He shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. I don’t recall her being overly friendly with anyone.” He stopped, thinking over her words. His mind was moving slowly but he had to force himself to stay awake and alert. Do what he could to help. “What about DeFry? Could it have been him?”
“I suppose ’tis possible, but I think not. I didn’t recognize the man’s voice, and I think I would have recognized DeFry’s.”
“And Percy’s dead, if I recall correctly.”
“Aye, he’ll not be bothering us again.”
About an hour later, Alick and Chrissa both slowed their horses. Chrissa pointed, “They should be on the other side of this hill. I heard them mention this place. Gallow Hill is a common place for the Ramsays to meet with the Grants.”
Drostan pointed off to the side. “Mayhap ’twould be best for us to approach the hill through those trees. I don’t hear sounds of battle, which is good, but we also don’t wish to run into the pair of villains who are out to kill us. Did you not say they’d have their own men here?”
“Go through there,” Derric said, pointing to a pass. “’Tis the best way.”
She nodded, taking her horse slowly through it. As they made their way through the trees, she gasped at the sight in front of them. A sea of warriors in red plaids, some standing, some on horseback, covered the landscape, banners being held near the front of the line. She could make out her uncle Jamie in front.
Warriors began to shout, pointing at the warriors in blue plaids as they headed toward them. “Look, Alick. The Ramsays are arriving. And another set of warriors will sneak in between the two sides. We have to stop them.”
They continued toward the front of the line and ran into Uncle Connor. “You are hale, Chrissa? Your mother will be pleased.”
“We’re weak but will be fine. I overheard the villains talking. They admitted to sending missives meant to trick our clans to attack each other. We were set up to try to kill the Ramsays. Is Uncle Jamie in charge? I must tell him.”
Connor said, “Aye, Jamie’s in front with Magnus. We’ll stop this before it starts. You and Derric go to Jamie. Alick, Els, and I will go to Torrian and Lachlan.”
“Go,” Drostan said as she tugged on the reins of their horse and flew forward, heading straight for her uncle.
“Uncle Jamie! Uncle Jamie! Stop! Please listen to me.”
Jamie Grant was chatting with Magnus, another of his men, though it seemed more like an argument. “Chrissa?” he said in bewilderment. “I’ve never been more relieved to see you. You are hale?”
“Aye, but listen to me, please.”
“Just a moment. We have a serious situation here.” He turned back to his second and said, “We’ll not raise arms against them. I will not waiver from that.”
Magnus barked, “You have to fight or they’ll destroy us. It could be a ruse, but to not defend ourselves is asking for a massacre.”
“They’ll not attack us. I’ll not raise arms against Clan Ramsay. No matter what the situation. The missive is probably not true anyway. I can tell from looking at those men, no matter how distant they are, that there’s not an Englishman among them.”
“What if ’tis a different clan in Ramsay plaids? The missive came from Robert the Bruce. You have to believe him.”
“I don’t,” Jamie roared.
Chrissa dismounted and ran between the two men, shoving her uncle. “I overheard the conspirators talking about this. ’Tis a ruse, but they have two score men who will attack both clans to start a battle. They’re here to fuel the fury.”
“What?” Jamie and Magnus both stared at her in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
“The same people who kidnapped Drostan and me are trying to overtake Grant Castle. There is much more to their plan, but they spoke of this ruse. The missives were lies. They did not come from Robert the Bruce, but there are men here who will start killing your men if you don’t defend yourselves. I know not how they’re dressed.”
“Magnus, gain your horse and go around to meet up with the Ramsay warriors. Tell them what we learned. Looks like Torrian, Lachlan, and Kyle are leading their group.”
“No need,” Chrissa said. “Alick, Uncle Connor, and Els are over there with them.”
Magnus took off without a backward glance.
“Too late. It doesn’t matter. What else can you tell me about them?” Jamie said.
“One of them is Drostan’s mother. I don’t know who the other man is, but their goal is to overtake the castle while our warriors are being slaughtered here and at Stirling Castle.”
