Read Highlander Redeemed (Guardians of the Targe Book 3) Online
Authors: Laurin Wittig
Duncan tilted his head to beckon Scotia over to him, then made room for her next to him on the log that served as a bench.
“You did not have to do that,” he said quietly while keeping his attention focused on the two Protectors and the two Guardians who were, for the moment at least, consumed by finding out who knew what when.
“I did not know I was going to until I heard Jeanette’s question. ’Twas time to reveal the secret. Nicholas knows already. The English are upon us. Either I am prepared to go into battle with the warriors or I am not.” In truth, she had not known what she was about until the words came out of her mouth, proving her sister’s assertion that she was too impetuous, though in this case it was the right thing to do. She was sure of it. Whatever argument she and Duncan had had earlier in the day, for the full length of the afternoon they had worked perfectly as a team, and her gift had helped them track the two soldiers, proving she was ready to fight the English as a warrior.
Kenneth and Uilliam wandered into the campsite from the near end of the clearing and immediately joined the six in the council circle, but the Guardians were still demanding answers from the Protectors and did not notice. Kenneth and Uilliam exchanged a look of surprise, then joined Duncan and Scotia.
“What did Nicholas and Malcolm do?” Kenneth asked with a chuckle.
“Malcolm withheld a suspicion. Nicholas withheld knowledge. Neither Guardian is happy they were not included in the secret,” Duncan said.
“Secret? What secret?” Uilliam said, pulling hard on his thick black beard.
“My secret,” Scotia said. “Duncan has been training me with sword, shield, and dagger, as well as in tracking, strategy, and in learning how my gift works.” Funny, now that the news was out, she did not ken why she had kept silent about it for so long, but then she realized her father was no longer laughing at the four people who were still “discussing” the secret. She looked over at him, happy that he sat on the far side of both Duncan and Uilliam.
“Why?” For some reason his question caught the attention of the others, and they went silent, turning to face the four on the log.
“Aye,” Rowan said, putting her hands on her hips, “why?”
The accusatory tone lit Scotia’s temper. “So I can go into battle with the warriors and avenge the deaths of Mum and Myles, and so many others, of course.”
Duncan pressed his lips together. “’Tis more complicated than that, though that was the leverage I used. The day I was put in charge of her I found her training herself.” He looked over at Malcolm. “She’d been watching you train the lads and could repeat the exercises herself near perfectly.” He glanced at her, then gripped his knees and sighed. “I offered to train her in exchange for her staying in my company at all times when she was away
from the caves. The bargain was struck that when the time came to fight,
if I deemed her ready
, I would make sure she was part of the battle.”
“And do you deem her ready?” Kenneth asked, his voice unnervingly even.
Duncan hesitated, and all the tiny hairs on Scotia’s neck rose.
“Tell them, Duncan,” she said. “Tell them how I have trained hard. I am quick with my blades. I think well in the midst of a fight—”
“A fight?!” Kenneth was on his feet.
“Sparring, Da,” Scotia said, holding her hand out as if that would stop his ire. “Today was the closest I have been to an actual confrontation with our enemies since my training began, but Duncan pulled us back to bury Brodie, even though I thought we should attack and keep the scouts from reporting back to Sherwood.”
And still Duncan was silent, except now so was everyone else. If only she could know his thoughts. Now that would be a truly useful gift. But she did not. She could only ken where he was, naught else, and she did not need her gift to ascertain that right now.
“Duncan, tell them I am ready. Tell them how I proved myself this day.” And still he sat mute. “Duncan?”
“She is not ready, then,” Nicholas said. His rescue of Duncan had Scotia on her feet. If he would not proclaim her ready she would have to do it herself.
“I am ready.” She held her hands loosely at her side, as Duncan had taught her so that she did not look threatening, but also so that she could grab her weapons quickly if the need arose. Of course her weapons were hidden in the forest, but she would not have drawn them on her family anyway. “If you wish to test my skills, I am willing, but Duncan can attest to my strength, my speed, my agility.”
“I
can
attest to those. She is a quicker study and a more focused student than any I have seen before. She has worked hard to hone
her skills and strengthen her body.” That brought him a glare from both Kenneth and Uilliam, but Duncan did not let it stop him. “She is also good at strategy, showing a creative mind for it.”
“So she is ready?” Nicholas asked.
Duncan looked at Scotia. “I am sorry.” Then he looked Nicholas in the eye. “She is not.”
Scotia pivoted to face her new foe. “How can you say that? You promised me! How can you lie to everyone? I am ready. I proved it this very day. Why do you lie?!”
Duncan ran his palm over his face and slowly rose to face Scotia. He reached for her hands, but she ripped them out of his grasp and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I do not lie, Scotia, and you well ken it. Yes, this very day you did well in the afternoon, but in the morning you did not, and that impulsiveness, that lack of being willing to follow orders exactly as they are given, not as you wish them to be, or at all,
that
will get someone killed. Perhaps you, perhaps someone else. Most likely both. I cannot support you going into battle when I do not fully trust you to do as you are told. No one should die because I was not willing to tell the truth, no matter how much it might hurt you, though that is not my intention.” He looked at each person in the circle, Uilliam rising to join everyone else as he met Duncan’s glance, until finally his gaze landed on Nicholas.
