Page 17 of The Guardian's Witch

Ramon nodded his command. His men killed the remaining raiders.

Alex, with Gareth and Robby at his side, looked on in disbelief. He took stock of the area. None of the raiders survived. Alex and his men moved toward the Mitchells, who were speaking to the man who’d attacked him. Anger raced through him like a tempest by the time he reached the father and son, “There was no need to kill them all,” he said as he approached them. “They could have provided valuable information.”

“I didn’t need to hear more. What I saw was plain enough. Here—” Ramon waved his hand over the bodies, “—are your Scots, Alex. Anyone can see who they are.”

Alex crouched down and, using the tip of his dirk, roughly brushed up the hair on the back of the dead man’s head. One by one he searched the nape of each neck. “Yes, they wear Scots clothes.”

He absentmindedly wiped the blade across the dead man’s chest before he tucked it into the sheath on his belt. He stood and looked from corpse to corpse as if he waited for them to stand and give an accounting. “But they’re not Scots.” A momentary wave of relief washed over him followed by an oddly primitive warning that sounded in his head. If not Scots, then who were they, and what did they want?

“What do you mean? Of course they’re Scots.” Bryce looked at his father, then at his men. “Get rid of these bodies.” He flung his hand out in an exasperated gesture. He turned to Alex with a calm but annoyed look in his eyes. “Why’re you here? What were you thinking?”

“These men sacked John’s farm and left his boy for dead. Suffice it to say they led us here. When I realized they were heading toward your farms I took action.”

“We thought you were one of them. My man nearly killed you.”

“I don’t see how he could have mistaken me for a raider. Nonetheless, I’m glad you arrived when you did.” He kept his voice calm, deadly calm. He motioned to the headless body. “What did this man say to you to make you kill him? Surely he was worth keeping alive.”

“He provoked me, the insolent wretch. I thought we had the information we needed. Besides, getting rid of the vermin pleased me.”

“It’s not like you. You always interrogate the enemy. I thought you enjoyed it,” Alex said. “I want to know who is behind all this.”

Bryce threw his arm around his friend. “Forgive me, Alex. It was impulsive.” He squeezed Alex’s shoulder. “I too am glad I arrived when I did.”

“I thought for certain I would feel his blade. What made him stop?”

“It seems your charm saved you. It blinked at him.”

He gave Bryce and Ramon a blank stare.

“He told me the eye etched on the stone blinked when it caught the sunlight. I’m certain the heat of the battle played tricks.” They walked on a ways. “I may start having all my soldiers wear stones. You’re a lucky man.”

Alex forced his hand not to touch the stone.

“I was so certain they were Scots.” Bryce shook his head.

Alex let the words linger. But who were they and who commanded them?

Chapter Six

“Sir, an emissary from the king just passed through the town gate and is on his way here.” Alex looked up from his estate books at Peter. The ciphers weren’t particularly difficult but there wasn’t much room for error. He concentrated on calculating food stores. With everyone inside the gate, keeping them fed was a priority.

“Very good.” He rubbed the back of his neck. He had stared at the same number for some time but he couldn’t keep his mind centered. His soldiers were thinly spread among all the farms. He must be careful or there wouldn’t be enough men to guard the castle. He threw down his quill in exasperation. He’d think on it later. He left his desk and headed to the castle steps to greet the king’s man. What could Edward want?

In the distance he noted Lisbeth. Bryce was by her side.Good.He wanted to speak to Bryce and get his opinion on the new Glen Kirk ale. He would check with his brewer later in the day and see if it was ready for tasting.

“M’lord.” A familiar dignified man dismounted and approached Alex, a wide grin on his face.

“Howard, how good to see you.” He rushed down the steps to greet his family’s longtime friend. “You’re a long way from court. What brings you to Glen Kirk?”

“I bring you greetings and a message from His Majesty,” said Howard as he took Alex’s outstretched hand.

The old courtier’s hand still felt strong. “Come inside. You can warm by the fire,” Alex exclaimed with pleasure.

“My legs could use some stretching. I’ve been on that horse too long. A bit of warmth would be good too.” They walked up the stairs. “I can’t stay long. I’m doing the king’s business and must be on my way.”

“You must share a tankard of ale with me.” Alex matched his stride to the older man’s and they made their way across the stone porch into the castle.

“Ah, Wesley’s ale is legendary. I’ll not pass up a tankard.” Howard rubbed his hands together.

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