Highland Spy: Highland Chronicles Series - Book 4

by Rose, Elizabeth

  “The last man in the competition to fight against Angus will be Caleb MacKeefe,” announced the herald.

  Caleb passed by Clement on his way out to the field.

  “It looks like ye were wrong about me, MacKeefe,” spat Clement. “Because I seem to have been sabotaged as well.”

  Caleb knew damned well that it was no sabotage. He saw Clement nod at him before he let go of his sword. Had he really thrown the competition, just to prove his innocence? Or had he done it to cover his tracks instead? What was going on here?

  “Somehow, I’m no’ sure I believe that ye were sabotaged,” said Caleb.

  “Perhaps ye’re the one sabotagin’ the others,” Clement told him. “After all, nothin’ has happened to ye yet, so it does look suspicious.”

  “Ye lie,” spat Caleb through gritted teeth.

  “Either way, ye’re about to win this competition and we both ken it. All that talk about winnin’ fairly and by bein’ honest is a bunch of crap.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means ye dinna belong in this contest because ye are no’ a laird. If ye win, it means nothin’ other than ye are collectin’ on someone else’s misfortune and that ye will make all the other lairds look weak in front of their clans, just like ye accused me of doin’.”

  “Nay, it doesna.”

  “Do ye really believe that, MacKeefe? I canna see yer chieftain, Storm, agreein’ to let ye wear the crown and keep the title, let alone give ye land and money that never should have been yers. But go on. Win the contest and get mentioned in the Highland Chronicles, because isna that what ye want? Word has it that everythin’ written about ye in that book is already a lie. Why should one more lie really matter?”

  “Caleb MacKeefe, advance to the field now,” called out the herald.

  Caleb walked out to the center of the field, suddenly feeling like a cheat, a liar, a loser, and, most of all, a failure in front of his clan and also the woman he loved. Taking his position, he glanced over to the dais where the king clapped and shouted out his name, calling him his champion. It didn’t feel so good anymore. He looked for Bridget, hoping to gain strength from her smile, but she wasn’t up at the dais. That bothered him. Where was she? Even her father wasn’t there.

  Caleb’s sword blocked Angus’ first blow and they sparred with each other as more thoughts crowded Caleb’s head. Sure, he was competing as his laird’s proxy by request of the king. But like Clement said, was it really fair since he wasn’t a laird? Caleb had hoped to use the money and land to make a home with Bridget as his bride. He loved Bridget with all his heart and would do anything to keep her safe and happy. Then he thought of his father saying that a man’s legacy was carried on through his children and that he would never have that with Bridget. Family was important to Caleb. He’d always wanted lots of children of his own since he had many siblings. Would he regret having married a barren woman someday?

  “What’s the matter, MacKeefe? Gettin’ tired?” asked Angus.

  Aye, Caleb was tired, but not in the way Angus thought. He was tired of always second-guessing himself, trying to prove himself since he was smaller than most of the men in his clan. He was also tired of doing what everyone else thought he should do. He didn’t really care about winning this competition, he finally realized. Even if Bridget couldn’t give him children, or even if he didn’t have land and money or ever have his name mentioned in the Highland Chronicles, why did he even care? Clement was right. Caleb was being no better than him, or at least no better than the man who had been sabotaging the other contestants. Well, he was going to change his life, and it was starting right here, right now.

  Caleb threw down his sword and raised his hands in the air, causing the crowd to cry out in surprise. Angus shouted in glee and lifted his sword high above his head.

  “What are ye doin’, Caleb?” shouted Storm from the dais.

  “I canna believe it. He just threw down his sword,” said someone else from the crowd.

  “The winner of the sword fight event is Angus MacKenzie,” called out the announcer. “And now we will add up all the competitors’ points from the entire competition, and announce the winner of the Leader of the Lairds.”

  Caleb picked up his sword and walked back to the rail to see the confused faces of his friends.

  “What the hell did ye just do?” asked Hawke in shock and confusion. “My faither is goin’ to kill ye.”

  “I lost the sword fight. So, what?” Caleb shrugged his shoulders.

