Page 59 of A Constant Blaze

Chapter Fifteen

Although they askedwhenever they passed through settlements or met any travelers, no one had seen the MacHeths. Most had heard they were in the region, though, and were waiting and praying with dread to be spared.

Theirs was not a huge party liable to draw much attention on the road. Nevertheless, Malcolm used Halla’s house guards as scouts, whether they traveled on the road or in the cover of the woods. He occasionally rode off alone in one direction or another and returned minutes later. Once, he even dismounted and passed the reins to Halla. She took them without a word, quite naturally, and watched him sprint through the trees.

“Where is he going?” Muiredach asked in tones that implied his lord need not go so far merely to relieve himself or any other trivial purpose.

“Scouting,” Halla said. “We only have the two men, and it isn’t always enough.”

“Is such excessive care necessary?”

“He thinks so. It was how we survived several invasions after the Battle of Stracathro, and how we eluded capture, fighting only when we had a chance of winning.”

“You hid with him?” Mairead asked in surprise.

Halla smiled. Those had been strange, anxious, and yet wonderful days, full of as much euphoria as grief.

“Why do you think the men of Ross will do anything for her?” Astrid interjected. “Because she calls herself their lady, because she married their earl stripped by the king of his title? She marched with them, suffered with them, bound their wounds, and celebrated with them.”

Even the memory was gladness and pain. Halla looked directly at Astrid. “So did you.”

Astrid smiled. “Aye.”

A few minutes later, Malcolm again emerged through the trees, took the reins from Halla, and mounted.

“No signs of raiding parties or soldiers, but there’s a family just left the road as if they mean to camp. We should talk to them.”

Although he’d spoken to the group in general, as indeed he’d addressed all his speech since they’d left the priory, Halla nodded. The huge, unresolved issues between them would wait until this greater danger was over. Which suited Halla well enough. She could find no words for what lay now between herself and Malcolm, but there was an odd contentment in riding by his side, searching out the threat together. Even if it drove them apart in the end.

In a small clearing, they discovered a man, woman, and two children around a fire. They all leapt up in alarm when the horses walked out of the trees. The man seized a knife from his belt and pushed in front of his family.

“There’s no need for that,” Malcolm said mildly. “We haven’t come to rob you.” He cast a critical eye over them. “Looks as if that’s happened to you already.”

“MacHeths,” the man said with loathing, lowering his knife as he took in the presence of noblewomen with the soldiers.

“Where?” Malcolm asked.

“We come from a village inland from Montrose. We tried to fight, but they took everything, drove off our animals, killed nearly all of us. I took my family and ran when they set fire to what was left.”

“The MacHeths did that?” Halla asked curiously. “I heard they had returned to Ross.”

“So did we,” the man said bitterly. “Either they hadn’t, or they came back.”

“How do you know they were MacHeths?” Malcolm asked.

The whole family stared at him as though he was stupid. Every act of brigandage could be blamed on the MacHeths. It was a tendency Halla had encouraged, on Adam’s advice. The MacHeths were feared.

“They told us,” the man said bitterly. “They wereproudof it? Can you imagine being proud of being aMacHeth?”

Halla shook her head. “Inconceivable,” she agreed under Malcolm’s sardonic gaze. “And outrageous. Such men will be punished in the next world, though personally, I would like to begin it in this one. Who was the leader of these men, do you know?”

“He didn’t introduce himself,” the man muttered.

“One of the sons of Malcolm MacHeth, no doubt.”

The woman spoke up. “No, lady, he was older than that. The sons are young, aren’t they? This one was older, greying.” She shivered, clutching her children to her.

“Malcolm MacHeth himself, then?” Malcolm suggested. “I believe the king released him.”

---