by Amy Isan
“Should ye at least rest tonight? The rain...”
Gavin rose to his feet. “Nay, we have to depart immediately. Any time we take to rest gives the Maxwells that much more of a chance of catching us at our lowest.”
Elyn kissed her sister on the forehead and gave her hand a squeeze good-bye. Gavin collected new furs and cloaks from his room, handing several to Elyn. She took a fur and slipped it on, tightening the stitching to fasten it to her breast. She turned the cloak outside and knotted it it on, pulling the leather hood over her head.
Gavin fastened a new leather jerkin to his body and slipped out the door to his room without a word.
He felt Elyn come up next to him in the hall. He muttered under his breath. “You know you make me look like a fool in there, in front of my own men.”
She held her chin up high. “Someone has to, Gavin MacKenzie.”
He smirked and shook his head. “Aye, I suppose you’re right.” He frowned. “I still donae like ye coming. It’s dangerous. This isn’t a band of rogues we’ll be running into like on the highlands, it’ll be a whole army if we’re unlucky.”
“I like those odds. If God has put us through this much, we’ll find another way out, won’t we?”
Chapter 13: Gavin
1540 — August 30th
Gavin and Elyn departed the castle that night, taking fresh horses along the path down to MacDonald land. The rain pelted their leather cloaks and the wind howled in their ears, but Gavin wasn’t only warmed by the fresh clothes, but the confidence being near Elyn gave him.
They had taken the most brutal the highlands could offer, and he was glad he had extra to lend to Elyn. He looked at her as the rain sheeted off her cloak and onto the horse’s rump. Gavin was nervous, but optimistic he could sway the Laird's favor. If his words couldn’t convince the MacDonalds of what treachery had been laid against them, then Elyn's testimony should be all it would take.
He just hoped it wasn’t too late. Without extra men at his side, if they ran into the MacDonald clansmen mid-march to the castle, he wasn’t sure he could convince them of very much. He needed the high authority of Richerd MacDonald himself.
“Are you sure about this?” Elyn said after Eilean Donan had slipped out of view behind them. Gavin nodded gruffly and grunted. Elyn continued, “What are you going to tell the Laird... my father?”
“I’ll tell him you’re his daughter. If I can remember the birthmark tale, he can too.”
“What if they donae believe you?”
He knitted his brow in displeasure. “I donae know.”
She rode up alongside him and slung her arm under his elbow, patting his hand. “Me neither.”
***
The hours passed with long and drawn out minutes. While the night waned on, he grew increasingly more anxious as he didn’t spy another soldier or clansmen coming towards them. He felt like a sword was hanging above his head, threatening to fall at any sudden movement, any false charge or threat. The rain petered out, leaving the heady scent of wet earth and a gentle steam rising off the grasslands. The hooves of their horses still slopped in the wet mud, making sucking noises for every stride they took down the path.
Before the sun could peek above the mountains and wash away the total darkness, they spotted the gentle glow of Strome Castle far off in the distance, laying against the horizon like a figurine. With it in sight, Gavin felt a second wind surge through him as he pushed his horse to move faster and faster. Elyn fought to keep up, still getting used to the less precise balance needed to use a saddle. The sound of her labored breathing kept his mind’s eye on her, so he felt reassured.
In the distance, the glow of a torch alerted him. He slowed the horses down with a stop that would have skidded them in dry conditions and held out his arm for Elyn to stop next to him. She slowed and brought her horse to a standstill.
“Look,” he said. He pointed at the small glow of light. “Clansmen.”
“How many?”
“I donae know. I can’t tell yet. The sunrise will make a fool of me just yet.”
He pulled off the road and leaped off his horse, beckoning Elyn to follow his example. He lowered the horses down and went prone, crawling on his hands and knees up to the small crest of the hill they were on. He peered over the top, feeling Elyn stir next to him, her elbow touching his gently.
The sun broke over the mountain and washed out the glow of the torchlight the men were using. There weren’t as many as Gavin thought.
“Maybe five or ten men. Damn.”
“What? Is that too many?”
