Page 7
Chapter 2
Lands near Glenkeld Castle, Loch Awe, summer 1308
Marjorie pulled back the string of her bow. The tip of her arrow was pointed at the stag grazing between the trees, his antlers a giant crown on his head.
The air was ripe with the scent of flowers, deer dung, and rotting tree trunks. Birds chirped, and the wind rustled through the leaves. Sunlight fell through the branches onto the grass and tree trunks, and the hair on the stag’s body glistened where the sunrays fell on them.
Marjorie made herself breathe deeply to fight the violent drumming of her heart against her ribs. She imagined it wasn’t the big, graceful animal with the crown of antlers beautiful enough to decorate a king’s great hall. Instead, she imagined Alasdair MacDougall standing there with his back to her.
She often imagined the man when she trained with her sword, imagined piercing him with her weapons and bringing the most excruciating of deaths to him.
In her mind, he fought back every time. Now, just like the stag, he didn’t. He stood there unaware of her presence. The arrow was in the perfect position to meet the target, but she couldn’t let it fly.
Despite her years of sword, archery, and combat training, she’d never attacked and killed anyone. All she’d done was train. This stag would be her first truly large kill. She’d only hunted fowls and hares before.
Just do it already.
Marjorie let out a long, slow breath, making the last estimations of the flight of the arrow in her mind’s eye. Everything was ready. The coarse string rubbed against her cheek as she pulled it back just a little.
Let go.
The stag raised his head and looked east.
Voices.
It took off.
“Oh, damnation!” Marjorie cursed and lowered her bow.
Tamhas and Muir, the clunky fools, must be looking for her. She may as well head back. She was alone outside the walls of Glenkeld Castle for the first time in ten years. Her father and three brothers Craig, Owen, and Domhnall, were north in the Highlands, fighting for King Robert the Bruce together with the rest of Cambel clan. Ian, her dear cousin who’d been fostered with her family for almost his whole life, had been killed in a battle with the damned MacDougalls soon after she’d been saved from Alasdair.
The warrior in her wished she were off fighting for her king with them, and finally using her years of combat training. Instead, she’d been left in charge of Glenkeld Castle, which both terrified and excited her, because together with the castle, she was responsible for protecting Colin, her son.
The sense of danger prickled against her skin as she quickly looked around. She better hurry to Tamhas and Muir. It had been pretty stupid of her to separate from them, but she’d wanted to test herself, to see if she was strong enough, if she was ready. The truth was, she’d been afraid of walking alone outside the castle walls ever since her clan brought her back from Dunollie. She was ashamed of her fear. Ashamed that she couldn’t conquer it. Separating from her bodyguards for this small mission was a step towards putting an end to it.
She put the arrow back in her quiver and the bow on her shoulder. The voices grew closer, and she went in that direction.
“There’s no moat, and the walls are nae high. With ladders, we’ll be in the castle in no time.”
She stopped. Those were not her bodyguards.
“Aye, and the top part of the wall is crumbled on the northern side. Chief will be pleased.”
She hid behind a tree trunk, her stomach churning, her breath ragged. Crumbled wall on the northern side… No moat… That described Glenkeld Castle.
Cold crawled down her spine.
“Aye. How much longer to the horses? Canna wait to bring the news to Dunollie. Chief wants to march soon and get his grandson.”
“Nae long.”
Dunollie… His grandson…
The ground shifted under her feet. Her knees melted, and her blood turned to ice. The nightmare that had crippled her whole life was coming for her again.
MacDogualls.
Where were her bodyguards?
