The Laird's Bastard Daughter (The Highland Warlord Series Book 1)

by Tessa Murran

  Brandan’s dismay was plain on his face, and he did not bother to hide it. ‘Then I hope I am not the one to cut him down when we join in battle,’ he said, bitterly. ‘Of course, that would make you a widow and, in truth, I think part of me wants you to be, for you are still so lovely and ….’

  ‘Why would you cut him down, Brandan?’

  He would not meet her eye.

  ‘Surely…oh Brandan, you cannot mean to fight with the English?’

  ‘They pay well, and they take anyone as mercenaries, and I owe them allegiance. These men I am with have all been made outlaws by King Robert. He has the gall to call himself King of the Scots, but not all Scots believe that. Many, like me, prefer to fight for the winning side.’

  ‘You can’t do it.’

  ‘Tell me Ravenna, do you think anyone at Mauldsmyre shed a tear at my being gone, besides you? They treated both of us as the lowest of the low, me because my father was poor, and you because you were a bastard. Don’t you hate all of them?’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that, some were kind, I had friends there. And how can you fight for the English after what they have done to us?’

  ‘England has been my saviour. It has lifted me up and given me wealth and position. When I fled south over the border, I had nothing. I fought in Edward’s wars, and I worked my way up.’

  ‘By killing Scots.’

  ‘By killing whoever I had to,’ he shrugged. ‘Eventually, I crossed the path of a wealthy widow who was free and wanted me, so I married her, and I am a man of substance now, with lands and the fine manor house she brought with her.’

  It was so strange. A few years ago Ravenna would have been jealous that this man, with his fine eyes and hauntingly beautiful face, had given his affection to another. Now she felt nothing, only contempt for what he had degenerated into, and for how easily he had left her behind.

  ‘Brandan, are you not a Scot? It is in your heart, it is who you are and you cannot change that.’

  ‘Wealth can change that, land too. It is everything in this world, Ravenna.’

  ‘So what are you doing here, spying for the English?’

  ‘I know the Highlands, I blend in, and I am useful to them. I have no intention of fighting for a side who cannot win. The English army is huge, and you Scots are desperate and starving. We will ride over your cavalry and crush them, like grass. No quarter will be given, and what Edward will do in the aftermath does not bear thinking about. You will have heard of the massacre at Berwick years ago. Everyone in that town put to the sword for defying English authority, men, women, children, they say the streets ran red with blood. ’Twill be nothing compared to what Edward will unleash on Scotland, once he wins this battle. He is a petty, spiteful man.’

  ‘And yet, you would fight for such a one?’ she said, with utter contempt.

  ‘The Bruce is no better, leaving a bloody trail in his wake, murdering anyone who stands in his way. He is outside God’s grace, excommunicated, a rebel and an outlaw and, trust me, he will soon die a traitor’s death. King Edward will win this war, and then, you will be on the wrong side of it, and your soldier husband too.’

  ‘So what is to be done with me, with Morna? Now we know what you are about, will you slit our throats to cover your tracks?’

  ‘I have to go. I have work to do. You will stay here tonight, with Will. He will make sure you stay put, and in the morning Ravenna, he will take you south, around the flanks of the Scots army and on to the English camp. You will be safe there.’

  ‘No, I cannot do that. Please, let us go Brandan. We are no danger to you, truly. I just want to get to the camp to see my husband.’

  ‘No one in their right mind runs towards a battle, especially not a woman with a bairn in her belly. You will do as you are told, and go south, with Will.’

  ‘Set Morna free then, let her go back north, she is but a child still.’

  ‘No, I will not. Forgive me Ravenna, but whether you like it or not, you will have my protection. I owe you that much.’

  ‘We don’t owe each other anything, and I certainly don’t owe you forgiveness. If you make us stay here, if you hold us prisoner and take us to the English, I will find a way to kill you, Brandan, no matter how long it takes me.’

  He looked at her long and hard, this man she had once loved more than life itself, this man she would have given up everything for. The anger inside of her must have shown on her face for he took a step back. ‘It seems you are not the girl I used to love, Ravenna.’

  ‘I am happy to disappoint you, for that girl was a fool.’

