McKenna's Honor, a Novella, Book Four of the Clan MacDougall Series

by Suzan Tisdale

  Five women of varying ages stood behind them, with broadswords drawn, some with bows and arrows strapped to their backs, and wry smiles on their faces. The women waved -- one wiggled her fingers and winked -- looking proud as peahens as the wagon drove by. Neither Angus nor Duncan recognized any of the women.

  “What the blazes?” Duncan muttered as he absentmindedly waved back at the women. “I be no’ sure, Angus, but I think we’re bein’ kidnapped.”

  Not long after, three young lads and three women all on horseback fell in behind the wagon. Angus’ heart fell to his stomach. “Nay, no’ kidnapped,” he said with a shake of his head. “But someone does no’ want us to make it to Stirling.”

  It hadn’t taken long or a huge leap in deduction for him to figure out who was behind their capture. In no time, they were going at breakneck speed around the bend and down the hill. With each twist and turn, Angus and Duncan were thrown into one another, jostled about like onions in a bowl.

  They travelled for quite a distance before the madman driving the wagon, thankfully, slowed down to a less terrifying speed. The wagon veered left and soon they were crashing through thick, dense shrubbery, bushes, and brush. The wagon tipped and rocked, and once again, Angus and Duncan were thrown into each other.

  He could take no more of it. Mustering all his strength, Angus rose to his knees and began pounding on the wall behind the driver.

  “Bree McKenna!” he shouted as he pounded on the wall. Duncan was lying flat on his back, staring up at Angus. It took a few moments for awareness to settle in.

  “Nay!” he shouted at Angus. “Ye do no’ believe,” his words were cut short when the wagon jerked hard to the left and Angus fell sideways on top of him. Duncan grunted and cursed as they scrambled to right themselves.

  Angus took a deep breath and let loose with a litany of curses before drawing himself back up to his knees. Duncan joined him in the assault on the heavy wooden wall.

  “Bree! I swear when I get me hands on ye!” Duncan bellowed.

  “I do no’ care if ye be married and a mum, I swear I will show ye no mercy!” Angus yelled loudly. How on earth could me daughter be so daft! He wondered between shouting threats and pounding his fists on the wall.

  Their threats fell on deaf ears. After some time, Angus gave up and slid down the wall to sit. If it was his daughter Bree driving the wagon, Angus knew she would not stop until they had reached their destination or when she was good and ready. He blamed Bree’s stubbornness on her mother.

  Duncan finally gave up and sat down next to Angus. Frustrated, he thrust his legs out, crossed them at the ankles as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Does she no’ understand the trouble she will be in?”

  Angus grunted and shook his head. “Nay, I do no’ believe she does.” He knew as well that she did not understand the importance of him and Duncan getting to Stirling.

  Had they made it to Stirling in time, there was a good chance they could have avoided the hanging. But now? Who knew what Robert Stewart would think of Angus and Duncan’s obvious escape? Bree could not know it at the moment, but she may as well have put the nooses around their necks with her own hands.

  FOURTEEN

  “I’m going to kill her,” Nial ground out. “I’m going to kill her!” The vein in his forehead pulsed with each furious beat of his heart. His face was red with anger that bordered on unadulterated rage.

  Caelen grabbed the halter of Nial’s horse and stopped him from doing just that. “Wait!” Caelen whispered hoarsely.

  Nial shot him an exasperated look. “Let go of me horse, Caelen McDunnah. I’ve no wish to kill a friend this day.”

  A roguish grin formed on Caelen’s lips. “Funny, I was just thinkin’ the same thing.”

  Nial’s jaw clenched as he glared furiously at Caelen and wondered what his friend could possibly be thinking by trying to stop him.

  Rowan and Findley stood between the men and watched. Rowan found himself thanking the Good Lord for giving him a quiet wife who never gave him a moment’s trouble. Worry, yes, but the kind of trouble Bree gave Nial? Never.

  Findley was just as angry as Nial at what he had just witnessed. Inwardly, he felt more than a swell of pride at how well his sons had handled themselves against the guards, though he’d never admit as much to any of them.

  He also knew that more likely than not, his hardheaded wife had planned the entire thing. He supposed the only reason he hadn’t seen her was that she had stayed back at their keep to take care of their daughters. Her absence also afforded her some plausible deniability.

  But Findley knew the entire attack had his wife’s name written all over it. As soon as he returned home, he was going to have a very long talk with his beautiful wife. It was in her favor that it would be days before he could do just that. Mayhap by the time he saw her next, he wouldn’t be angry enough to turn her over his knee.

  “Listen to me, Nial,” Caelen said firmly.

  “I’ll listen to ye after I stop my foolish wife.”

  After they had gotten nowhere with Phillip Lindsay or with anyone else in Edinburgh, they had decided to go to Stirling. They also decided that mayhap twenty-five mounted guards might not be enough to protect Angus and Duncan.