“In other words, they’re counting on the English winning. That’s their first mistake.”
“I hope you’re right. But you have to stop those men from striking our warriors down.”
“Magnus will handle it. I’ve already given our men orders not to raise their swords against any Ramsays. Our warriors will know who to strike.”
“And the Ramsays?” she asked. “Did Torrian say the same?”
“Our clanmates are over there,” Uncle Jamie said. “If there’s one thing you must learn in battle, ’tis to trust your clanmates.”
Drostan, who had not yet spoken, said, “The answer to your prayers is coming this way.”
“What?” Jamie asked. “Which way?”
“Alasdair, Dyna, and John are coming.” He pointed to a line of riders, all dressed in black, entering the area between the two clans.
Jamie’s eyes widened. “I know my vision isn’t what it used to be, but is that truly John between Dyna and Alasdair? If so, I guess the sapphire sword finally has a new protector. I knew there was a special reason Avelina came with Logan. There’s the reason.”
“John?”
“Aye,” Jamie said. “If my eyes don’t deceive me, he’s holding the sapphire sword right now. Papa gave me an inkling of what was to come, but didn’t say it directly, which meant he didn’t wish for everyone to know. But there’s proof of it. Avelina brought it to your grandsire so he could choose the next bearer, and he must have made his decision.”
Chrissa nodded, a smile crossing her face. “I recall Grandpapa’s tales of this, though I didn’t believe it to be true. I thought ’twas just a tale, but it really exists. ’Tis an odd size for a sword, though it fits him fine.”
“The sapphire sword,” Jamie whispered.
Dyna, John, and Alasdair rode toward them, the moment solemn. As they drew near, Alasdair said, “Avelina received a message after she delivered the sword to Grandsire. Said we would be needed here. A small group is trying to take out our two clans. Chrissa, you and Drostan are hale?”
Chrissa nodded furiously. “There are two score men in hiding who plan to come out and start killing men from both clans, hoping to initiate a clan war based on the false missives they’ve already received.”
“But they didn’t count on us being such strong allies,” Jamie said with ferocious determination. “They didn’t realize that neither clan would raise a sword against the other.”
Shouts carried to them and they followed the din. A group of men emerged from the far side of the forest, behind the first line of Ramsay warriors. They started attacking both sides. They wore plaids that were poor imitations of the Ramsay and Grant colors, easily identifiable to any true Scot.
John Alexander Grant lifted the sapphire sword into the sky at the same moment Dyna lifted her bow, and the Grants and Ramsays released their war whoops and went after the attackers. The sky lit up with lightning bolts, hitting nearby trees, killing enemies on horseback, and sending horses into a panic.
They fought the men easily, Dyna and Ashlyn’s arrows taking several of them out before they could cause any trouble. Chrissa grabbed her bow and joined in, shooting at men she was sure didn’t belong. Thunder roared through the area as more lightning bolts struck, hitting human targets as well as inanimate objects. But this was no natural lightning, for none of the Ramsays or Grants were struck.
The battle ended in a mat
ter of minutes, eliciting cheers from both Clan Ramsay and Clan Grant, whose warriors met in the middle around the dead.
Torrian, Lachlan, and Kyle made their way over to the Grant side, Lachlan shouting, “I’ve never seen lightning fork out of the sky like that.”
“Aye,” Kyle agreed, “the power is fascinating to watch.”
Connor looked at Jamie, quite serious, and asked, “You are hale? That display did not trigger any memories for you?”
Jamie shook his head. “Nay, I’m fine. I’ve been over that for a while now. Unless I happen to be the one at the highest points on a mountaintop, I can handle it.”
Torrian came up and clasped Uncle Jamie’s shoulder. “I don’t know who was behind this trickery, but please know my warriors had instructions not to use their weapons against any Grant warriors.”
“The same is true of our side,” Jamie said. “Magnus got a wee bit nervous, thinking we were about to be slaughtered by a different clan wearing your plaids, but Chrissa came at just the right time.”
“And do you know who wrote the missives?” Torrian asked.
