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Chapter 9
Alastair awoke early the next morning, wanting to meet with his men before Fia noticed. He’d barely slept a wink, trying to keep an eye on her. His men were looking at her in lust. He didn’t like that.
“Alastair, why in God’s name did ye wake us so early?” complained Brohain, coming to join the rest of them quite far from the fire. “The sun hasna even risen yet.”
“Aye,” added Rhodric. “I’d rather be curled up on a blanket by the fire with the wench.”
Alastair looked over his shoulder at Fia. She was sleeping with the blanket wrapped around her and had one leg sticking out. Her gown rode up, showing off her long, lean leg covered by her hose. “Concentrate on our mission,” Alastair commanded. “Is everyone here? I need to go over our plan.”
Fia’s eyesfluttered open at the sound of Alastair’s deep voice. Quickly scanning the area, she realized it was not yet daybreak. All the men were gathered at the edge of camp talking softly. Straining her ears trying to hear them, she could only make out bits and pieces of what they said.
Then the wind shifted, and she was able to hear every word. Through partially closed eyes she watched as well as listened. They’d moved far from the fire for their meeting, and that told her they were discussing plans that they didn’t want her to hear.
“Earc rode out durin’ the night to meet with one of our informants,” Alastair told the men in a low voice. “We have the update on the battle.”
“What did ye find out?” asked Fearchar.
“The English are pushin’ the Scots up the coast and gettin’ closer to Edinburgh,” Niven relayed the information.
“But we’ve got the French helpin’ us,” said one of the men in the clan. “We dinna need to worry.”
“No’ true,” said Alastair. “The French only give us an extra thousand soldiers. Our sources say Richard has over nine thousand archers and nearly forty-six hundred men-at-arms. Our own king, Robert, is planning an ambush, but he kens as well as us that we are no match for those stinkin’ Sassenachs, even with our French alliance.”
“That’s right,” agreed Fearchar. “They moved faster than we thought. Our only hope is the ambush with the Highlanders waitin’ for the English in Fife.”
“How do we ken the English will go to Fife?” asked Niven.
Earc answered. “Richard is a boy. He doesna have half the bloodlust of his grandfaither. But his uncle, John of Gaunt, will push him to move toward Fife. I have received word from our contact that John has already suggested it.”
“Then we need to move north quickly,” Alastair told them.
“We’re no’ goin’ to stay and fight?” asked Brohain, crossing his arms over his chest. Fia recognized the man’s position as an act of defiance.
“Brohain, ye ken the plan,” Alastair reminded him. “We canna go against our king’s wishes. We are to spy and find out all we can and bring back word to the Highland clans waitin’ in Fife. Are ye goin’ to give me trouble?”
Brohain scratched his nose as he answered. “Nay, of course no’, my laird.”
Fia’s heart beat faster. He touched his nose when he answered! That meant he lied and was going to cause trouble for Alastair after all. Then she spied Brohain and his sidekick, Rhodric, with their fists clenched at their sides. That told her they weren’t going to be open to Alastair’s ideas. She didn’t need to hear their words because their body actions said it all.
“Guid,” answered Alastair, sounding as if he believed him. “Pack up quickly. We need to move out and head to the Highlands.”
“We havena eaten yet,” complained one of the men.
“We’ll stop along the way and eat later.” Alastair ran a weary hand through his hair. “I need to get back to the Highlands quickly.” Worry showed on his wrinkled brow.
“Ye said I, no’ we,” Brohain pointed out. “This all has to do with that wretched wench, doesna it?”
Alastair turned to look at Fia. She quickly squeezed her eyes closed hoping he hadn’t seen her watching them.
“Fia is a bonnie cailin, no’ a wretched wench,” Alastair told his men.
She smiled inwardly at hearing him say this.
“Ye said she was a hostage to exchange for yer faither,” said Rhodric. “Now ye sound as if ye are smitten with the lass.”
Fia’s eyes opened slightly as she waited for Alastair’s response. “Nay, I’m no’ smitten, just concerned. We can use her to bargain so the Grants will release my faither. She means naught else to me but the answer to all my problems.”
Fia’s heart sank in her chest. This wasn’t what she wanted to hear. But then Alastair pinched the bridge of his nose and pushed back his hair with one hand. He lied! His body actions just made it clear to her that she meant something to him after all and he didn’t want his men to know it.
