Page 32 of The Torment of a Scottish Warrior
“I have other places to hide them. I’ll send the captives to Tiree or Morvern because the Granthams know we’re here, and we can’t let them reclaim them. If Clan Grant sends their forces to Mingary, we cannot battle them yet, even with Glenna’s menarriving soon. If we have the bairns hidden, they’ll not kill us all. Do not worry. But I’m not sitting still any longer. After what that fool did to my beloved Glenna, a one-handed idiot now, there is retribution to be paid. Gather the men and ready them to row shortly. Ready the ships too.”
Samuel did as he was instructed, so Kelvan made his way down to the best ship, waiting for the men to come along and row. He knew Duart Castle well by now. From the right spot, one could climb up the bank to a side of the wall where a perfect set of trees grew. He could sit in one and wait. He supposed Samuel could do it, but no one was as smart as Kelvan. All the past blunders were glaring evidence of this truth.
He’d lie in wait at Duart Castle, see what the bastards thought of him then. When the time was right, he’d have twenty men climb over the walls and bring chaos to the courtyard. It was a fine day, so some bairns would be outside playing.
Kelvan considered his plan again, certain it would work. Why, it was a brilliant plan that no one else could have thought of. And sitting here watching Glenna fail more and more each day was proving too difficult for him. The dumb healer he’d found to treat her put a salve on her stub after he sewed what he could, then said there was naught more he could do. Kelvan had to do something. She had the coin to pay all the men they’d hired, and he didn’t know exactly where she kept it all.
It was time to make his move.
A short time later, they manned three galley ships after giving orders to the captain of each boat. They were to sit outside the castle and wait for his instructions. He would climb the tree and give the whistle when he wished for them to advance.
They headed down the Sound of Mull toward Craignure, slowing because the afternoon boat was approaching. He smiled after it landed, men leading horses from the lower level while others carried multiple crates and set them aside.
One haughty woman, white-haired and graceful, left the boat, hanging on to a huge man’s arm. Kelvan had no idea who either one was, but he’d wager they were headed to Duart Castle. If he was correct, this would give him the exact circumstances he needed.
Some of the men were guards, and they fussed over the crates, settling them in rented carts to take to their destination. The bear of a man with long dark hair and a full beard lifted the woman onto a mare as if she were but a feather. Then he strode over to his own stallion and fed the animal a treat, patting its flank. Kelvan snorted, wondering why he would waste the treat on an animal, though he had to admit that the chestnut-colored beast was a beauty if Kelvan had ever seen one.
Where the hell did these Highlanders find such magnificent stallions? One snort from the animal would scare a woman into pishing in the path, he swore.
The man barked orders, then mounted his horse, leading the woman up the incline and heading toward Duart. Just as Kelvan had thought.
Perhaps the woman was Logan Ramsay’s sister. If so, he’d put a dagger in her throat if he got the chance. Then he decided she was too fine and fair to be a Ramsay.
He didn’t care who she was. Once the ship unloaded, took on its new passengers, and headed back to Oban, Kelvan whistled and motioned for their three vessels to head toward Duart. They already knew where to go, knew they were to wait for him to move up the hill to the castle to assess the situation before he would give the sign to attack.
Retribution would be his soon.Start the war, bastards.It was all their fault that Glenna was half daft in bed.
Chapter Seventeen
Merryn
Two days after the attack, Merryn sat at the table, working on her letters, when Broc came in from the lists, working hard on his sword skills. She’d never known anyone who worked as hard as he did. He grabbed an ale and moved over to take a seat next to her.
Kyla and Dyna were by the hearth watching the bairns: Sandor, Tora, Sylvi, Lia, Shealee, and Magni. Shealee’s giggles were like music to Merryn’s ears. Every once in a while, the lass would run over and set her head in Merryn’s lap, but then she would run back to her new friends.
It was almost as if the lass recalled losing her mother and feared losing Merryn too.
Logan hung on, fever raging through him so badly that some thought the worst. Gwyneth hadn’t left his side, and Eli only came out when she needed to eat or get a hug from Alaric. Eli carried their first bairn, a wee mound to her belly, and Alaric protected her as if she were a bairn herself.
“How are your letters coming? We can work on it again later, if you like.”
Merryn glanced up at Broc, the man who was causing all the oddest feelings inside her that she didn’t know what to think of.
Except that he surely grew more handsome every day. Was that possible?
“Just a moment, Merryn. I have to tell Dyna something.” Broc turned around and strode over to the hearth.
Merryn’s gaze locked on his swagger as he made his way across the hall. “Mama, Dyna, I noticed a line of horses headed in this direction. It could be Aunt Brenna.”
Dyna jumped up and clapped her hands. “Oh, thank the Lord above. We need her poultices and potions.”
The door flew open and everyone jumped. A large man filled the doorway. Tall with massive shoulders, he had dark hair nearly to his shoulders and a full beard. “Where’s my brother?”
“Uncle Micheil!” Eli flew across the hall into his arms just as a tall, thin woman stepped in behind him. Micheil moved back and took her bags and her arm to support her.
“Aunt Brenna! We’re so glad to see you!”
Avelina flew down the stairs and people popped in and out to greet the two. Broc had explained the elders in the Ramsay family to Merryn. Quade had married Brenna Grant and, as eldest, was the clan chieftain. Logan was next, then Micheil. Avelina, or Lina, was the baby of the family.
