The street was dark except for the two houses at the end of the road—one of which Alick and Branwen had been assigned to observe. They took a wide berth around the house and snuck around the back, carefully checking the area before hiding in a cluster of bushes a short distance behind the two-story manor.
Alick held a finger to her lips, then grinned and kissed her quickly. They both knelt in a dry spot out of sight, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. Hellfire, but he loved having her this close to him. She took his hand as they shifted their attention on the manor. They heard nothing, but someone was clearly home. The house was brightly lit.
After they’d waited several minutes in silence, the sound of a door banging shut made Alick flinch. Voices carried to them, one rather angry. “Why did the king leave?” The speaker was an Englishman.
“Because he doesn’t know how to lead. He’s not at all like his sire. He tried and failed, so now he’s going to run simply because he’d prefer to be with his friends,” another English voice said. He didn’t recognize either of the voices, but something about the intonation struck Alick as odd. Still, he knew nothing of the new king.
“So what do we do with the woman?”
Alick held his breath because he knew they had to be speaking of his mother.
It had to be her. Where the hell were they holding her?
Silence followed, but the sounds of boots clicking on a stone floor carried to them.
“Forget Glasgow. We no longer have the upper hand here. We’d do best to follow Bruce north. He plans to force submission from the Scottish lairds who don’t support him. He has Scottish enemies, too.”
“Who?”
“Macdowell of Galloway, Macdougall of Lorn, Ross, mayhap Argyll. We head north to where she’s held, send a messenger to the Grants saying we’ll only make the exchange if they agree to support Macdougall. That’s where I suspect the biggest battle will be so we need assistance. We tell Grant he forces his thousand warriors to protect Macdougall and bring the Bruce to us, then they’ll get Grant’s daughter back. Once all is done, we’ll kill Grant and bring him to King Edward.”
“For our coin.”
“Aye, for our coin. He’ll pay us handsomely.”
“Then we head north on the morrow. First light. We need to make the exchange.”
The other chuckled. “One Grant for another.”
Chapter Eighteen
Branwen couldn’t stop chewing on her bottom lip. They’d left soon after the men went their separate ways. There’d been no more mention of where Alick’s mother was hidden. They only knew she was to the north. She knew Alick had wished to charge in and shake answers from them—never mind that there were two of them—but he’d glanced at her and held back.
They met up with the rest of their group at the same crossroads in Glasgow, keeping silent at Joya’s direction—she told them in a whisper they’d do best not to share their findings until they were all together—then headed back to the outskirts of town to convene with the larger group in the clearing big enough to hold all of them.
Although Branwen was grateful to be with Alick, she hated seeing him in such pain. He was usually so sure of himself, but the situation with his mother had completely shaken him. She could see it in every movement he made.
“Did you learn anything?” Alick’s sire asked.
“Nay,” Maggie said. “No one at the house we checked. Els? Joya?”
Joya shook her head. “I snuck in through the back door, and there were still hot embers in the hearth. Someone was there, but it was empty.”
“We found two of them, but they left too quickly on horseback for us to follow,” Alick said solemnly. “Mama’s not here. They said they’re leaving Glasgow to go north because Bruce is headed that way and ’tis also where their captive is being held.”
“Without the new king?” Maggie asked.
Alick said, “It sounds as if you were right about him. He headed home with all his men.”
“How many are with this group?” Els asked. “And how do you know the captive they spoke of is your mother?”
“Because they spoke of trading a Grant. I only heard two voices and there were only two horses, but I have no idea if there are any others. They spoke about a lot of coin. They expect to be paid handsomely for delivering Grandsire to their king,” Alick said, now pacing in the middle of the group, kicking at the dirt in frustration.
“But they gave no indication of where she’s being held?” Jamie asked. “How far away? Think hard, Alick.”
“Naught. I heard nothing else.” Then he turned around to look at Branwen, as if seeking her support as much as her advice and took her hand. “Do you recall anything else?”
