“Ye will keep us safe, will ye nae, Aine?” He put the brush away in his bag and looked up to see Sean watching him, one dark eyebrow raised.
“Brother, I see ye have a heart.” Eamon froze for a moment, embarrassed to have been caught in such a sentimental moment.
He cleared his throat. “Aye, I didnae leave it behind, although I tried.”
No one spoke for a moment before Sean said, “Come, the men are ready tae leave. Bring yer horse out.”
Eamon nodded and began to saddle Aine, the sound of worn leather stretching gave Eamon a little comfort. Sean paused at the doorway and turned back. “Thank ye, brother. For giving me time with Rose.”
Then he left, and Eamon smiled to himself. He clucked to Aine conspiratorially, and then in ten minutes, he met the group by the edge of the village. Sean was facing them on his horse. “Scots, I ken I am nae yer true leader, but I ask ye tae come with me now and fight for our freedoms. Lord Cutler comes tae kill us all and wipe clean our names from the face of the Earth. I ken ye have worked hard for yer freedom from our past life. I want that for ye just as much as I want it for myself and my family. Come. Fight one last battle against our hated enemies. ,When we return, we will build our village of peace!”
The men and women cheered in response to Sean’s rousing speech, and Eamon followed after Sean as he trotted down the hill towards the thickness of the forest. Eamon rode alongside his brother and said, “Yer people follow ye instantly. They have nae qualms about their imminent death.”
“They are brave souls, but I fear that their resolve may weaken. Many of them have been fighting for this village for a long time. They wanted out of the fighter’s and the robber’s life. They only wanted Peace. We shall see who remains in the end.”
Eamon felt a sick sense of dread creep over him at Sean’s dark words, but he kept his eyes on the path, gripping the leather reins in his hand. They would meet his men soon, and hopefully, they would give Sean the extra hope he needed. It was not a far road to the MacManus clan, but they had to make it through the dense forest first, and it darkened the air around them even in the light afternoon sun. It created an ominous shroud as their horses cantered downhill. The earlier cheer of the party was subdued by the heaviness of the forest air.
The trees were lined on either side of the path, and their branches intertwined thickly overhead until the sun was nearly blocked out. All were silent, and Eamon said quietly, “I wonder why ye made yer village so close tae such a place. It gives off a foreboding air. Many wouldnae dare tae walk through it.”
Sean smiled. “Aye, that was the point, lad. I had hoped tae dissuade my enemies from continuing through. The only problem is we must cross through it if ever we need tae travel. We didnae think of that so much when we built.”
Eamon laughed, and his short burst of mirth felt odd in such a melancholy place, but it lightened his own heart. He did not want to think of death, his own, or his dear brother’s. He would prefer if he had to die, for he knew he deserved death long ago, but for some reason, something lingered in him that told him his time was not yet done.
That bolstered his courage for a while, and he clicked Aine into a quicker pace as they finally entered through MacManus clan borders. “Brother, once we arrive, I need tae send out a man tae give word tae my men tae meet us, as well as see if he can find anything of the boy or Cutler’s men.”
Sean nodded. “Aye.” He called Donovan forward. “Donovan, send out Gareth. He needs tae ride tae the closest tavern tae give word tae Eamon’s men. Tell them we will meet them at first light outside the tavern.”
Eamon added, “Also, tell him he needs tae ride toward the main road and see if he can spy Cutler’s men or even my spy. If he does so, then tell him we will meet Cutler tomorrow, but ask if there is any news.”
Donovan nodded and rode back towards another man in the group.
Sean and Eamon spun back to hear a booming voice. “The Wanderer has come tae call, I see!” Dougal MacManus, a very large man in both girth and height, opened his arms wide at the sight of Sean, Eamon, and the rest of the men. Their horses were paused at the edge of his village, a stone fortress looming in the background, and Sean dismounted.
He bowed before the older man and said, “Laird MacManus, I come bearing news, and I’m afraid it is nae good news.”
Dougal patted Sean on the back and turned him towards the fortress. “When is it ever good in these parts, lad? Bring yer men. We shall feast taenight. Ye will stay with us?”
“If it is nae too much trouble.” Sean motioned to Eamon, and Eamon alighted quickly, handing Aine’s reins to the man beside him. Eamon walked up beside him, and Sean said, “Laird, this is my brother, Eamon Wilson. He has come tae give us the warning of which we need tae tell ye.”
Dougal frowned, watching Eamon. He stared level with Eamon for a while. Eamon knew he did not look the part of the upright man, but there was nothing to do about it now. He had tied his hair back in an attempt to seem less roguish, but it apparently had no effect. “Come inside, men. We shall discuss taegether over food and wine.”
They wandered through the fortress, and Eamon was amazed at the sight. He had not been in an impressive building since he had left his family years before. Fires were crackling in the hearths, and servants were moving about hurriedly, performing quick tasks before moving on to another. Dougal waved a young man over and said, “Boy, make sure The Wanderer’s group is seen to food, drink, the stables, and provide them places tae sleep. There are women in the company. They must be separated.”
The boy hurried off, and Eamon was satisfied that The Scots would be cared for. He didn’t want to see them starve or freeze to death on the eve of battle. He kept silent as Dougal began speaking of happenings in the area, from cattle thieves to murderers. “My men do the best they can, but it is becoming too much for them, I believe. It seems that the unrest is growing. And nae in any small part tae the flyers I have been seeing nailed up in various parts, calling for a new rebellion against the British.”
Eamon’s eyes snapped up to Dougal’s face, and he thought of the young boy, knowing now that Cutler was close. They sat in a small room on the far side of the main hall, and food was brought to them. A woman came and filled their wine glasses as well before scampering off wordlessly. “How recently have ye seen these papers, and where did ye see them?” Eamon asked, and Dougal looked taken aback at such an interruption. “Laird MacManus,” Eamon added quickly and stole a glance at Sean.
Dougal pursed his lips as he watched Eamon thoughtfully. “It has been for a few weeks now, but only in the last day have I seen it as close as a half-day’s journey from here. For some reason, the informant is spreading their news here. Did they nae hear of Culloden? Did they nae see the bloodshed or know what ties we lairds had tae take tae save our clans?” Dougal shook his head, and Eamon almost agreed with him.
The boy was yet young and had not seen enough of life yet to know that sometimes it was simply cruel or even worse. Hopeless. The British had won Culloden and so had tried to squelch every last bit of Highland life from the Northern lands. There were still tiny rebellions, but to call upon a revolution was a strange and mighty thing indeed, even if it did make a fire burn in Eamon’s heart.
“That means Cutler is close, Sean,” Eamon whispered to his brother, and Sean nodded.
Eamon drank his wine while Sean spoke. His fears were growing by the moment, and the thick liquid helped to ease the building tension. “Laird MacManus, I am glad ye too have seen the papers that fill the countryside. It is related tae our reason for coming here. We believe we know who is posting them. We have a warning of someone who comes tae kill.”