  “Lost, aye. But we saw ye give up and throw down yer sword when ye were sure to win,” said Logan.

  “Well, it’s over,” answered Caleb. “I’m sure when they add up the points, we’ll find out that Clement won, and that is fine with me. He is a laird and I’m no’.”

  “Is that what this is all about?” asked Ethan. “Ye feel as if ye dinna deserve to win because ye are no’ a laird?”

  “Well, I’m no’,” Caleb pointed out the obvious.

  “Bid the devil, ye fool. Ye just let down our entire clan,” Hawke ground out with a scowl.

  “No’ to mention, ye let the king down as well,” added Ethan. “He chose ye personally to compete, so ye didna need to be a laird. Och, I canna believe ye’d throw it all away so easily when it means so much to the MacKeefe Clan.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Caleb, not feeling so good about his decision anymore. “I never meant to let anyone down. But ye need to understand that I was lettin’ myself down, and I couldna have that either.”

  “What do ye think Bridget is goin’ to say about this?” asked Logan.

  “Bridget.” Caleb looked back up to the king’s dais, but she still wasn’t there. “Has anyone seen her?”

  “No’ since yesterday,” said Logan. “Why?”

  “Somethin’ is wrong. I need to find her.” He picked up Slink and was about to leave when the trumpet blew and the herald’s voice was heard loud and clear, announcing the winner.

  “It seems we have a tie for winner,” said the herald. “The two men with the most, and the exact same amount of points, are Clement MacLean and Caleb MacKeefe.”

  “What?” asked Caleb, turning around to see the astonished look on Clement’s face as well.

  “The king has decided there will be one more round, and whoever finishes first will be our new winner,” continued the announcer.

  “Doin’ what?” asked Clement.

  “Aye, in what event?” asked Caleb, not wanting to compete anymore.

  “The two men will participate in a hunt,” said the herald.

  “A hunt?” asked Ethan. “I wonder what they are huntin’.”

  “Both men will be released into the forest,” continued the herald. “They will have to make it to the loch before they are hunted down by the king’s guards.”

  “The king’s guards?” asked Hawke. “That shouldna be hard to lose them, Caleb.”

  “The guards will be accompanied by a pack of dogs that will be huntin’ by scent. Gentlemen, it is yer challenge to make it to the loch before yer whereabouts are discovered. Ye will have to find yer way, throw the dogs off yer trail to remain ahead of them, and avoid gettin’ caught by the king’s guards. Ye will be on foot and are only able to take with ye yer weapons, and whatever ye have on yer person to work it. The first man to the loch wins. Yer time starts now.”

  “Now? Wait. What?” asked Caleb, wanting to search for Bridget. He didn’t want to play these games anymore. “Nay, I canna go.”

  “Why no’?” asked Hawke. “Are ye plannin’ on lettin’ down my faither as well as the entire MacKeefe Clan again?”

  “Nay, of course no’,” he said, honestly feeling bad about that part.

  “Then get goin’,” commanded Logan, shoving his bag at him. “Do ye want me to watch Slink?”

  Caleb’s mind was in turmoil and he didn’t know what to do. He needed to look for Bridget, and this was only going to take him away from what was important to him. He wanted to be true
to himself, yet, he had his entire clan and the king counting on him. This only made him more confused as to what to do.

  “I need to find Bridget. She might be in trouble,” he told his friends.

  “We’ll find her. Now go,” said Ethan, turning him by the shoulders and giving him a push in the right direction.

  “Hurry, they’re goin’ to release the dogs,” someone called out. Caleb looked up to see Clement already running for the woods.

  “Go, Caleb!” shouted Storm.

  “Dinna let me down,” called out the king.

  “Damn it,” cursed Caleb, knowing now that his true self would never let down his clan or king. He had no choice but to finish this competition. “Hold on, Slink,” said Caleb, looking down to his pet. “Because I dinna think this mornin’ is goin’ to get better anytime soon.”

  Chapter 23

  Bridget cautiously entered the mews during the sword fight competition, wondering who would meet her after sending that missive. Whoever it was knew her secret and she had to do whatever it took to keep it safe.

