by Fiona Faris
“I want Malcolm Murray’s head on a pike!” Rory’s fury continued to grow the longer he stood and looked upon Angus’s corpse. Angus had been with his father for as long as Ross could remember. There would be no peace in the castle until Malcolm Murray was lying before him dead. Rory’s anger grew to such a fervor that Ross was not entirely sure he would not run one of his own men through as a temporary substitute for Malcolm’s body.
Ross motioned for the men standing nearest the body to pick it up and move it out of his father’s sight. He ordered another group to go and dig a grave. They immediately obeyed and Ross returned to the kitchen to find the cook. He had kept her under constant guard since the day they had taken the castle. He found her and her two young lassies cowering in the corner. “The laird is goin’ tae need a hearty breakfast this mornin’. For yer own sake I recommend ye provide yer verra best. He will nae be in the mood for anythin’ less.”
The cook nodded her head nervously and ushered the girls forward to do as bid. Her hands shook in fear as she stirred the pot of partrich over the fire. She stirred in raisins, apples, and cinnamon. Ross wondered if that was her normal way or if it was her way of heeding his warning. He feared she would need a sight more than a handful of raisins to please his father today. Leaving the kitchen, he went to finish dressing. If Angus could find Malcolm and his family, then so could Ross.
When Ross went down to break the fast, he found his father already drinking and well on his way to a roaring drunk. “Ross!” he bellowed from his place at the head table. “Come join me in a toast tae Angus.”
Ross moved around the table and accepted the dram of whisky his father offered. He downed it in one gulp. The fiery liquid hit his empty stomach hard warming him from his inside out. He sat down and shoveled food into his mouth as quickly as he could. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. He did not want any evidence of Angus’ tracks to disappear before he had a chance to follow. When he was done, he turned to his father. “I will be goin’ out after Malcolm this mornin’ and I will nae return until I have found him.”
“I’ll go with ye,” Rory answered, attempting to stagger to his feet. He stumbled and fell back into his chair. “The morrow… I’ll go with ye on the morrow.”
“Aye,” Ross agreed, with no intention of waiting for his father to sober. He needed to get to Alana before anyone else did. If Angus could find them, then anyone could, and that was dangerous.
Standing up from the table, Ross left his father to mourn his friend, mounted his horse, and head off into the mountains where he had last seen Angus ride off. It would not be easy to distinguish Angus’ tracks from the others who had went off looking to claim his father’s reward. His own tracks were sure to be among them. Ross rode further into the forest hoping to find a single track to follow, but instead lost the trail altogether. There had not been a hard rain so he hoped to pick it back up again further along. He kept going searching the ground for any sign of disturbance. About half way up the slope, he stopped to relieve himself. Once he had tended to his needs, he sat down on a fallen tree trunk to reevaluate his plan. As he sat, he noticed an odd black shape on the ground in front of him. He leaned forward and picked it up turning it over in his hand. It was the burnt remains of a human finger, Angus’ finger. I’m on the right path!
Ross surveyed the ground around him closely searching for signs that a horse had passed through the area. He moved leaves about to get a better look at the dirt beneath. A little way up the slope he found what he was looking for, hoof prints, deep ones, as if the pony had been carrying more than one rider. Malcolm bringin’ Angus’s body back tae the castle. Ross mounted his horse and continued on following the direction of the prints. As he climbed the slope, the ground became rockier and he lost sight of the trail once more. As he sat atop his horse surveying the landscape, he spotted a rock outcropping that resembled the shape of a chair. Darkness was beginning to fall and he needed a safe place to rest for the night, so he moved to set up camp against the rock face. He went without a fire so as not to bring attention to his presence.
As he sat with his back against the stone, wrapped in his tartan, he listened to the sounds around him. The night was still and he reveled in the solitude of it. He loved the forest. He and Alana had spent hours roaming the slopes together as children spending every moment they could away from their father’s fortress. It was here that he felt most at home. His thoughts were interrupted when his horse stirred restlessly, nickering and snorting. Ross sniffed the air and found the tang of smoke wafting on the evening breeze. He was unaware of any crofts in the area and wondered where it was coming from. Standing up, he moved in each direction to see where the smoke was strongest. The breeze wafted over the slope of the mountain in such a way that he could not tell from whence the smoke originated.
He followed the stone cliff around the bend until he came to an opening in the rock face. He walked through it and found a ravine with a stream running through it. He moved forward to get a drink from the stream and was brought up short by the blade of a knife against his throat. “Ye should ne’er have come here,” Malcolm Murray’s voice cut through the night.
* * *
The Cairngorm Mountains, Scotland
When Malcolm walked into the croft with Ross at the end of his blade, Alana’s legs nearly buckled out from under her. She could not believe the sight before her eyes. “Ross!”
Malcolm motioned for Ross to take a seat on the floor and used some rope to tie him up he had found on the horse Rory’s assassin had left behind when he died. “Ye are a dead man,” Ross seethed to Malcolm.
“Nae before ye,” Malcolm threatened in reply.
