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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Aindreas
Aindreas rode his horse faster down the dirt path. Sorcha shuddered in front of him. He had no idea where the MacAlister’s had made their camp, only that he needed to find it. Glancing over his shoulder, he could barely make out Castle Lachlan in the distance; however, if MacAlister’s soldiers were camped anywhere in the vicinity, it was still too close for comfort. He urged his focus forward, trying not to think about Blair waiting for him and how much he wanted to be in her arms.
“There!” Sorcha shouted while pointing in the distance towards a forest. “They should be just beyond there.”
Aindreas frowned. The camps were much closer than Cambel had predicted. With a whole army in tow, they would have been upon Castle Lachlan’s walls by tomorrow’s nightfall. The Cambels wouldn’t have time to gather their army and protect MacBean’s fortress.
Everything would have been for naught.
Aindreas rode his horse harder, flicking the reins and spurring them faster.
“I fear I do not know the exact location,” said Sorcha while gathering her hair and tucking it into her cloak to keep them from whipping through the strong winds.
“‘Tis fine,” Aindreas grunted. “If they have an army, we shall find them.”
He urged his horse off the path, racing towards the trees in the distance. His horse slowed as they pushed through the forest. Both Aindreas and Sorcha ducked their heads underneath the branches. Silence permeated around them. Shadows flickered through the bushes.
Aindreas jumped from his mount, grabbing the reins and leading his horse through the rough terrain. He stilled at the snapping of twigs nearby, jerking around and finding a fox’s eyes gleaming in the darkness. The creature padded softly away, hiding itself in a bush.
Aindreas turned his attentions forward. He focused on his breath, trying to calm it. With Sorcha on his mount, he shouldn't have anything to fear. MacAlister would surely be overjoyed. An owl hooted above them before fluttering away, making Aindreas’s anxieties grow the longer he stood in the forest.
“Where to now, Sorcha?” he whispered while looking through the dark trees, not knowing where to go or how to leave this place.
“I’m sorry, my laird, but I fear I do not know.”
Aindreas frowned as he stepped forward. It was too quiet. Even the creatures of the night were acting withdrawn as if the MacAlister men had already stepped foot in their territory. He heard a growl to his left and withdrew his sword, hoping whatever it was, whether it be fox or wildcat, it remained far from them.
He wondered if he should turn back and resume his quest in the morning, perhaps gather more men, but quickly shook that thought away. If he were to leave now, Laird Cambel would surely never permit his daughter to leave his sight, and they would be wed in the next coming days.
It had to be now.
Aindreas straightened and walked through the forest, ignoring the snapping twigs and the rustling branches as he continued. Sorcha whimpered behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the lass’s large eyes searching the area as if she too feared what lay within the forest’s darkness.
“Do not worry, my lady,” Aindreas whispered to her. “I will protect ye from the creatures of the night.”
Sorcha frowned, her fear not easing. “The creatures are not what worry me, my laird. What if we stumble upon the fae, and they hold us captive for years to come?”
Aindreas smiled and shook his head. “Yer too superstitious, my lady Sorcha.”
“I have reason to be.”
Aindreas’s smile fell. Fear once again clawed through him, but he ignored it. He was doing this for Blair. Sweet Blair, who was most likely lying in bed, having sweet dreams of their future together. A future he never expected for himself. He needed to succeed in his endeavors.
“Look!” Sorcha whispered harshly, pointing towards a light in the distance.
Red flames flickered beyond the trees. Men’s gruff voices greeted Aindreas’s ears, and he rushed forward, his horse moving quickly through the trees. They burst from the bushes and into the meadow lying beyond the forest’s borders. Aindreas’s eyes widened as he set eyes upon the hundreds of MacAlister men camped before him.
Several MacAlister flags stood in the distance. The red eagle insignia flashed in the distance. The men were clothed in red and green tartans while they gathered around the fire, drinking their ale and singing old songs. None bothered to look their way as Aindreas stared on, filled with both shock and awe.
“Wait here,” said Aindreas while dropping his reins. “I will find Laird MacAlister for ye.”
“Nae, I will go with—“
Aindreas shook his head. “Let me speak with him man to man, Sorcha.” His frown deepened when he noticed her chin jutting out as if she would fight him on his decision. Aindreas sighed, and his head hung while he tried to think of the appropriate words. A lady of her upbringing didn’t belong in a warrior’s camp where she could see ladies of the night and soldiers relieving themselves.
“My laird, ye have helped me more than I ever expected. Please, let me go with ye.”