She shook her head because she didn’t. But something else weighed on her—a memory tickling at her mind, refusing to rise to the surface. She forced herself to go over everything that had happened in the last few days to help it along.
It struck her like a slap, and her gaze darted around the group of Grants. They were fine-looking people, but most of them were fair. Els and Jamie were blond. Alick and Finlay red-haired. Kyla was Alex Grant’s daughter, but his hair was mostly gray. Jamie, blond. Dyna, white-blonde. But then she thought of Alasdair. His hair was as black as the night in a thunderstorm.
She pulled on Alick’s hand and whispered, “What color hair does your mother have?”
Alick spun around, and all eyes followed him. “So dark ’tis nearly black. Why?”
Branwen gasped, her eyes wide. “I think I know where your mother is.”
***
“Where?” Alick’s father bellowed, striding over to stand in front of Branwen.
Alick saw the fear in his wife’s gaze and pushed his sire to the side. “Don’t yell at her. She’s had enough trials of her own the last few days.”
His father stepped back and sheepishly apologized. “Take your time and think,” he said.
Alick took her hand. “Tell us what you know, sweetling.”
Branwen played with her plait, then said, “I’m sorry, but I forgot until just now. When I was in the dungeon, they carried in a person who had long dark hair. I assumed ’twas a man, but mayhap I was wrong. It was dark when they carried the person into the cell, and I couldn’t see a face. But now that we know she’s in the north, it seems ’tis possible. Do you not agree? I heard them say they gave the person a potion to make them sleep until the morn. I should have put it together sooner, but you have red hair, and Els and Jamie have yellow hair. And Dyna’s hair is nearly white.”
“Did you hear a name?” Da asked, his voice beseeching now.
“Nay, nothing. And I left before she awakened. They put her in a place far away from me.”
“I don’t wish to discourage you,” Will said, looking between Alick and Finlay, “but it could be anyone.”
“Which castle?” Maggie asked.
“Thane Castle. My uncle William is the Earl of Thane.”
Jamie muttered, “And Thane is not a supporter of Bruce. It fits.”
Grandsire climbed down from his horse and moved over to stand in front of Branwen. Alick edged a bit closer to her. His grandsire, though he’d probably shrunk a wee bit, was still a large man, and he towered over her. Although Branwen probably understood the Grants wouldn’t hurt her, he wanted her to know he supported her. That she needn’t worry with him by her side.
“Now, think before you answer,” Grandsire said. “Would you have recognized the voice of those men in the manor if they were in your uncle’s guard? Would you know the voices of the head of your uncle’s guard or his strongest warriors? His steward? Those would be the people most likely to be able to hide a captive in your dungeon.”
“I didn’t recognize any voices.”
Jamie asked, “Does your clan often put women in the dungeon? Is it a punishment they assign at your judgment day?”
She squared her shoulders and said, “I didn’t think the cells were in use at all. They never mention it
at judgment day. My uncle usually assigns lashings or extra work for restitution. My sire was the one who put me there. I ran away after he attempted to marry me to an old man not of my choosing.”
“Did you notice anything else about her?” Alick asked gently. “What she was wearing? Her shoes? Anything?”
She shook her head. “Just her hair.”
Alick took both of her hands in his and asked, “If I go with you, can you lead me to that cell?”
She nodded. “Of course. They put the other prisoner in the last one, if I recall. And if I ask the stablemaster, he’ll know if anyone is there. He knows everything.”
Alick turned around to face the group. “Then we head that way, and Branwen and I will go inside the dungeon.”
Several of the others nodded, including Uncle Jamie and Els.
“I’ll agree with that plan,” Da said. “But I’m going too.”
His grandfather shook his head.
“What’s wrong, Grandsire?”
“Oh, I agree that a small group of us must go to Thane Castle, but you’re not going inside with Branwen. Assuming the stablemaster is willing to help, she’ll go with him and Dyna.”
“What?” Alick sputtered in disbelief. “She’s my mother.”
