The air smelled heavy and I knew another snowfall would begin before nightfall. The steely grey clouds hung low over the white landscape giving the fields and fens an eerie look. The white gate leading onto the main road slammed shut behind me and I took off at a trot up the slippery road. Picking my way carefully around the ice and slush. I knew I needed to hurry in order to make contact with the mysterious riders.
It had been weeks since I fell into the icy water of the hermits cave in order to avoid the blast of the munitions store. I only suffered minor cuts and burns and had healed quickly. Wriggling my shoulders I was ready for a fight. I needed to bang a few heads together in order to forget my present troubles.
Looking ahead I saw the red buildings of the distillery, Deoch-an-Dorus, in the distance, standing guard over the landscape. A quick scan of the road revealed the soldiers must have continued on to the castle. Had Magnus or Phil invited them? Was one of those men the reason Phil had refused me? Hurt pride drove my feet faster and I reached the first of the buildings.
“Captain!” A shout had me looking to the right where Kieran stood with a rake in his hand, white air puffing in front of his face.
I raised a hand to wave at the lad. I didn’t have time or breath to stop and speak with him. I needed to get up to the castle.
“Are ye going tae fight the soldiers Captain?” The question came from a bit closer and I looked down to see the boy had thrown down his rake and was keeping up with my brisk pace easily.
“I am merely going to enquire after their business.” I replied. It was better I curb the boys bloodthirsty thoughts before they got out of hand. After the death of his father on New Year’s, Kieran had fallen into dark and often violent thoughts.
“I’ll come with ye” Kieran adopted a hardened look in his eye. “Ye will need someone tae watch your back.”
Letting out a long sigh, “Kieran I told you, I am only going up there to ascertain these men’s business. There will be no fighting.” The lad had become a bit over protective of me since the events of the holiday. I felt my heart pounding in my throat and my stomach became queasy. Though my mouth felt dry and the words came out thickly, I asked the question I dreaded most, “Scots or English?”
“Scots” the boy said before another shout had my attention. Tavish the temporary distillery manager waved from ahead.
“Are ye going to question the soldiers?” He asked once I had reached him. Tavish's flyaway white hair stuck out from under his tartan hat.
“I want to find out what they are doing in Markinch, we don’t want any trouble here after recent events.” I said again firmly hoping Kieran was listening. “Do you recognise the tartans?”
Tavish stared me in the eye before he responded, “They wore tartan and dressed as highlander soldiers. They did nae stop here.”
As soon as the soldiers were confirmed as Scots, I picked up my pace, my legs carrying me ahead at a run and I heard Tavish’s warning shout behind me. “Ye can nae take ’em alone, Captain, they are trained soldiers, yer outnumbered!”
I could not explain to the old man, how duty, honour, those things kept hidden under the surface of my skin, pounded into me and lay asleep until I felt challenged to defend my country and my people, whether they wanted it or not.
Over the pounding in my ears, I could hear people shouting and following after me. I knew not if they remained my friends or my foes, to die this day would be a sweet relief after my recent rejection. I crested the hill and, through the open gates of the castle, I could see the soldiers’ horses waiting patiently for their masters. The servants standing in a huddle, some bemused, most afraid of the shouting leader of the group.
“You!” I shouted from under the portico where the great iron gate hung to keep enemies out of the castle. “What is your business here at Castle Markinch?” The question was enough to halt the servants talking and even the soldiers who remained outside of the keep turned to look at me.
The leader of the soldiers first turned his head, and after taking a look at my advancing profile urged his stallion around to face me. He wore a kilt and carried a claymore at his hip. I took in the positions of the soldiers in front of the servants. Reaching into my topcoat I pulled my tomahawks out and casually balanced them in a light grip. I could take the leader and maybe one of the others before a single shot rang out.
“Captain Clyde-Dalton, an honour of course,” the other man nodded in my direction. “This development does save us time.”
Frowning, “If you think killing me would be so easy, I suggest you give it a try.” I steadied my breath and waited for him to brandish his weapon and spur on his horse. I balanced on the balls of my feet, and shut out the castle, marking the soldiers I would need to kill.
“Who said anything about killing you?” He shook his head. “Colonel Manners never mentioned your penchant for the dramatic.”
“Colonel Manners?” I questioned back. “What do you know of him?”
He shrugged, “I am Sir Robert Munro and I have a message from the Colonel for you.” He reached slowly into an inner pocket of his red military coat and pulled out a letter. “I believe your commission in Markinch is at an end.” Sir Robert presented the letter in his left hand as he steered his horse in closer.
