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sp; “Is he wealthy?”
“Aye. Wouldnae be sailin’ intae Fortershire if he wasnae,” Alec grinned.
“Seems like ye’re takin’ a big risk.”
“Big risk comes with big rewards, lad.”
Rory chuckled. “Is this ye doin’ one more big mission b’fore ye settle down intae ye’re Lairdship then?”
Alec looked over at him and snorted as he rolled his eyes. He scratched at his thick red beard then turned his face back out to the endless sea stretched out before him.
“Nay,” Alec said softly. “I’ll keep sailin’ as long as I can. I’ll sail for’ver if I can.”
“But ye ken ye cannae sail for’ver,” Rory reminds him. “Ye’ve duties back ‘ome.”
Alec sighed. He thought of the letter from his faither that was sitting atop the desk in his cabin—the letter imploring him to come home. As the only son of the Laird of Herlay, Alec had responsibilities at home. He would eventually inherit the title of Laird and the duty that went along with it.
But he wanted to put it off as long as he could. He wanted to live his life as he wanted, out on the open ocean. Free from the restrictions he knew would come with his life as the Laird of Herlay. Alec was not ready for it. Not yet.
“Daenae remind me,” he said. “Ye should get a bit of rest. We’ll make Fortershire b’fore long.”
Rory gave him a small smile and nodded before leaving the helm and going below, leaving Alec alone with the salty scent of the sea he loved so well.
They had anchored near the mouth of a sheltered cove that was close to the harbor of the English county of Fortershire. A thick cover of clouds had moved in from the west, blotting out the moonlight and providing them with cover as they took the longboats from the ship into the harbor.
Alec looked over at the other two boats; a total of thirty men were coming ashore with him. They were hardy, rugged men who could be counted on in a fight. They had been with Alec through more scraps than he could count, and the Crown in England wanted most of them for a variety of crimes. Despite what some might consider hard upbringings and checkered pasts, though, these were good men. Alec trusted them with his life, and he never thought twice about taking them on as crew.
“Soldiers,” Rory whispered in his ear, “two on thae dock.”
“Bows,” Alec ordered quietly.
He watched as two men in the bow of each boat rose to their knees and nocked an arrow. They all drew back, pulling their arrows, sighted their targets, and held, waiting for Alec’s command.
“Hold,” he whispered urgently. “Hold.”
The torches hanging on the pillars of the pier illuminated the soldiers perfectly. They had their backs turned to the harbor and the flickering torchlight glinted off the bottle they were passing back and forth between them.
For bein’ thae men who protect thae ‘arbor, they’re doin’ a shite job of it.
The tension of the moment tied a knot in Alec’s gut and filled his veins with a feeling like liquid fire. He lived for moments like this. Lived for the excitement of a fight. Little else in this world made him feel so alive.
The longboats drew closer to the docks, moving under the cover of darkness, the gentle splash of the oars quiet but Alec knew the sound would become obvious soon enough.
“Fire,” he ordered.
The soft twang of the bows sounded in his ears and a moment later, he watched the two soldiers on the dock twitch and jerk, silently falling into the water below.
“Thae dock is ours,” Rory grinned.
The men rowed the boats to the dock and quickly jumped out, tying the lines to the posts to secure them. Once that was done, the men all climbed out of the boats and secured their weapons to their belts and bodies, getting themselves ready for the coming fight.
Alec looked around, smiling at the grim determination on the faces of his men. They were set and they were ready to take the fight to the Viscount.
“All right, lads,” Alec said. “Let’s go see thae Viscount.”
And with that, they set off. They moved swiftly and quietly through the streets of the town. At one point, Alec split off, leading a group of ten toward the marshes that surrounded the town while Rory took the rest of their fighters toward the main gates of the Viscount’s manor.
The plan was for Rory and his men to stay hidden, out of sight of the soldiers who manned the walls that surrounded the large manor until Alec gave them the signal. Alec was moving through the marsh and forest to the east of the walls. Because of the natural features of the land, Alec knew that side of the Viscount’s manor was not heavily guarded–nobody would march an army through that slop.