  “Hello?” she called out, walking further inside. “Is anyone here?” The birds fluttered their wings from atop their perches, as if she’d scared them. There were hawks, falcons, and even an array of pigeons inside the mews. The MacKeefes used the pigeons for sending messages back and forth to their Highland camp as well as England, where Lady Wren’s siblings lived.

  There was a noise behind her and she spun around to see Sorley standing there.

  “Sorley? It’s ye who sent me that missive?”

  “Bridget?” he asked. “What do ye mean? I received a missive last night sayin’ to come here, but it seems to be missin’ this mornin’. Was it from ye? Did ye send it to me sayin’ ye ken my secret?”

  “Yer secret?” she asked. “I thought ye sent it to me, sayin’ ye kent my secret.”

  “I dinna ken what ye’re talkin’ about. But I dinna like yer threat to harm my loved one.”

  “What are ye sayin’?” she asked. “Ye said that to me.”

  “I did no such thing,” he told her. “And I dinna ken about any secret ye may have.”

  “Well, I dinna ken yer secret either,” she told him. “What is this all about? If we didna send them to each other, who did?”

  “So glad ye both came.” Valan walked out of the shadows, holding a sword in his hand.

  “Valan!” shrieked Bridget. “I should have kent it was ye. Get away from me.”

  “Me, too,” said Sorley.

  “I’m afraid that’s no’ goin’ to happen unless ye both give me what I want. After all, I ken both of yer secrets, and I’m ready to spread the word.”

  “I dinna care what ye want, ye willna get it from me,” spat Bridget.

  “Me, either,” added Sorley.

  “Oh, I think ye will, because if ye dinna do it, I’m afraid I’m goin’ to have to kill yer faither, Bridget. And also kill yer special travelin’ companion, Sorley.”

  “Ye willna touch my faither. I will no’ let ye,” Bridget answered bravely.

  “If ye two dinna put me in yer chronicles, I swear I will kill them,” Valan threatened. “I’ve already got them hidden away as my prisoners.”

  “Nay!” cried Bridget.

  “I saw Sim no’ ten minutes ago, so ye lie,” said Sorley. “He is up on the dais.”

  “Is he? Why dinna ye take a look out the door and tell me if ye see him. But I warn ye, if ye try to escape or to call out for help, I will run ye through with my sword.”

  Sorley slowly walked to the door with Valan right behind him, sword still drawn.

  When Sorley gasped and turned back, Bridget could tell by the look on his face that his friend, indeed, had been abducted.

  “What do ye want us to write in the chronicles?” asked Sorley.

  “I want ye both to put me into the books sayin’ I have a half-dozen bastard sons.”

  “What?” gasped Bridget. “Why would we do that? And what would yer wife say about that?”

  “He’s no’ married,” said Sorley.

  “He’s no’?” This was news to Bridget.

  “I’ve been recordin’ events for the past ten years and I can tell ye that he has been married three times and had each marriage annulled because his wives were all barren,” explained Sorley.

  Bridget could not believe what she was hearing. “I’m gettin’ the feelin’ that I’m no’ barren after all, am I, Valan?”

  “Of course, ye are,” snapped the man. “I just have bad luck in choosin’ wives, that’s all.”

  “I heard yer other two wives both have recently birthed bairns with their new husbands,” said Sorley.

  “Ye are the one that is barren!” gasped Bridget. This shocked her but made her feel relieved at the same time.

  “Enough!” shouted Valan, waving his sword in the air. “Ye will do as I say.”

  “Nay. I willna,” Bridget boldly remarked. “Mayhap instead yer secret should be told in the chronicles.”

  “I see now, I will have to kill no’ only yer faither, but ye as well.”

  “Nay!” shouted Bridget as he swung his sword toward her.

  “Leave her alone,” yelled Sorley, rushing forward to stop him. In doing so, he took the sword in the side, falling to the ground.

  “Sorley!” screamed Bridget, now frightened for her life. The chronicler lay on the ground bleeding, and his eyes drifted closed. “Ye killed him,” she cried.

  “That’s what happens when ye dinna do what I want,” chuckled Valan.

  “Bridget? Bridget, where are ye?” came the voice of Logan from outside.

