Gavin covered his ears. “Nay, nay, nay. ’Tis completely different. Och, why put that in my head?”
Merewen sat up, brushing the sleep out of her eyes. “Gavin, did you miss something?”
Gregor grinned at his cousins’ antics, but he couldn’t shake the memory of what had happened—and how much worse it could have been. “Wake up all the guards. Send them out to check the area for more reivers.”
Gavin moved over to the guards. “I’ll take care of it.”
By the time they finished searching the area, the sun was nearly up. Fortunately, Gregor caught a glimpse of a well-protected apple tree inside a group of pines. There were still a few pieces of fruit firm enough to eat, so he picked what he could and brought it back to the group, offering one to Merewen, who accepted with a huge smile.
They didn’t need to eat much. They’d be back on Grant land mid-day, and then Gregor and Connor planned to continue on to Ramsay land the next morn.
When they arrived, Gregor had much to do with his brother.
Chapter Two
Gregor and Connor sat at the Grant dais in the great hall that night, a veritable feast in front of them, though Connor’s family had received no notice they’d be visiting. Uncle Alex and Aunt Maddie, Connor’s parents, ate with them, along with his older brothers, Jake and Jamie. His three sisters were with Gracie at her mother’s cottage. Merewen and Gavin had already settled in for the night abovestairs.
By the time they finished their account of all that had taken place in Inverness, the food had gone cold on everyone’s plates.
“You think there are more men in the Channel?” Jake asked, setting his goblet down and pushing his chair back from the table. “Is this a never-ending saga of torture or what?”
Connor said, “Nay, I believe we’re close. Maggie and Will said the men in charge of the organization are English. We’ll see what we can find in Edinburgh, then, if need be, finish in England. If we can stop the leaders, we’re hopeful we can put an end to the Channel for good. Besides—” he added, casting a glance at Gregor, “—we’re trying to help Linet Baird.”
Gregor nodded. “I believe Linet’s being forced into some kind of servitude. I intend to get her away from it, even though she told her sister she wishes to stay with her companions.”
Uncle Alex, one of the wisest men in the Highlands, looked at his youngest son and asked, “And what is your other reason for traveling with Gregor?”
Aunt Maddie said, “I think ’tis obvious, Alex. He wishes to put an end to this before these villains come to Grant land. They took poor Linet from her bed. What will stop them from trying the same thing here?”
Uncle Alex leaned over and kissed his wife’s cheek, lingering a bit. “You have a valid point, sweeting, but I’d like to hear our son’s answer.”
Connor cleared his throat, his way of delaying his response. Gregor knew his cousin strived to be like Uncle Alex—although Connor wasn’t quite as good at concealing his thoughts and emotions, he was improving.
When Connor spoke, he looked his father in the eye and said, “Another woman is tied up with their organization. Sela, who ran the fighting and whoring in Inverness. She’s as cold-hearted as any I’ve ever met.” He paused again, considering his words.
Jamie grinned, his brows waggling. “But she caught your eye, aye, brother?”
Although Jake started grinning, too, he said nothing but waited to hear what Connor would say.
“And why would you go after a woman who has no respect for other women?” Uncle Alex asked.
Connor didn’t hesitate this time, his quick response as telling as the words he chose. “Because I think she’s being used, and I’d like to know why.” He glanced at his mother. “At first, I believed what I saw, Mama, but there’s something in her eyes. I think she’s being coerced…and I won’t stand for a woman being used. Not after what you went through.”
Aunt Maddie stood up and whispered, “Oh, Connor.” She fell back into motherly tone. “You do what you must, and what your heart tells you to do.” She leaned over to kiss her youngest son’s forehead, then turned to Uncle Alex and said, “We must support him in this.”
Uncle Alex nodded. “We will. Whatever assistance you need in Edinburgh, you let us know. We trust you, son.”
“And in England? Because I suspect that’s where their trail will lead us,” Connor stated.
“Wherever, Connor. Do as you must,” Uncle Alex said. “Just don’t be foolish. We have hundreds of guards and many allies to back you up. Use them as necessary.”
