Thom snorted, disgusted with himself. He needed to wipe her completely from his mind. He needed to forget that he even considered a future with her. But as he made his resolve to move on with his life, his grip tightened around the jewel. The sensations he experienced last night were incredible. He believed that she shared the sentiments. He judged that he was enough for her, but apparently he wasn’t — just like he wasn’t enough for his father either. Lifting his arm, he pitched the brooch into the bushes with as much force as he could muster.
“Ye are such an ass,” he said aloud, his voice ringing in the empty clearing. Off in the distance the sky rumbled as if to agree with his assessment.
He shoved his fingers through his hair, unable to forget his misguided feelings. At first he was amused at her attempts at enticement. But his amusement vanished when she no longer tried to seduce him. And by acting as her authentic self, she had thrown him off kilter. Her musical laughter lightened his heart, and her brilliant smiles made him want to beam back at her. In the end he fell hard for her.
She was only using ye, the voice inside him whispered.
It was true. In the end she achieved what she set out to do, which was to manipulate him for her own gain. Powerless to stop it, the thought brought bitterness to surge to his gullet. Intellectually, he knew that she owed him nothing. But this realization couldn’t prevent the betrayal, disappointment, hurt and anger from surfacing. Every single one of those emotions choked at his heart. And all the tender feelings that she evoked in him were a sham. It was a mistake to open himself up, and allow himself to indulge in these soft, undesirable sentiments. He needed to go back to the place where he felt nothing, the place where he was before he met her. At least then he wouldn’t feel the pain that now wrenched at his gut. But even though he wanted to forget her, he knew that she had already fled with a piece of his soul. Alas he could never have her because she loved another. She had always loved another, and he was deranged to think he even had a chance with her.
Thom dug into his saddlebag in search for the map, but for some reason he couldn’t find the worn parchment. Digging deeper into the pouch, his fingers encountered several loose coins. He let out a loud curse. Mairead was the only person who would have put the money there. She was also the only one who would dare steal the map. But by now she was long gone.
As the dark reflections weaved in and out of his mind, he stood in one spot, staring as the dull light broke through the trees. All the while a multitude of heavy feelings crushed down on him, making him numb. He didn’t know how long he remained in that position, but he pulled out of his stupor when he felt a drop of rain on his head. Raising his eyes, he saw the dark clouds through the bare branches. In a matter of minutes the rain would pour down on him. Even though he was aware of this, he made no hurry to gather his supplies. He wanted to experience the punishing rain, and perhaps allow it to drown out any feelings he still held for the lass.
Unfortunately the tree cover kept the better part of the downpour from reaching him. Clenching his fists, he took in a deep breath and got up. At the moment he only felt cold fury. He would use this emotion, and draw upon it so that he could complete his task. Once he annihilated Lester MacLeaburn, he could then continue to live his miserable life.
As he emerged from the forest, the rain fell harder, obscuring his vision. Yet despite the relentless downpour, he refused to seek protection from the rain. Instead he pushed his stallion ahead at a steady clip.
Thom scanned the horizon, noting the mountainous region. Of course, he was annoyed that Mairead stole the map from him, but if he was honest with himself, he didn’t really need the directions. Bracken Ridge was chosen because of its advantageous positioning. Only people familiar with the landscape would know of its existence, for it had the appearance of any other mountain range. The Highlanders would be at the top of the ridge, and from that vantage point, they would have a bird’s eye view of the narrow valley underneath. The English would go through this passage, and would have no idea what awaited them. The Highlanders already had the particulars that hundreds of English knights were about to invade Scottish soil. With those numbers, the enemy would proceed slowly across the rugged terrain. If they didn’t bring enough food supplies with them, they would have trouble obtaining sustenance since game was scarce at this time of year. And since the weather in Scotland was temperamental, Thom predicted that the English would find difficulty in traversing the land. From their long expedition, they would be exhausted and hungry. Perhaps many of them would fall sick, and die from the damp and ill conditions of the camps. In their weakened state, they would be easy to kill off. And so when that period arrived, Thom would set aside his distaste for fighting, and help thwart the English once and for all.
