Highland Deliverance (Blades of Honor Book 3)

by B. J. Scott

  Roslyn glared back at her brother. “If that is what it takes to protect the lad, so be it.”

  “You’ve always been a thrawn lass and you’d benefit greatly from a firm hand. Something I’ll mention to Gordon Sinclair when he arrives.” Roderick stomped toward her. “Instead of meddling in things that are none of your concern, you should be in your chamber preparing for your betrothed’s arrival.”

  “I refuse to marry Gordon Sinclair,” Roslyn replied. “And while I havena met the man, I have heard nothing but horrible things about him. Rumor has it, that like you, he is an abusive, womanizing swine. I could never love such a fiend.”

  The thought of being forced to wed a deplorable man like Gordon Sinclair made her skin crawl. When and if she married, she’d always dreamed it would be to a man who captured her heart and would do her proud.

  “Love has naught to do with marriage, and you’ll do as you’re told,” Roderick replied through clenched teeth. “Father went to a great deal of trouble arranging this union. Na to mention, the alliance with Clan Sinclair will benefit our clan immensely.”

  “You mean, you’ll profit from the land and coin you’ll acquire as a result of my marriage,” Roslyn spat. “I willna be used a pawn.”

  “You’ll do as you’re told and honor the agreement made by our father. I’ll hear no more arguments.”

  “You’re a crass, unfeeling bastard. No wonder Mam—” Roslyn bit her tongue before she disclosed something she’d regret. She’d made a promise to her mother on her deathbed, one she intended to keep. She quickly changed the subject back to Quinn. “The lad is a perfect example. He is clearly not happy about being here, yet you force him to stay. I canna believe you have stooped so low as to taking bairns from their homes, then holding them prisoner.”

  “It isna your place to question me or my actions.” Roderick gestured with a flick of his hand toward to the door. “I suggest you leave at once and begin preparing for your betrothed’s arrival.”

  “While it may na be your sister’s place to question you, Roderick, it is mine,” a woman declared as she flung open the door, the oak slab slamming the wall with a loud thud. She stomped into the room, then paused and glared at Quinn. “Tell me why you saw fit to bring this whore’s son into our home, husband?”

  Quinn stood. “I’m na—”

  “Silence!” Roderick held his hand in the air, shot the lad an angry glare, then faced his wife. “If you hadna failed to provide me with a suitable heir, Jean, this might na have been necessary. The lad may be the spawn of a whore, but like it or not, he is from my seed. As it sits now, he may be my only son.”

  “The illegitimate progeny of a siren from Hell, you mean,” Jean hissed. “What of our bairns and the vows you made to me? I’ve given you the best eight summers of my life. Not to mention three bairns.”

  “All lassies,” Roderick snarled. “Aside from marrying them off for a good price when they come of age, what use are they to me?”

  “We may have three daughters, but I am once again breeding. Why as we speak I may be carrying your son.” Jean slid her hand over her belly, then pointed her bony finger at Quinn. “I want this bastard out of my home at once.”

  “Counsel your tongue, woman. I dinna take orders from you,” Roderick replied. “And even if I did, what do you propose I do with the lad?”

  “As long as I dinna have to look at him, it matters not,” Jean said. “Toss him out on the streets or let him rot in the dungeon. Better yet, drown him in the well like you would any unwanted stray. And by doing so, protect your family any further humiliation.”

  The glower of contempt Jean shot at Quinn was enough to make the hairs on the back of Roslyn’s neck stand on end. “I canna believe my ears. And you call yourself a Christian woman? He is but a wee lad and has done naught to embarrass you or your bairns.” Rosalyn shook her head in disgust.

  She despised the woman and found her brother’s choice in a mate deplorable. Yet despite the burning urge in the pit of her stomach to tell Jean exactly what she thought of her, for the lad’s sake, Roslyn refrained from voicing her opinion.

  “I demand this guttersnipe be removed from my home immediately,” Jean reiterated.

  “While my brother’s indiscretions have indeed come back to haunt him, it’s na the lad’s fault,” Roslyn pointed out. “He dinna ask to come here. And I’m certain if you send word to his mother, she will gladly arrange for someone to fetch him home.”

