Then she saw Donnan, a bolt protruding from his chest, his eyes unseeing. She closed her eyes briefly then turned back to Duncan.
The bolt in his leg did not go all the way through, but the one in his shoulder did. She snapped off the tip and pushed it through as Malcolm put pressure on the front and back of his shoulder with bandages retrieved from the wagon. With Iain holding Duncan’s leg firmly, Malcolm removed the bolt. Anna pressed the wound to staunch the bleeding, earning a growl of pain from Duncan. A warm, furry body pressed against her and Anna glanced up in surprise. Trean flattened himself on the ground at her side, muzzle on his paws, eyes intent.
“Keep out of the way, Trean,” she warned. Seeming to understand her, he wiggled his body once, then was still, though his eyes followed her every move.
Hands shaking, Anna made a poultice of yarrow and rose bark to stop the bleeding, mixing in clove and plantain to ward off infection. She allowed her healing skills to take over, pushing her emotions away. She told herself she treated a fallen warrior, not her future husband. Cleaning both wounds with the whisky Iain produced, she then applied the compound to the wounds, binding them tightly.
Moving to Liam and Rory, she stitched them both. Liam flinched each time her rounded needle darted in and out of his torn flesh, and he pulled hard on the flask of whisky. Rory lay unconscious, a blessing, as his chest wound went to the bone. Ross’s wounds proved shallow and easiest to treat.
Iain, Malcolm and Anna discussed their options. They agreed the men should not be moved for at least a day. They dared not risk further reducing their numbers by sending someone for help. Home remained roughly a day’s ride away.
Iain and Malcolm allowed Anna to treat a couple of smaller wounds she did not initially detect, needing only a few stitches between them. The fact she bore no wound only infuriated her further, creating a deeper sense of guilt. She started a cook fire while Iain and Malcolm searched the fallen. They collected what could be of use, then piled the bodies a furlong away downwind to burn.
A heap of retrieved weapons lay stacked in the wagon when they finished. Included in the haul were eighteen saddled horses picketed a few yards from the ambush site.
Iain approached. “I found these on Alain. Thought ye might know where they came from.”
He dropped a bag of silver coins, along with a note allowing safe passage for the bearer, in her lap. The seal on the note was unmistakable. The Earl of Northumberland. Her gut clenched to have her suspicions confirmed. The man had made several attempts in the past on behalf of his son for her hand. Now he offered payment for her capture. With this information, Anna knew in her bones he was the one who ordered the attack on her home, the one who had ordered her family killed. She stowed the items away for further consideration, pushing her thoughts only to the health of Duncan and his men.
Duncan was in obvious pain. Trean had moved his allegiance to Duncan, his small body tucked tight against the man’s side, Duncan’s hand fisted in the plush coat. Anna checked the dressings. The bleeding had halted in both wounds, though she knew movement could tear them open again. The real threat would be infection and fever. The men needed time to heal, but sitting here left them exposed.
As the men completed their chores, Iain stood by Anna’s side while she stirred a pot of stew and brewed a large batch of medicated tea for the wounded.
No tea could ease her pain. Restless, she checked on Rory, still lying unconscious on the back of the wagon, and made Duncan as comfortable as possible. Malcolm took the first watch while Anna stayed by Duncan’s side, absently stroking Trean’s soft fur. She placed her swords on the ground within easy reach, in case of another attack. Staring at the glow of the fire on the hillside where their enemies burned, her thoughts turned several days south.
“Who was it, Anna?”
She inhaled a deep breath, drawing strength from the love and concern she heard in Duncan’s voice. “The Earl of Northumberland,” she replied. “His son chased me for years. He pursued me to the point where his father offered to buy me, as if I was so much livestock at market.” With an involuntary shudder, she handed Duncan the bag of coins and the letter of safe passage. “I heard Alain yell I was worth double unharmed. This man is reaching across Scotland for me, hurting people I care about. What am I to do?” Despair choked her voice.