But that time hadn’t come just yet. As far as Thom was aware, no alarm had sounded to warn them about the enemy’s approach. However this was hardly surprising. He suspected that because of their size, the English army would take weeks or even months to arrive at the ambush point. In the meantime there was opportunity for the Highlanders to prepare for the inevitable clash. And when the English materialized, they would be forcefully driven back to their side of the border. But first thing was first. Thom needed to deal with Lester. After that, he would seek out his father at his camp, and tell him what he had done. No doubt his father would be stunned to see him, but it was necessary for the laird to comprehend that he had sent an innocent lamb to slaughter. And Roderick MacCullvin needed to live with that guilt. Thom clenched his teeth and set his sights straight ahead. He fully intended to carry out his plan. And if he became injured or killed from trying to achieve his mission, then so be it.
Chapter 17
“Do ye have the map?” Makolm asked.
Mairead looked up, startled at hearing the sound of the scholar’s voice. “’Tis in the saddlebag,” she said, getting up to retrieve it.
As she reached into the sack, her fingers touched a wooden object. She took it out, and saw it was the trinket box that Thom had given her. It was greased with animal fat so it repelled moisture. Even in the dim light, she could make out the delicate rose in bloom. But she was reminded that Thom had intended this pretty container for Cristiona of Drumgaff. Since they left the campsite, her mind had drifted over to the messenger more times than she could count.
She replaced the box and drew out the map. For a brief second she peered out at the dismal landscape before her. At the moment they were stuck in their refuge until the storm passed. As much as she wished it, the weather did little to help her mood or her restlessness. She could hear the rain splattering over the rocks, the sounds echoing the depressing thoughts that nagged at her.
The horse shifted slightly as a crash of lightning lit the sky. She gave the beast a reassuring pat on its neck before returning to Makolm.
The scholar took the parchment from her hand, and tilted it so that he had enough light to examine it. She sat down beside him.
“According tae the directions, the military camps should be somewhere here,” Makolm pointed to a small section near the bottom of the sheepskin. “And from what I can tell, we must be here.”
“It disnae seem verra far,” she said, surveying the map. “We just have tae wait until the weather clears. Hopefully it’ll be soon.” Dropping her chin to her knees, she hugged them close to her while she peered out through the opening between the rocks. The rain continued to come down relentlessly and without mercy.
“What do ye think will happen tae Thom?” she asked, changing the subject. “I tried tae persuade him that he should abandon his plan for revenge, but I dinnae think I was too successful.”
“That’s unfortunate. I doubt that he’s completely recovered from his injury. While he might be able tae defend himself, he’ll be nay match for an able-bodied and seasoned warrior.”
The candor in Makolm’s tone caused a chill to run through her. “The knife wound had weakened Thom, and if he fights, he will tire easily. Is this nae sae?”
Mairead swallowed at the gravity of Makolm’s observation. Before this, she had never feared for Thom’s life because she believed him to be a competent fighter. However he was still recovering from his wound. And if the man he planned to confront had no qualms about killing his wife, then he was likely to be a dishonorable combatant. She clenched her fists in helpless fear and worry. Why didn’t she try harder to sway Thom from his plan of vengeance?
But then she got a grip on herself. Thom was a man, and he could make his own decisions. If he decided to seek revenge, then that was his prerogative. And if something happened to him… Mairead shook her head. It was firm on her mind that she needed to stop thinking about the messenger. She had to focus on her own life.
A short while later the rain slowed and then stopped completely. She pulled the excess plaid over her shoulders, and was eager to leave the shelter. If they tarried, they might reach the war camps by nightfall. If that happened, it would be near impossible to maneuver around the unfamiliar encampment in the dark. She didn’t want to wait until the next morning to meet Blane.
