by Katy Baker
“What I wonder,” the guard continued. “Is what you are doing with an escaped prisoner, my lord?”
Ewan couldn’t help but notice the slight sneer he put on the words ‘my lord’ and the way the men’s hands tightened on their weapons.
“Listen to me ye little—” he began.
“Lord Ewan apprehended me,” Gretchen said loudly. “He was taking me to Lady Merith to decide my punishment.”
The guard’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Finally, he nodded. “Well, seems we’re all in agreement. We’ll escort you to the laird. Don’t try anything, my lady. I have twenty men within earshot who would be here in an instant if I call.”
“Me?” Gretchen said, eyes widening. “Of course not. I’ll be a good little girl. Promise.”
The man scowled and then moved off. Ewan and Gretchen nudged their horses into motion and the three other guards fell into step around them, herding them like sheep.
Ewan looked around as they rode, assessing the disposition of the men. De Clare had placed his men strategically. They were mixed in with the Murray regulars but were thickest around the inner cordon of the camp where Merith had her tent.
He noticed a group of his own men standing in the shadows near the inner cordon. Connail was with them. He watched as Ewan and Gretchen were led forward. Then he raised his hands and made a series of gestures—a kind of sign language which he and Ewan had invented to let them pass messages on the battle field. It was a question and Ewan nodded in response. Connail and the others turned and disappeared into the darkness.
They were led into Merith’s tent. Merith was there, sitting straight-backed in a large chair with Amy standing to one side. Ewan’s stomach sank as he spotted Richard de Clare standing on her other side.
“So,” he said as Ewan and Gretchen came to stand in front of them. “It’s true. The traitor escaped and it looks to me as though you helped her.”
“He did no such thing,” Gretchen snapped at Richard. “And I’m no traitor.”
“Really? Then why did your men catch you and Ewan coming back from meeting with the MacFarlanes?”
A spike of alarm went through Ewan. How did they know about that? Did he know what they’d discussed?
Richard de Clare waved a hand. “Arrest them.”
The guards moved and Ewan stepped in front of Gretchen, drawing his sword in one fluid motion. “Lay one hand on her and I’ll kill ye,” he growled.
“What? You’d risk your life for some outland traitor?” Richard sneered.
“She’s no traitor,” Ewan answered. “And I’d thank ye to watch yer tone when ye speak of her. She’s my betrothed.”
Merith’s eyes narrowed and she stood. “Betrothed? Have ye lost yer mind, cousin?”
“She’s bewitched him!” de Clare cried. “Not only is she a traitor, but a witch as well!”
Fury erupted along Ewan’s nerves. It was all he could do not to throw himself at de Clare. But there was too much riding on this meeting. He had to keep calm. He turned to look at Merith. “Will ye let yer pet hound keep snarling, cousin? If so I might have to muzzle it.”
Richard de Clare’s eyes bulged at the insult and his hand went to his sword hilt.
“Enough!” Merith snapped. “I’ll not have the two of ye swapping insults like bairns!” Her eyes focused on Ewan and he saw a mixture of fear and suspicion warring in them. “But ye have a lot of explaining to do, cousin. Tell me, why should I not arrest ye both as traitors?”
This was it. His chance. He glanced at de Clare who stared back with a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.
“It’s true I’ve been to meet with the MacFarlanes,” he began. “But not for the reasons ye suppose. I’m no traitor and neither is Gretchen. She was telling us the truth, the lass she went to meet is her friend, Darcy, who comes from her homeland. She just happens to be married to Quinn MacFarlane, the laird’s brother.” He pulled the scroll Robert MacFarlane had given him from his pocket and held it out. “The MacFarlanes want peace,” he said. “This letter guarantees ye and yer honor guard safe passage to parley with their laird. There is nay need for this battle. There is nay need for Murray warriors to lose their lives.”
Merith stared at the parchment but made no move to take it. “They want peace?” she spat. “After everything they’ve done? After raiding our lands, attacking our people? After killing my husband?”
“You see?” Richard de Clare said. “They’ve corrupted Ewan as well. The MacFarlanes are poison and need to be dealt with once and for all!”