“Please, dinnae hurt him,” Alana begged before she could stop the words from leaving her mouth. She knew her brother had played a role in what befell Malcolm’s family, but she could not bear the idea of his death.
Malcolm looked up at her with anger in his eyes. “He deserves much worse than what I would do to him.”
“He is like me, Malcolm. He was lied tae by our faither. He does nae ken any different. He does nae ken the truth,” Alana pleaded for him to understand.
Malcolm sighed in frustration. “I have questions for him tae answer.”
“He will. Let me speak with him. Give me time tae make him understand,” Alana requested. “Please there is nae need tae hurt him when I can make him tae see reason.”
“I dinnae have time tae wait for him tae see reason. I need answers now. For all we ken there could be others out there waitin’ tae attack,” Malcolm informed her.
They both turned to look at Ross in inquiry. Alana moved forward and knelt down beside him. “Why have ye come, Ross? Faither has the castle. There is nae need for anyone else tae die. Does anyone else ken that we are here?”
“I came lookin’ for ye. Faither has put a price on yer head as well as his,” Ross motioned with his chin toward Malcolm with disdain. “When ye sent Angus back tae the castle as ye did, I kenned well enough that if he could find ye, then others would tae. I will see Malcolm Murray’s head on pike, but I will nae let them hurt ye nae matter how much ye have betrayed yer family.”
“I did nae betray ye. I simply learned the truth. Faither lied. Andrew Murray was nae the man Faither claimed he was,” Alana informed him.
“Was?” Ross asked his brow raised in question.
“My faither is dead. He died after fleein’ yer attack on our home,” Malcolm answered, stepping forward menacingly.
“I did nae ken. Faither will be pleased,” Ross remarked.
“Ross,” Alana warned, afraid that her brother would push Malcolm over the edge.
“Where is Maither and the lassies?” Malcolm asked. “I dinnae wish for them tae see what I am about tae do.”
“They are in the next room asleep. Yer sisters, includin’ Mary and the bairn moved in there tae be with yer maither. She has nae been doin’ well since yer faither’s passin’. She asked why ye had nae been in tae see her. I told her y
e were greivin’ and needed time,” Alana answered. “Please dinnae hurt him. He’s my brother. He is the only family I have left.”
“Yer family has taken everythin’ from mine and I will have my answers even if I have tae beat them out o’ him,” Malcolm promised. “My family’s life depends on it.”
Alana knew he was right, but she could not stand the idea of her brother being tortured. “Give me a moment with him. Just one moment.”
“Ye have one moment. That is all,” Malcolm conceded. “I will go and join Bruce in makin’ sure there are nae more o’ Rory’s men waitin’ tae pounce on us from the shadows. He should nae give ye any troubles bein’ bound as he is. I will return soon.” Malcolm turned and left the croft.
Alana knelt on the floor next to Ross and studied his face. They sat in silence for a time just looking at each other. Their time of separation had been filled with such worry and strain that they needed time to just be in the same room together once more. They had not been apart since before their birth and it had taken its toll on each of them. In a world of hate and fear created by their father, all they had had after their grandmother died was each other. “I missed ye,” she admitted.
“And I ye,” Ross answered. “I feared the worst when I could nae find ye.”
Knowing their time would soon run out, Alana spoke attempting to bring him to the truth. “It was all a lie, Ross. Everythin’ Faither told us was a lie. Please answer all o’ Malcolm’s questions when he returns. Please dinnae make him hurt ye in front o’ my eyes.”
“I will nae be given that cuddie a thing. Ye betrayed us all when ye chose him ore yer own family. It does nae matter whether Faither lied or nae. He is our faither. Our loyalty is tae him and only him. Ye have forgotten who ye are, sister.”
“How can ye be loyal tae a cause that is wrong? Tae a man that would rather see his own daughter dead than forgive a slight o’ any kind?” Alana asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Family is family,” Ross answered. “I will see ye safely away and then I will lay Malcolm Murray’s head at our faither’s feet just as I promised.”
“Ross ye cannae,” Alana sobbed. “Ye will die in the tryin’.”
“It will be Malcolm who will die, nae I,” Ross asserted. “Nae matter what ye say, it will nae change my mind.”
“Ross, please,” she begged.
A noise from behind alerted them to another’s presence. Malcolm stepped through the door into the fire’s light. Shadows danced across his face making it appear as if it belonged to another world entirely. A shiver of fear for her brother raced down Alana’s spine. Malcolm moved next to Ross and stared down into his face with deadly intent. “Now it is my turn.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Cairngorm Mountains, Scotland
Word of Malcolm’s gift to Rory spread throughout the clan. Men who before had been too afraid to fight back began to reconsider. After interrogating Ross, Malcolm had immediately left for the village. He had not learned much and his relationship with Alana had been affected by the presence of her brother in their lives. As guilty as she felt about her family’s actions, she simply could not countenance seeing her brother harmed in any way. Ross was strong, he would give him that. He had failed to extract anything of value, but when Malcolm informed David that he had taken Rory’s son, Ross, prisoner, it was enough to push the remaining men over to his side. They made a plan to attack upon the morrow.
