Page 53 of Highland Spy

There was the sound of rustling coming from behind a small table. With his sword outstretched, Caleb led the way with the torch guiding him and Bridget clinging to his plaid. With one leg, he kicked the table over, expecting to see a man. Instead, he found Slink’s back end sticking out of one of the mens’ packs.

“Slink, what are ye doin’?” he asked with a chuckle, lowering his sword. “Och, I think we found our intruder,” he told Bridget.

“Slink made this mess?” asked Bridget, taking the torch from Caleb, so he could collect his pet.

“I’m afraid so,” Caleb answered. “Slink isna used to bein’ locked away all day. He was curious and probably searchin’ for food. Come here, ye little troublemaker.” He pulled Slink out of the bag to find something hanging out of the pine marten’s mouth. “What have ye got there?” he asked, taking some string from his pet.

“What is it?” asked Bridget curiously.

Caleb brought his open palm closer to the flame. “It looks like shavin’s of a . . . bowstring,” he said. He looked down to see a knife sticking out of the pack as well. “Bridget, today Ollie Fraser’s bowstring snapped durin’ the competition.”

“Aye, I ken,” she said. “It’s unfortunate.”

“Ollie is skilled at any weapon, and very guid at it. He’d never be careless enough no’ to notice he had a weak bowstring.”

“It was the saboteur again,” said Bridget.

“That’s right,” agreed Caleb. “And this is Henry MacDonald’s bag.”

“So, do ye think he’s the one doin’ all this?”

“I dinna ken,” said Caleb. “After all, the last evidence we found was in Ollie’s bag. I’m no’ sure what to think.”

“What the hell happened here?” growled Clement MacLean, walking into the room with a torch in his hand. Henry MacDonald and Angus MacKenzie were with him.

“I’m sorry, but my pine marten must have gotten frightened bein’ locked in the chamber and he tore up the room,” Caleb apologized.

“Stay away from my things,” growled Henry, picking his back up from the floor. When he did, his knife fell out.

“I think ye dropped somethin’.” Caleb picked up the knife and handed it to him, keeping the piece of bowstring hidden.

“That’s no’ mine,” snorted Henry. “And I dinna want to share a room with a dirty weasel. I’m goin’ to sleep outside in a tent.”

“Me, too,” said the other two men, grabbing their things and heading out the door.

“I’m sorry,” Bridget said to Caleb after they left. “Now it will make it harder to spy on them.”

“I’m no’ sorry,” said Caleb, walking over and picking up his pet. “Slink doesna like sharin’ a room anyway.”

“Caleb, my faither is sleepin’ and I was wonderin’ if ye’d like to go for a walk with me.”

“I could use some fresh air to clear my head,” he said, holding Slink in one arm and taking her hand in his other, heading out of the room. “Where do ye want to go?”

“Somewhere perhaps where we can . . . be alone?” She looked at him and smiled shyly.

“I would like that more than anythin’, lass. And I think I ken just the spot where no one will bother us.”

* * *

Bridget rode double on the horse with Caleb as they left the castle in the dark. Merry music could be heard coming from the great hall as well as the sound of the king’s low bellow as he laughed with the men and drank Mountain Magic.

The courtyard was nearly empty now, as most of the spectators went back to their homes for the night, and the rest of the clansmen either chose a space to sleep in the great hall or in the tents they’d pitched outside the castle’s gate.

“Shouldna we bring a torch?” asked Bridget, not sure where Caleb was taking her or how they’d get there in the dark.

“No need,” he said, over his shoulder. “We are no’ goin’ far, and the moonlight will guide our way even though I could find my way with my eyes closed.”

After a short while, Caleb turned off the road, slowing down and stopping at a small hut made of wattle and daub in a clearing at the foot of a hill.