Ewan glanced around the tent. Richard de Clare’s guardsmen stood at intervals along the wall. If he challenged Richard now, things would get bloody. The women could get injured. He ground his teeth.
Where are ye, Connail?
Ewan fought to keep his temper in check. Steady. Wait for the right moment.
“Cousin,” he said, ignoring de Clare. “Think this through. What would I have to gain by betraying ye? And if Gretchen and I were traitors why would we have come here? Surely we would have fled rather than riding back into the camp?”
Merith stared at him and he couldn’t tell whether he was getting through or not. Then her expression hardened.
“Nay,” she said. “I willnae listen to this. Richard’s right, Ewan. Ye’ve been a trouble maker ever since we were children. My father was right to banish ye.”
“Why? Because I happened to disagree with him?” Ewan growled, his temper rising. “Because I dared to stand up to his bullying ways? Will ye end up just like him, Merith?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Arrest them!”
De Clare’s men moved but Amy suddenly stepped forward and cried, “Wait!”
“Stay out of this, sister,” Merith growled.
“I will not!” Amy snapped. “If ye are going to arrest Ewan and Gretchen then ye’ll have to arrest me too! How do ye think Gretchen escaped from Dun Carrick? I let her out!”
“Amy, no,” Gretchen whispered, taking a step towards her but Amy held out a hand. “Nay, dinna try to keep me quiet. I’m tired of this. It’s time we all faced the truth.”
“How could ye?” Merith said, her eyes flashing with a combination of hurt and anger. “I’m yer sister. Yer laird. How could ye betray me like this?”
“Lord, help me!” Amy cried, her voice every bit as angry as Merith’s. “That’s just it, Merith. I didnae betray ye! None of us did! But ye have become so obsessed with protecting yer son that all ye see is enemies! Father was the same—nay, dinna deny it, I loved him but could see his faults. Yer husband was the same and now ye are becoming like them both. Well, I’ve had enough! Aye, I helped Gretchen escape. Aye, I set up the meeting between her and Darcy because she’s my friend and I saw a way to help her. Aye, I’m still in contact with Dougal MacFarlane. Does that make me a traitor too, sister? Because I’ve a friend who isnae a Murray? Ye might see enemies all around but there are friends too. Ewan, Gretchen, me. Ye only have to open yer eyes and see it!”
She fell silent and the two sisters stared at each other. Ewan had never realized how alike they were. Both with the same dark hair, large eyes, fiery temper. He held his breath, willing Merith to listen. The Murray laird glared at Amy, her eyes flashing and a vein twitching in her temple.
Then she let out a long sigh. “I forgot ye were fostered by the MacFarlanes for a time. Ye enjoyed it there, as I recall.”
“Aye,” Amy breathed. “I did. They’re good people. If Ewan says they want peace, I believe him. Shouldnae we at least take the chance? Go and meet Laird Robert. Speak to him. That’s all I ask.”
“Listen to yer sister,” Ewan said softly. “It may be hard to believe but she sometimes speaks sense.”
A wry smile twisted Merith’s mouth. “I’ve been outmaneuvered haven’t I? I never stood a chance with the two of ye in league with each other. It’s a good job my mother isnae here as well or I’d be totally done for.” She sucked in a breath, straightened her shoulders “Very well. I’ll meet with Robert MacFa
rlane under the flag of parley. I’ll hear what he has to say.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Richard de Clare cried. “You would meet with that man, after his brother killed your husband? After his men raided your lands, attacked your people?”
From the corner of his eye, Ewan saw Connail step into the tent. He stood unobtrusively by the door and nodded. That was the signal. All was ready.
“I wanted to speak to ye about that,” Ewan said, stepping forward so he was between Richard de Clare and Merith. Seeing him move, Gretchen made a gesture to Amy and the two of them began inching closer to the door where Connail waited.
“Ye see, I’ve heard this rumor that the MacFarlane attacks on Murray lands weren’t really attacks at all. They were tricks. Fakes. Made to look like raids in order to incite trouble between us. Ye wouldnae know anything about that, would ye?”
