. A sennight had passed since Aidan’s departure. She still struggled with worry and boredom, but befriending some of the guards and all the sewing she and Mairi worked at helped a bit.

The men had quickly brought them piles of clothing that needed mending, and Connell had plenty of work helping the armorers.

But Kenna found the sewing dreadfully boring, and her mind still dwelt far too much on her worry over Aidan. She had thought she might put her spying skills to the test and help Aidan by discovering how much the Bruce truly knew about Edward’s bastard child, or his true intent in regard to Aidan himself.

She belatedly realized Connell’s warning, that the guards would watch them closely, was entirely accurate. On her first attempt, she hadn’t even reached the curtain wall to the tower house before she was discovered. But the guards simply ordered her back to her hut. Upon realizing that was all they would do, it became something of a game, and she supposed her attempts eased the monotony of their guard duty.

Kenna kept trying though. She thought of Jamie’s words and grinned. If she did make it through the gate, she would be so shocked she would have no idea what to do from there. Besides, the guards had all been nice enough to her. She didn’t want to get them in trouble. She hauled her bucket out of the well and headed back to the hut.

Smoke from the chimney billowed into the cold air. Mairi stood before the open door with her bairn carried in the sling Connell had devised for her. Outside of the hut, they had a table with a basket which the men could place their torn clothing in for them to repair. Kenna sighed softly as she noticed Mairi sorting through the basket that was once again nearly full.

“Blessed Mary,” Kenna muttered as she approached. “What are they doing?”

“Pardon?” Mairi asked and looked up at her.

“Their clothing. How do they manage tae destroy it doing nothing? There have been no battles while we have been here and very little practice, but I vow we see the same garments over and over.”

Mairi lifted one and looked at it then grinned. “Aye, milady, ye have it aright.” She pointed to some stitching. “This one I sewed back together a pair of days ago.”

“Perhaps ye lassies should start charging for yer fine stitching,” Connell said as he approached with two swords in hand. “That will make them more cautious about ripping their clothing.”

Kenna rolled her eyes at him. “And will ye start charging for every sword ye sharpen?”

“If I dinna get a larger whetstone, I just may,” he said with a wink. He placed the swords against the wall of the hut then snagged the bucket from Kenna and carried it inside.

“Thank ye, Connell.”

“Glad tae do it,” he said when he reappeared with a small stool in hand. He placed the stool next to the hut and sat, resting his back against the wall, and picked up a sword to hone. “Have ye made it tae the gate yet?” he asked innocently.

Kenna blushed furiously. She had not realized Connell was aware of her escapades, but then she wondered why it surprised her. Of course he would keep an eye on her in Aidan’s absence. “Nay,” she said when he glanced in her direction. “But I did find out the odds favor me.”

He grinned at her.

Kenna blinked in shock, wondering if she had imagined his smile. But just as quickly as it appeared it was gone, and he returned his attention to honing the sword, whistling softly.

“Will wonders never cease,” she muttered, walking into the hut.

“Pardon, milady?” Mairi asked.

“Nothing. I will wash our clothes and the bairn’s swaddling then help ye with the sewing.”

“Thank ye, milady.”

Kenna paused at the door, glancing at the sky, noting it was quite cloudy, but rain did not seem to threaten. She should at least be able to hang the clothing outside to dry.

She heard shouts of greeting and her heart lurched. Aidan? Had he returned? She lunged out of the hut, praying with all of her heart.

A group of a dozen men, all riding horses, led by two guards on foot, approached the camp. They were still at a bit of a distance, but Kenna’s gaze quickly scanned the lot for a familiar face. Her heart sank when she did not see it.

“New recruits, it seems,” Connell said from next to her.

Kenna nearly vaulted sideways. She didn’t realize he stood beside her. Mairi stepped next to him, holding Adam. Kenna managed to drag in a deep breath and slow her rattling heart. She looked back to the approaching men. No doubt they were quite welcome. As numbers went, Kenna knew the Bruce’s forces were woefully thin.

These men rode finer horses than the average Scot. Nobility? Kenna wondered. Only someone of rank, from a noble house, such as Aidan, could afford fine mounts. But while they rode good horses and wore plaids about their shoulders, their clothing seemed odd, especially for men of rank.