Duncan took a shallow breath. “I have known Alain all my life. He was overly prideful and misguided, but he wasnae stupid. He wouldnae have told the earl where ye are. If he did, the earl would have sent agents of his own to do the job. Then Alain would be out a purse, and possibly his life. The earl now knows ye live in Scotland, but not with yer grandda’s people. Any man this determined would have made sure of that by now.”
Anna mulled over his logic, her fingers stroking Trean’s tummy as he slept, paws in the air. She smiled to see the pup so relaxed.
Duncan touched her hand. “The question I need answered is, will he still pursue ye if he knows ye are wed?”
The thought shook her. Would he? She truly did not know.
“Men like the earl take what they want, regardless of the law. I would no longer have my virtue, but if his son still desired me, I doubt it would matter. Who could stand up to him if he did? He rules the northern part of England for the crown. It is not beyond him to seek an annulment from the Church on my behalf.”
Duncan frowned. “Who is this son of his who would take another man’s wife as his own?”
Anna’s lip curled at the thought of him. “Henry is a slimy, despicable man whom I could easily defeat in a fair fight. He has been taught to take what he wants regardless of the consequences. Though he lacks his father’s cunning, he is a vile creature. He is one of the reasons I avoided any interest from men. I would fight to the death rather than submit to him.”
Hauling himself jerkily to one elbow, Duncan stared at her. “Anna ye will be my wife, and I will keep ye safe. I cannae lose ye, too.”
Blinking against tears, she nodded in agreement, though somewhat confused by his words. Lose me, too?
Duncan shook his head, forestalling her question. “Please promise me ye willnae do something so foolish again. Ye charged the cursed lot of them on yer own.”
Anna heard the pleading in his voice, and she couldn’t be angry with him for questioning her abilities. “I only charged when I heard Alain shout I was not to be harmed. I would not have done so otherwise.”
Judging from the scowl on his face, her words didn’t have the placating effect she hoped for, but he did not press further.
She curled next to him, one arm around his good shoulder as she sifted her fingers through his hair. He calmed, settling under her touch, until he slipped into a troubled sleep. She continued to stroke him, watching as he slept, until Malcolm tapped her shoulder, letting her know of her guard shift. Guilt and fear for Duncan filled her as she listened for signs of another attack. Like him, she could not bear the thought of losing him, too.
What if the earl had sent men to follow Alain?
Chapter 19
After waking Iain for his watch, Anna returned to her bedroll. Before she knew it, light broke over the horizon, signaling a new day. Groggy, she rose to check on the wounded. Only Liam was awake, looking much improved. Color returned to his cheeks, and his wound appeared healthy.
“We would ’ave been done without ye, lass. Ye killed more than your share o’ those men yesterday, then patched us all up.”
She shook her head. “Liam, you do not understand. If it was not for me, you would be home this day. Those men were sent to capture me. ’Tis my fault we were attacked, that you are all injured and Donnan lies dead.”
“Wheesht now, lass. Alain was daft. He would be seekin’ his revenge one way or the other. We all saw what ye done. Ye are part of us now. Anyone who attacks one MacGregor attacks us all. Because of yer skill with a bow and sword, we live. Because of yer hand with a needle and thread, I will soon be dancin’ again. And because of yer bravery and generous heart, Dun
can will ’ave himself a bonny bride who will be one of the clan’s best defenders. Donnan’s blood is on Alain’s head, not yorn.”
“Thank you, Liam.” Overwhelmed by his declaration, Anna kissed his cheek.
He winked and hobbled over to check on Rory, who’d still not regained consciousness. Scooting gingerly onto the back of the wagon next to Rory, Liam quietly talked to him, though none knew if the man heard or not. Unwilling to interrupt an intimate moment between brothers, Anna busied herself preparing breakfast.
She tossed out the remnants of last night’s kettle, then brewed more tea while oatcakes cooked. Motioning to Iain, she walked to the front of the wagon where they would not be overheard.
“I worry we are too exposed here. Two of Alain’s men escaped. I cannot help but feel vulnerable here with the forest to hide them, and the river at our back.”