Jake asked an important question, one that hadn’t come to Gregor’s mind. “And would King Alexander agree?”
Uncle Alex said, “Our king is in mourning. In the meantime, he trusts the Grants and the Ramsays to make sure the Highlands are safe. He’ll not question our motives or our actions.”
“Even if we go against the English?” Gregor asked.
“Even then. The hatred between the two kings is well-known. Everyone knows how rare it was for them to come together to support Maggie and Will’s work against the Channel. Both kings will be glad for your efforts, though do not expect them to ever come together again.”
“In other words, Connor, do whatever it takes,” Jamie said. “Jake and I will have enough warriors for you. Send a missive with the number of guards you need, and we’ll send that and fifty more.” Jake nodded in agreement.
Gregor could not help but smile. The Dubh men didn’t realize that the worst thing in the world had just happened to them.
Aunt Maddie had made the Channel her mission, in a way. Which meant it was also Alexander Grant’s mission.
They were about to stamp out the Channel once and for all.
Connor said, “I will find out what holds those two lasses. I promise you.”
***
They rode hard and fast and arrived on Ramsay land two days later. That evening, Gregor pulled his half-brother, Torrian, aside and asked if he would train him out in the lists.
“Now?” Torrian asked, a reasonable question given that they were currently at a small celebration for Gregor’s return from Inverness. The great hall was packed with friends and family, food and ale weighed down the trestle tables, while minstrels played a lively tune. A wedding celebration was being planned by Sorcha and Lily, who couldn’t wait to share Merewen and Gavin’s happiness when they arrived. Unfortunately, Gregor would miss it.
He nodded in response to his brother’s question, not willing to offer an explanation yet.
Torrian tipped his head to the side as though in consideration, but then he just nodded and said, “Sure. We’ll talk where there are no ears.”
Grateful, he sighed and followed his brother out the door. Although Torrian likely couldn’t be gone long—he was chieftain after all—the celebration would ensure their practice session stayed private.
They made their way to the stables silently, stopping to choose swords before heading toward the gates.
Once they reached the lists, Torrian asked, “Want to share what this is about? You’ve never been interested in swordplay, and your archery skills are nearly the best in the clan.”
Considering how much he wished to share, he finally decided he didn’t wish to hide anything from Torrian. He trusted him completely. “You are aware that Mama and Papa never cared whether I trained with the sword, so I chose the bow. Now, after all my travels with the cousins, I realize I’m at a disadvantage.”
“Did something happen?”
He scuffed his shoe in the dirt. “I would have been killed a few nights ago, if not for Connor.”
“How many?”
Gregor respected Torrian’s way of getting to the heart of the matter, one of his greatest skills as chieftain.
“Only two, but by the time I heard them, they were nearly upon me and my bow was useless.”
“And the rest of the men? Our Ramsay guards were all sleeping? Because that shouldn’t be and you know it.”
True,
Connor had thrown some sharp words at the two guards who’d neglected their duty, but in the end, it didn’t matter who was at fault. He wouldn’t have been any less dead. “Aye, they fell asleep. But we worked them hard the sennight before we left.”
“Do not make excuses for guards. ’Tis what they train for. So your guards failed at their job, no one else heard the two reivers but you, and you blame yourself for what happened?” Torrian gave him an arch look. “’Tis admirable you wish to improve your skills, but yours is not the only mistake in this tale.”
“Nevertheless, I’d like to practice my skills. I used to work in the lists, and if I could train with you a bit, I might make it to the level where I’ll not embarrass myself.”
“Fair enough,” Torrian said, removing his tunic even in the cool night air. He’d be covered in sweat in a few moments.
There was a light breeze in the night, the tree branches waving ever so slightly. Ramsay land sat in West Lothian, on the edge of the Highlands. He loved this land, the hills and mountains, burns and glens, and everything else his clan had fought so hard to protect.
He had more to learn if he was to protect it with them.
