While the journey had been taxing, she was doing better now that her body had adjusted to riding on horseback. She and Aidan had only grown closer, spending hours upon hours talking then making love every chance they got. Though she hadn’t known him long, she wondered how she’d ever managed without him. She understood why she loved him so much in her previous life and considered him her best friend. He truly was. She had never gotten along so well with anyone.
From the moment she opened her eyes in the morning to when she fell asleep at night, she wanted to be around him. Some might say that was normal for people falling in love, but she knew it would always be that way for them. They would never tire of each other. When she wasn’t with him, she looked forward to seeing him again. She was always eager to tell him about her day, even if they had only been apart a few hours.
“From what Tiernan says, Cray’s in a fouler mood than ever,” Aidan said in response to her comment about Donald not insisting the MacLeod ride toward the front. “Apparently, Madison hasnae let him be when it comes to the lasses. He’s been unable to enjoy any of the wenches meandering about.” He shook his head. “’Tis a bad thing indeed when the MacLeod is denied the lasses. He becomes a raving beast.”
“I can just imagine.” She set her satchel beside his when they found a secluded spot by a stream. “That’s why Donald’s fine with keeping Cray at a distance then, eh?”
“Aye.” Aidan chanted away his tunic, revealing a chest and shoulders she couldn’t get enough of. “Though he’s been assured Cray isnae possessed, he doesnae entirely trust such.”
She chuckled. “I get that.”
As always, he eyed her with lust but shook his head. “Whilst I would prefer to take you here and now, ‘tis best I bathe first.” He chanted away the remainder of his clothes, giving her a welcome view of his tight ass as he strode into the water. “’Twas a good practice I got in with Tiernan this morn.”
“No doubt.”
They had been mock-fighting for hours while she and Julie collected herbs and berries for dinner. Though she shouldn’t be because she’d always enjoyed nature, she was surprised by how much she liked being in this era. How quiet and peaceful the forest was. How fresh the air smelled compared to modern day. The more time she spent here, the more the feeling grew. Which made sense, Julie reminded her, as she had once been a faery and lived amongst the trees.
“So the Battle of Dupplin Moor is tomorrow then?” she asked Aidan, smiling when she started to undress only for him to chant away her clothes.
“Aye.” He dipped beneath the water, surfacing in time to admire her walking in. “And just as history tells it, the Earl of Mar is being a bloody fool. More so, in my opinion, because he's seen his men turn on each other while they were possessed.”
She knew what was about to happen bothered him and his cousins a great deal. She couldn’t imagine how hard it was to remain silent when they knew what lay on the horizon for their fellow Scotsmen.
“It’s still so hard to believe,” she said, having seen the size of Donald and Robert’s army. Not just that, but more were coming, led by Patrick, Earl of Dunbar from Lothian. “It seems impossible to believe such a small army will defeat such a large one.”
Donald and Robert’s army totaled over ten thousand men. Across the river setting up camp, Balliol and Henry de Beaumont’s army numbered no more than a few thousand. The only way the upcoming battle could be remotely balanced was if a great deal of Donald's men fell victim to possession. Something she sensed would not happen. Not since she drove the Disinherited away during the overnight battle. Rather the brotherhood would proceed with caution next time, using a few well-selected men who could accomplish what they needed quickly.
“’Tis pure foolishness,” Aidan muttered. “And though ‘tis hard to know, mayhap ‘twould have gone differently if Donald wasnae so overconfident and Balliol didnae have Henry on his side.”
“Right,” she murmured, contemplating what was going to happen, assuming, of course, the evil brotherhood didn’t interrupt history. As was foretold, and as she saw this morning when Donald arrogantly laughed at the size of the enemy’s army, he was about to make a fatal mistake. “Despite Robert’s protests, Donald already declared that it was all right for his men to drink tonight. That it would be a quick battle on the morn and sure victory.”
One had to wonder, though, if on some level allowing his men to drink wasn't Donald's way of coping with the oddity of having his men possessed not once but twice now. Scots, as it turned out, were a very superstitious lot, and some whispered perhaps the devil was amongst them. So bringing a semblance of normalcy via imbibing wasn’t a far-fetched notion. Just particularly poor timing as fate would have it.
“Aye, there will be drinking.” Aidan sighed and frowned, sad that he and his cousins would be part of it. If Robert and his men didn’t indulge, they intended to egg them on. They needed to be in their cups and not at their best. “’Twill not be easy watching any of it.”
“I know.” She embraced him, offering comfort, feeling his pain. “But we’ll get through it and protect David.”
They would have to. Because according to history, thanks to Henry de Beaumont’s strategic thinking, he would lead his small army to a truly remarkable victory.
One that would cost Donald and Robert dearly.
She tried not to think about it later that day as she sat with Robert and David in the king’s tent. Like her, Julie tried to smile and be jovial with David, but it was hard. This was no place for a child.
For the first time in over a week, Cray was finally present as well, his disposition stony and his eyes alert. She tried smiling at him several times, but he never looked her way. Eventually, she noticed that while he and Aidan drank whisky, they weren’t urging Robert to imbibe like they were supposed to. Meanwhile, elsewhere in camp, Tiernan made sure his men toasted to the morrow despite Robert advising them not to.
Her heart went out to Cray and Aidan, realizing how hard this was for them. Robert had proven to be a good man, more faithful to Scotland than most. So neither had it in them to encourage him to drink when he clearly thought it was a bad idea.
“’Tis unwise to imbibe,” Robert had said earlier. “The earl is a fool. He should know better. Henry de Beaumont is a more seasoned warrior than most and has a good mind to battle. Even better than our Earl of Mar is said to have.” He’d shaken his head. “Though I dinnae see evidence of it this eve.”
Even so, she thought to herself,this needed to happen. So she held up her cup in a toast, not wanting Aidan and Cray to have to make the first move. Sparing them this. “Where I'm from, it’s bad luck not to toast. So here’s to a victorious battle!”
When everyone held up their cup except Robert, she looked from his whisky to him with hope, pretending this meant a great deal to her. “Please. For me?”
He hesitated before he finally appeased her and toasted as well, taking a solid swig. That was all Aidan and Cray needed to get the ball rolling. As the night wore on, they encouraged Robert to keep drinking, and the three of them eventually left to join the others.
In the meantime, she and Julie spent the remainder of the evening with David. He really was a sweetheart and very intelligent for his age.
He was also very observant.