“Nay, but we will find out. Chrissa, are you and Drostan traveling to Stirling with us?”
“We had planned to, but Drostan took an injury in captivity. He needs a healer more talented than I am.”
“How did you get free?”
Chrissa glanced at Drostan and said, “We’re still unsure. Someone left our cell unlocked, and we snuck out. We were followed by a small group led by a sheriff named Percy. We killed them before they could kill us, but Drostan lost quite a bit of blood. He isn’t strong enough for battle, and I’m not sure that I am either. We ate little and slept less. I’d like to return to Grant Castle to tell them what to expect.” She shot a glance at Drostan. “Drostan’s mother is one of them.”
Jamie asked, “Your mother? When was the last time you saw her? I thought she left years ago.”
“She did,” Drostan replied. “Apparently she has some other agenda now, working with some unsavory characters. We don’t know who her accomplices are other than Percy, but he’s gone. DeFry was there, also. Could he be a spy and be the one who left our cell unlocked?”
“Alasdair trusts DeFry. We’ll have to be alert. I’m sorry to hear about your mother, but don’t let her actions upset you. ’Twill not reflect badly on you at all.”
Drostan let out an audible sigh of relief. Laird Jamie had no idea how much he appreciated that comment. “I suspect she’ll go after my sire. I need to warn him.”
“Aye, I understand.” Jamie turned to Chrissa. “You’re one of our finest archers. Go with Drostan and tell our family all that has transpired, but come join us once you do. The Bruce needs you. But Drostan, I’ll not have you come with her. You need to stay home until your injury is healed. I want no dead warriors from Clan Grant for any reason.”
Drostan hated the thought of sending Chrissa off to battle without him, but Jamie was right about everything. “Aye, I’m not capable of riding a horse into battle.”
Chrissa gave him a swift hug, then Jamie lifted her onto her horse. Alasdair and the others were just joining them.
“Well done,” Jamie said to the group. “Are you headed to Stirling?”
“Aye, we are,” Alasdair replied.
Drostan managed to climb up behind Chrissa. “We’ll take our leave. I may not be able to ride a horse into battle, but I can certainly use my sword when on my feet. Once I’ve improved, we have a score to settle with our captors, and I’ll take pleasure in seeing it done. But not until after I see to my sire.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chrissa couldn’t help but smile at the reception they returned to at Grant Castle, the reception she’d always dreamed of having one day, but she hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Obviously they’d been missed. Plenty of guards manned the gate and the curtain wall, something else that pleased her. Once they reached the gates, the portcullis was raised, and cheering rose up all around them. Taking her horse inside the wall, she stopped at the gate. “Have you seen Drostan’s mother?”
“Nay. And no one has entered that we don’t know.”
That small reassurance made her feel better. She took her horse directly to the stairs, where her parents stood waiting.
“You’re hale, daughter?” her sire called out.
“Aye, Papa. Weak, hungry, dirty, and tired, but I’ll be fine. Drostan didn’t fare so well. He took an injury and lost quite a bit of blood.” Drostan dismounted and nearly fell over, so her father helped her down.
She was pleased to see her father stood to anchor Drostan, whose skin was now pale and clammy. Anyone who looked at him would know he was struggling.
Her mother gave her a quick hug before shifting her attention to Drostan. “You need to go straight to the healer’s chamber.”
Drostan didn’t say anything. He just stood still for a moment, apparently gaining his bearings. “I’ll go as soon as my head stops spinning.”
“Mama, I’ll take him there. Follow along and I’ll explain everything.”
Her mother gave her a swift hug, then Chrissa looped her arm through Drostan’s and said, “’Tis a chamber off the hall. You remember, do you not?”
He nodded, but first he turned to her father. “Watch for my mother. One of our captors was my mother, though I’m not convinced she’ll follow me here.”
Her father said, “Your mother’s been gone a long time. Are you certain it was her? And why would she kidnap the two of you?”
“I saw her, Papa. It was his mother. I also heard them say why, but I’ll explain in a few moments.