  He looked at the ground, his jaw working. ‘Get some sleep. Will can stand guard over you.’ He turned to go and then swirled around. ‘If we don’t meet again, know this, I did love you, truly I did. I meant to do what was right for both of us, all those years ago. Perhaps there wasn’t much honour in it, but there it is.’

  ‘Go then, I hope they kill you for the traitor you are.’ Ravenna tried hard not to let her voice break.

  ‘You don’t mean that. Farewell, and may God protect you, Ravenna Gowan.’

  ***

  In the dead of night, Ravenna woke to feel a firm hand over her mouth. Will O’Neill’s face was in hers.

  ‘Quiet, don’t make a sound. You have to go now before they wake and you are lost.’

  He pulled her to her feet, and they crept away from the campfire, into the shelter of the trees. Morna was waiting there, holding the reins of a horse, stroking its face to calm it, her face white in the moonlight. She was shivering as Will took hold of her hand and dragged her deeper into the forest. Ravenna followed.

  When they got some distance clear, Morna whispered to Ravenna. ‘When he took hold of me and dragged me off, I thought he was going to hurt me.’

  ‘My companions, they had plans for you, and they weren’t good,’ Will whispered over his shoulder, pushing through the undergrowth. ‘I heard them talking. Morna is meat for those dogs, nothing more. They’re a ruthless bunch, the lot of them. They have bled too much already, their comrades in arms have been murdered by Scots, and they want vengeance. Any Scots woman who comes into their path will suffer for it.’

  ‘And your leader would not have stopped them? said Ravenna.

  ‘If he were here, he might try, but he has gone to the Scots camp to try to find out what the Bruce has in store for the English. He may not come back alive and, if he doesn’t, you two are fair game. I would not see that happen to you.’

  They pushed onwards into the forest, but Morna stumbled, crying out. Will wrenched her up roughly by the arm and put a hand to her mouth. ‘Can you not be quiet, even when your life depends on it?’ he snarled, voice tight with tension.

  ‘She’s frightened,’ hissed Ravenna, ‘and surely we are far enough away by now.’

  Will let Morna go, and she stomped off in front of them in a huff. Will turned to Ravenna. ‘What is he to you, Brandan?’

  Will was obviously no fool.

  ‘I loved him once when he was a Scot.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘I don’t know what he is now.’

  ‘Are you a woman scorned, Ravenna?’

  ‘I am a woman who knows what men are. They tell you one thing but mean the other. Men cannot be trusted.’

  ‘Nor can women. Morna thinks he is a stranger to you, doesn’t she?’

  ‘And I would like to keep it that way Will, please, let’s speak of him no more.’

  ‘Very well, your secret is safe with me.’

  They caught up with Morna, and Will grabbed her arm. ‘Wait,’ he said as he scanned the area clear of trees. ‘Look, there, the road south. Follow it, but stay out of sight. Go quickly.’

  ‘Are you not coming with us?’ said Morna.

  Will shook his head.

  ‘What will you do?’ asked Ravenna

  ‘Fight, I suppose.’

  ‘For which side?’

  ‘You’d better go quickly, or you’ll not reach the camp by daybreak.
Take the horse, she’s slow but steady, and here, you may need this,’ he said, handing Ravenna back her knife.

  He helped Ravenna into the saddle. As she hauled Morna up behind her, Will put both hands firmly on Morna’s bottom and pushed.

  ‘Get off me,’ she hissed.

  ‘Can’t blame a man for trying,’ he said. ‘Something to sustain me while I fight for freedom.’

  As they rode away, Morna hissed back at him, ‘So, you do mean to fight for the Scots, Will?’

  All he did was raise his hand and turn, disappearing into the darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  King Robert’s camp stretched out before Ravenna on the green field. Supply carts and tents as far as the eye could see, pillars of smoke rising from campfires, an unholy stench from the midden mingling with the smell of cooking. Dogs were barking, women and children running around frantically. So many people, so many helpless people, if this all went wrong and the camp was overrun by the English. How on earth was she to find Cormac in the middle of all this?

