Caelen's Wife, Book Three

by Suzan Tisdale

  No one seemed to notice. There were too many men who lay dying who needed their attention far more than a woman who could no longer hold on to the contents of her stomach.

  She went in search of water to rinse out her mouth. As she approached the base of the small hill, a call rang out. Men came running from all directions.

  Good God, they’re attacking from behind!

  Fiona raced back into her tent, grabbed her broadsword, and raced toward the hill. She scanned the people for a glimpse of her husband and brothers. Her heart began to pound again, just as it had before. Though she had no desire to ever witness such carnage again, she was fully prepared to defend wherever she could.

  As she reached the base of the hill, she glanced upward. ’Twas a most imposing sight. The hill was lined with countless men on horseback. It sent a chill up and down her spine.

  She was ready to call out for arms, when her husband and brothers went racing toward the hill. None of them looked the slightest bit concerned or worried.

  “Angus!” Caelen called out.

  Fiona searched her mind for any memory of that name. Angus. Angus.

  Then it hit her.

  ’Twas the MacDougalls.

  Whilst her husband and brothers greeted the MacDougalls, curiosity took hold of Fiona. Doing her best to stay out of their line of vision, she carefully made her way to the top of the hill.

  The sight took her breath away.

  Hundreds upon hundreds of mounted men, dozens and dozens of wagons spread out as far as her eye could see. How on earth had they known to come here? How had they known to bring so many men? ’Twas a puzzlement to be certain. The MacDougall keep was at least a three- or four-day ride from her own. While word often spread like wildfire, there was no possible way for them to have received the messages that were sent out only the day before.

  In the end, it mattered not to her how they knew. They were here and hopefully they could help bring an end to the fighting.

  Fiona made her way back to the war tent and slipped inside. A moment later, her husband, brothers, and men she did not know entered the space. It suddenly felt quite small as she stood behind the table looking at the wall of men.

  Caelen smiled as he held out a hand for her. “Fiona, I’d like ye to meet Angus McKenna, Duncan McEwan, and Nial McKee.”

  Fiona swallowed hard, quite thankful these large men were on their side. She had met Angus once, many years ago. His hair was nearly white now, but that was all that had changed. He was still an impressively large man. She took Caelen’s offered hand and stepped forward.

  Angus smiled at her, as did the other two men. “’Tis a pleasure to see ye again, lass.”

  Fiona smiled, surprised that he remembered her. The last time they’d met she had been a girl of seven and ten.

  “So this be the woman that stole yer heart, aye?” The shortest of the three men said. His blue-gray eyes twinkled mischievously.

  Caelen chuckled and said, “Aye, this be me beautiful wife, Fiona.”

  The shortest man stepped forward and bowed at the waist. “I be Nial McKee,” he said. “And probably the only man on God’s earth dumb enough to call him friend.”

  Fiona knew the man’s name well for Caelen had often spoken of him. “I’ve heard much about ye, Nial. ’Tis a pleasure to finally meet ye.”

  The tall, unbelievably handsome blonde man standing to his left nudged him out of the way with an elbow. “I be Duncan McEwan,” he said with a bow. “’Tis good to meet ye at last. Caelen spoke of nothin’ but ye when he was at our keep.”

  Fiona felt her face grow warm as she glanced up at her husband. “What did ye tell them?” she asked him.

  Until that moment, she didn’t think her husband capable of burning red with embarrassment. But he did. From his neck to the tip of his ears, he burned crimson.

  Duncan and Nial laughed. “We shall save those stories fer another time,” Duncan said. “Fer now, we’ve battles to plan.”

  Fiona made a mental note to find out exactly what Caelen had told these men.

  15

  They had stayed up late the night before, Caelen, Collin, Brodie and the men who had come to help them. Mercifully, someone had brought Fiona a small tub of hot sudsy water. She washed as thoroughly as she was able and donned fresh tunic and trews. After sharing a meal with their guests, she slid into her pallet and was asleep before she laid her head down.