Richard de Clare’s eyes flicked from Ewan to Merith. “What are you talking about? He’s lying, Merith. Don’t listen to him. You spoke to the merchant yourself, you know what the MacFarlanes did.”
“Aye,” Ewan said, stalking closer. “That merchant. He was very convincing, wasn’t he? Pity he was acting, telling us a bunch of lies.”
“What do ye mean, Ewan?” Merith demanded. “What is this?”
Without taking his eyes off de Clare, Ewan pulled a scroll from his pocket, the one detailing de Clare’s arrangement with the merchant and tossed it at Merith’s feet.
“What’s that?” de Clare spat. “More lies?”
There was a slightly desperate edge to his voice now and his eyes darted between Merith and Ewan. Merith scooped up the scroll, unrolled it and read. Her eyes widened as she scanned the page.
“Ye,” she breathed, looking at Richard. “It was ye.”
Richard de Clare drew his sword. “Men!”
De Clare’s men sprang forward, drawing their weapons just as Connail grabbed Amy and Gretchen and pushed them through the door. De Clare lunged at Merith but Ewan threw himself between them catching de Clare’s blade on his own in a clash of metal.
With a snarl de Clare swung his sword and he and Ewan traded a series of lightning blows. De Clare was a master swordsman and his weapon was a blur as it snaked at Ewan, looking for way through his defenses. But Ewan had been wielding a sword since he was big enough to hold one and had practiced every day of his life. His instincts took over. He parried de Clare’s strokes then answered with his own, batting his opponent’s sword aside and darting inside his guard. De Clare deflected his blow but was forced back a pace, then another.
Behind him Ewan heard Merith scream. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw de Clare’s men advancing on her. With a bellow of rage he threw himself at them, slicing the hamstrings of one man, punching another in the face with the hilt of his sword and pushing Merith behind him.
He dropped into a fighting crouch in front of his cousin, holding his sword two-handed, eyes assessing his opponents. There were four of them, not counting the two he’d already dispatched. By the tent flap Connail was engaged in a furious battle with a fifth.
The tent flap flew open and Ewan’s men who’d been waiting outside suddenly poured into the tent, weapons drawn. De Clare’s men turned to face them and the tent was quickly filled with the sound of fighting, the clash of metal on metal, the grunts and curses of the combatants.
The battle was short. In only a few moments de Clare’s men threw down their weapons, realizing they were outnumbered. Connail and the others surrounded them, forcing their hands behind their backs and binding them.
Ewan whirled to face Richard de Clare and then stuttered to a halt.
There was no sign of him, only a long tear in the tent wall that flapped in the night breeze.
“No!” Ewan growled. He stepped through the tear and looked out into the night but Richard de Clare was long gone.
Ducking back into the tent he crossed to Merith. “Are ye all right?” he asked her, taking her arm.
“Aye,” she breathed, running a trembling hand through her hair. “That bastard,” she grated, some of her usual fire returning. “I’ll kill him for this.”
“Ye’ll have to get in line,” Ewan murmured.
He looked around, checking that de Clare’s men had been subdued. Amy and Gretchen stumbled into the tent. Their eyes widened then Amy hurried to Merith’s side, Gretchen to Ewan’s.
She wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said into his shoulder. “I was terrified.”
“Hush, love,” he said, stroking her hair. “All will be well. Stay with Merith and Amy. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ve a rat to hunt.”
Then he spun on his heel and strode out into the night.
Chapter 17
GRETCHEN TURNED OVER on the bed, trying to find sleep which eluded her.
“That must be the hundredth time ye’ve turned over tonight,” Amy said beside her. “And about the tenth time ye’ve elbowed me in the ribs while ye do so.”
“Sorry,” Gretchen muttered. It was no good. There was no way she was going to get any sleep. With a sigh she sat up and scrubbed at her eyes. They felt grainy from lack of sleep.
She and Amy were curled up on the pile of furs that passed for Ewan’s bed. After the events of earlier Ewan and his men had gone in pursuit of de Clare, Merith overseeing operations from her tent. Gretchen and Amy had been instructed not to leave the camp. After de Clare’s treachery Ewan was taking no chances with their safety. Two of Ewan’s men stood guard outside the tent whilst five more watched over Merith.