  It was certainly plausible that whoever had put Angus and Duncan in jail might want to ensure that they did in fact die, either by hanging or by attacking the caravan on its way to Stirling. Dead men could not speak, nor could they point accusing fingers.

  If Caelen’s gut was correct, there were reasons why Angus had admitted guilt and they had nothing to do with the man actually being guilty. So they set out to follow the wagon, keeping at a safe distance. They stayed far enough away so as not to be seen yet close enough that they could react to any potential attack.

  The thought that anyone would attack to free the two men had never entered any of their minds.

  “This may work in Angus’ favor, Nial,” Caelen explained. “If we can keep their necks out of the hangman’s noose, it might give us time to find out the truth behind all of this. It might also give us time to find Isobel and Aishlinn.”

  The bulging vein in Nial’s head continued to throb rapidly while he weighed Caelen’s argument.

  “Ye can paddle yer wife’s bottom after we find out the truth,” Caelen offered with a grin.

  Nial took in a deep breath and let it out very slowly. He knew all to well how stubborn his wife could be. He also knew how smart she was.

  But this? Attacking royal guards? Leaving them stripped naked along the road? Stealing the wagon and driving it off like the devil was chasing them? Nay, this was beyond anything he could ever have imagined her doing.

  Lady Arline Lindsay had done exceedingly well at keeping her word not to be a bother to the MacDougall men. In turn, they had shown her nothing but kindness, offering her words of encouragement as they raced along the country toward Stirling. A few had even gone so far as to offer to let her sleep atop their laps. Graciously, she had refused them.

  She did not want to take her newfound courage too far. She was, after all, a lady in all respects and she had husband waiting for her at home. And considering the circumstances they were travelling under, she did not want to sully the reputation of Clan Lindsay.

  “Are ye sure ye do no’ need to rest, my lady?” Ronald asked as they made their way across a wide valley.

  Arline smiled politely as she answered. “Nay, Ronald, but I do thank ye kindly.”

  It was difficult to embrace the reality that she was on her way to Stirling. No matter how tired, wet, sore or hungry she became, she refused to give in to the temptation of resting. Too many people, too many lives depended on her making it to Stirling. Time was of the essence.

  It was unsettling to think that only the day before, she thought of herself as nothing more than her husband’s caregiver. Nothing lay in her future other than waiting for Carlich to die. It wasn’t as if she wished he would hurry up and be done with it. On the contrary, the longer
her husband lived the more time she spent away from her father.

  Her father was not particularly mean to her. He’d rarely ever raised a hand to her in anger, save for when she was a small child. He saw that she was properly educated and had the proper clothes as well as a roof over her head. For that, she would always be grateful to him for she knew her life could have been drastically different. She could have ended up living in abject poverty like her half-sisters. Arline knew that were it not for her sneaking them every spare coin that she could, Morralyn and Geraldine would have ended up as bar wenches or worse yet, working in some squalid brothel somewhere in Inverness.

  Orthanach had never publicly -- nor privately for that matter -- recognized the daughters who were born to two different women and on the wrong side of the blanket. Shamefully, he had used women without any thought as to what might happen should any of them bear him a child and then tossed them aside unceremoniously with no remorse or guilt. Arline knew exactly what he thought of the women he bedded for he had told her on more than one occasion. They were less simply because they’d been born that way.

  Oh! How she wished Morralyn and Geraldine were here now! She resisted the urge to giggle at that thought. Morralyn would have been batting her eyelashes at every eligible man present. While Morralyn flirted, Geraldine would have observed quietly, hiding her smile behind her hands. And knowing the two of them as she did, they would have found trouble, or trouble would have found them.

  The sound of Daniel’s voice broke her train of thought. Or was it David? The brothers looked so much alike that it was difficult to tell one from the other unless she was close enough to see their eyes. Daniel’s were blue, David’s green. “It will no’ be long now, my lady. We should reach Stirling before dawn.”

  Dawn? How would one be able to tell dawn from dusk with the dark gray sky and rain? Quietly she wondered if she would not succumb to exhaustion and fall from her horse before the night was through. Not wanting to sound spoiled or ungrateful for their service, she remained mute and kept the thought to herself.

  Arline glanced at the man riding next to her and saw his green eyes. “Thank you, David,” she said.

  David gave her a thoughtful smile. “’Tis more than a good deed yer doin’ fer us, m’lady,” he said as his smile slowly faded away.

  Arline had no response. She was not doing this to gain anyone’s favor or praise. This was the only right decision she could have made. Had she denied her husband’s request and lives were lost, there would have been no way she could have lived with herself. Guilt would have followed her all the rest of her days. Nay, this was the right thing to do.

  Phillip Lindsay rarely, if ever, yelled. But yell he did when he learned that Angus and Duncan had escaped. If it had not been for his wife’s soothing voice and the pained expression on her face, he might very well have torn his study to shreds.

  It had to be the MacDougalls who had perfected the escape. Phillip doubted anyone else had the ballocks to do such a thing. While he very well may have admired the fealty and loyalty the MacDougall clan felt toward their chief, he could not let them go unpunished.