Fortunately, he accepted that her first concern was Drostan, because he said, “I’ll make sure everyone is aware of the situation. We all knew her,” Da said, walking off before Chrissa could tell him she already had.
They walked into the hall, conversation buzzing around them, eyes on them.
“Who else dared to steal you away?” Chrissa’s mother asked. Plenty of fire danced in her gaze as she said it.
Grandsire sat in a chair by the hearth, but he stood abruptly from his chair as they neared him. Leaning on a stick of wood, he said, “Chrissa, you are unhurt? I can see with my own eyes that Chisholm is hurting. If you gained that injury protecting my lass, you have all of my gratitude, lad.”
“Aye, Grandpapa, I’m fine. And he did protect me. Honestly, I’m too exhausted to speak of all that transpired,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. She could feel her strength waning and couldn’t imagine how Drostan was managing.
“Who? I want names, Chrissa. Tell me who, then go to the healer. Both of you.”
“Grandsire, Percy and DeFry were there, along with a Drostan’s mother. Drostan killed Percy, but someone unlocked our cell, basically setting us free. Our weapons and horses were waiting for us. Mayhap DeFry is loyal to the Scots after all? We don’t know. But I overheard Drostan’s mother scheming with a man whose voice I didn’t recognize. He said he is known here well enough to gain access through the gates, but ’twas not DeFry. ’Tis the important part for now. I’ll explain the rest later. We’ve already told Papa about Drostan’s mother’s involvement but keep watch.”
Then she led Drostan into the chamber, where he fell into a chair. Her mother and Aunt Gracie came in right behind them. Aunt Gracie took one look at the two of them and said, “Chrissa, get some food for yourself first, then bring something for Drostan before I tend to his wound.”
She kissed his forehead then left. Heading straight to the kitchens, she ran into her sire, who said, “Get what you need and meet us by the hearth.” Meaning her grandsire.
She stepped into the kitchens, but she didn’t make it very far before she saw a chair and tumbled into it. Bending at the waist, she held her head in her hands, letting the tears fall. They’d made it home, she and Drostan were both hale, and somehow they’d escaped captivity. It felt too good to be true, like a dream she wished to stay in.
But there was
more.
She was in love with Drostan. Did he remember exchanging those words with her, or had he forgotten, like she’d forgotten their pledge to each other all those years ago? She hoped he did remember—she knew the moment would be burned into her brain forever. She mulled over all that had happened, finally working up the necessary motivation to find some food and goat’s milk. After instructing a serving lass to bring the same to her mother in the healer’s chamber, she made her way back to the hearth. The two men she loved dearly allowed her to sit and eat before they pressed her for anything.
Finally her father whispered, “You’re in love with him, are you not?”
She just nodded, surprised he would ask her that question, but gratified he recognized the new closeness between them.
Grandsire said, “Are you getting married soon?”
He gave her a knowing look, but she shook her head. “Nay, he hasn’t asked me, and we did not handfast.”
Her father still arched a brow at her.
“Nay, we haven’t yet.” She blushed, but it was the right answer because she noticed her father let a breath out.
“Tell us everything, lass,” Grandsire said.
She told the story as best she recalled it, including the part about the false missives to the two clans. That caused a few questions to be thrown at her. “Who would be that evil? That conniving?” her papa whispered.
Grandsire said, “Should be able to figure it out.”
“How?” she asked.
“You said the man had familiarity with Clan Grant. Few around here know how to write. Maddie taught many of our people to read, but not as many are capable of writing. We didn’t have the supplies.”
Why hadn’t she thought of that?
Her mother called her into the healing chamber about a half hour later. She hurried in, hoping they would deliver good news.
Drostan was dressed in clean clothing and looked much better. “Are you leaving for Stirling?” he asked.
“I’d like to head out on the morrow. Still two days until June four and twenty. Do you mind? Are you going to rest in here?” She sat down next to him while her mother and aunt cleaned up the chamber, then they exchanged a look and left.
The Scot's Deception (Highland Swords Book 5) Page 17
