10. Whispers of War and Heroes

10

WHISPERS OF WAR AND HEROES

W hen their journey had first started, the trio had all been so enamored with the idea of traveling together as a family that the ride passed by quickly enough. They walked the horses for the majority of the trail, not wanting to exhaust the beasts. But by day three, Aila was tired of sitting in the saddle, Arran wouldn’t stop asking questions, and Lachlan was starting to feel the wear of always being on the lookout. A bush rustled behind them, breaking the otherwise silent ride. That was all Arran needed to prompt him to speak.

“How much longer?” Arran asked.

It must have been the dozenth time he had posed that very question. Aila couldn’t fault him for it, her thoughts mirrored his.

“We will ride for almost another hour before we make it to the next inn,” Lachlan answered matter-of-factly.

“Nay, I mean how much longer until we dinnae have to ride at all anymore.”

Lachlan sighed silently and gave Aila a knowing look over the young boy’s head.

“I tried to warn ye that this would nae be an easy journey. Did ye nae believe me?”

Arran shrugged.

“I thought there would be more adventure than this. I thought it would be more exciting.”

Aila and Lachlan couldn’t help but chuckle at the naivety of Arran’s complaints.

“Trust me, Arran,” Aila told him. “The verra last thing we want is more adventure, more danger.”

“Because Uncle Loch might get caught?”

“Aye, but that is nae all that could happen. He could get caught or someone could get hurt or a hundred other things that would stop us from being able to help Taryn and the rest of our clan. We must make this long journey to ensure that they are all safe. Do ye understand?”

He nodded sheepishly. But it wasn’t even a full minute later before he was sighing in his saddle again.

“What is it now?” Lachlan asked patiently.

“All we have seen for days are trees, trees, and more trees.”

Arran slouched a bit as he gestured to the seemingly endless rows of trees. They were almost always coated white, the snow having dashed away any spots of green. The trunks were varying shades of brown, giving the wildlife plenty of hiding places, some of which were moving as they passed. Like Lachlan, Arran had picked up the habit of always scanning those places for any sign of an attacker. From the moment they climbed into their saddles until the moment Lachlan carried the boy to bed at night, Arran was always on alert.

She often had to remind herself and Lachlan that Arran was not a typical child. He was well accustomed to having to survive the harsh Scottish winters, all while keeping a wary eye out for anyone who might want to do him harm. In fact, she surmised that this was likely one of the easiest winters the boy had experienced since his family was killed three years ago.

The thought made her heart ache for such a loss of innocence, but it was the skills he had picked up in that time that had made Arran so valuable to their journey. He gave their story of a traveling family credibility. Yet even with all of his experience, and his insistence that he was merely bored, Aila could see the fear hiding behind his eyes. He understood just how much danger they were in, and the risks involved in taking a journey like this. If he wanted to talk about the trees, she would be more than happy to indulge him.

“That is nae exactly true,” Aila argued against Arran. “We have stopped nearly every night in an inn. We have seen many villages and towns. That is fun and interesting.”

“They are all the same,” Arran told her with a shrug. “A tavern, a general store, maybe a market or something. And then there are just a bunch of houses. They all look just like the Kincaid land, except our land has a big loch to make it even more bonny.”

“Aye, I do believe that our home is the most bonny in all of Scotland,” Lachlan agreed wistfully. “Ye ken, it was often the sight of that loch that kept me sane while I was in prison.”

Arran’s eyes went wide at his uncle’s mention of his time as a captive. Aila already knew what was coming next and shook her head at Lachlan. They were trying to stay hidden. That was why she wore one of Taryn’s dresses and Lachlan had traded out his Kincaid tartan for a pair of nondescript breaches, a simple shirt, and a thick coat. The very last thing they needed was for someone to overhear Lachlan telling stories about their clan or his time in prison or anything else that might give them away.

“Tell me about it, Uncle Loch, will ye? I want to hear all about it.”

Lachlan took in Aila’s wide-eyed expression and thought for a moment before responding to the now excited young boy.

“How about I tell ye a different kind of story? One that I heard often when I was younger.”

“All right,” Arran happily agreed.

“Tell me, what do ye ken of the McKenzies?”

“Ye mean, the clan we are going to meet with?”

“Aye,” Lachlan answered, eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise that Arran had remembered that detail.

“Well, I ken that they live a long ways away from us.”

Lachlan let out a hearty laugh that soon spread to Aila and Arran. She cherished those moments, the fleeting times when they truly felt like a young family with not a care in the world save for where their next meal might come from. She loved getting the small glimpses of Lachlan when he wasn’t so weighed down with his responsibilities as a Laird.

“Aye, that they do. It is about a week’s journey. We have already been riding for three days so it will take us another four to get there. I suspect that is the perfect amount of time.”

“Perfect amount of time for what?” Arran asked, taking the words right out of Aila’s mouth.

