Lachlan didn’t for a moment believe they had acquiesced so readily. Closing his eyes, he let out a slow deep breath. “Ye are nae goin’ to listen to me, are ye?” he asked to no one in particular.
The three women remained silent, neither confirming nor denying his suspicions.
“Bah!” he declared loudly. “Ye will do as ye wish, regardless of the danger. If I stand by and allow ye to do this and we somehow miraculously survive, Richard will kill me. If I do help and we miraculously survive, Richard will kill me. If we do nothin’, the Chisolm will kill us all.” He shook his head in disgust. “No matter what I do, I am a dead man.”
“It will work,” Aeschene said. “Ye must trust me.”
’Twas late in the day by the time they arrived at their eastern border. Lachlan took one look at the sight before him and began to have second thoughts about his lady’s plan.
Randall Chisolm’s encampment had nearly doubled in the past day. From what his scouts had told him, two dozen more tents had been erected. From the smoke that billowed upward, Lachlan could glean there were dozens of fires burning. More tents and fires meant more men.
“M’lady, I implore ye to reconsider,” he said.
To Aeschene, he sounded desperate, but she would not reconsider. She had to do something, no matter how dangerous or insane it might sound.
Seeing she wasn’t going to change her mind, he dismounted, keeping the reins to Aeschene’s horse in one hand while handing his own mount off to one of the warriors. “Aeschene, please,” he begged, but knew his continued pleas would get him nowhere.
“Lachlan, what would Richard do if ’twas I being held captive by the Chisolm?”
He knew what she was trying to do and it angered him to no end. Richard would have done anything to get his wife back. “’Tis nae the same thing,” he said through gritted teeth.
If there had been time, she would have begged to differ. As it was, the hour was growing late and there was much left to be done.
Marisse reached over and took the lead rope from Lachlan. “It will be all right,” she said.
He wasn’t convinced.
The three women drew their horses closely together, staring out at the landscape. Marisse described everything as well as she could from this vantage point. Aeschene listened intently, holding the reins so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Lachlan came to stand in front of Keevah’s mount. “Have ye the dirks I gave ye?”
Keevah gave a quick nod before patting her thigh where one dirk was hidden. Another was tucked safely into a small sheathe hidden by the sleeve of her dress. “And ye are certain ye ken how to use them?”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Aye, I ken how to use them, Lachlan.”
“As do I,” Marisse told him when he glanced her way.
Dread and doubt gripped at his heart. If this didn’t work, he would never forgive himself. He regained his mount and called for two of his men to come forward. He pushed his horse between Aeschene and Keevah and retook the lead rope.
“What are ye doin?” Marisse asked.
“If I let ye go in there alone, Richard will kill me.”
Confused, Aeschene said, “But ye are to stay behind and protect the keep.”
“If this does nae work, there will be no keep to protect.”
Admittedly, Aeschene did feel better knowing Lachlan was with them. While she did trust the other MacCullough warriors to protect her unequivocally, she felt safer with Lachlan at her side. Without a doubt, she knew she could trust him.
A narrow stream lay between the small glen and the hillside where the Chisolm had set up camp. Aeschene caught the faint smell of damp earth and mud, blended with the smoke from the many campfires. There was the softest breeze coming in from the north. It brought the sounds of men sharpening blades against stones and their laughter, and various other sounds.
Two horses nickered from somewhere nearby.
Lachlan heard it too. “Wheest,” he whispered to her. “I heard it. Two men, about fifty yards away.”
“Ours?” she asked.
“Nay.”
She swallowed hard and kept her gaze facing forward, sitting taller in her saddle.
“We are almost there,” Marisse told her. “We will cross the stream and head up the hill.”
Aeschene gave a nod as she gripped the reins more tightly. Her babe began fluttering again and she immediately relaxed. There was no way to explain the comfort she drew from the sensation of feeling her babe alive and well inside her womb.
They soon crossed the stream and began the ascent up the hill. The sounds of the encampment grew louder, the smells more obnoxious. Smoke, meat cooking on spits, and the stench of urine and feces all assaulted her senses.
Once they reached the top of the hill, Lachlan pulled the group to a stop. They were soon surrounded by Chisolm warriors.
“We are here to see the Chisolm,” Lachlan told the man standing closest to his mount.
“She was to come alone,” the man replied snidely.
Lachlan ignored him. “Take us to the Chisolm.”
“Only the woman can go,” the man said.
Then tension hung in the air like a wet fur. “Explain to yer laird we were here,” she said as she began to turn her horse around to leave. The rest of her entourage followed suit.
“Wait!” the man called out to them.
“I will nae meet with Randall Chisolm alone,” Aeschene tossed the remark over her shoulder. It was a bold move, but then everything about what she was doing was bold. Or insane. She hadn’t decided yet.
Someone stepped in front of her and grabbed her horse’s bridle. Her mount nickered and shook its head at the sudden movement. Aeschene kicked yanked hard on the reins, causing the animal to rear up. As soon as he was back on all fours, Aeschene squeezed his sides and urged him forward, hoping to trample the man to death.
A loud, stern voice called out from somewhere behind her. “Stop!”
The men stepped back as someone walked toward her.
“My apologies, m’lady,” he said, sounding most sincere as he approached.
Aeschene suddenly had the overwhelming sensation that she was in the presence of pure evil.
“Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Randall Chisolm.”
Lachlan helped her down from her horse, tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and together, they followed Randall Chisolm into his tent. Once inside, Lachlan stood directly behind Aeschene, allowing Marisse to take his place.
Randall took a seat in a high backed, ornately carved chair.
In low, hushed whispers, Marisse was describing their surroundings. “I can honestly say I have looked evil in the eye this day.” She shivered once before going on to describe the man. “He has blonde hair and brown eyes, and a small scar on his forehead. He reminds me of a weasel, with his beady eyes and long nose.”
Aeschene nodded in understanding, trying her best to disguise the fact that she was more than just a bit nervous.
“We are in a large tent,” Marisse whispered so that only Aeschene could hear her. “Straight ahead of us, about ten to twelve feet, sits the Chisolm. There is a large bed behind him, covered with furs and such.”