  A group of rough-looking men came alongside the horse and tore her from it, and Morna with her.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she snarled.

  ‘We need your horse more than you do, woman. The English are forming lines, we are to fight now, and I’ll not be on foot when we do.’ There was panic in his voice.

  ‘Take it, if you must, but tell me where I can find Laird Cormac Buchanan.’

  ‘Don’t know him,’ said the man mounting up.

  ‘He is a Laird, he would be leading men into battle.’

  ‘The King’s men are at the edge of the Carse, the other side of the Torwood, the side facing the English camp, down there.’

  He pointed across the field to where some trees marked the edge of the camp, and Ravenna grabbed Morna’s hand, and hurried towards them, winding through the melee, ignoring the people shouting and running, dousing campfires and hurriedly strapping on weapons. Morna stumbled and fell, crying out in pain.

  ‘My ankle Ravenna, aargh, I think it is broken.’

  Ravenna dragged her upright. ‘Broken or not, I have no time Morna.’

  She spotted a large group of women readying themselves for what was to come by bundling up their possessions and gathering the children close. Putting Morna’s arm around her neck, Ravenna half-dragged and half-carried the girl over to them.

  ‘Stay here, do not leave these women, you cannot be alone here. I will come back for you soon.’

  ‘But Ravenna…’

  The women looked at her quizzically, but Ravenna turned and ran for her life. She could hear Morna’s shouts getting more desperate as she left her behind. She should never have let the girl come, she had been nothing but trouble. As Ravenna glanced back at Morna’s stricken face, she saw that one of the women was approaching to help her. She chided herself for her hardness, but she could find the girl later. Now she had to get to Cormac before it was too late.

  When she drew closer to the trees, there were men everywhere, horses neighing and rearing as men tried to mount, weighed down with mail and a few with plate armour. There were bowmen and men armed with lances and shields, lining up, donning their helms. Frantically, she searched for Cormac, and then she saw it, a flash of gold, the Buchanan standard. When she hurried closer, she caught sight of a blue tunic. The man was tall and dark-haired.

  ‘Cormac,’ she yelled, running closer, but he couldn’t hear her. ‘Cormac Buchanan,’ she screamed, at the top of her lungs. He turned and his mouth fell open. He said something to the man next to him and ran to her through the mass of men swarming around him, about to go off into battle. Ravenna ran to meet him, as if her life depended on it, pushing through the throng of panicking men and jittery horses, dodging their hooves to get to him. With her lungs bursting and clutching her stomach, she got to him and threw herself against his chest. His face was frozen in shock.

  ‘What the hell…?’

  ‘Cormac, I’ve no time to explain how I came to be here, but I must tell you something…now!’

  He dragged her to one side and put his hands on her shoulders.

  Ravenna blurted out her message. ‘My father, he means to murder you, to cut you down in the battle, either himself or one of his men will do it. He thinks the English will win, and when the battle goes awry, he will withdraw his men and betray you all.’

  The shouts all around them faded away, and there was just Cormac’s face, turning from disbelief to anger to a black rage. He put his hands into the hair. ‘I knew the truce was a sham, I knew we couldn’t trust Baodan, and nor does the King, not really. I did not expect this, to turn in the middle of a battle. How do you know this?’

  ‘Alisdair told me, just before he tried to kill me.’

  ‘What, when?’

  ‘A few days ago, we have been travelling since then to get to you.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Morna is with me, she insisted on coming. She hurt her leg and is back in the camp.’

  ‘Oh God, no.’

  ‘She is safe and sound, but Ramsay, he saved my life and got stabbed. I am not sure if he will survive it.’

  ‘Ravenna, you must go back now, before the battle. Get as far away as you can, and quickly.’

  ‘I am not leaving.’

  ‘You must. I have no time, Ravenna. I cannot deal with this now, I have to go, my men are waiting for me, they are counting on me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Cormac.’

  He looked back across the field, and his face was stricken. ‘Battles are uncertain things. It may not happen as Baodan expects, and by some miracle, we may yet win.’

  ‘Aye, and if you do, my father will claim he was part of the glorious fight for Scotland, but either way, he still means to murder you. You have to stay away from him and his men, Cormac.’