“It’s more than I can take. We’re above them, but I donae know if we can get around them...”
“We can try.”
Elyn crawled back to her horse and patted its cheek. “I can distract them.”
“No! I need you with me. You can’t be risking yourself like that...”
“Because of my blood?”
Gavin’s temper rose. He wasn’t in the mood for her attitude, and he bit his tongue at his response. It wasn’t because he needed her for his gambit, but because he needed her in other ways, in husband ways, in lover ways. He needed her. He exhaled hot air and looked away from her. She sighed and crawled back to the ground.
“I’m sorry.”
“I just can’t imagine what would happen... Isn’t it enough I let you come?”
She knitted her brow and shifted her weight onto her hip. “What are we going to do?”
Gavin watched the small party of men come closer to their hiding spot. They were still about two hundred yards away, but there was no way the two of them would be able to hide once the small troop got close enough.
“I guess we’ll have to try our hand at convincing them. I certainly won’t be able to take them all myself.”
She huffed. “Okay then.” Gavin clenched his jaw, trying to summon up the courage to do what he had to do. What if it didn’t work? Should he just run again? He looked at Elyn and saw her preparing to fight, readjusting her furs and making sure everything was fitting snug. A fierce determination glowed in her eyes.
He needed to have that. He swallowed hard and envisioned his people being killed, Barron and Alec being murdered. Or worse, Elyn being executed as an example of what happens to anyone consorting with the MacKenzies. He shook the image away and pushed himself to his feet. He lifted his horse from the ground and climbed on. Elyn followed suit, wordlessly. Gavin could barely see it, but he could feel a change in the patrol party ahead of him. A sense of urgency moved their ranks.
He moved back onto the trail and headed down the path to meet them. He dare not race or gallop up to them, for he knew their hackles would already be raised in alarm. He needed to treat them like the fish in the loch: careful, without quick movements. Like a wild animal.
***
The party continued to march down the road as Elyn and Gavin moved toward them. Gavin swallowed hard and kept a blank look on his face as he approached them, not wanting them to become any more suspicious than they already were. They would undoubtedly assume the two of them were outsiders, but he still wasn’t quite sure they would go as far as to recognize he was a MacKenzie.
He stopped thirty feet away from the party, who followed his example and came to a halt at the same distance. The leader of the group, a man wearing thick skins and a blond beard, called out across the gap to Gavin and Elyn.
“What business do you have in MacDonald Land?”
Gavin swallowed his spit and grimaced. “I am Laird Gavin MacKenzie, and I request an audience with Your Laird.”
Before the head of the party could open his mouth, one of the younger clansmen bellowed out. “Bullshite! You’re here to kill ‘em ain’t ye?” The party leader held out his arm and blocked the young man.
Gavin shook his head. “I have some information that he’ll find very important.”
“Whose the lass?” the young highlander called out again, ignoring the head of the party. “She’s got some nice tits, I
’d like to get my hands on those.”
Elyn narrowed her eyes and shouted down the man. “Shouldn’t ye be gettin’ breast fed by your mother right now?”
“Alright, that’s enough,” the blond-bearded man shouted over the two of them as they stared daggers at each other. “You’ve come at a bad time, Laird, but you did save us the trouble of meeting you at the castle to kill you there.”
“No! I’m not here to fight!” Gavin bellowed. He reared up his horse and settled her back down. The party of clansmen all unsheathed their swords with the sickly screech of metal. A lone archer in the back nocked an arrow against his bow.
“I just want to see the Laird!” Gavin repeated, a bit more firmly this time.
“It’s gonna take more than sweet talkin’ to get us to let you past us, MacKenzie,” the archer said. He pulled back the bow and took aim at Gavin.
Elyn smacked her horse and pushed Gavin aside, galloping up in front of him. Gavin yelled as the archer let his arrow loose, the thick, sharp point barreling through the sky with a whistle as it struck Elyn’s side, knocking her from her saddle and throwing her to the ground with a thud. Gavin fumbled with his reins as he leaped off his horse and yelled out in fury, kneeling next to her and gathering her in his arms.
