Page 9 of Taken By her Highland Enemy

Chapter Five

Early the next morning, Dougal MacManus did his best to look apologetic as he stood by the men on the outskirts of the fortress. “I cannae afford tae lose the men when the numbers are as dire as these. I thought on it last night in bed, and then when I heard my man’s news, I ken I couldnae give them tae ye. If Cutler’s men come here, then we will be left unarmed entirely with the others off in other parts of the country.”

Eamon and Sean nodded in understanding. Inwardly, Eamon was cursing his desire to hear from the spy last night. They could have gone and attacked Cutler’s men in secret. Even if they would not have succeeded, at least they would have killed many of the English men. That would have counted for something. Now, they were at a loss with hardly any fighters by their side after they’d run off in fear. If it wasn’t so dire, he could have smiled at the way he cursed MacManus for the very same thing he had done and to his own family.

Dougal tapped the side of Eamon’s horse. “I wish ye luck, lads. Might I suggest ye simply send word of yer coming tae Cutler, so that he knows yer on the move? He willnae wish tae return tae the village in that case?”

Sean nodded grimly. They had already had that in their minds. “Goodbye, Laird. I do wish for yer safety,” Sean said, and then he turned to the men and women behind him. “Scots, I know ye are a fearsome lot, but it is too risky. It is wise if ye go now and stay at the village tae protect it. We had nae notion of the numbers we were tae come up against. We feel it better if Eamon and I trick Cutler tae move away from this area until we can think of a new plan. I will send word if we need ye.”

Donovan rode up beside them and said, “I willnae go, Sean. I will stay. Rose would want me here, adding protection.”

“This is for protection.”

Gareth rode up as well. “I will come too. There is nae reason for our leader’s husband tae set out tae a fierce enemy with only his brother beside him and his brother’s men. We have the spy’s support as well, so perhaps there are others who will join us in our fight?”

Eamon turned to Sean. “This could be helpful, brother. What say ye?”

“Then ye may stay. But the rest of ye go. I thank ye for yer bravery, but ye may need tae be even braver later if any of Cutler’s men come for the village. Keep a sharp eye out in the forest both day and night.”

The group tried to protest further, but Sean gave them a sharp nod, and they left dismally. Even though their original numbers were small, Eamon couldn’t help but feel worried as the figures of The Scots slowly diminished into the distance. It was just four of them now until they met his own men. Even then, they would only be eight. It was a paltry number to come up against an armed and trained English force. Sean’s face did not betray the fear that Eamon was certain his brother felt, and they moved onward silently, Eamon leading the way to the tavern.

* * *

Isabelle awoke to her father’s bellowing voice as it shouted in anger at his men. “You idiots! What am I to do with broken men, and half of you dead!” She glanced at Arya, who had not yet awoken and peeked her head out of the tent. Her father was standing in the middle of their makeshift campsite, his face looking as though it was going to burst open, it was so red with anger.

Martin trembled beside his master, attempting to soothe his irritation as best he could. “But sir, I had no idea that they were going to the town. And even if I did, no one could have expected an outcome like this. Isabelle thought he looked like a tiny mouse trying to explain itself to a cat. It would have been laughable if not for the tension that filled the space. Her father was unpredictable even when he was in a pleasant mood, but when he was in a foul temper, there was no knowing what he might do next.

As a child, Isabelle remembered the fear that would cling to her constantly, and she tried to avoid him most of the time if she could. Her father grabbed Martin by his coat and breathed heated words into his face. “You were in charge of them, even if they are not part of our men. Now, we must go and enact vengeance upon the Scotsmen who killed English soldiers, or else the King shall have my head! Rebellion brews in these lands. You can see it on the trees and tavern walls everywhere!

His voice rippled across the space of the Loch, and once Isabelle heard the words, her heart lightened. Another gift from the Heavens! Now there is more time for The Scots to prepare! And father is angered by my work. She pulled her head back into the tent and roused Arya.

“Come! I need help to dress. I must speak with my father soon so that I know what his plans are. We move on! We will not head towards Scots land today! There is time and hope for them yet!” Arya rubbed the sleep from her eyes and assisted her mistress to dress as quickly as she could, but Isabelle kept twisting and moving with excitement.

Once Isabelle was ready, she said, “Wish me luck! For tonight I will need to send word again. I have agreed to meet with their rider tonight at the same place if something was to change. And so it has!” She fled out of the tent and hurried to her father’s. The men had now disbanded and were returned to their own sullen guard while she had been dressing. She hoped her father would be calm enough to give her at least some information.

Outside of his tent, Martin stood looking like a naughty schoolboy. He put a hand up when Isabelle tried to enter. “Isabelle, your father is in a foul mood. He will not wish to be disturbed.”

Isabelle tried to use her best and most alluring smile. “Martin, I only wish to have breakfast with my father as we do every morning. You know most assuredly that I have weathered many of his foul moods over the years, and I’m sure today is no different.” Martin was about to retort when she pushed by his hand and entered to find her father sitting behind his table, a bottle of wine in his hand.

His expression was a fearsome one, and many strangers who laid eyes upon it for the first time had trembled in fear, but she knew it well. She approached him slowly. “Father, may I join you for breakfast?”

He grumbled, “No! I do not eat this morning, for I am in a foul disposition, daughter. Why have you come?”

She smiled again, trying to keep her voice light and cheery. “I come nearly every morning to eat with you, Father, just as we do at home. What has happened?”

Lord Cutler took a large drink of his wine bottle. “I will not discuss politics with a woman, Isabelle, but the idiocy of these men is unfathomable! The twenty-five soldiers we took from Fort Augustus took themselves off tae the nearest tavern and drank the night away, wenching and gambling. Apparently, a brawl broke out with the other occupants, and five of the idiots are now dead, and the rest of them bear one injury or another, including a head heavy with too much drink.” He slammed a fist on the table. “The bloody idiots! We cannot go towards The Scots now. These Highlanders are wily bastards. They will use our injuries to their own advantage. I could not bear the shame of loss. I will crush them with all the power I have.”

He slammed a fist into the table. So this is perhaps where I get my own temper, Isabelle thought wryly. She sat down across from him and said, “You are wise, Father. You do not wish to fight them if you are not prepared. They know these hills and forests much better than we do. Wait to fight. Deal with the Scotsmen at the neighboring town first, and then we can continue on our journey.”

Lord Cutler watched his daughter warily for a moment. His eyes were narrowed. Isabelle tried to smile back at him. She knew just what he wanted to hear, but now with his odd expression, she wondered if she had gone a bit too far. Before, she would have complained earnestly and frequently.

“And why do you agree with me, Isabelle? I know you do not wish me to fight with The Scots. You have tried to convince me many times. And yet you send me into an angry fight with other neighboring Scotsmen over the murder of a few English soldiers? You know what I will do to them, do you not?”

Isabelle swallowed slowly, but she tried not to give anything away to her father. He was right to be suspicious, and he was also right about what she did. She did not even think twice about sending him on this new murderous mission. Those Scotsmen know not what comes for them! How could she have advised her father so flippantly to go and attack a different area?

Her heart told her why. It was because it wouldn’t be Eamon. It wouldn’t be the Highlander who made her heart patter faster every time she met with him. She realized she would try anything to steer her father away from him. It was silly, but it didn’t make it less true.

“I do know, Father.” She was about to continue, but her father laughed.

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