Page 3 of Taken By her Highland Enemy

Chapter Two

On the road from Fort William, towards Inverness

“Stop! I wish to rest here.” Lord Cutler raised a gloved hand in the air, and he could hear the slowing of hooves as he and his men approached the stone tavern. It was adjacent to a grassy hill, and a curl of smoke lifted into the air as the evening settled in.

He dismounted, and the jangle of bridles and the stretch of leather echoed into the air. “Let’s see if these Scotsmen can prove their hospitality.” He grinned, and his lead man, Martin Dorset, grinned back.

“Yes, milord, but I’m certain it will not be the same as what you’d receive in England. They are country folk, unused to serving nobility.”

Lord Cutler nodded his head curtly, satisfied. He was a tall man, broad of the shoulder with dark hair and dark eyes that narrowed into slits whenever he spoke. It unnerved many a person, but Martin was used to the lord’s manners and quirks. Lord Cutler motioned to the back of him. “Tell the men to get their horses to the stables. Bring Isabelle here to me. I wish to eat with my daughter. Her lady’s maid can eat with the men once they sort out the horses.”

Martin nodded and scurried off to do his bidding, and Lord Cutler pushed open the door of the tavern to a surprised innkeeper. A few guests lingered at tables around the establishment, and all of them looked towards the door, their eyes wide.

“Aye, Sir? Can I help ye?” The innkeeper asked, and Lord Cutler pinned with him a dark glare as he walked up to him.

“I have many men here to feed. Our horses need to be fed, watered, and brushed. I want a hot meal and your finest ale. We shall pay you handsomely. And we need a bit of information, but I will ask later, once my belly is full.” Lord Cutler opened his gloved hand to show a gold coin lying in the center. But then he closed his hand again once the innkeeper got a look at it.

He enjoyed taunting the workmen he came into contact with. They had never seen so much wealth in their lives, and if he wanted them to do their duty properly, then he had to prove to them that he could pay. Not that he always did.

The innkeeper put down the tankard he was drying, and he nodded. “Aye, Sir. Right away.” The innkeeper scuttled off, and Lord Cutler sat down close to the hearth and set his feet up on the chair next to him. A mug of ale was brought to him soon after, and without glancing up at the person who brought it, he grabbed onto the mug and took a deep long sip. He began to grumble.

Where is Isabelle? That girl will give me no end of trouble. She is probably giving money to the beggars lingering outside. I had hoped to instill a harder heart in her, for a soft one will do her no service in this world, but alas.

A woman with long dark hair braided down her back entered the tavern, wonder in her eyes. She looked around the low-ceilinged room and smiled. She was diminutive but womanly, and anyone could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was born of noble blood.

Lord Cutler waved at her from across the room, and she colored before finding her way to him. “Father. Isn’t this wonderful? I thank you again for bringing me on this journey, for I had such a yearning to see how the Scottish people in the countryside live. Such industry and hardness to it. I’m amazed!”

Lord Cutler wiped his ale from his mouth with the back of his hand. Plates of steaming hot ham and bread were set before them. “Isabelle, you mustn’t be in awe of such things. Lurking just below the surface, these people are bloodthirsty and have no education nor morality. They would as soon cut your throat as look at you. You must keep a wary eye on them all. We are here on a mission of revenge for our King. Do not forget that!”

He pointed to her before beginning to eat. The excitement left her face a little, and she began to eat as well, chewing slowly and quietly. “How much further will it be, Father?”

He grunted. “I am not entirely certain. Martin thought he knew the way, but he is confused by the hills here. We will have to ask the innkeeper if there is anything that they can tell us, though I hate to depend on their generosity.”

“But you will pay them, of course, won’t you, Father?”

He nodded but did not look at her. Isabelle gave him the oddest feeling from time to time that she was rebuking him. Now that her mother was long gone, he often feared that she had taken his wife’s place and endeavored to try and change him. He spotted the innkeeper once more, returning from where he had disappeared to. He saw his men begin to wander in and take their places amongst the empty tables, moving those out of the way whose place they wanted.

He smiled to himself. His men were patiently selected by none other than himself. They were the most skilled, the most brutish, and the most intelligent of all the soldiers of his Majesty. They would find the man who killed the King’s nephew and his Majesty’s second proxy. Lord Cutler would not fail, not when these men were on his side, and wealth and status would be his forever.

He hailed the innkeeper who paled a little at the sight of it. The rather stout man approached the table with hesitation. “Aye, Sir?”

“I need that information,” Lord Cutler said, before taking another deep drink from his tankard.

The innkeeper nodded, and Lord Cutler wished he could slap the fat man’s face, for his cheeks were pink with fear. So like a woman.

“The Scots, the band of thieves. Surely, you’ve heard of them in these parts? I search for them and wish to know their whereabouts. My leader has gone astray, and we cannot find the way.”

The innkeeper swallowed, and Lord Cutler noticed his hesitation. The man glanced at Isabelle, who was merely staring back at him. “Do not look to my daughter for pity or to stall your words.” He held tightly to a dagger at his side. He could fillet the man alive if he hid something. He could tell he was trying to by the tightness of his shoulders, the sweat on his forehead, and the nervous clasping of his hands. “I can see you falter. What is it?”

The innkeeper shook his head and began to stutter. “No, Sir, ‘tis just that they are a fearsome lot. I dinnae wish for any trouble. I wish only for peace.”

Bloody idiot. “Peace will not be your reward if you do not give me what I seek. Where are they?” He was growing impatient now, and he could feel that familiar cold rage moving over him, holding him in its grasp. He was taut like the string of a bow, and he knew just what would happen if he were to snap.

The innkeeper swallowed again. “They were roaming about these parts for years, plundering and the like. But now, they have moved far intae the mountains with the one who is called The Wanderer. Tae the Northeast. Ye must take the road toward Inverness, but then there is a large cluster of trees along the path, dark and menacing. There ye must turn, afore ye cross the Loch. Ye will find them.”

Lord Cutler grinned. The Scots and The Wanderer all in one? Excellent. The King will be pleased. Cutler had not been certain of this fact, despite Martin’s assurances, but now he was convinced. He placed the gold coin down on the table with a slap. “There, that was not as difficult as you imagined.” The innkeeper’s eyes widened, and he took the coin gingerly.

“Best of luck with yer journey, Sir.”

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