When Malcolm returned to the croft, he took Alana aside and told her of the plan. They went in together and spoke with his mother and sisters. It was the first time he had spoken with his mother since Andrew’s passing. She looked as though she had not slept since they had buried him. The grief he knew he would find shined from her eyes piercing his very soul. The sooner he returned them home to Blair Castle, the better. Living in hiding was taking its toll on them all.
“Ye will attack on the morrow?” Freya asked quietly.
“Aye,” Malcolm nodded, taking her hand in his. “If all goes well, ye will be back home afore tae much longer.”
“As long as ye come back alive,” Freya answered. “That is all that matters.”
Malcolm nodded his head and rose to leave. There was nothing he could do about taking his mother’s pain away, but he could take her home and he would do that if was the last thing he ever did. Alana followed him out of the room. Ross had dozed off in the corner. After the stable had burned down, Malcolm had slept outside near the mouth of the ravine while Alana had moved into the croft. She now led him over to the bed and pulled him down beside her. They had not had a chance to talk since his interrogation of her brother and Malcolm knew she was upset with him, but all of that faded under the threat of the battle to come.
Malcolm pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. They lay there in silence for a moment before Malcolm spoke. “I was nae able tae find out if others ken where we are. Ye will have tae move the family to a safer hiding place on the morrow. We cannae take the risk of someone else findin’ ye while I am gone. If yer faither’s man and yer brother can find us, then there will be more. If I dinnae win the battle and I dinnae return, I want ye tae take the family and flee the highlands. Dinnae look back and dinnae return.”
“Ye are nae goin’ tae die. Ye are goin’ tae take back yer home and live to be an auld man teachin’ his grandchildren how tae fight with wooden swords,” Alana argued.
“I pray ye are right, but if the worst should happen and I dinnae return, ye must promise me ye will leave,” Malcolm insisted.
“Ye are nae goin’ tae die and I will nae leave ye, Malcolm Murray.” Alana’s voice took on a determined edge.
“Alana, promise me,” he whispered, squeezing her tight against him as if he could absorb her into himself and carry her with him always. “For the sake o’ my family. Promise me.”
“I promise,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Dinnae tell me where ye will go. If I lose I dinnae wish tae be a threat ye. I would ne’er reveal ye tae yer faither willingly, but a man is capable o’ sayin’ anythin’ with the right motivation. I have heard the tales o’ what yer faither does tae get information. I would hope I would be a strong enough man tae take it tae my grave, but ‘tis better tae be safe. If I win, I will find ye again. I swear it.” Alana clung to his chest and sobbed for some time before, exhausted, she drifted off to sleep.
Ross’ voice spoke from the corner of the room. “I will nae let anythin’ happen tae her. Ye will nae win the day, but I will see that she gets away from here.”
“There is nae much ye can do bound as ye are,” Malcolm pointed out.
“I will nae always be bound,” Ross threatened.
“I ken well enough that yer sister will release ye were I tae lose. Her heart is tae soft where ye are concerned, but ye are a fool if ye think I would trust her or my family tae yer care, nae after ye have threatened our deaths,” Malcolm retorted. “How do ye ken that I will leave ye alive when I go?”
“I promised tae kill ye. I ne’er said anythin’ about yer family. I am nae my faither. I dinnae murder lassies nae matter who they may belong tae.” Ross glared at him from across the room. “Alana is my sister. I have loved her far longer than ye kenned she breathed on this earth. I have been protectin’ her from our faither’s wrath since the day we were born and I will continue tae do so ‘till the day o’ his death. ‘Tis yer fault that she is in danger now, nae mine.”
Malcolm sat and studied Ross for a moment. “Aye, I ken it. She told me o’ yer life atop the mountain. I dinnae envy ye it tae be sure.”
“It made us strong,” Ross shrugged it off. “Strong enough tae lay waste tae ye and yers.”
“Aye, I have nae forgotten what ye took or that ye owe me a life for those ye laid waste tae,” Malcolm threatened.
“Ye may take my life, but it will nae change what has happened. It will, however, change how she feels about ye and the life she will have once ye are gone. I can ta
ke care o’ her. What can ye offer her from the grave?” Ross pointed out. “As her brother, I can protect her. Ye are naught, but the man who took her virtue. I told her once that if ye touched her, I would kill ye. I mean tae keep that promise.”
Malcolm’s body tensed with anger at Ross’ words. There was more to what lay between he and Alana than that. He had the urge to arise from the bed and beat the man senseless, but he would not do that to Alana. In fact, he was not sure what he was going to do with Ross if he won the battle and took back the castle. If he killed him, he would lose Alana forever. If he didn’t, he would be providing the opportunity for his own demise. “Ye’ll protect them? Ye swear it on the head o’ yer dead maither?”
“Aye, I swear it,” Ross answered.
Malcolm nodded his head. “Then ye may live tae see another day, but should ye break yer word or cause her trouble o’ any kind, I will take my revenge without hesitation, the consequences be damned.”