  “I told you my mam is dead,” Quinn said. “I live with my sister Sheena and her husband Lazarus Fraser.”

  “Sheena. Is that the whore’s name?” Jean asked her husband and clucked her tongue.

  “My sister isna a whore!” Quinn tried to lunge forward, but Roslyn placed her hand on his shoulder, holding him in place.

  “Hush, lad. You’ll only make matters worse.” Roslyn peered up at her brother. “I’d hope you wouldna dream of casting the lad out or doing him harm. If you willna listen to reason, Roderick, release him into my custody. I’d be happy to care for him until you come to your senses. Please—”

  “Hold your wheesht.” He shot an angry stare at the two woman. “Both of you. What happens to the bairn is neither of your concern.” Roderick pointed to the door. “Leave this chamber at once, Wife. Go tend to our daughters and dinna speak to me of this again. The lad stays and naught you say will sway me.”

  Jean crossed her arms over her breasts and widened her stance. “We’ll just see about that. I’ll na abide having this—”

  “Go now, before I throw you out!” Roderick stomped toward his wife.

  “We are na finished with this discussion, husband,” Jean spat, then whipped around and stormed out of the chamber, slamming the door behind her.

  Roderick returned his attention to Roslyn. “And you must think me daft, sister. I forbid you to have any further contact with the lad. Disobey me again, and you’ll find yourself in the dungeon. Do I make myself clear?”

  While she refused to turn a deaf ear and a blind eye to this situation, she saw no point in angering her brother further. He was not easily swayed and she feared if she pursued this any further, it might cause more harm than good.

  “Very well. I dinna agree with what you are doing, brother, but you are laird and I will honor your wishes.” Roslyn crossed her fingers as she spoke, offered a curt nod, then spun on her heel and left, fully intending to return when it was safe to do so.

  Chapter 2

  “We’re on Clan Morgan land and will soon be at the stronghold,” Ian remarked as he rode up between Connor and Lazarus. “Do you plan to march in and demand the lad’s release, or have you another plan in mind?”

  Connor slowed his mount, then raised his hand in the air. “We’ve ridden hard for almost two days and the horses are spent. We’ll stop here for a rest and decide how best to proceed.” He slid from his horse and tied his reins to a nearby tree, while the others in the group did the same.

  “Why are we stopping here?” Bryce asked. “A little farther and we would be at Morgan’s castle. Hell, if we act fast, we could retrieve the lad and be home on the morrow.”

  “Bryce is right,” Alasdair said. “I suggest we storm the gates and take Quinn by force if necessary.”

  “That is exactly why I decided to stop here,” Connor replied. “We must think this through before rushing headlong into an altercation with the Morgans. There is no point in instigating a clan war if one can be avoided.”

  “Then how do you propose we rescue the lad?” Alasdair asked.

  “I’ve thought about going to Roderick and requesting he return the lad. Try to reason with him,” Connor said. “But I have no doubt he would laugh in my face. The last thing we want to do is alert the bugger of our intent to get Quinn back.”

  “I dinna see how we can avoid a skirmish,” Ian said. “Since his father died, Morgan has acquired the reputation of being one of the fiercest lairds in all the Highlands. I doubt he’ll let Quinn go without a fight.”


  “True.” Connor offered a curt nod and stroked his chin. “However it’s not just the Morgans we need to concern ourselves with. They have strong ties to Clan MacKay. We take on one, and we could be facing a war with both.”

  “Surely the laird of Clan Mackay doesna condone the kidnapping of a bairn from his home,” Bryce pointed out. “He has sons of his own.”

  “Aye,” Connor said, “but in this case, if Morgan claims Quinn as his flesh and blood, it would appear as though we are the ones trying to separate father and son.”

  “Quinn is my son!” Lazarus declared. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back.”

  Connor slid his hand over Lazarus’s shoulder. “I know this isna easy for you, brother. And we’ll do everything in our power to see Quinn is returned to you and Sheena as soon as possible. But we must face the fact that if a war breaks out between the clans and Robert the Bruce is forced to intervene, he may side with Roderick Morgan on this. Not to mention if we go rushing in, we might put Quinn in danger. For that reason alone, we must proceed with caution.”