  ‘Baodan is in the flanking schiltron, to the east, with Black Douglas in command. I fight in the middle, in the vanguard, so we do not fight side by side.’

  ‘The vanguard. Oh God. Does my father know the King’s plan, how he will defend himself against the English?’

  ‘The King is not defending himself Ravenna, he is going on the attack, and he is doing it now. And Baodan knows exactly where our weaknesses lie. If he turns and runs to the English side, it will weaken our flank. It may be enough to throw the balance. Battles are won or lost over such small differences, and they outnumber us three to one as it is.’

  Cormac looked back at his men mustering for battle. ‘Ravenna, I must get word to the King. I must make him believe me. Then Baodan will reap what he sows.’

  ‘But not just Baodan.’ Ravenna grabbed his arm. ‘Cormac, you know what the Bruce does to clans who betray him. He wipes them out. His vengeance knows no bounds. Look what he did to the Comyns. It was but a handful of men who betrayed him from that house, but their land is now a wasteland. He burnt the fields and homes, and he put every Comyn man, woman and child he could find to the sword. My father’s treachery has led the Gowans to this, and for that, he deserves a traitor’s death. But the rest of my clan will pay for it, over and over, in blood. Some of them are innocent women and children. I cannot have their blood on my hands, nor can you.’

  ‘If I do not expose his treachery, Ravenna, and the flank crumbles, our rear will be defenceless, they will come in from behind us and wipe us out. With this battle lost, we are lost, all of us. My family will die, Scotland will fall, and all because of your father’s treachery.’

  ‘Then the best thing is to just kill him, the first chance you get.’

  ‘You want me to kill your own father?’

  ‘He is my father no more, he is a traitor. If you get a chance, kill him.’

  ‘That is hard Ravenna, even for you.’

  ‘If I were soft, I would not still be breathing, and in times like these, what good is softness or kindness or loyalty. This is a fight to the death. If the English prevail, it will be rape and butchery for all of us Scots – the common folk that is, while the lords gr
ovel and beg and take lands in England for their forced loyalty to Edward, a weakling, a man not fit to lick your boots.’

  ‘You cannot ask this of me. I have sworn an oath to the King that I will be true to an alliance with Baodan. If I kill him, a powerful Laird, I am going against that oath, and that is treason.’

  ‘A dog has loyalty, but it does not reason. It follows blindly, whether its master is right or wrong. You can’t be a dog, Cormac. The King has put his trust in the wrong man. He does not see his treachery, and it could be his downfall. Yes, you swore an oath, but you also promised to have the King’s back, and killing my father is doing just that.’

  ‘You cannot ask this of me, Ravenna.’

  ‘I am asking you to try. Just try to stop him however you can.’

  ‘If only I had more time. The English will sound the charge within the hour if we do not. I have to go. Lyall, he is in the vanguard with me...mine to protect.’

  ‘Then protect him, but stay alive Cormac, no matter what…for me…please. I love you, with every bit of my cold heart, I love you.’

  ‘Do you mean it?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  He kissed her hard, his mouth taking hers violently, passionately, as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  ‘If you love me, as I love you, Ravenna, you must make me a promise. Leave now and don’t look back.’

  ‘No, I cannot promise that. I mean to stay, in case you are wounded and…’

  ‘If we are overrun it is the end of us. There will be no wounded to save, only meat lying out on a field for butchering. If it goes bad, and all these people try to flee, the carts will choke the road out, and the English will come from behind. The slaughter will start, they will kill anyone they can run down. Anyone found on foot who can’t get away fast enough will be put to the sword or worse.’

  ‘No…Cormac…’

  ‘We are outnumbered many times over, Ravenna. Most of the men are starving, with poor weapons, farmers many of them. If we don’t hold, we all die here, simple as that. One stroke of a sword or a horse runs into me…it is mere chance if a man survives or not. God will decide my fate, and so I can give you no safety here and no certainty, I can only order you to go and go now. I love you Ravenna, too much to have you watch me die. Go, live, bring my son safe into the world. If this is the last time we see each other, tell him who his father was, and how he died for the dream of a free Scotland.’