  At some point in the middle of the night, she felt Caelen crawl into the pallet beside her and pull her against his chest. He smelled fresh and clean. Were she not so exhausted, and the tent not filled with her brothers, she might have been tempted to show him how happy she was to be his wife.

  Fiona woke the following morning to an empty pallet and tent. She pulled on her boots, tossed a plaid around her shoulders and left the tent in search of her husband. The search did not take long. He was standing near a fire not far from the war tent, surrounded by her brothers, Angus, Duncan and Nial.

  Caelen looked up as she made her way through the mud. He looked far more relieved today than he had yesterday. Mayhap today would be the day they could finally free William and be gone from this Godforsaken place.

  Though ’twas another gloomy day, the atmosphere in the encampment seemed more cheerful. She supposed it had to do with the fact that Angus and Nial had brought eight hundred men with them.

  Caelen smiled as she neared. “Good morn, wife.”

  “Husband,” she said returning his smile.

  “What do ye have planned for this day?” she asked him as she took a piece of bread that Nial offered her.

  A devious smile played out on her husband’s face. “I plan on killin’ Gelis Farquar.”

  “Good,” she said as she popped a bit of bread into her mouth. “I only wish I could watch.”

  The battle this day commenced much the same way as it had yesterday. Flags dropped, roars and battle cries rent the air. This time, however, Fiona was more prepared and knew what to expect. Still, it sent chills up and down her spine as she watched another melee unfold before her eyes.

  Today, she was surrounded by dozens of men, some her own, while others were MacDougalls and McKees. Though she felt safer surrounded by all these men, she still dressed for battle.

  After some time, a sense of dread began to replace the hope she had felt. Men fought and fell and bled. Soon, she was unable to keep watching. It made her stomach churn, knowing that at any moment, her brothers or her husband could be the next to fall.

  Speaking to no one in particular, she said, “I should like to return to my tent now.” Without waiting for a response, she returned her horse to the makeshift corral, unsaddled it, and went back to her tent.

  Alone inside, she paced back and forth. Something kept niggling at the back of her mind. A forewarning of some sort draped itself over her heart, weighing her down. From inside the tent, she could still hear the clamor of battle coming from without. It began to drone on disturbingly.

  She didn’t know what was worse. Being in the heat of battle or waiting for word. Each had its own unique and ugly qualities. She supposed it was a draw.

  Deciding she’d go mad if she remained hidden in the tent, she went to offer assistance to the healers. As soon as she entered the tent where they tended the wounded, she wished she hadn’t. The cloying odor of blood and death filled the space. Men lay spread about the ground with wounds of varying degrees. The first man she came upon was missing a leg. The man lying next to him had lost an eye.

  Breathing in through her mouth, she grabbed an apron from a table and went in search of someone who could put her to work.

  They put her to work washing bloodied bandages. Fiona was grateful to be out of the tent that held the wounded. At least out of doors she could breathe fresh air, even if she was standing over a boiling cauldron of water.

  Just when it seemed it would not end, one of her men approached. “Fiona,” he said, out of breath. “They need ye in the war tent.”

&n
bsp; She finished wringing out the bandages and set them on a line to dry before hurrying off to the war tent.

  Stepping inside, she found Caelen, Angus, and Duncan. As soon as she saw her husband, she knew that something had gone horribly awry.

  Caelen stepped toward her and took her hands in his.

  “Fiona,” he said, his voice sounded tight and constricted.

  “What be wrong?” she asked. Had they received word of William? She was too afraid to ask.

  Caelen worked his jaw back and forth before answering. “’Tis Collin. He’s been captured.”

  Fiona felt the world wobble under her feet. How she remained standing, she didn’t know.

  Collin.

  She took in deep breaths of air and she willed herself to remain calm. “What happened?”

  Caelen shook his head. “I do no’ ken fer certain. We think he was wounded and when the Farquars discovered who he be, they took him. They’ve just sent a messenger to let us ken that they have him.”