To his surprise, Gregor found he wasn’t without skill, and after several go-rounds with his brother, he believed he could hold his own in the lists. He was pleased to hear that Torrian had made the same assessment. Apparently, his increase in size over the last few years had worked to his benefit. The sword was no longer the cumbersome weapon it had been.
“Och, you’re not ready for MacAdam or Connor Grant yet, but you’ll be able to defend yourself against the average reiver who swings wildly without a plan in mind.”
“Many thanks, brother,” Gregor said, wiping the sweat from his brow with his own tunic before he put it back on. “I feel better about it. I’ve not forgotten everything. You and Kyle trained me well.”
“You wish to tell me why you feel the need to chase Linet?” Torrian sheathed his sword, then settled on a rock nearby, indicating he wasn’t going anywhere until he had an explanation. The question didn’t surprise Gregor—his mother had asked him the same thing.
He paused to gather his thoughts, then said, “This operation Linet is involved with is wrapped up with the Channel. I admire her wish to help other lasses, but I fear she’s being naïve.”
“You think this Sela will betray her?”
“Perhaps. It does seem she’s taken a liking to Linet, but can she really rely on her for protection?”
“And your assessment of Sela? What is Connor’s interest in her?”
“He seems to believe she knows more than she’s telling. Linet told Merewen that Sela answers to two men, one in Edinburgh and one in London. Is it coincidence that these are the two locations Maggie has been told are cornerstones of Channel activity?”
Gregor paused, crossing his arms as he stared off into the forest, as if the answers he sought might be hiding inside.
He continued, “I think we’re finally closing in on the Channel’s leaders. Connor and I are both committed to leaving immediately, but we’ll call in help as we need it.”
Torrian nodded. “Mayhap you should talk to the Bairds before you leave. Find out why they think their daughter doesn’t wish to come home. There’s more to this puzzle than meets the eye. I plan to pursue the matter myself once you leave. She’s a member of our clan.”
“Former member of our clan.”
Torrian sighed and stood up. “Not until I hear it from her lips. Why has Merewen given up so easily?”
“I don’t believe she has, but the lass is exhausted. She didn’t expect her sister to refuse her. Even so, after a few days’ rest, I suspect she’ll be eager to follow us to Edinburgh.”
Torrian smirked and said, “If Gavin allows her any rest.”
Gregor chuckled. “Aye, he’s quite happily married. I never thought to see it this soon, but I’m happy for him. Merewen is stronger than she looks, although she’s not yet capable of another long voyage. She hides her pain well, but she was dealt some nasty blows by Fitzroy in Inverness. My guess is they’ll follow us within a sennight, probably about the same time Will and Maggie are ready to travel to Edinburgh.”
“And you’re determined not to wait for Will and Maggie?” Torrian asked. The look in his eyes told Gregor that his brother was worried for him, and he understood why. What could two warriors hope to do against one of the final outposts of the network?
He stared up at the sky, thinking of everything that had transpired in Inverness, remembering how helpless he’d felt when he, Gavin, and Connor had found Maggie and Will bound up inside a crate headed across the water. The look of them in that create—still as the dead—haunted him. For a moment, he’d feared they’d found them too late to help.
Aye, he understood why his brother was concerned, but he could not stand down, not even for a few days. He would see this through. “Seeing Maggie and Will in that crate, bound and near death, was something that’ll not leave me anytime soon. I cannot let this matter rest until we find answers, and those answers lie with Sela in Edinburgh.” His hands settled on his hips as he continued to stare up at the sky. “I’ll practice a bit in the lists on the morrow, but we’ll leave mid-day.”
He pursed his lips and glanced back at Torrian. “Something tells me Linet’s life could depend on it.”
Chapter Three
Linet huddled under her mantle, shivering from the cold Highland wind as she and Sela led their horses down off one of the many mountains they had traversed. Three lasses trailed behind them; some of the guards were ahead of them, some behind. Linet’s horse stumbled and skittered, but she patted his withers and talked him down from his panic. They were nearly through the worst of their blasted journey from Inverness to Edinburgh.
