Chapter Thirty
NOT FOR THE first timein the past hour, Aidan made sure Chloe was ready for battle. To hell with what others thought, he had manifested trousers for her to make her movements easier during battle.
The losing side of the battle at that.
Though he had spent as much time as possible teaching her how to fight while they traveled, it didn’t feel like nearly enough. Granted, she was a quick study, no doubt aided by her blossoming magic, but he would never be satisfied when her life was at stake. Rather, he existed in a constant state of well-repressed terror that something might happen to her.
He continued sharpening one of her daggers as they sat and waited, all the while wondering what kind of hell Cray was wreaking. More so, he was truly worried about his cousin’s welfare, especially considering his inebriated state, fluctuating magic, and repressed dragon.
Chloe glanced out the tent flap, as on edge as he was. “How much longer do you suppose we have before the battling begins?”
“History says around midnight,” he replied. “And ‘twas nearly done by morn, so I imagine soon.”
As it was told, taking advantage of the drunken state of Robert and Donald’s men, Sir Alexander Mowbray would lead a force across a nearby ford shown to him by a traitor from this very camp. A man named Murray of Tullibardine.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, suddenly figuring it out, cursing himself for not seeing it sooner. “Murray is already passed out, so he cannae be the traitor!”
Chloe frowned before her eyes widened in understanding. “You don’t think Cray is the traitor?”
“Not a traitor, nay,” he cursed. “But seeing through what needed to be done!”
No sooner did he say it than cries rang out in the distance.
It had begun.
He’d wanted to sneak David out of here sooner, but the opportunity had not presented itself. Donald might have been too arrogant to post watchmen to keep an eye out for the enemy, but he had a man or two watching over the king. Men who had already run off to fight, leaving David undefended. If that weren’t enough, their encampment was well lit, allowing the enemy to watch their camp’s declining state easily enough.
“Come.” He pulled Chloe after him. “We must get the king.”
As luck would have it, David was only a few tents over, so they got to him in little time.
“Where is the regent?”Tiernan asked telepathically as he and Julie joined them.
“Last I saw, with Robert.”Aidan helped David onto a horse, once again questioning his own part in this plan. Killing Regent Moray, even to save Tiernan, Julie, and the king had been very hard, but if he had to kill a regent again, he would. Not only to spare his cousin the vile chore but to keep history on track. He looked at Tiernan.“Are ye sure about this, Cousin?”
“Aye,”Tiernan replied.“’Tis my turn to do the deed if need be. And yer turn to protect the wee king though ‘tis safe to say ye did the first time as well.”
That was neither here nor there. What mattered was their mission.
In accordance with history, Donald, Earl of Mar, had to die during this battle.
Aidan clasped Tiernan’s shoulder and nodded his thanks. “Be careful, Cousin. I will keep Julie safe.”
“Aye, ye better.”
Tiernan turned and embraced Julie, assuring her all would be well. When he raced into the night to fight, she murmured, “It better be, or Iwillcome after you.”
Julie swung up behind David and Aidan behind Chloe. The battling drew closer, and cries of pain rent the air. Weapons drawn, they made their way into the woodland, not getting far before chaos erupted where they had just been.
“Find the bairn,” an all-too familiar voice roared, “and bring him to me!”
“Bloody hell,” Aidan cursed, glancing back. “’Tis the regent looking for David.”
“Why do you sound so alarmed?” Chloe said seconds before warriors flooded into the forest ahead of them, and their horse reared up.
“Like before the regent is possessed,”he said into Chloe’s mind, hoping Julie caught it as well.“He means to harm David, and without doubt, try to take you, Chloe.”
Because there was always that. The certain knowledge that the Disinherited wanted to get their hands on a Broun. He swung down, pulling her after him before the horse got even more spooked and threw them.