Kenna scowled as they continued to approach. Her gaze stopped on one man with a puckered scar on his cheek, and sheer terror shot through her. “Hurstal,” she whispered and latched onto Connell’s arm.

“What?”

“Hurstal! The brigands have found us.”

Connell snarled a curse. He shifted the sword he had been honing to his off-hand and drew his own with his right.

At that moment, Hurstal’s gaze locked on her. The savage delight in his expression made her blood run cold and nearly rooted her in place. He drew his sword, barked an order to his men, and spurred his horse.

“Get inside!” Connell’s arm shoved Kenna and Mairi toward the hut.

Hurstal broke from the group, his horse trampling one of the guards escorting him. The rest of his men drew their weapons and fell in stride behind him.

“Ye daft fools!” Connell bellowed. “Ye’ve brought the brigands inside our camp.”

“Connell!” Mairi screamed as Kenna pushed her toward the door of the hut. She fought to pull away.

“Nay!” Kenna barked. “Mairi, get inside.”

“Connell!”

Kenna managed to shove her through the door and glanced over her shoulder. The brigands would be on Connell in an instant, and the men in the camp stared dumbfounded at the fight unfolding under their very noses.

“Are ye Scotsmen?” Kenna screeched at the top of her lungs and pointed at Hurstal’s men. “Those are the brigands who slew my sister!”

Men sprang into action, grabbing weapons and shields.

One of the bastards seemed to appear out of nowhere, suddenly beside the hut, riding straight for Kenna. He swung his axe at her head. She barely ducked in time, certain the weapon trimmed a few locks of hair from her head. She dove into the hut and slammed the door behind her. There was no bar to speak of, only a weak latch. There was nothing sizeable enough to brace against it, and Kenna knew the door was so flimsy it wouldn’t do any good.

The cry to arms echoed through the camp. Men shouted as mayhem descended right outside their tiny hut. The ring of steel from Connell’s swords reverberated the loudest, but the clash of more weapons quickly joined the cacophony.

Kenna shoved Mairi and her crying bairn into a corner and grabbed her biodags. The door shattered inward and Kenna spun, hiding the weapons behind her back.

Hurstal loomed in the doorway. His gaze landed on her and he sneered, making his grotesque face even more terrifying. “Ah, girl, I have missed you.”

Horror froze her. Memories of pain and agony assailed her. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. All she could do was stand there quaking.

I’ll ne’er let him touch ye again,
Aidan’s voice whispered through her thoughts. Oh God, where was he? Her heart screamed his name. But his oath meant nothing when Hurstal was here and Aidan was not.

Hurstal stepped into the hut, flicking a glance at Mairi. “I will deal with your bastard in a moment.” He looked again at Kenna. “But you, girl, this time I will enjoy you, and we will not be interrupted.”

“Just kill me and be done with it!” she spat.

“Kill you? Nay, I plan on keeping you for a long time.” He reached for her.

In the eternity of a heartbeat, terror threatened to steal her sanity. But the memory of Aidan’s voice suddenly returned, his caring and compassion rose to the fore. Something burned away the terror possessing her. She refused to allow Hurstal to touch her. Aidan had stopped him before he could truly harm her. She was stronger than this, and now it was time the bastard paid for what he had done to Raven.

Kenna screamed in pure fury and lunged, her biodags sparking in the light of the hearth fire.

Hurstal’s gaze locked on her daggers and his smile vanished. He tried to haul himself back, but it was too late. Kenna’s biodags shot straight for his chest. He cut in an awkward block with his sword and managed to deflect one, but the other slammed into the chain mail hauberk at his shoulder. The steel links snapped and gave way. He howled in agony.

Kenna sprang away but lost her grip on her dagger as she tried to withdraw it. The long, wickedly sharp blade remained embedded.

“Bitch!” he roared, reaching up with his right hand and pulling the weapon free. It clattered to the floor.

Kenna snarled at him. The hut was too small. There was no room for her to move. But she vowed she would die before she allowed him to touch her.

Hurstal advanced more cautiously, his sword at the ready.