“Where do ye think he is?” Amy asked.
Gretchen didn’t need to ask who she meant. “Far away by now if he’s got any sense. I wouldn’t like to be in his shoes when Ewan finds him.”
Amy grunted. “Or Merith. She can be a bit scary when she’s angry.”
“Yeah, I noticed. I’m just glad she’s on our side now.”
“Me too.”
Gretchen stood and stretched her arms over her head, trying to work out the kinks in her back. She’d slept in her dress which was now rumpled and her hair desperately needed a brush. She looked around the tent more in hope than expectation that Ewan might have one lying about.
Just then the tent flap opened and Ewan strode in. Gretchen breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him. He seemed tired—there were dark shadows under his eyes and his hair was tousled but to Gretchen he was still the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She hurried over to him, laying her hand on his arm.
“You look exhausted! Have you had any sleep?”
Ewan shook his head. “I’ve been tracking de Clare all night.”
Gretchen bit her lip. “Did you find him?”
“No. The bastard slipped away from us in the marshes to the north. He could be anywhere by now.”
“He’ll not come back here though will he?” Amy asked, anxiety evident in her voice.
“Nay, lass. He may be evil but he’s not stupid. He’ll get nowhere near either of ye. I swear it.”
He looked at Gretchen and his expression softened. He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “This isnae how I hoped our betrothal would begin, love.”
Gretchen smiled up at him. “Well at least we can’t be accused of being boring can we?”
A small smile twisted Ewan’s lips. “Nay, love. We canna be accused of that.” He pressed his forehead against hers and Gretchen closed her eyes, savoring the moment.
Amy cleared her throat loudly and Ewan stepped back, laughing.
“Ever the subtle one, eh, cousin?” Then his face became serious. “Like I said, we didnae find Richard de Clare last night but that’s not changed anything. We’ll go ahead with the parley as agreed. We’ll be riding within the hour. Ye need to get ready.”
Amy snorted. “That won’t take long. We’re dressed already.”
“There is one thing,” Gretchen asked. “Do you have a hairbrush?”
THE SUN WAS JUST PEEKING over the hor
izon, sending bolts of sunlight across the landscape when Gretchen swung into the saddle.
What will come of today? she wondered. Will we have peace or a battle?
Her belly fluttered with nerves. This was the culmination of her mission—the reason she’d been sent here. The fate of two clans would be decided today.
Around her the camp was beginning to mobilize. As far as the warriors were concerned a battle would be fought today and they were preparing as such. They wouldn’t change that until their laird came riding back to tell them a peace accord had been reached.
If, Gretchen told herself. Nothing has been decided.
She prayed with all her heart that things would go well today. She hoped that Merith Murray and Robert MacFarlane could reach an agreement. She hoped that Ewan Murray and Quinn MacFarlane wouldn’t have to face each other in battle. She hoped she wouldn’t have to stand on the opposite side to her best friend.
Ewan nudged his mount closer to hers. He’d donned his battle gear and carried a huge round shield in addition to the sword he wore strapped across his back. It was ceremonial only and all weapons would be left with an honor guard a good distance from the parley tent but it had the desired effect. With the sun glinting off his glossy black hair and shining in his eyes, he looked every inch the fearsome Scottish warrior. The sight of him took her breath away. A wave of love and longing came over her.
Ewan, she thought. My Ewan. Oh Lord, please keep him safe.
“Ready, love?” he asked.
She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even though her stomach churned. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
They set out. Merith, Ewan and Connail leading the column, Gretchen and Amy behind. An honor guard of fifty of Ewan’s hand-picked warriors surrounded them. The army parted to watch them pass, most watching in silence as their laird rode out, a few calling Merith’s name or cheering.
The site for the meeting lay equidistant between both camps and it didn’t take long before it came into a view. A small camp had been set up: a large tent fluttering with the flag of truce and two smaller ones—places for the honor guard to wait. Gretchen squinted into the distance but could see no sign of Darcy or the others but several horses were hobbled nearby and a contingent of MacFarlane warriors waited in a line behind the tents, sitting on their mounts and watching Merith’s party approach.