Sela, on horseback in front of her, cursed as her horse wove an unsteady path through the small stones beneath its feet. It would be a difficult fall if her horse tossed her and bolted.
“Sela, do not allow him to feel your fear. Pat him calmly,” Linet called out, fearing the worst. Although usually capable of controlling her emotions, Sela wasn’t an experienced rider, especially in the mountains, and the horse clearly sensed it.
Sela did her best to calm the horse, but the horse jolted down the ravine. Whether he aimed to catch the guards’ horses a distance ahead of him or just get down off the mountain, they’d never know, but he bolted. Sela hung onto his mane, screeching for the beast to stop, but it only sent him into more of a lather.
They’d almost reached the bottom, where the guards at the fore of the group had stopped near a burn to water their horses, when Sela’s mount decided he’d had enough of his rider. He tossed her off to the right, sending her down a small incline. One of the guards hurried over and reached for her, but she swatted at him, cursing as she pulled herself up to a standing position. “Bastard!” She glared at her horse, now standing calmly next to the others at the burn, though he did stomp his hoof once as if to remind her she’d been difficult, too.
Linet kept her horse at a controlled descent, knowing they’d be far worse off if she were thrown, too. She dismounted at the bottom and led her horse to the burn, whispering soft words to keep him calm. Once he was settled, she hurried to Sela’s side. “Are you hurt?”
Sela glared at her. “Nay,” she answered, brushing the stones and dry grasses from her clothing. “Foolish arse wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Because you are anxious and the horse senses that in you. You must try to stay calm. Take several deep breaths.”
Sela did as she suggested, still glaring at her. When she finished, she threw her shoulders back. “I hate the Highlands,” she stated loftily, as if the land itself had betrayed her, not her own lack of riding skill.
“You must admit ’tis quite beautiful. You’ll not see a scene like this in Edinburgh.”
Sela glanced at the majestic mountain they’d just descended, gray skies behind it. “True, Leena, but between the Highland savages and the
steep and treacherous journey, I’d be pleased to return to the quiet of the Lowlands.”
“The Lowlands?” Linet whispered. “Why?”
“Because I’ve lived in the Lowlands and talk like a Lowlander, and ’tis the only place I have fond memories. I could run away into the forest and live alone.”
Puzzled by that admission, Linet continued her questions. Sela wasn’t often willing to talk openly, much less confess anything about herself. She rarely spoke at all except to bark orders to the guards. “But I thought you were Norse…” Her physical stature—her height, her white hair and light blue eyes—all spoke to a Norse heritage.
“My sire was Scottish, my mother was Norse. Enough chatter. Calm my horse before we have to continue through this land of savages.”
Linet couldn’t help but be a wee bit protective of her own heritage. True, Ramsay land was very nearly in the Lowlands, but her sire had been raised a Highlander before he joined Clan Ramsay.
Sela marched over to stand in front of Linet, her hands now propped on her hips, and leaned toward her, one of her favorite intimidation tactics. “I’ve seen the savages, Leena, or have you forgotten? I met Connor Grant, one of the most arrogant savages I’ve ever met, and he’s fierce with his sword, so don’t try to convince me otherwise. His friends, Daniel and Gavin of who knows what clan, were brutal with their fists. They’re taller than I am, their shoulders are double the width of mine, and the muscles in their arms are like boulders. They quickly dispensed with half of our guards. Nay, we need to get through this next narrow pass and closer to the Lowlands before I’ll rest.”
Linet wasn’t swayed. “We’ve already passed Grant land, and they are not savages.” She’d never denied Sela in such a way, and she hung her head, afraid to draw more of her leader’s wrath.
“Connor Grant is a savage. I’ve been this close to him. He’s powerful, ruthless, and fights like a beast. I care not to meet him in the wilderness of the Highlands. Are you certain we’ve passed Grant land?”
“Aye, an hour ago. Connor would not hurt you without good cause. Besides, you must admit that he and his friends are far handsomer than most men.” She glanced at the guards over her shoulder, hoping they hadn’t heard her.
Highland Devotion (The Band of Cousins Book 7) Page 2