Kenna backed away, watching for an opening. She prayed she didn’t step on Mairi but could not afford to look away from Hurstal even for a moment. He lunged again.

Kenna leapt to her right, avoiding his sword, and drove her remaining biodag at his exposed left side. Again her weapon plowed into his chain mail hauberk and bucked under her hand. The woven links snapped then gave way, but only partially. The blade only drove in about three inches. Still, she knew it was a hard blow when she felt his blood coating her hand, hot and sticky.

Hurstal snarled in pain and dropped to one knee.

Kenna ripped her dagger free and lunged away as he tried to grab her with his left hand. He missed but caught the hem of her skirt and yanked, pulling her feet out from under her. She fell flat on her back. She struggled to suck air into her lungs and roll to her feet.

A terrified screech resounded, and a streak of glowing red cut across Kenna’s vision. She blinked in shock as red-hot embers struck Hurstal full in the face.

Mairi had crawled to the hearth fire. Adam cried but was still secure in the sling. She had gripped the small shovel used to scoop ash and had flung the red-hot embers at Hurstal. Howling, Hurstal clawed at his face. He staggered to his feet and swiped at Mairi, but she was ready with another shovelful of embers and tossed them at him again, striking him a second time.

Kenna grabbed the biodag she had dropped. Fisting both, she leapt to her feet and closed the distance.

Hurstal rolled out of the way and she missed, sliding to a stop. He regained his feet, clutching at his wounded side, but instead of trying to attack, he charged for the door and vanished through it.

Kenna blinked, momentarily stunned, expecting him to reappear at any moment. One heartbeat passed then a second, and she sucked in a ragged breath. She spun around to face Mairi.

“Mairi? Are ye hurt?” She suddenly found herself clinging to Mairi for all she was worth.

Mairi still sobbed and Adam still wailed in her arms, but she shook her head. “I’m all right.” For a moment, they simply tried to gather themselves.

Kenna heard the snap and crackle of flames, but it wasn’t coming from the hearth. A new fear cut through her, and she lifted her head. Oh blessed saints, nay! The embers had scattered throughout the hut. Some had landed on the bedding, and the blankets were now on fire. Kenna shoved her biodags into her belt and grabbed the bucket of water. She doused the flames on the bed, only to hear more behind her. She spotted flames on one of the plaids Connell had hung for privacy. The fire grew in size and strength with amazing speed, licking upward toward the thatched roof. She flung the remainder of the water on it, but it wasn’t enough. The roof ignited like a funeral pyre.

“Mairi!” Kenna cried, dropping the empty bucket and pulling Mairi with her. “Get out! Run!” She pushed her ahead.

Mairi looked at the roof above them and charged for the door.

Kenna managed to grab their packs and followed right behind, the roof nearly engulfed in fire.

Mairi, shielding Adam against her chest, sprinted out of the hut and plowed into Connell. She screamed, not realizing who he was.

“Mairi!” he barked, gripping her shoulders. “Peace!”

She looked up at him and buried her face against his chest, sobbing.

Connell held her for a moment, squeezing his eyes closed. But then he looked to the roof of the hut and his eyes widened. “Dear God,” he muttered. Looping one arm about Mairi’s shoulders, he reached out and grabbed Kenna, hauling them both away from the hut.

He sheltered both of them in his embrace as the fire fully claimed the tiny hut. Kenna coughed from the smoke she had inhaled and looked around. Hurstal, blood coating his left side, had somehow acquired his horse and was leading his four remaining men at a hard gallop back down the road. Men sprinted after them with weapons in hand, roaring in fury, but they would not be able to catch men on horses. By the time others gained their own mounts, Hurstal would be long gone.

Other books

The Hands of Time by Irina Shapiro
Midnight Sons Volume 1 by Debbie Macomber
I'd Rather Not Be Dead by Andrea Brokaw
Nobody's Angel by Clark, Jack
Thor (Recherché #1) by L.P. Lovell
Cherry Tree Lane by Anna Jacobs
Allergic To Time by Crystal Gables
Lost in Transmission by Wil McCarthy
Secrets of a Chalet Girl by Lorraine Wilson