Page 74 of Beguiled By the Highlander
The earl glanced at their contingent before catching his gaze once again. “I trust my own network, William, but it’s always best to be on guard. The information seemed too convenient.”
“A trap.” Aye, that was the elusive feeling he’d had on the ride here. “Damn those bastards.”
“Keep yer counsel. By the time it’s clear we’re avoiding the glen, it’ll be too late for the informer to warn the MacGregors.”
They returned to the men and set off, and within an hour were in sight of the glen. The earl raised his arm, his hand in a fist, and they drew to a halt.
“We’ll not be confronting the rebels in the glen,” the earl said, as he turned to face them. “They’re expecting us, I have no doubt. We’ll hunt them down in the mountains, where I wager they are lying in wait to ambush us.”
The earl gave his orders, and William and the men got in position. There was always the danger a scout had spotted them and warned the MacGregors, but that couldn’t be helped. God willing, they’d settle this once and for all this day.
The rain grew heavier, and the wind was bitter as William navigated his way up the treacherous slope. Their horses had been left at the foothills so as not to alert any hiding enemy of their approach, and he tightened his grip on his claymore as the elusive scent of impending battle thundered through his blood.
From the corner of his eye, he saw his clansmen stealthily making their way to strategic positions where an enemy would have a clear view of the glen below.
A movement ahead caught his focus, and he raised his arm in warning. Several of the men responded in kind.
His gut feeling had been right. The earl’s informant had intended to lead them into a trap.
Archers were poised to cut them down as soon as they’d entered the glen. It would not even have been a fair fight.
One archer swung about, dropped his bow, and grabbed his sword, but William gave him no quarter. More men leaped up from their hiding places, their strategy in tatters, and the clash of steel filled the air.
The mountain was a treacherous quagmire, and as another man lunged at William, it took all his skill to remain upright and not slide into the mud that sucked at his boots. Rain stung his eyes and mist twisted around the trees like skeletal fingers as he evaded the rebel’s sword before plunging his own blade deep in the man’s gut.
In the end, the battle was little more than a bloodied skirmish. When the rebels saw their fallen comrades, they fled, and William sucked in a great breath, scanning the men, searching for any of his own who had been slain.
Hugh came up to him and grasped his shoulder. “Are ye all right, man?”
“Aye. Ye?”
Hugh confirmed he was uninjured as David Cunningham and Douglas approached.
“Let’s hope this has shown old Torcall’s followers they’re backing a lost cause.” David wiped his sword on one of the fallen.
“Did we lose any of our men?” William glanced over the rest of the men as the earl made his way over.
“Robert’s injured, but nothing mortal,” David said.
“All the dead yonder are accounted for.” The earl nodded in the direction he had come from. “None of our own, thank God. We’ll take their bodies and leave them in the glen for their kin to collect.”
William grasped the arms of the nearest body, and Douglas grabbed the legs. As they edged down the mountain, he took a silent inventory of every man he saw. But someone was missing.As he dropped the body in the glen, next to the others, he hailed Hugh.
“Have ye seen Malcolm MacNeil?”
“Malcolm MacNeil of Barra?” Douglas said before his brother could respond. “What in hellfire are ye talking about, William? Malcolm died of the bloody flux nearly three years ago.”
William swung about and stared at Douglas as a paralyzing, black fear crawled through his gut. “What?”
“Aye, right in front of my eyes. ’Twas shortly after a skirmish with Gregor MacGregor before he took off with his kinsmen to Eire.”
“Then who the devil is the man using his name?” Hugh turned from his brother and grasped William’s arm. “That’s why he took off before we met with the earl. He knew Douglas would see through his masquerade.”
“Isolde.” Cold terror gripped William’s vitals as a horrifying vision of her welcoming the man into the castle unfolded in graphic detail in his mind. “Alan MacGregor’s returned to Creagdoun to take it from within.”
“What?” Shock thudded through Hugh’s voice. “Alan MacGregor is still alive? How can ye be so sure?”
He didn’t have time to explain how he knew. Every moment he delayed increased the danger descending upon Isolde. He swung about and ignored the earl who hailed him as he mounted his horse and took off as though every demon in hell was at his heels.