  Her shock was quickly replaced with anger. As Caelen tried to explain what happened, all she could think of was the different ways she could kill Gelis Farquar. Hang him? Nay, too quick and simple. Nay, he deserved something far more painful. Mayhap she could gut him, tie his intestines to a horse and have him drug through rocky terrain.

  “Fiona, are ye well?” Caelen asked, his voice filled with concern.

  She cleared her throat before answering. “Aye, I be well. Merely thinkin’ of ways to kill Gelis Farquar.”

  Caelen glanced at Angus and Duncan before turning his attention back to his wife. “Ye may get a chance to do just that.”

  Fiona was confused. Certainly she had not heard him correctly. She did not believe Caelen would let her get within spitting distance of Gelis Farquar. “What do ye mean?”

  Caelen led her to the table and sat her in a chair. He pulled a rolled parchment from the table. “Gelis Farquar’s missive. He says if ye wish to see Collin or William alive again, ye will meet with him.”

  Why the thought of coming face to face with Gelis sent a shiver of excitement over her body, she did not know. But she had to wonder why Caelen was telling her this or why he’d even consider it. She studied him closely for a long moment. What was he not telling her?

  “Caelen, do ye truly mean to allow me to meet with Gelis?”

  He gave a slight nod of his head. “Aye, I do.”

  There was a glint of something in his eyes, something intriguing. Understanding soon dawned.

  “Ye have a plan.”

  He smiled. “Aye, we do.”

  16

  Fiona was armed to the teeth as she sat atop her mount. Chainmail under her leather armor, her targe hung over her left knee, her sword safely in its sheath. Sgian dubhs in each boot, one in her belt at her back, two more tucked into her sleeves.

  Farquar’s missive said she was to come alone. Not bloody likely. Caelen, his face hidden under a dark cowl, rode to her right, Brodie to her left. In front of her rode Nial McKee. Behind them were five McDunnah men and five of Nial’s.

  They rode to the gate of the Farquar keep. Fiona shouted up at the watchman. “Tell Farquar I be here.”

  “Ye were supposed to come alone,” the watchman shouted back.

  Fiona shook her head. “Tell Farquar if he wants to see me, I bring me men with me. I’ll no’ come alone,” she called out to the men on the wall.

  The watchman disappeared. ’Twas difficult for Fiona not to look at her husband. She wanted to say something, to tell him she was very glad he was beside her and that she was certain his plan would work. Since she’d already told him that more than once while arming herself, she didn’t think it necessary to repeat it.

  Finally, the gate in the curtain wall lifted. Nial led the way in.

  As soon as Fiona passed through, one of Farquar’s men came out of the shadows and grabbed the reins of her horse.

  “Ye were to come unarmed,” he told her.

  Lifting her booted foot, she kicked him in his face and sent him stumbling backward. Everyone in her party held a collective breath.

  Fiona looked around the courtyard at the other Farquar and MacKinnon men. “Would anyone here like to try to disarm me?”

  A long silence passed.

  “Ye were to come alone and unarmed,” someone shouted from ahead of them.

  Fiona sat taller in her saddle. “Ye go tell Gelis Farquar that if he thinks I be stupid enough to come into his keep unarmed and without escort, then he’s a bigger fool than I imagined,” she called out to the men.

  A moment later the same voice called out again. “Ye may enter the keep, but ye have to leave yer weapons and yer men behind.”

  “No’ bloody likely!” Fiona called back to him.

  Silence.

  “Tell yer chief I think he be a coward!” Fiona called out. “He be afraid of me, a woman. So afraid that he canna come out here and meet with me in person. If the coward wants to meet with me, he can present himself now instead of cowerin’ inside like a child!”

  It felt quite good to hurl insults. ’Twas going to be even better to watch the man die.

  Her last set of insults apparently did the trick. The door to the keep opened, and Gelis Farquar stepped out into the open. He wore chainmail and leather over dark tunic and trews. His boots looked as though they’d never seen a speck of dirt. A broadsword hung at his side.

  Spotting Fiona, he took the stairs down into the courtyard as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She doubted he was as courageous as he appeared.

