"We must go back to Rhodie." His brother wore a disgruntled frown, snowflakes clinging in his dark hair. "We've been out here for over two days in the cold, searching. The men need to rest."
"Go back, then," Colin growled. "But I'll not give up on finding Holme."
"We're not giving up," Bryce snapped. "We've seen no sign of him the whole time we've been out here. He's probably long gone by now."
Colin shook his head, eyes narrowing. "You do not ken him. He craves revenge more than his next breath. He wants me dead… and probably you, too. I'm sure he'd like naught more than to see all us Camerons dead."
Bryce drew in a deep breath and blew it out as if annoyed and exhausted at the same time. "I ken you're right, but mayhap there's another way."
"Tell me then. I need good ideas for catching a murderer."
Bryce glanced skyward. "'Twill be near gloaming by the time we reach Rhodie. I say we return now, get some rest so we can think clearly, then have a meeting. We can come up with a strategy to keep all of us safe inside the walls. If Holme truly does want to exact more revenge, he will come to us. We can double the number of guards posted upon the ramparts and other places."
Colin turned and glanced back at the rest of the Camerons, waiting nearby with the horses. They did look tired and discouraged. He nodded. "Very well. We'll go back for now. But tomorrow we must come up with a canny strategy, for Holme will not give up."
***
Wearing a black cloak and carrying chimney sweep tools—canes and whalebone brushes—Holme approached Rhodie Castle. No one would miss the real chimney sweep he'd put out of his misery and stolen these trappings from. Scroggie followed along behind him, affecting a limp and carrying the rest of the tools—a ball, sacks and ropes. Both their shaven faces were covered in black soot, helping to ensure no one would recognize them.
As they passed the chapel and cemetery with its freshly filled-in grave, Holme smirked. He'd finally given Maitland Cameron what he deserved, but Holme wasn't finished yet—not until he'd eliminated a few dozen more Camerons.
This was the closest Holme had been to the castle in over a decade. His heart pounded in a fast, excited rhythm. Could he get inside the walls with no one the wiser? He almost smiled, relishing the challenge.
He already knew that Colin and more than twenty Camerons were out searching the wood and various other places. Holme and his men had found a canny hiding place in the village a few miles away, a place Colin and his men had searched the day before. But they hadn't found the hidden cellar of the byre used by Holme's former clansman.
Now, one of the tall, brawny Cameron guards approached the portcullis. "What do you want?"
"Need yer chimneys cleaned?" Holme affected a dialect like a peasant from the east. "We'll give ye a good price. Winter coming. Naught worse than a chimney clogged with soot and resin. Could catch the castle on fire."
"Wait here. I'll ask the steward." The guard strode away.
"What do you think, Red? Think they'll let us in?" Scroggie whispered, then let out a snicker.
"Aye. I believe they will. No one wants a chimney fire. Colin has been gone for a couple of days, but we'll be inside when he returns."
A well-dressed man wearing a plaid approached with the guard. Holme assumed he was the steward.
"Are you two chimney sweeps?" He eyed them critically.
"Aye. Can ye nay tell by our spotless clothes?" Holme held out an arm and chuckled good-naturedly. They were covered head to toe in soot. Did the daft man not see their tools as well? Surely they looked the part.
Holme had watched chimneys being cleaned, and he knew how it was done. Didn't mean he would be any good at it, but he could pretend long enough to get his revenge.
"Where are you from?" the steward questioned.
"Inverness. Too much competition there."
"What's your fee?"
"Room and board for a sennight, plus twenty shillings."
The man scratched his bearded chin for a long moment, still considering them. "Wait here." He strode away, then returned a quarter hour later. "You're in luck. We do indeed need our chimneys swept. I'll show you where you can bed down at night."
Red Holme felt like cackling with glee as he strode through the portcullis. 'Twas far easier than he'd ever imagined being welcomed into Rhodie Castle. It wouldn't be long before Colin and his brethren were dead.
