Page 7 of Highland Steel

“It happened not far from here,” said Rhoswen, walking up to join them. “And I assure you, the three of us were the only ones to escape those bloody bastards. I hope they go straight to hell for what they did.”

Hawke spit out the whisky he’d been drinking at hearing the way the woman spoke. It splattered on Ethan, who hit Hawke on the arm in return. Logan and his friends exchanged glances, almost laughing at what just came out of the lady’s mouth.

“This is Lady Rhoswen,” Logan told his friends. “Lady Rhoswen, meet Hawke and Ethan.” Logan looked directly at his friends. “She’s a lady. An Englishwoman,” he added to stress the point.

“She’s no’ like any noblewoman I’ve ever met,” Ethan mumbled softly into his tankard as he took another drink.

“Lady Rhoswen, tell us how ye escaped the bandits,” Hawke said. “It’s amazin’ that ye werena harmed when the guards were killed and the attackers tried to do the same to yer faither.”

“Aye, we were lucky, that’s all,” she answered. “We were down at the creek when it happened. If not, we’d be dead as well right now.”

“Did ye see who did it?” asked Ethan. “If so, we’ll hunt them down like dogs for ye and see that justice is done.” Ethan’s large wolfhound, Trapper, trotted up and plopped down next to him hearing the word dog. The hound whined slightly and wagged its tail, sending rushes flying through the air in all directions.

“Nay, I don’t know who they were,” Rhoswen answered, stepping back and swishing off the soiled rushes that had hit her. The animal was so big that it was almost frightening. “I didn’t see them clearly,” she continued. “They wore cloaks with hoods covering their heads.”

Her emotions threatened to choke her as she thought about the bloody massacre she’d witnessed from behind a bush. She’d wanted to help defend her father and the guards since she knew how to use a sword and was good at it. She’d learned to fight in secret through the years, taught by her father. But instead of helping defend them, she’d kept hidden to protect Blaine and Newell from being killed. Newell was a page, training to be a squire. He could fight a little, but Blaine was naught but a lady and frightened by everything. She was totally helpless. Rhoswen would do anything to protect them since they were her younger siblings, traveling in disguise. It hadn’t been easy to hold Newell back, but she was following her father’s orders. He’d told her to protect her siblings, no matter what it took to do it. And that is exactly what she had done by remaining hidden.

Rhoswen had no mother. She had taken it as her responsibility to play the role of mother to her siblings and lady of the castle ever since their mother killed herself six months ago. Her family left England, their castle, and everything behind, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was their mission. Her father was gifted a sword from their English king, Richard, to aid in their mission. It was an ornate sword that was said to have never lost a battle. Well, they had lost it now, and needed it to fulfill their mission.

“Where are the bodies?” asked Caleb. “We’ll go back and bury them for ye.”

Rhoswen’s eyes closed partially and she felt as if she were going to retch. Her father’s loyal men were now dead. Her hand went to her stomach and her head dizzied. “Thank you, but I think I’d like them taken back to Yorkshire and brought to their families. Can you find someone to do it?”

“Nay. That’s no’ possible,” said Logan, his eyes glancing around the room. “The English will think we killed them, and willna believe otherwise. We canna endanger the Scots for killin’ the English when we dinna even ken who did the crime.”

“You’re right,” said Rhoswen with a sigh. “I can’t ask anyone else to risk their lives.”

When a serving girl walked past with a bottle of Mountain Magic, Logan snatched it off her tray. The girl looked up in surprise. “It’s all right, I’ve paid for it,” Logan assured her, uncorking the bottle and taking a swig. He swallowed down the golden liquid and let out a satisfied sigh as he glanced back at Rhoswen. “If ye three as well as yer faither are accompanied by a few Scots, ye can vouch for them when ye take the bodies back to England yerself. Ye’re nobles so ye’ll be believed. I’ll make sure to find a few men to go as guards who will keep ye safe throughout yer travels back to the border if ye promise to vouch for them.”

“Nay!” she protested, not willing to go back to England before they’d fulfilled their important mission. “Thank you, but I won’t need your guards after all.”

“Believe me, ye do,” said Logan. “Ye saw what happened to yer men. But Scottish guards willna be overtaken so easily and they can protect ye on this side of the border. Scotland is no place for ye, lass, so ye need to take yer people and leave anon.”

“I cannot do that,” said Rhoswen softly, thinking about their reason for being there in the first place. “We were making our way to the Highlands when we were attacked. We’ll continue on in our journey as soon as my father is able to travel.”

“Och, the Highlands?” asked Ethan, cocking his head. “Why would ye be goin’ there of all places?”

Rhoswen bit her tongue and cursed herself inwardly. She’d already said too much. “Does it really matter?” she asked, not wanting to tell them more. She didn’t even know if she could trust them.

“Blethers, ye truly are daft,” said Logan, taking another draw from the bottle. “Ye need to turn around and go back to England as quickly as ye can, and never look back.”

“I’m afraid that is not possible,” she answered, raising her chin in the air. She would not let these Scots frighten her. Nothing would keep her from her goal.

“Why no’?” asked Hawke. “Unless ye want to end up like yer guards, I suggest ye do as Logan says.”

Rhoswen couldn’t tell them the truth why they’d come, because she’d promised her father she’d keep it a secret. The less people who knew, the better since they didn’t know which Scots might be aligned with Clan Drummond. She needed to speak to her father and find out what they should do since the sword was gone and now they had nothing with which to barter. At the same time, she felt like she had to say something to Logan and his friends to satisfy them, so she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

“I cannot go back to England because . . . I am betrothed to a Scot.”

“Betrothed?” asked Logan in surprise.

“Aye. I am on my way to marry a Highlander if you must know. If I turn around now, I’ll break the alliance. I don’t want a war between our people.”

Logan laughed. “Unless ye are blind, lass, look around ye. Our countries have been fightin’ forever. It’s a way of life so just get used to it. Dinna be so daft to think yer betrothal is goin’ to make a difference.”

“Are you saying that Scots don’t keep their words?” she asked him.

“Well, nay,” said Logan, looking at his friends for help.