She was still breathing, but it was ragged. The fall had knocked her unconscious. He looked up from her and frowned, clenching his jaw as he stared the archer and his men down. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
He rose to his feet as they gathered themselves from their shock. Gavin unsheathed his sword and ran into the party, blinded by his own rage. He dragged his sword for a moment against the ground before lifting it overhead and cracking it down on one of the men’s shields, splintering it from the man’s arm.
The party leader gasped as the patrol rearranged themselves around Gavin, who was ready to fight them tooth and nail. “Do you know who you just shot?!” Gavin said, huffing as he regained his voice, his arms sore from the blow.
The men in the patrol were stunned. The archer finally spoke, his voice weak and weary in contrast to his arrogant tone from earlier. “Who?”
“Richerd MacDonald's missing daughter.”
The men’s eyes swept from Gavin to her and stopped. The party leader’s voice was caught in this throat, but Gavin spoke for him.
“If you donae take me to the Laird right now, his only daughter will die. Even if you do kill me and storm my castle, I’ll make sure he knows it. I’ll make sure that when Laird Richerd finds out one of you fuckin’ dogs killed his daughter, he’ll string you up from the ramparts by the skin of your ankles.”
The archer began to cry, his ugly sobs streaming tears down his face. The blond-bearded highlander shook his head and nodded to Gavin. “We’ll take you to the castle.” Turning to the other men, “Gather her up, but be gentle. And donae take the arrow out.”
Gavin strapped his sword back onto his shoulders and went to Elyn. He knelt down and slipped his arms under her. “I’ll take her, just clear the way. Bring the horse.”
Holding her with one arm, he grabbed the saddle horn and threw himself back on his horse. He clicked his tongue for the horse to move as he gripped Elyn tight in his arms, watching her breathing for any changes. Her wound was bleeding, but not as bad as it could have. He couldn’t risk anything though, he had to get her help as soon as possible.
As his horse lunged forward down the road, the MacDonald clansmen parted a path and let him slip by, before turning and following him at full speed. He couldn’t engage another group coming into the castle, he needed their word to vouch for his and Elyn’s safety.
***
Gavin and the clansmen burst through the gates of the castle walls. He dismounted and the men followed suit, forming a wall around him as they moved through the open gates to the castle keep and toward the throne room. Elyn stirred a bit, wincing in pain as she began to wake up. Gavin shushed her cries of pain and reassured her that they would get help soon, that everything would be okay. He brushed the hair off her face and held her close, feeling the pounding of her heart in panic as he ascended up the carpeted stone steps, pushing his way past the guards outside the throne room and beckoning for the attention of Laird Richerd MacDonald.
The Laird rose from the seat as Gavin charged in. His patrol followed closely behind, the door slamming shut with a loud thud.
“What is the meaning of this?” Laird MacDonald asked the men coming up behind Gavin. “Who is this?” Lady MacDonald started from her seat, but Richerd pressed her back down with his arm. “Let me handle this.”
Gavin stumbled down the hall toward the Laird. “You donae know who I am?” Venom dripped from his voice.
“Your tartan... MacKenzie. What are you waiting for, seize him!” The Laird pointed wildly to Gavin, ignoring the woman in his arms.
Moira MacDonald stood at last and narrowed her eyes on Gavin. “You’re a damn fool to show your face here, especially after accusing us of killing your father — not that he didn’t deserve it...”
Gavin shook his head violently, resisting the urge to snap back at the Lady. He stopped yards away from the two seats of power, standing defiantly in the face of the two clan leaders. Gavin was sure he looked frenzied to them, but he tried to keep his voice steady and thorough. “Donae you want to know what happened to your daughter?”
Richerd was caught off guard by the comment. He glanced at Moira before replying. “I donae have a daughter. You should know that much. Guards, seize him!”
“That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell ye!” Gavin spat. “She’s right here! Your daughter, who went missing all those years ago, is right here!”
“Impossible,” Richerd said, his voice beginning to betray his conviction.
Gavin knelt to the ground, lowering Elyn carefully and minding the arrow jutting from her side. “The missing MacDonald daughter had a birthmark, didnae she?”