Da put his hands on his hips. “She’s my wife.”
Grandsire said, “Nay to both of you. You’ll compromise the whole situation because you’re too emotional.”
“Too emotional,” Da barked. “I can control my emotions.”
“And if your wife has been beaten?” Grandsire asked, looking from Da to Alick.
Fury pumped through him, so fast and furious he had to calm himself to reconsider his grandfather’s advice. It was the same fury he’d felt when he’d seen Branwen’s sire try to strike her. As usual, Grandsire was explaining his answer calmly, unruffled by the seriousness of their venture and its possible repercussions.
How Alick wished he could control his emotions the way his grandfather did.
The wizened warrior’s voice turned into a soothing baritone. “Have you forgotten the first time so quickly, Finlay? I would have thought it would stick in your mind forever.” Grandsire looked at Cailean, Sorcha, Branwen, and a few others. “Finlay carried Kyla to me after she’d been nearly beaten to death. The men who did it almost killed him for protecting her.” He turned back to his daughter’s husband. “Even your hands shook as you held her. Can you promise me you’ll not do the same? You’re not the strong young warrior you were back then, and your son’s emotions will overpower him. Alick is a fine Grant warrior, but I never expect the impossible. Nor do I want anything to get in the way of my daughter’s safety—even the love you bear for her.”
A horrible look of grief crossed Da’s face. He left them, making his way to a nearby boulder, and sat down. The tears misting his eyes did not escape Alick’s notice.
“Alex is right,” Maggie said softly, her tone firm. “You two are too close. Branwen, the stablemaster, and Dyna should go in.”
“Why Dyna?” Els asked. “We can go in.” He had his arm wrapped around his wife, Joya.
Grandsire said, “Because Dyna found Branwen and got her out. She obviously knows how to get in and out of that cellar undetected.”
Maggie said, “Agreed.”
The others were a bit disgruntled, but Alick had to admit the plan made sense. Dyna was a talented lass and he trusted Jep completely.
He had to pray his mother was still there and unhurt.
Chapter Nineteen
Branwen had a sick feeling in her belly that wouldn’t go away. What did her uncle have to do with the kidnapping of Kyla Grant? How she prayed they would find her unhurt. She knew the grief of losing a mother, and she didn’t want that for Alick. She also feared her clan’s involvement in the kidnapping might come between them.
She could only pray her father and uncle had no knowledge of the scheme.
And that Kyla Grant was hale and unharmed.
The Grants had made the decision to leave for her land promptly. Some had wanted to wait until the next day, but Alick and Finlay had refused, saying they’d go on alone if they had to.
Alex had agreed with them. “The next time I sleep,” he said, “I hope to know where my daughter is, if you don’t mind.”
Alick fisted his hands at his sides. “Since we know my mother is there, why are we not taking five hundred of our men, storming the place, and killing the bastards who stole her away? ’Tis only right to seek vengeance and not just get her back. I want justice! For my wife and for my mother.”
“And are you so certain the prisoner is your mother, Alick?” the older man crossed his arms and waited for the reasoning of a seasoned warrior to settle in.
“Alick,” Branwen whispered, tears misting in her eyes, “he’s right. I’m not sure ’tis your mother. What if I’m wrong?”
Alick met her gaze, his eyes tortured with a pain she wished to soothe, and reached for her hand and squeezed it.
Alex added, “Or what if they’ve moved her? What if she is now standing bound on a rock with a rope around her neck? A rock they’ll kick out from under her the moment we attack?”
Alick’s hand tightened further around hers, his eyes wide as he stared at his grandfather. “Grandsire? Truly? ’Tis possible?”
“Unlikely, lad,” his voice replied, his tone softer now. “But you never attack until you know what you are up against.”
“But you did it for Claray and Aunt Sela,” he whispered. “Why not for Mama?”
Alex bowed his head. “’Struth. I didn’t know what we were up against that day, but I allowed my wife’s concern for a wee bairn to determine our strategy. I don’t regret it. Even so, those bastards touched your grandmother, and Aunt Sela’s life was endangered. I swore never again to go in without sound knowledge of my enemy.”