The dark cloud mass moved further behind them as they traveled closer to their destination. When they entered the military camps a few hours later, she could make out multiple makeshift shelters. Any one of those tents could be housing Blane. And any one of them could contain the MacGregon brothers. Her gut twisted at that thought, but she didn’t want to consider her brothers or their wrath.
Makolm led her to a spot that was on the outskirts of the camps. From this angle, she could observe different pockets of activity.
“Wait there,” he said, indicating to the wizened rowan tree that stood a few paces away from them.
“Perhaps I should find him on my own,” she said with a little uncertainty. The scholar looked distracted, and she no longer wanted to impose on him.
“Nay, ‘tis best that ye remain here. I’m going tae seek my clansmen, but I’ll locate your Blane as well.”
“All right,” she said, relieved that he still planned to help her. Walking over to the tree, she obediently went there to wait. The tree wasn’t as large as the ones in the forest, but it provided enough cover in case someone glanced in her direction. Once again she was grateful that she wore Thom’s kilt. The muted colors of the plaid allowed her to easily blend in with her surroundings.
Her gaze tracked Makolm’s familiar figure as he went from one camp to another. Finally a man who the scholar spoke with pointed to the far end of the encampment. Mairead squinted as she followed the line of his gesture. Regrettably from this distance, she couldn’t tell who camped in the area. It could be Blane, or it could be someone else. But if it was Blane…
Mairead blew out an unsteady stream of air as she tried to find her equilibrium. She only had to persuade Blane to marry her, she reminded herself. That shouldn’t be hard. She had already reviewed the meeting hundreds of times in her mind. There was no reason for the anxious flutter in her stomach. But even though she tried to convince herself of this, her nervousness persisted.
It didn’t help matters that she had to wait for Makolm’s return. She had to think of something else to distract herself. The image of Thom entered her head. And then guilt assaulted her. By now the messenger would realize that she had left the campsite with the scholar. And he would be angry. There was no doubt about that.
Mairead shook her head, disgusted with herself. Why should she care about what the man felt? He was only a runner that had escorted her to her destination. She had already paid him for his services. And when she asked him to help her with the ways of seduction, he had agreed. So why should she care whether he was in love with a dead woman? He should mean nothing to her. Except he did. The memory of that whispered name still caused a stab of pain to jolt through her heart. She knew firsthand how passionate, honorable, and strong Thom was, and Mairead wished that instead of Cristiona, she was his sole focus of his affections.
Leaning her head on the tree trunk, she sighed. Of all people, Thom was the last person she was supposed to feel attached to. She could only attribute her pain to the inexperience she had with men. Still, she knew that she was unlikely to encounter him once she returned to Tancraig Castle, and that realization made her sad. But there was no point in dwelling in the sorrow. Once again, she reminded herself that it was best that she terminated all thoughts about Thom, and concentrate on Blane — even if her excitement at seeing him had diminished.
Mairead directed her regard on a cluster of women who worked at a cooking station at one of the war camps. Few men brought their wives with them because it was so dangerous. As far as she could guess, these women were camp followers who traveled and comforted the warriors during periods of combat.
Off to another side was an area that was reserved for training. Groups of men were engaged in mock combat. They fought each other as ferociously as if they were enemies. A howl of pain nearby caught her attention. Reluctantly she peered over in the direction, and saw a haggard surgeon bending over an injured man. Mairead knew that during war, surgeons were on hand to treat those who were wounded. She winced and looked away. There was a slash of red across the wounded man’s chest, and a bloody claymore lay next to him. A brawny Highlander stood nearby, worry and guilt etched on his young features. Even though warfare wasn’t in full effect, men were already being hurt. What would happen when it became an all-out battle? The idea of it made her ill. She had lived a life that was for too sheltered, she realized. She had imagined that the warriors wandered at their leisure, and found great amusement in their travels. But she now knew that this wasn’t the case. For once, the reality of impending conflict hit her with full force. Suddenly her problems seemed miniscule. All this time she had ignored the consequences of war, but the conflict was coming whether she was ready for it or not. An air of uneasy anticipation permeated the military camps. When the struggle finally arrived, the clash would be horrendous, and many lives would be lost. There was a very real chance that she would know some of those who would fall. A cold sweat ran down her back. Those men might even be her kin. What was she doing here? This was no place for a female. Griogair had warned her of this, and she had refused to believe him. She had longed for freedom to see her beloved country, although the last thing she wanted was to bear witness to massacre and ruin.