  He stopped a few yards away from Fiona and her men. “Did ye no’ trust that I’d keep me word, Fiona? In me missive, I promised no harm would come to ye if ye met with me alone.”

  “Fergive me if I do no’ trust ye at the moment, Farquar. Ye’ve proven ye’ll stop at nothin’ to get me lands.”

  Gelis laughed. “’Tis no’ yer land I want, Fiona.”

  “So I be told,” she said. “Pray tell, could it be the treasures hidden in our tunnels that ye seek?”

  His arrogant smile faded in a heartbeat.

  “Aye,” Fiona said with a nod. “I ken all about the treasures ye seek.”

  He remained silent, but Fiona could see he was thinking hard about what she said.

  “We found those treasures long ago,” she told him. ’Twas a lie, of course, and one she hoped he would believe. At the very least, it would give him cause for doubt, long enough for them to put the rest of their plan to work. “How do ye think we kept from starvin’?”

  “Ye lie!” he shouted at her.

  “Do I?” she said. She knew then she had hit upon the truth. Apparently, he believed there were treasures hidden in her tunnels. ’Twas the only thing that made any sense after ruling out magic water and their whisky. But why he thought there was treasure there remained a mystery.

  “I ken it be no’ magic water ye seek, Farquar. Ye lied about that, so people would no’ ken why ye truly wished to marry me.”

  His anger bubbled just under the surface. Fiona desperately wanted to look about the courtyard to see that everyone was in place, but she could not give away their plan.

  “I be no fool, Farquar. The treasure ye fought so hard to get yer greedy hands on be gone. Most of it anyway.”

  “Ye lie! No one could have spent all that gold and coin!” he seethed.

  “I did say most of it. There be some left. Enough, I suppose fer ye to live out the rest of yer days in comfort. That is if ye live long enough.”

  “Do ye wish to see yer brothers alive again?” he ground out, taking a few tentative steps toward her.

  “Aye, I do,” she answered. “And if ye wish to remain amongst the livin’, ye’ll hand me brothers over now.”

  Gelis laughed heartily at her threat. “Yer surrounded,” he informed her. “Or had ye no’ noticed?”

  Caelen coughed ever so slightly, drawing Fiona’s attention away from Gelis. A loud whistle filled the air a moment later. That was the signal
that all hell was about to break loose.

  Almost instantly, men swarmed the courtyard from all hidden corners and shadows. Caelen and his men immediately surrounded Fiona, safeguarding her from the fray.

  Gelis Farquar hadn’t seen it coming. He was immediately set upon by a dozen McDunnah and MacDougall men. Around him, more McDunnahs, MacDougalls and McKees swarmed the enemy.

  Shouts rang out, above the fracas of clanging metal. Fiona kept back, staying as close to her husband as she was able.

  “Kill the prisoners!” Gelis called out to his men as he struggled against his captors. “Kill them now!”

  Caelen dismounted, much to Fiona’s protests. Racing toward the keep, he told Nial to get Fiona to safety. Nial wasn’t about to give her time to argue. A moment later, they were flying across the courtyard and through the gates of the keep.

  It had been a simple yet devious plan and Caelen owed the idea to Nial. The idea had come to him on the battle field that morn, when the people sent out to haul in the dead and injured had accidentally grabbed a dead Farquar soldier. With so much blood and mud, ’twas difficult to distinguish a McDunnah for a Farquar.

  So Nial, the cunning bastard that he was, came up with the idea of replacing their healthy men with the fallen Farquar men. Covered in mud and blood gathered from other fallen warriors, Nial’s idea was put into place. They quietly slipped into the battle field a few at a time. With the battle raging on, they were able to exchange their plaids for the Farquar plaids. One fallen warrior looked like the next. When a halt to the battle was called later that morning to clear the field, two dozen McDunnah, MacDougall and McKee warriors were carried into the Farquar keep on litters.

  Caelen was exceedingly happy to have Nial McKee on his side.

  Once Caelen saw that Gelis was bound and under the control of his men, he grabbed several other fighting men to follow him inside the keep. He had to get to William and Collin.