Richerd shook his head with disbelief, “Yes, I distinctly remember the shape. It looked like Strome Loch. God, Himself, must’ve had an artistic hand in her creation.”
Gavin looked down at Elyn and saw her staring at a darkly dressed man in the corner of the room. Gavin cast a quick glance at him and tried to note the look in his eyes. The man didn't look at Gavin or the guards that had funneled in behind him, but his eyes stared straight at Elyn. Gavin thought maybe he was worried about her injury. He turned back to the Laird and the Lady.
“See for yourself,” Gavin carefully folded over Elyn’s dress, making sure to not expose her unchastely. The birthmark was visible above her left knee, and Richerd’s grimace vanished immediately. His voice cracked as he shouted for the guards to take her to see a doctor and get treated. The patrol party behind Gavin surrounded him and picked Elyn up, carrying her out of the room. Gavin watched her as she rolled around in their arms, feeling desperate to be with her.
“Stay here, Gavin MacKenzie. We have a lot to discuss, I imagine.”
Gavin turned to face the Laird again. “Aye. That we do.” The door to the throne room clunked open and closed as the men left them alone.
“My daughter... is alive,” Richerd said slowly, in disbelief. He turned to Moira, “Our daughter is alive.” Richerd collapsed back in his seat. He reached and grasped Moira’s hand, threading his fingers with hers.
Gavin spoke quickly. “Maxwell’s been playing you for a fool this whole time. He’s been playing both of our families for fools. He was the one who orchestrated the kidnapping of your daughter. I’m afraid he’s the one who killed my father as well. I had to come before you marched on Eilean Donan Castle, before it was too late.”
Richerd held his hand to his forehead, as if he had gained a sudden fever. “But, why? Why would he do all this?”
“To weaken our bonds, to weaken us as a people. He wants to divide and conquer Scotland, make her his own. He’s already close to the King, manipulating his thoughts and words. If it wasn’t for your daughter, I’d have never made it here. She’s
as fierce as any MacDonald I’ve ever met, I should have known the moment I met her. She has a fire burning in her.” He shook his head, “Nay, something greater, stronger yet.”
He continued, “Now we have one chance to stop this madness. Without a doubt, Laird Maxwell already started the attack on my castle and my people. We are weakened, hungry and angry, but we can’t do it alone. Richerd and Moira MacDonald —” Gavin lowered himself to a knee, unsheathing his sword and laying it on the carpet before him, he hung his head, “The MacKenzie Clan needs your help... I need your help.”
Richerd nodded gruffly and squeezed his wife’s hand. He rose from his seat and called for a captain of his army. The darkly clad man stepped forward from his perch near the Laird. “Yes, sire?” His accent was indistinct.
“Change of plans, Mathou, you’ll march to Eilean Donan Castle,” Richerd shot a look to Gavin, “but Laird Gavin MacKenzie will lead the charge. We seem to have a common enemy.”
“Who?”
“Robert Maxwell’s clansmen.”
Mathou nodded in acknowledgement.
“Can I see Elyn first?” Gavin asked, looking from Mathou to Richerd and Moira. Moira shook her head.
“She needs to rest. You have a battle to take care of. You should depart sooner than later.”
Gavin’s heart sank. He couldn’t bear the thought of not saying good bye to her. Was she going to stay with the MacDonalds? Did he inadvertently take her here to only leave her forever? He furrowed his brow and tried to reel his mind around how he could solve the dilemma.
If he should stay and let Mathou take lead of the charge, if he should take care of his people. He tried to think of what Elyn would tell him to do. He nodded grimly, knowing the answer. She’d want him to take care of his people. Of his family.
“No. I need to talk with ye first, your Grace.”
Richerd raised his eyebrow. “What about?”
“Your daughter. She's been with me the entire trip from Eilean Donan to Castle Iverlochy and during the time I've learned a great deal. One of the things is how much she matters to me. I will lead the march back to Eilean Donan, but I’ve grown to love her, deeply. I'll come back for her, if you'll have me.”