“I wish I could report otherwise, but I cannot. Scotia is not ready to join the warriors in battle.”
D
UNCAN COULD FEEL
a muscle in his clenched jaw twitch as he watched Scotia storm toward the main cave. When she disappeared into the darkness, he dropped to his seat on the log, his back to the angry lass. He was angry, too. Events had conspired against him teaching her this last and perhaps most important
lesson, forcing him into a corner where he either lied to Nicholas and Scotia, telling her what she wanted to hear, or he told the truth to both of them.
He could not lie, not to Nicholas, not to Scotia, and now Scotia would likely never speak to him again. He knew that in her eyes, he had betrayed his promise to her. But she was not ready for battle. If they had been able to finish their argument she might have understood why she was not ready, and she might not have pressed him into a corner where he had to deny her what she so badly desired.
She was smart. She learned quickly when the motivation was strong. He had no doubt she would understand what she needed to do, and would master it. And when she did, he would go to Nicholas and change his recommendation.
But he could do none of that if she refused to listen to him.
So he would have to make her listen—if he had time.
“When do we leave the Glen of Caves?” he asked Nicholas.
“Most of the warriors who have remained here will leave at dawn. We’ll want more watches now that the English are nearly here. We’ll have to set the lads to watching the passes.” He looked at his wife. “Rowan, I think ’tis best if the Guardians remain here for now.”
“Aye,” she replied. “We will use the time to continue our studies and prepare what defenses we can, but we will have to move closer to the battle eventually, love. We will not be able to assist from here.”
Nicholas nodded. “That means Malcolm and I remain here as Protectors. Kenneth, Uilliam, you take command of the warriors in Glen Lairig. You ken the land far better than I do, and you ken the men and their particular strengths well. You can continue the preparations until we travel to meet you.”
“So I am to go with them?” Duncan asked, hoping that would give him enough time to make Scotia understand what she had yet to master.
Nicholas narrowed his eyes and was quiet, then finally nodded as if he’d made a decision. “Nay. I think ’tis best if you remain here and continue to keep watch over Scotia. ’Twould not do to have her take it into her head to join us on the battlefield despite our conversation here. You are the only one who has been able to keep her . . . contained. I am sorry. You would be a great asset in the coming battle, but we cannot let her create chaos when control is what we are after.”
Duncan fought to breathe. Not part of the battle? “But . . .”
“Nay, Duncan. No ‘but.’ We need you to keep Scotia safely away from the fray. The lass never means to bring harm to others, but it has happened, and we cannot risk the distraction she would be.”
Duncan knew he would make the same decision if he were in Nicholas’s place, but that did not mean he liked it any better. He took a deep breath and reminded himself of the lesson Scotia needed to learn.
Take an order, and execute it as directed.
L
ORD
S
HERWOOD PULLED
up his courser as the two scouts he had sent out days ago pounded toward him on their palfreys down the pitiful excuse for a road he and his detachment traveled toward Glen Lairig. He shouted at the column of men not to stop as he pulled his horse out of the flow to await the scouts.
Information had been all but impossible to gain as they made their way across the rolling landscape and into the first of the mountains. Even those few Scots they had managed to capture alive during the nightly skirmishes had given not even a hint of how many MacAlpins there were, what their defenses were, or if they were indeed in Glen Lairig as King Edward thought. The first two scouts he’d sent to spy on the secretive clan had never
returned, and he could only assume they were dead, either by the hand of one of the clans that harried the detachment each night or by the MacAlpins themselves. At least these two had survived.
“What news?” he demanded as the two bedraggled men stopped beside him.
“We found the castle, m’lord,” the older of the two said, “but it has been abandoned.”
Sherwood blinked. “Abandoned?”
“Aye, and with good reason.”
The two scouts looked at each other, and the younger one swallowed, then took up the report.
“Abandoned. One whole side of the curtain wall, the north wall, has collapsed, though from its position at the top of a steep embankment that leads down to the lake we do not think it was caused by a siege engine, or even by battering rams. The embankment gives no room for such an attack.”
“So it just fell?” Lord Sherwood asked. This man needed to get to the point.
“That is the only explanation we could arrive at.”
“And the rest of the wall?”
“It stands and for all appearances seems sound. There is a small tower that stands unscathed, and outbuildings that will provide shelter for your soldiers.”
“But?”
“But the only other building—the great hall by the size of it—is nothing but a burned-out shell. There are no useful supplies left.”
“So these rats of the Highlands abandoned their ruined castle and took everything of use with them.” Lord Sherwood could feel a twitch in his left cheek just where his jaws met. “Where. Did. They. Go?” He let each word drop like stones between him and the scouts.
The two men looked at each other again, and the story once more passed to the older one.
“We could not find them, m’lord. There was at least one watcher, perched up in a tree not far from the castle, and there must have been more, for the moment he spied us he started to cry warning, so Bryn shot him to keep him quiet. We looked for others but found none.”
“So they have not gone far if they still post watchers on the castle,” Lord Sherwood said, thinking out loud.
“’Tis likely, but we found no trace of them in any numbers.”
Before Lord Sherwood could frame another question the younger one cleared his throat. Sherwood glared at him but nodded for him to speak.