Iain’s easy smile turned grim. “Aye, Malcolm and I believe the same. We thought one of us should ride ahead to find a more secluded spot to camp.” He jerked his head toward the injured men. “How far do ye think they can travel without risking further harm?”
“If they lie down in the wagons, I do not think an hour of slow travel would bring them harm.”
Iain nodded and turned to go. Remembering a question she had forgotten to ask yesterday, Anna grabbed his arm. “Did you recognize the men with Alain?”
Iain shook his head. “Nae, none of us did, but Alain’s mother was a Hamilton, a clan south of Edinburgh. We suspect ’tis them. We put a dirk with a clan badge in the cart to ask when we return home.”
Anna stared into the distance as she considered his words. Iain saddled one of the horses and galloped down the trail.
An hour later, Iain returned, having found a better place to camp three furlongs away. He’d scouted the area thoroughly and reported no sign of activity. Anna allowed herself a sigh of relief.
By this time, Rory had regained consciousness. Still shaky, he painfully sat and ate the last of the oatcakes, letting Trean lick the crumbs from his fingers.
Iain and Malcolm rearranged the carts, transferring some of the lighter bundles to the captured horses, creating enough room for Rory and Duncan to lay in the wagon, a pile of hay between them for Trean. They wrapped Donnan’s body in his plaide and draped him over one of the horses, tying him securely.
At the new campsite, Anna inspected the wounded and added fresh dressings, thankful the ride did not start any new bleeding. They settled in for the day, restless and alert.
Later in the afternoon, four riders approached. Iain, Malcolm and Anna greeted them cautiously at the perimeter of their site.
“We saw the smoke last night, and our laird sent us to investigate.” Their leader identified himself as Dougal MacFarlane.
Iain described the events of the previous day. An angry murmur rose among the MacFarlanes to hear a group of allies were attacked on their lands. They’d not run across any sign of those who escaped and did not recognize the clan crest when Iain showed it to them. Anna suspected the men had returned to the Lowlands. If they were Hamiltons, where else would they go?
Dougal walked to where Duncan lay in the cart and greeted him as an old friend. Trean’s youthful growl brought a smile to his face. “I see ye have a wee guardian.” Keeping his fingers well away from the sharp baby teeth, he halted a pace from the wagon. “I will send a man to report the situation to our laird. When ready, we will escort ye home.”
They agreed to resume their journey at first light. Anna stayed with Duncan through the night while the others shared the watch. At daybreak, they loaded the wounded onto the wagons, tethered the captured horses, and continued their trek. Whether because of their new escort, or lack of enemies, the trip proved uneventful. By evening, they arrived at Ciardun.
They were greeted by the guards at the gate, and word spread quickly of their arrival. The laird accompanied Duncan’s litter inside, Mairi and Nessa following worriedly behind. Rory was placed in the small room Anna used for healing. A small wooden box was placed in Nessa’s room for Trean. After seeing to his comfort, Anna left the drowsy pup in his new bed and dashed to Duncan’s room on the third level of the north tower, where she found the laird speaking with his son in private.
Waiting impatiently, Anna briefly related the story of the trip to the women, leaving out many details for Nessa’s benefit. Eyes wide, Lady MacGregor put her servants into motion as she hurried to her son’s side.
Pulling two chairs next to Duncan’s bed, Mairi took one. She doted over Duncan while Anna and Nessa prepared fresh poultices and dressings. Keeping their minds busy and away from the reality of their patient, Anna used it as a teaching opportunity, describing what she’d done thus far, and why. The laird glanced her way briefly, then left the room.
Duncan appeared better, but Anna knew infection from such wounds killed as often as the wound itself. Unable to stem her deep sense of blame to see him injured, Anna avoided eye contact, quickly glancing away when his gaze tried to catch hers. She knew he attempted to comfort her, but his need to make her feel better did nothing to assuage her guilt. With Mairi and Nessa present, there was no opportunity for private words between them.
A gentle knock sounded, and Mairi rose to answer the summons. Malcolm peeked in.
“Lady Anna, the laird bids ye join him downstairs.”
As she arrived at the lard’s solar, MacGregor rose from his chair in front of the fire.
