They had gone perhaps a mile along the far bank when Angus returned. Isabel was extra attentive to her maid whose hands were still shaking, the backside of her gown still soaked. Angus passed the young maid a look that could only be described as sweet and full of concern. And Angus was never sweet. Mo chreach, but the lad might be harboring feelings toward Elsa.
“There’s no sign of pursuit, my laird,” Angus said, reining his horse in beside them. “No’ yet.”
Lachlan’s jaw tightened slightly, his back teeth grinding together. Not yet did not mean they were safe. Just safe for now.
“But we are nearing MacDougall lands,” Angus continued. Known for raiding their neighbors and switching alliances when it suited, the MacDougalls weren’t to be trusted. Lachlan had no desire to discover which way they were leaning today.
If possible Lachlan’s jaw tightened even more, as he leaned in close. “We dinna want a repeat of last time.”
Angus smirked. “We will need to remain vigilant.”
“What happened last time?” Isabel asked.
“The MacDougalls caught wee Finley and… they sent him back to us, let’s just say he was indecent.”
Isabel’s face flamed.
“Unharmed,” Lachlan added with a chuckle. “Well, physically unharmed.”
Lachlan’s voice carried just enough to reach his men without inviting attention. “We need to be careful, for if they suspect we’re on their land and they had anything to do with what happened at Falkirk, they’ll no’ welcome us with open arms.”
“I’ll no’ be riding with my willy out again!” Finely called from the back of the line, and Lachlan chuckled.
Lachlan curled his hand around the hilt of his sword and pushed Dionysus to the front of the caravan. Isabel gave him a glance as he passed. One look that said she wanted to know more. Lachlan hesitated for the briefest moment. Under other circumstances, he might have kept such matters to himself. But, considering why they were out here, he felt the need to relay the information.
“The MacDougalls have no’ always stood with the Bruce, or their neighbors for that matter,” he explained. “Their loyalty is… fickle.”
She nodded, as though confirming something rather than hearing it for the first time. “Aye, my uncle has spoken of their… loyalty.”
To the right of her, her maid shrunk further into the saddle, fear filling the poor lass’s body.
Lachlan studied Lady Isabel, curious to know just how much this woman had been informed. How much her uncle had told her—and how much she had gleaned on her own. She seemed rather talented at snooping, and with her remarkable intelligence, quite intuitive to boot.
But it didn’t seem the appropriate time to press her further. Later, when they were off MacDougall lands, settled around a fire, and they’d both had a sip of whisky for warmth.
As they continued on down the path beside the river, the steady rush of water did little to quiet his thoughts. Lachlan came to a harder conclusion—one he did not care for.
If the betrayal at Falkirk had come from within Scottish ranks, then it could continue to come from anywhere. Any clan. Any man. Not just the MacDougalls. Even those he’d fought beside. Trusted. Bled with.
Dionysus shook his head, and Lachlan loosened his tightening grip on the reins. He stroked a hand over his horse’s neck in apology.
That was the danger of having no face or name to claim the dark shadow of their enemy. Until he could, no one was beyond suspicion.
Even his own men. Even her.
The orders the would-be assassin had been given were clear. Execute Lady Isabel Bruce and her guard before they reached the Isle of Skye. Bury them. Set their graves on fire. The latter was his own doing, just in case one of them wasn’t all the way dead. It simply wouldn’t do for a half-dead man to climb from his early grave and seek him out.
He thought he’d gotten one of them already. Riding back and forth like a pack of desperate and drunken wolves, it was hard to tell who a scout was and who was a lone man on the road simply getting from one place to another.
Alas, he’d been wrong in his guess.
At least one less Bruce loving Scot would still please his liege. That was the point of this whole matter, wasn’t it? Eradicate them from this land one by one. Of course, the offing of the random man on the road, and not one of the party he’d been sent to eliminate, meant he had not completed his task. With the mandate still in place, he could not pass on the torch to the next of them in line. For that was how this whole plot was supposed to work.
One after another they were to complete their tasks so as not to draw too much attention. Well, he’d flubbed that. If it were to get back to anyone that he’d been the one to slit the throat of the Scot on the road, it might be his throat next.
A shudder overtook him, and he once more imagined a raging demon of a warrior hunting him down and chopping him to pieces.
But he hoped the English coin he’d placed in the imbecile’s pouch would help to avert suspicion. Still, he would sleep with one eye open tonight. He trusted no one.