  In hindsight, he should have sent more than twenty-five guards to take the fools to Stirling. Shaking his head in dismay, Phillip realized he could have sent one thousand men and it would not have mattered. The MacDougall warriors would have found a way to rescue their chief. They were relentless bastards.

  “Damn them all,” Phillip seethed as he paced around his office. His under-sheriff stood fearfully in front of Phillip’s desk. He dared not speak.

  “And our men have turned up nothing?” Phillip asked incredulously.

  “Nay,” the under-sheriff answered with a slight tremor to his voice.

  The guards had sat naked beside the road for hours before they were discovered. A dispatch had been sent to Stirling as well as to Edinburgh. Nearly a full day had passed by the time he had received the news.

  “We’ve only just received this news. I’ve sent as many men as I could, some seventy men, sir, to search for them.”

  Seventy or seven thousand, Phillip’s gut told him it would not matter. Knowing the MacDougalls as he did, they were long gone and had Angus and Duncan safely hidden. He wondered how Angus could have orchestrated the escape from his prison cell. Could one of the guards have been bribed to help affect the escape?

  Angus was loved by more people than just his clansmen. There were many people who admired and respected the man. Phillip had no doubt that there were far more people who would not, could not believe the news that Angus was a confessed traitor. Few, if any, would turn away from the man, admitted traitor or not. How many would offer the men refuge? How many would open their doors to the two men?

  The better question was how many would be willing to risk their own lives, or the lives of their families, for Angus’?

  Though he did not like where his train of thought took him, Phillip was left with no other options. He stopped pacing and turned to his under-sheriff.

  “Issue warrants for the MacDougall warriors,” he began as he went to his desk and began taking out his writing implements. “Spread word that anyone, and I do mean anyone who is found harboring Angus McKenna or Duncan McEwan will be hanged, along with their wives and their children.”

  The under-sheriff stood with mouth agape and eyes wide. “But,” he began to speak. Phillip held him off with a wave of his hand.

  “They are admitted traitors. Anyone who harbors them will be considered traitors to king and country, an act punishable by hanging. I’ll no’ argue this with ye. Mayhap people will no’ be so willing to help Angus and Duncan if they worry they’ll hang alongside them.”

  Phillip could only hope he would not have to make good on his threat. He had no desire to hang anyone. He continued to scratch out warrants and missives while his under-sheriff stood solemnly and waited.

  As soon as he was finished, he affixed his seal with red wax and handed the documents over. “Make sure word spreads quickly,” he told him. “And make certain no one doubts me word.”

  The under-sheriff took the documents, gave a quick bow at his waist and quit the room. As soon as the man left, Phillip’s wife appeared before him.

  “Certainly ye do no’ truly intend to hang women and children?” she asked as she stood in the doorway to his office.

  He saw an expression on his wife’s face that he had never seen before. Shame.

  Helena was his world. She and their babe were the only reason he climbed out of bed each morning. Without her, he was nothing but a body taking up space. She did not understand why he was doing what he was doing. He had kept his secrets hidden from her for a very long time. Not because he did not think her capable of understanding or because he worried she’d not be able to keep the secrets closely guarded. It was for her safety, and now, their babe’s that he held on to his secrets.

  Guilt tugged at his heart. He could not live without her. He would not be able to live with himself if anything happened to her or their child. Phillip also knew that things would never be the same between them if he made good on his promise to hang anyone who offered aid to Angus and Duncan. He would never be able to look at her again if he knew she was ashamed of him.

  Nay, he could not live with causing her any pain, nor could he abide it if she thought him a disgrace. This day was growing worse as the moments ticked by. Keep his wife in complete ignorance in order to keep her safe and risk earning her life-long disrespect and let her think him a disgrace. Or, tell her the truth and risk her death. Neither option was at all pleasing.

  Despite his concerns, he decided it was time perhaps, to tell her the truth.

  “Wife,” he said soberly. “We need to talk.”

  FIFTEEN

  Wee William and his men had been waiting for the perfect time to enter Castle Stirling. It hadn’t been easy for any of them to stand by and do nothing. There wasn’t a man among them who did not wish to take a battering ram to the front door, rush in like a swarm
of bees, find Robert Stewart and demand that he listen.

  But Wee William knew acting in such a manner would not help their cause.

  Instead of invading the castle, Wee William and his men camped on the outskirts of Stirling. It wasn’t as if they were trying to remain hidden. Nay, once word had spread that Angus and Duncan were being brought to Stirling, the town’s population seemed to triple in a matter of a few short days.

  As was typical with the hangings of important persons, people had come from miles around. Usually the town or city would take on a fair-like atmosphere, filling near to bursting with jugglers, troubadours, musicians and acrobats along with those wishing to observe the hangings with their own eyes. Wee William assumed many of the people milling about the town wanted to say they were there the day they hanged the traitors Angus McKenna and Duncan McEwan.