I was not going to take any chances with the leader. Replacing the tomahawk in my left hand I reached out and snatched the folded paper away from Sir Robert. He only shook his head again and looked bemused. I stepped back and found my path blocked by a body. Turning quickly in order to incapacitate the assailant I stopped in time to keep Kieran from serious injury.
Growling. “I thought I told you to stay down at the distillery.” I shoved the boy back a bit in order to get a safe distance from Sir Robert.
The boy shrugged in response. “Ye might need someone to watch your back.”
Checking the crest pressed into the melted wax the imprint appeared intact. I had never taken the time to learn the tricks used to tamper with seals. With one eye on the leader, who sat watching me from his perch. I flicked the red seal from the paper and unfolded it with one hand. A quick scan through the letter told me everything I needed to know.
Clyde-Dalton,
I have recalled you to Edinburgh. There are leads you need to follow regarding the smuggling ring you uncovered. I have sent Sir Robert to arrest Magnus Clunes and his daughter Philomena Clunes on charges of treason. The Pretender is coming.
C.M.
The blood drained from my face and I looked up at Sir Robert who was studying my reaction intently.
“Do you carry the warrants?” My voice was hoarse with emotion. He nodded and my heart sunk into my stomach. Phil may have rejected me, but I did not want to see her in chains. “Is there proof?”
“Enough for Manners to send the prison cart,” he motioned to the carriage I had seen earlier trundling up the road. The metal bars extended from the ceiling to the floor, there were no proper walls, no respite from the elements. “And not the one which might have hidden their identities.”
I never had any doubt of Phil or Magnus’s innocence in Beathan’s crimes. When I informed them of the extent of the smuggling operation, Phil and Magnus’s shock had been genuine.
“They are innocent.” I stated, needing to get my opinion out into the world.
Sir Robert shrugged and looked towards the front door of the castle where two soldiers escorted Phil and her father Magnus. My heat skipped as I watched Phil come to the aid of her father, helping him down the stairs. Even from this distance I could easily discern the quiet panic on Phil’s face. She looked up at the bottom of the stairs and our eyes locked for an instant.
My heart urged me to walk across the crowded courtyard and comfort the woman I could not stop loving. Instead I broke eye contact with her and spoke with Sir Robert. “Where are you taking them?”
“To Edinburgh, they will be questioned by a senior member of the army for any further intelligence.” Sir Robert looked at me straight in the eye. �
�I know you believe you have formed a friendship with these people Captain Clyde-Dalton, however the evidence is undeniable.”
The tone in his voice made me believe his words. He looked as if he had seen as many days in battle as myself, and yet I knew he was wrong.
“If you are going to accompany us back to Edinburgh I suggest you find a mount.” Sir Robert stated as he watched the two soldiers guide their prisoners to the open carriage.
“Manners told you of the contents of his letter?” I narrowed my eyes at Sir Robert. What else did he know? Manners usually operated his men in cells, the better to keep his secrets.
Shrugging his shoulders, “I was told you would also be making the journey.”
Again, there was something in the way he worded his sentences, which made me wonder what he might be hiding.
Phil shook from the crown of her head down to her delicate ankles. She lifted her head high and looked over the crowd, mustering her pride, before gathering up her skirts and ascending the small ladder. She reached down to aid Magnus as the soldiers looked on.
There were no chairs or blankets inside the carriage and I knew they would freeze before long. The damp straw would hardly keep them warm on the long journey.
“They should have blankets at the very least,” I told Sir Robert. In response to his questioning look, “the old man is ill and frail. He took the death of his son very poorly and has not enjoyed good health. If he is to be questioned in Edinburgh, he needs a blanket at the very least.”
Sir Robert searched my face for a full minute before he shouted to one of his men to find two blankets for the prisoners. I felt uneasy under his stare even though I had nothing to hide. I was only being a decent Christian.
I watched as Phil gratefully accepted the blankets through the bars from one of the castle servants. The doors on the back of the carriage shut tight with a bang and Magnus’s shoulders slumped.
“We will feed and water the horses before we leave,” Sir Robert commented over his shoulder before he raised his voice above the growing din. “Mr Magnus Clunes and Miss Philomena Clunes you have been remanded in custody in order to face charges of conspiracy against the Crown, conspiracy to murder and conspiracy to defraud the English Government. Any attempt to free them will be seen as evidence of their guilt and the perpetrators will also hang.”
The charges rang out over the heads of the gathered villagers in Markinch. Most of them wore expressions of shock and sympathy. They called out to Phil and Magnus to be strong. Some of the villagers looked at me with hostility, others with pleading in their eyes.
All I knew as I turned away from Phil’s frightened face was I needed to clear their names, if for nothing else, because I love her.
Pretender at the Gate Page 2