  “I’m –” her reply was muffled by Valan’s hand clasping over her mouth. He held the sword to her throat and dragged her to the back door of the mews.

  “If ye even try to warn them, I’ll kill ye just like I did to yer chronicler friend. Now, I’m gettin’ out of here, and I’m takin’ ye with me for assurance that I willna be bothered.”

  Tears filled Bridget’s eyes as her gaze fell upon Sorley lying still and bleeding from a gaping wound in his side. Valan dragged her to the door and to his horse awaiting nearby. She felt a sinking sensation in her chest because she had the feeling she would never see Caleb or her father again.

  * * *

  Caleb ran like the wind, hearing the sound of snorting horses and barking dogs behind him. With Slink in his bag at his side, he had nobody now to help him but himself. He could see Clement up ahead, heading for the stream. He followed.

  “Clement, wait up,” he called, both of them stopping near the water.

  “What do ye want? This is a competition,” snarled the man, trying to get his breath.

  “If we work together, we’ll be able to avoid them.”

  “Why would ye want to do that?”

  “I want to help ye.”

  “But I’m yer competition.”

  “Ye’re my competition, but no’ my enemy. Now, follow me. Be sure to go through the water so the dogs have a hard time pickin’ up our scents.”

  Caleb knew these woods well, and had often had to escape the English, so he had a few tricks that he knew would work. He splashed through the water, with Clement on his heels, heading in the direction of the loch.

  “This way. In here,” he told Clement, leading him down into a ravine on the other side of the river. They hid there as they heard the sound of the guards on the horses go by.

  “I’m sorry I thought ye were the saboteur,” Caleb told him. “I guess I was too fast to judge.”

  “Nay. Ye were right,” said the man, lowering his head in shame. “I hired a man named Valan to sabotage the other contestants, but I never told him to hurt anyone, I swear. I only wanted to win because my clan is sick and starvin’ and I need the money desperately.”

  “What?” This surprised Caleb to hear this. “Wait a minute. I was right about ye after all?”

  “I am sorry, Caleb. My clan fell on some hard times and I only did this to try to help them. I nev
er wanted anyone to get hurt.”

  “Why didna ye just ask some of the other lairds for help instead of cheatin’? I’m sure they would have gladly given ye what ye needed.”

  “I was too proud to ask for help. I guess I thought somehow that made me weak.”

  “The only thing that made ye weak was lowerin’ yerself to such deceitful ways.”

  “I realize that now and I hope ye can forgive me.”

  “Me? What about the rest of the lairds? What about the king? When they find out what ye did, ye’re goin’ to be strung up for guid now. Ye’ll be lucky to walk away with yer life.”

  “I ken I made a bad decision, and I’m willin’ to pay for it, even if it means my life.”

  “Why did Valan even help ye?” asked Caleb. “I’m sure ye couldna pay him, so what was in it for him?”

  “My daughter was raped by an enemy durin’ a battle months ago,” the man said sadly. “My wife and I kept it a secret from the clan, because we didna want my daughter to have to live with the shame.”

  “But it wasna her fault.”

  “Nay. But no man would ever want her after that. So, when Valan found out, he told me he wanted to marry her. He is barren and wants to pretend the child is his.”

  “He’s barren? Are ye sure?” asked Caleb, in surprise, thinking about poor Bridget.

  “I’m sure. If I wasna too desperate to help my clan and if I hadna been too proud to ask for help, I never would have blackmailed Valan. I told him I would only do what he wanted if he helped me to win the title of Leader of the Lairds.”

  “And Valan went too far.”

  “Aye,” said Clement with a sad nod. “I tried to stop him, but he seemed to go mad. I didna ken what to do. Ye’ve got to believe me when I tell ye that I dinna even care about winnin’ the contest anymore. All I want is to see my wife and children again. But I fear I’ve failed as a laird as well as a husband and faither, too.”

  “Nay. Dinna say that. I saw how ye threw the sword fight, so I ken ye mean what ye say. I will help ye, Clement, because I dinna want yer family or clan to suffer.”

  “If ye help me, ye will be a part of this horrific crime as well.”