The crunching of feet startled her out of her thoughts, and her hand automatically reached for the dagger at her belt. She recognized that there were reivers in the camps, and from what she knew, those men weren’t trustworthy. Whether or not they were allies, they would rob a person blind if the opportunity arose.
“’Tis ye,” she said, letting out a breath of relief when she saw Makolm’s familiar countenance.
“Of course ‘tis me. Who were ye expecting? Thom perhaps?” he asked lightly.
“Let’s nae talk about him.” She gave him a sharp look, not liking the amused gleam in his eyes. “Were ye able tae locate Blane?”
“Aye,” he nodded, “you’ll find him on the south-eastern side of the camps. He’s there with his clansmen. ’Tis strange that there are sae few men with him though. A typical clan usually number in the hundreds.”
“He used tae be a part of Clan MacGregon,” she shrugged. “Perhaps he’s joined another tribe.” She finally knew where Blane was situated. The only thing now was for her to go to him. “Thank ye, Makolm. Without ye I would have had difficulty in locating him.”
“’Tis nay trouble, lass,” he said. “Ye go and see your Blane. Meanwhile I’m off tae reunite with my people.”
She barely noticed when Makolm went in the opposite direction. Even though she was still nervous, her heart also pumped in anticipation. She took a step toward the campsite. It was now or never.
Chapter 18
Mairead saw Blane’s tent several paces ahead.
“He’s inside the shelter, just right there. Ye have already practiced the speech with M
akolm,” she muttered to herself. “Ye are here now. Go talk tae him.”
She started to take another step when she spun around. She wasn’t ready! Clenching her fists, she repeated her affirmations with desperate fervor.
After a few more minutes of convincing herself, she gathered her courage to step forth. But as she entered the site, something caused her to pause and furrow her brows in confusion. There were a few men gathered around the dead firepit. One large man was busy splitting wood. But while he backed her, there was no mistaking his muscular, solid frame.
“Thom?” she whispered, her heart skipping a beat. All the memories of the night before came flooding back. Meanwhile her thoughts of meeting Blane flew her mind. At that instant all she wanted to remember was the happiness she felt when she was in Thom’s arms. Joy rose to her heart, and she almost forgot that he had affections for another woman. But then her elation turned to perplexity. How and why was Thom here at Blane’s campsite? Perhaps he had come to blend in with the other warriors. And then when he had his chance, he would make his way to Lester MacLeaburn, and murder him… A cold finger of dread streaked down her spine. There was no other explanation.
A fatigued warrior in conflict makes careless and often fatal mistakes, Makolm had said. She was reminded that the gash that Thom sustained in Greenbrae village made him vulnerable. All instincts shouted that she should warn him of the terrible mistake the he was about to make. Even though she couldn’t have him, she cared too much for him to see him die.
Mairead rushed out to the center of the campsite.
“Thom,” she called out. When he didn’t respond, she raised her voice and spoke louder. “We have tae talk.”
A man who honed his claymore by the dead fire looked up at her call. “Donnell, I think the lad’s talking tae ye.”
The large man pivoted and frowned when he saw her. “What do ye want?”
Her mouth dropped open in shock when she realized that it wasn’t Thom. It was someone else.
Highland Messenger (Scottish Strife Series Book 4) Page 13