Alick’s furrowed brow told Branwen how he struggled with this information. He glanced at Branwen and said, “But are you not sure it could be my mother?”
“Alick, I don’t know what to say. It could be. But I saw so little I didn’t even know if it was a man or a woman. I cannot be sure.” She swiped at the tears that she couldn’t stop, tears from watching the pain in her husband’s heart.
“Will you go along with my suggestion, lad? All I wish to find out is if she is there. If Dyna and Branwen cannot get her out, I’ll bring in as many warriors as we need to retrieve her. First we have to know—where, how many guards, what we’re facing.”
“All right,” he whispered.
His father came up behind him and clasped both of his shoulders. “You are to give Grandsire your word you won’t do something foolish, Alick. And me. I want my wife back, too. Your mother is a special person to everyone.”
“Aye, you have my word.”
And so they sent many of the guards closer to home, only taking a handful with them. Grandsire had arranged for Jamie to command the guards and to have them at the ready in two different places. They would set up shifts for sleeping to ensure the warriors were fresh for the fighting.
She hoped they could sleep because she surely could not.
They rode in haste and stopped about two hours outside of Thane Castle, having decided it was best to wait until nightfall to make their move. Branwen stood on the edge of the clearing, looking over the ones who’d come along. Els and Joya, Alick, Alex, Finlay, and Dyna. Jamie was with the guards. Alasdair had headed back to MacLintock land with Lora. Will and Maggie had decided to continue their patrol in Glasgow in case Kyla was there. With the activity going on at Thane Castle, they guessed there would be many more men in the area, looking for extra coin and chances to do battle.
Branwen stared up at the sky, trying her best to navigate exactly where they were. Two hours to Thane Castle meant two hours in the opposite direction to Grant Castle, if she were to guess. MacLintock Castle was half a day’s ride from where they were. How she wished she knew the rest of the Highlands the way she knew Thane land.
Alick stood talking with his sire and his grandsire, his broad shoulders making her wish to sigh. The wind and the occasional misting had made his dark red hair curly and even a bit wild, making him look even more braw. He was exactly the kind of man any lass wished to have protecting her. How had she found such a wonderful man? Alick was kind and handsome and respectful and funny and…
“You look as though you could devour your husband. You are quite besotted.”
The voice was Dyna’s, not that Branwen was surprised. Alick had told her his cousin knew things she could not. “Aye,” she said, bringing her gaze up to Dyna’s. “I’ll admit the few hours we had together last eve were not enough for me. I look forward to this being over. To meeting his mother, and so many others I’ve heard so much about. To spending more time with Chrissa and his brothers.”
“Your time together with your husband will come soon,” Dyna said. “What else can you tell me about the castle and the dungeon?”
“I’ll think on it. But you saw most of what you need to know. I only trust two people there fully. Jep, the stablemaster, and one housemaid, Fia.”
“Have faith. As soon as we get Kyla out, we can head back to MacLintock Castle. Grant land can wait. There are enough of us to arrange a small celebration for you.”
She couldn’t help but sigh. “’Struth is I’m happy just to be married to Alick. We don’t need a celebration. Time together is all we need, and I know ’twill come. I just hope we can get in and out safely.”
“You don’t have to go. I think I can find my way.”
“I know. But if anything happens, I’ll be able to find a different path more easily than you could. And Jep won’t follow you. If we wish for his assistance, you’ll have to take me.”
Dyna sat on a nearby log. “I hate waiting. I’m ready to leave now, but I know ’twill be easier to sneak in after dark. Tell me again about the back curtain wall, please?”
Branwen described it to the best of her ability, going over the doorways and what they’d have to be watchful of behind the keep. “The kitchens are often busy late at night. It depends on how late the guards are out. They’re in a separate building behind the keep.”
The Scot's Pursuit (Highland Swords Book 3) Page 15