  Alasdair shot a look at their oldest brother. “What say you, Lazarus?”

  Lazarus raked his fingers through his hair. “I would love to storm the gate and rescue Quinn quickly. But I also know that is easier said than done. Connor has some good points. We need to consider all our options.”

  “I’m with Connor and Lazarus,” Ian said. “While getting Quinn out of Morgan’s grasp is imperative, we need to tread lightly. We must be sure what we do results in Quinn’s release and doesna put him in harm’s way.”

  “And do you have any brilliant ideas, cousin?” Alasdair growled.

  “As a matter of fact I do,” Ian replied. “I propose we send one man in to check things out. Once he has located the lad, he can report back to the rest of our group. We can then determine how best to free him.”

  “The plan is sound, Ian,” Connor said. “But who will be the one to go?”

  “The less attention drawn to the infiltrator, the better. A familiar face will surely give us away,” Ian replied. “I’d suggest the person who goes in does so disguised as a servant or guard in the Morgan’s household. That way he can move about freely and find out where the lad is being held.”

  Alasdair lumbered forward. “I’ll do it.”

  “I’m na so sure you’re the right choice.” Ian met Alasdair’s glare. “Sorry, cousin, but you know as well as I that you have a short wick, and this calls for a cool head.”

  “I canna go,” Connor said. “I met Roderick Morgan in Edinburgh about a year ago. Robert called a meeting of the clans to discuss Scottish policy regarding feudal laws, and Laird Morgan sent his son to represent him. I’m sure he would recognize me.”

  “How about me? I’ve never met him,” Bryce offered.

  “He is my lad. I’ll go,” Lazarus said.

  “You’re too emotionally involved, Lazarus,” Ian replied. “Besides which, if he was watching Fraser Castle before he took Quinn, he may recognize you as well. It is far better if someone Roderick Morgan doesna know infiltrates his ranks.”

  Connor nodded. “Ian is right. I agree, it should be someone he’ll na link to Clan Fraser, and a man who can keep his wits about him. But I prefer it to be kin.”

  “That leaves, me, Bryce, or one my brothers, if they’re willing,” Ian replied. “I suggest we draw twigs to determine who goes.”

  Ian’s brother John stepped forward. “I’m more than ready to do my part. As is Collin.”

  Ian’s youngest brother nodded.

  “Then it’s settled.” Connor held out a fist containing four twigs—three long and one short. “Draw.”

  John and Collin selected, then held their choices in the air.

  His brothers, both having drawn sticks of equal length, Ian faced Bryce. “It appears it’s between you and me. One of us goes and one of us stays here with the others.”

  Bryce crossed his arms over his chest and broadened his stance. “He’s my nephew. It should be me who goes.”

  “We agreed to let the draw decide,” Ian said.

  Bryce made his choice, then hesitated before showing the others what he picked. “We really dinna need to do this, Ian. I am more than willing—”

  “Short stick goes,” Ian responded, then held his up for all to see. “And that would be mine.” He patted Bryce on the shoulder. “Perhaps this is for the best. I’m na married and have no bairns. Should anything go array, no one will miss me or mourn my loss.”

  Connor thumped his cousin on the back. “Naught will go wrong, Ian. You’re a smart man. Just keep your head on a swivel and dinna take any unnecessary chances. You’re there to locate Quinn and check things out. Nothing more.”

  Lazarus rested his hand on Ian’s forearm. “Thank you, cousin. But you’re wrong about something.”

  “I am?” Ian raised a brow.

  “Aye,” Lazarus said. “If anything happened to you, you’d be greatly missed by all of us.”

  Ian coughed, then swallowed against a swell of emotion rising in his throat. “I’d better be on my way. And dinna fash. I will find Quinn, then report back as soon as I’ve located him.”

  Ian removed his baldric, then fastened it to his saddle, along with his padded gambeson and leather gauntlets. He slipped a dirk into each of his boots, then faced his cousins. “Do you think I could pass as a servant?”

