“What on earth are ye goin on about, Lachlan?” Marisse asked, her brow furrowed.
Lachlan chuckled slightly. “We have a few plans of our own, lass. But we cannae show him what those plans are just yet.”
“Plans? What plans?” Marisse asked with a shake of her head. “All we have done for days is wait. I dunnae consider that a plan.”
“We have nae just been waitin’,” Aeschene said as she retook her seat near the fire. “We have also been planning’.”
“Planning what?” Marisse demanded to know.
Aeschene smiled once again. “We’ve been plannin’ on gettin our men back.”
Marisse was thoroughly frustrated. She looked to Lachlan for guidance and answers; but he wasn’t giving any.
“For now, we must be patient and wait to hear from the Chisolm again,” Aeschene said.
Little did they know they’d be hearing far sooner than any of them anticipated.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Richard was back home, in bed with his wife. A dozen furs and thick, soft blankets covered the soft bed. A roaring fire in the hearth warmed the room considerably. His sweet wife was snuggled next to him, the sound of her gentle breaths sweet music to his ears. He had his arms wrapped around her waist, enjoying the simple moment of being warm and loved.
A loud rattle and clanging of metal against the iron bars of their prison tore him from his peaceful dream. “Up with ye!” the guards shouted.
Startled, Colyne sat upright, his eyes still groggy from sleep. Rory groaned as he too, sat up. “Did ye bring the roast venison we asked for?” he said sarcastically. They’d not eaten anything but gruel and porridge since their arrival.
“Nay, I ate my fill and tossed the rest to me dogs,” the older guard replied. He had thick, dark brown hair and piercing hazel eyes. “Stand up and get in the corner,” he ordered.
Slowly, they did as ordered. Their wrists and feet were shackled, a heavy chain looped through the ankle shackles, affectively binding the three of them together. Had Richard been able to see more clearly and had not every muscle and bone ached, he would beaten the bloody hell out of the five guards.
Every step was agony for the two men. Ribs had been broken, lips cut, faces and bodies bruised. Only yesterday did the swelling begin to shrink in Richard’s eyes. Not more than slits now, but at least he could see enough to walk.
Led up several flights of stairs they reached a heavy wooden door, he paused to look at his surroundings. Stars dotted the midnight blue sky overhead. They were in the courtyard of Randall Chisolm’s keep, this much was certain. Although his senses were dulled from all the beatings, he was still smart enough to make himself aware of his surroundings.
As of yet, he hadn’t lain eyes on the Chisolm. The coward probably worried Richard would kill him if he were given even the slightest opportunity.
They had no idea why they had been dragged from the dungeon at this late hour, but knew it couldn’t be good. He scanned the large cobblestone courtyard looking for the gallows or some other torture devices, but found nothing.
The guard pulled them to a stop near a group of horses. A long length of rope was tied to Richard’s shackles before the man climbed atop his steed. Soon, they were heading toward the gate. “Where are ye takin’ us?” Richard asked.
No one was inclined to answer.
Not more than two hours after receiving Randall Chisolm’s missive, another man from the border patrol came racing toward the keep. The gates were still being lifted when he raced through, ducking low, barely missing the jagged edges of the steel gate.
Soaked with sweat and late-night misty air, he jumped from his horse and raced up the steps into the keep. ’Twas just after midnight when he rushed into the gathering room in search of his lady and Lachlan.
Aeschene and Lachlan were sitting at a table near the fire, speaking in hushed whispers. Marisse and Keevah had taken to their beds only moments before.
“M’lady!” he called out in a harried whisper as he approached. Several people lifted their heads from their pallets as they watched the man cross the room. Soft murmurs began to spread amongst the people.
Aeschene turned toward him, confusion lining her face.
“What is it Thomas?” Lachlan asked.
“There be a man at our southern border. He seeks an audience with our lady.”
Lachlan turned too Aeschene. “That was fast.”
“It must be Chisolm’s man, come to tell us their demands,” she replied.
“Nay, m’lady, he is nae a Chisolm.”
Tilting her head to one side, she asked, “Then who is it?”
“He says he is yer brother, Willem, m’lady.”
Willem? Anger turned her face a deep scarlet. Slowly she got to her feet as her heart began to pound against her breast. “Nay,” she murmured softly. Certainly Willem couldn’t be part of Randall Chisolm’s fiendish plan.
“Yer father is a part of this?” Lachlan asked as got to his feet. He sounded just as bewildered as Aeschene.
“He must be,” she replied. “Why else would Willem be here?” She wanted to scream and let out a call to arms. Never had she despised her father more than in this moment. “Bring him to me at once,” Aeschene ordered. “He must come alone. His men will nae be allowed on our lands or anywhere near this keep.”
Thomas inclined his head toward her before rushing out to do as she commanded.
“Leave it to yer father to break yet another peace accord,” Lachlan fumed.
Aeschene’s lips pursed, her outrage building with each beat of her heart. “We must send a letter to David at once,” she said. “He must be made aware of this betrayal.”
“It will take a week for it to get to him,” Lachlan told her. “We dunnae have that kind of time.”
“He still needs to know what my father has done,” she argued. Her stomach began to churn with worry and bitter anger. “My father will nae get away with betraying this clan again. I will nae allow it.”
They remained quiet for a time, each of them considering the significance and potential consequences of her father’s involvement in this ordeal.
“How long will it take him to get here?” she asked.
“If he is at our border, ’twill likely be dawn before he gets here.”
Briefly, she pondered her options. “Please, help me above stairs. I need to rest before I meet with Willem.” She reached out, seeking his arm, which he took.
“What will ye do?” he asked as the ascended the stairs.
“I dunnae ken, Lachlan. I dunnae ken.”
Sleep did not come easy for Aeschene. She simply couldn’t shut off her imagination. Different scenarios on what she would say to her brother and later her father kept playing out in her mind. Furious and hurt, she wanted nothing more than to slap her father’s lying face, as well as her brothers’ for following him so blindly. Garen MacRay had defied their king and betrayed them all once again.
Keevah woke her at dawn to let her know Willem would soon be here. Exhausted, she climbed from her bed and dressed, sending Keevah to wake Marisse. She knew her friend wouldn’t want to miss the tongue lashing she was going to give her brother. Nor would she want to miss the message she planned on sending to her father.