Page 102 of Bride of Mist
After a wee bit of persuading and half a loaf of clapbread after all, Campbell agreed to help her. He would speak to other trustworthy folk who were of like mind—men-at-arms, archers, craftsmen, servants—and let them know to be on alert for an uprising in the next few days.
She assured him, with growing confidence now, that the forces of the warriors of Rivenloch would take their side.
Then she asked him to identify someone who could readily enter and exit the castle. Someone whose comings and goings wouldn’t be questioned. Someone known and liked in the villages surrounding Darragh.
Campbell humbly admitted that would be him. He often exercised the horses for the knights, riding them out to the villages. He confessed he sometimes pilfered food from Gaufrid’s kitchens to give to the hungry crofters.
Only then did Feiyan realize just how dire the situation at Darragh had become and the extent of Gaufrid’s cruelty.
A laird had one chief responsibility—looking after the clan. And the clan included anyone who resided on clan land. Villagers. Tradesmen. Crofters. Even beggars.
To rescind that responsibility, to withhold protection, or even worse, to starve and impoverish those reliant on the laird, was a crime of the worst sort.
Gaufrid mac Darragh had taken his villainy one step further. He’d murdered his own clan folk and driven off the one man capable of saving them. He’d tried to destroy their hero.
There was just one problem. Their hero had returned.
Feiyan’s smile as she strode toward the great hall was grim and full of dark promise.
Dougal noted the resemblance at once. The dark-haired lad confronting him with smoldering gray eyes, a bold tongue, and a naked blade looked just like his sister.
“Ye’re a Rivenloch,” Dougal realized. “Andye,”he said, eyeing the tall, somber lad holding Urramach’s reins. “Ye’re not the king. Ye’re a horse thief.”
The lad straightened proudly. “I paid good coin for the horse. ’Tis mine by rights.”
He might not be the king. But the handsome lad had the royal bearing to carry off the disguise. It was no wonder he’d fooled the innkeepers.
“Where is she?” the young one asked again. “Where’s Feiyan?” His voice broke over her name, and it was hard to tell whether it was from his awkward age or because he was worried about his sister.
It was futile to pretend Dougal didn’t know what they were talking about. They’d obviously been shadowing Feiyan for days, just as he’d suspected. Despite her insistence that no one would miss her, the people of Rivenloch had noted her absence at once and come looking for her.
And of course, they’d managed to show up at the worst possible time. When she was nowhere to be found.
“Answer him,” the older lad growled.
Dougal didn’t dare tell them what he assumed. That Feiyan had foolishly gone to confront Gaufrid on her own. The last thing he wanted was for the full forces of a warrior clan to descend upon Darragh without warning.
There would be a bloodbath.
Gaufrid knew nothing about hostage negotiations. Once whispers of “Rivenloch” circled the castle, the Fortanachs would likely desert him to save their own arses. And his brother, flustered by the responsibility of leadership, incapable of making rational decisions, would commit some heinous act that would cost lives and start a war.
“Answer me,” the young lad demanded impatiently, brandishing his sword, “or I swear—”
“Adam!” the older lad barked, staying the younger’s arm. “He’s no use to us dead. Besides, he’s unarmed.”
Dougal held up his hands to show them he meant no harm.
“So were our clansmen,” Adam snarled, “when he slashed through their ranks with his bloody claymore.”
The lad was right. Dougal deserved every bit of the wrathful glare Adam was giving him.
“You owe us the truth,” the older lad said.
“Just tell me, did you kill her?” Adam asked. This time the crack in his voice was from dread. “So help me God, if you hurt Feiyan, I’ll—”
“Nay! I didn’t touch… I didn’t hurt your sister.” He couldn’t say he’d never touched her. Hell, he’d had his hands all over Feiyan. “As far as I know, she’s unharmed.”
He hoped that was true. But he could tell by the lads’ dubious scowls that his claim wasn’t very convincing.