He waved to the seat next to his. “Please sit. Can I offer ye wine?” His voice and expression gave her no clue as to his mood.
She nodded, wordlessly accepting the goblet. Taking a long drink, she allowed the dark liquid to warm her insides as the libation coursed its way through her blood.
“Ye had quite an adventure. I would hear yer version of it.”
Though his voice sounded gentle, the command rang clear. Taking a deep breath, Anna set her goblet aside and began from the day they left until they returned. When she reached the part of the attack, she handed him the bag of coins along with the note from the Earl of Northumberland.
They both stared into the fire for a long time. Fear of the laird’s anger for her responsibility, and the possibility of being asked to leave, gnawed at her gut. His prediction of her presence bringing enemies to his clan echoed in her ears.
“I understand ye are to become my daughter-by-marriage.” Kenneth still stared at the fire, his voice calm.
Of all the things she expected to hear from him, this was not among them, and it took a moment for her to recover. “Duncan asked me to marry him two days ago.” Anna held her breath, waiting for his reaction, wondering if recent events made their betrothal unacceptable.
The laird must have read her discomfort, for he smiled. “Duncan spoke to me a few weeks ago about his intentions. I am pleased the two of ye have come to an accord.”
She was surprised by this news, but upon reflection, she shouldn’t have been. She knew Duncan was close to his father and would seek his advice and approval.
“Is there no other match you wish him to make, then?”
“Nae. There are no daughters of marrying age among our allies at this time, nor among those with whom we might forge a new bond. Besides, I doubt it would make a whit of difference if there were.” His smile deepened, but the lines of worry still creased his forehead.
Anna wanted to return his smile, but her guilt shoved like a dagger in her chest.
Duncan’s father shrugged. “He is quite determined to have ye. My son has always been quiet, thinking through a situation before acting. I have never seen him so resolute and passionate about anyone or anything before.”
Knowing how important alliances were to the safety and well-being of the clans, Anna’s stomach twisted with guilt, realizing she brought nothing to this marriage. “I regret I bring no benefit to your clan, though I promise to serve faithfully.”
The laird’s eyes narrowed and his face folded into a frown. “Ye are mistaken. Already, ye have saved
both my son’s and daughter’s lives, along with several of my men.”
Holding up his hand to halt her argument, he continued. “I understand ye think this ordeal is yer fault, but as with Shamus, ye dinnae instigate the attack. Alain would have found another way to get himself into trouble. Had I allowed Duncan to kill him when he wanted, this never would have happened. So ye see, Anna, I too feel guilty my son lies upstairs seriously wounded, and a good man I have known since his birth is dead.”
Anna squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She was not ready to relinquish her sense of responsibility and the remorse accompanying it. Kenneth sighed.
“Duncan is right, you dinnae see yer own value. Ye won us favor with the Graham, which is not easily done. An alliance would be a boon for our clan. Ye saw how large and prosperous they are. They field almost twice as many men, and their location is advantageous. Ye witnessed the benefits from trade, from having friends who live where the Highlands meet the Lowlands.”
Anna jerked her head in agreement.
“The information gained by having an ally to the south, plus having a buffer between our home and the English, is quite valuable. In addition, the Graham laird seeks a match for his son. Yer actions helped make Nessa a bride he considers. Tell me what you think of Blaine Graham.”
Relieved to find MacGregor still firmly supporting her, much of the tension she carried faded. Agreeable to the change in their conversation, she related her observations about Blaine, proposing they host him before negotiations grew serious.
“Thank you for sending the missive to my family,” she added.
A grin broke out on his face. “Ah, the other alliance. Ye think you bring naught to our clan, but in one sennight, I predict ye have prepared the ground for not one, but two treaties. Though Elliot lies too far south for regular contact, any pact strengthens our position. Graham and Elliot allies potentially become MacGregor allies. A united Scotland benefits us all. ’Tis only a matter of time before war comes with the English again. Longshanks is too greedy. When it does, Elliot and other border clans will be the tip of the spear.”
Highland Escape Page 18