  Bryce snickered, then picked up a handful of dirt and smudged some on Ian’s face and tunic. “That’s better. Now you should fit in nicely.”

  Ian shot his cousin and angry glare, but held his tongue. Bryce meant well and he had to admit, he was a little too well dressed to carry off the ruse. “I’ll steal some more appropriate clothes once I get inside.”

  “We’ll set up camp and wait for you here,” Connor said. “And Lazarus is right. You’re a valued member of Clan Fraser. I have always thought of you more like a brother than a cousin.”

  “We all do.” Alasdair offered his arm. “God’s speed.”

  Ian grasped his cousin’s wrist and they exchanged a hardy shake. “Thank you, I best be off.”

  “Be careful.” John pulled Ian into a tight embrace.

  “I will. Keep an eye on our little brother, Collin. He may be a grown man, but has a way of getting into trouble.” Ian slipped into the bushes.

  After making his way through the bracken and thistles, Ian halted when he reached the curtain wall of Morgan Castle. Getting inside would be his first challenge. Once he accomplished that feat, he could set his mind to finding Quinn.

  While the task sounded simple, it would not be easy. And fooling the Morgan and his clan into thinking he was just another servant who belonged there required careful planning. But first things first. He’d wait until dusk, then under the cloak of darkness, he’d find a way to get into the castle.

  As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Ian prepared to make his move. When he spotted a guard on the parapet, he crouched in the shadows near the postern gate, waiting for the sentry to pass. If Morgan’s guards rotated on a schedule similar to those at Fraser Castle, once he’d done his sweep of the area, there would be fifteen minutes, maybe less, to slip inside before they passed again.

  After giving guard ample time to move on, he dashed for the gate, praying that the bailey would be quiet. Most would be inside at this time of day, enjoying the evening meal. Or so he hoped. If a sentry was posted inside the gate, he’d deal with it. Nothing short of death would keep him from finding Quinn.

  Heart pounding, he pushed open the wooden slab, then slipped inside, relieved that no stationary guards were posted. Unfortunately, he was not alone for long. When the sounds of voices alerted Ian to approaching men, he quickly scanned his surroundings, then dove behind some bushes, just as two armed guards rounded the castle.

  “All appears secure, Angus,” one man said to the other. “If the Frasers decide to storm the walls, we’ll be ready for them.”

  “I still dinna understand why the
y would launch a raid?” the second man remarked. “We have no quarrel with Clan Fraser. Unless of course, the laird has done something to warrant an attack.”

  The first guard leaned closer to his friend, but he didn’t lower his voice. “There are rumors being bandied about the keep. Some say that Roderick has taken something of value and the Frasers may try to get it back. Until the laird tells us otherwise, we need to keep a close watch.”

  “That wouldna surprise me in the least, and explains why he felt the need to double the guards,” the second man remarked. “But there is no point in speculating. We’d better get moving before we’re caught dallying.”

  “You’re right, Angus, we dinna want to anger laird Roderick. He is very different from his da,” the first guard said. “Let’s go.”

  In an attempt to remain hidden, Ian squatted the bushes, cursing beneath his breath when a branch snapped under his foot.

  “Wait.” The first guard hesitated and grabbed his companion’s arm. “I swear I just heard something.”

  “I dinna hear anything,” the second man said. “It was probably that cat, scavenging for food.” He pointed at a tabby climbing on a pile of refuse behind the castle. “The bailey is overrun with them these days, but they keep the rats at bay.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” The first guard did another quick glance around the area in which Ian was hiding, then the two men continued on their way.

  As the voices faded, Ian rocked back on his heels and released the breath he’d been holding. “That was close,” he muttered to himself.

  Aware the men could return at any minute, Ian searched for a way into the castle. Upon spotting a door at the back of the keep—one he assumed led into the storage room—he bolted toward it and entered.

  He’d managed to get inside without being caught, but that was in no way a reason for him to relax. He quickly crossed the room, passing an array of barrels and crocks, then opened a door leading into the kitchen.