“To tell ye all about the clan we are going to meet.”

Lachlan gave Arran a wide grin, but still, Arran wasn’t entirely convinced.

“What makes the McKenzies so special?”

“Well, for starters their Laird is a woman,” Lachlan said with an air of nonchalance Aila knew was pretending.

“A woman for a Laird?” Arran echoed incredulously.

“Aye, and a fierce woman she is. She reminds me a lot of Aila, as a matter of fact.”

“Tell us the story, Uncle Loch. Please. I want to hear.”

Lachlan cleared his throat, rather dramatically, and then launched into the tale.

“It all began long before yer time with a wicked man named Campbell. Legend has it that he was a mad man descended from kings of old. It was this heritage that spurred him on to wanting to have the largest parcel of land in the Highlands. He wanted to rule it all. And so, he made war with the Murrays.”

“Wait a minute,” Arran interrupted, “I thought that this story was about the McKenzies.”

“It is,” Lachlan reassured the boy. “But ye see, the McKenzies and the Murrays were kin. In order to strengthen their allyship, the McKenzie Laird sent his daughter over to be wed to the Murray heir. The young couple had a son, named Seamus. He was a brave lad, with the red hair of the Murrays but the eyes of the McKenzies. A perfect mix of father and mother.”

Aila let Lachlan’s words paint a picture in her mind. She admired his storytelling ability. In just a few short minutes, he had completely occupied Arran’s attention, and her own, all while keeping an eye on the trees. She had to admit, she was just as curious about the McKenzies as Arran was. A woman for a Laird and a mad king trying to ruin it all was plenty to capture her interest.

“However, their time of peace lasted only a short seven years. Under the veil of night, Lady Murray stole away back to her homelands, to be reunited with her father, Laird McKenzie. When dawn broke, Campbell attacked the Murray Castle, overtaking it entirely.”

“How did Laird Murray let that happen? Why did Lady Murray run away? Was she in on the attack? What about Seamus? If they are weak enough to be invaded by another Laird, why are we going to them for help?”

Aila was surprised at Arran’s string of questions, though at this point, she supposed she shouldn’t have been. He was always so clever, so insightful. He asked all the same things she wanted to know.

“Slow down,” Lachlan chuckled. “I will answer all of yer questions, but ye must allow me to tell the story.”

Arran nodded sheepishly, unable to hide his excitement.

“Word about Campbell’s military prowess had gotten around, so when he attacked, Laird Murray gave the order for his men to stand down. He did nae want to see his soldiers killed needlessly when there was no way for them to win the battle. Some people thought him a coward, others thought him a verra wise ruler. What do ye think, lad?”

“Well, I think that if there was truly nay way for him to defeat Campbell, then aye, he should have waited for another day. Is that what happened?”

Lachlan shook his head.

“I wish I could say it was, but nay. The Murray Laird did nothing for nearly two decades, while Campbell made a mess of his clan. The people were starving and forced to pay too much coin. They were being raided and beaten by the guards Campbell had sent to protect them. By then, Seamus was nay longer a young lad but a grown man, and he had grown tired of seeing his father do nothing while their people suffered.”

Aila had nearly forgotten to watch the trees as Lachlan spoke. Small shadows danced across the forest floor, bringing his story to life.

“He angered Campbell, and the tyrant threatened the young heir’s life. The night before Seamus was sentenced to death, he escaped! He rushed to try to make it to McKenzie lands, but before he could get there, bounty hunters found him.”

“Och,” Arran exclaimed in frustration. “Bounty hunters ruin everything.”

“Aye, that they do. But this time, it worked in his favor. What Seamus did nae ken was that an archer was hidden in the trees. She shot down a few arrows and saved him from the bounty hunters, only to tie him up herself.”

“That sounds like something ye would do,” Arran joked with Aila.

She laughed alongside him and agreed.

“Aye, for the right reasons. She sounds like someone I would verra much like to meet.”

“I think we can make that happen,” Lachlan told her with a smirk.

“Really?” Arran asked in surprise.

“Aye. Flora, the archer, was the only one who believed Seamus when he told her that he wanted to dethrone Campbell and do right by his clan. See, she was a part of a secret village where only rebels lived. They were mostly the few surviving soldiers of Laird Murray’s and a few verra determined clans people. Together, she and Seamus convinced the rebels to fight against Campbell.”

“How did they do that?”

“Seamus went back to the castle and pretended to be on Campbell’s side. He lied and said he had been captured. Campbell, the arrogant fool that he was, believed Seamus. Seamus spent a few verra treacherous weeks trying to learn all that he could about Campbell’s plan before he made his escape once again. But on the night he was set to leave, Iona McKenzie appeared.”

Arran scrunched his face in confusion.

“Who is that?”

“Iona is Seamus’ cousin. She is one of his mother’s kin. She came to beg Seamus for his help.”

“But why would Iona need his help? Did Campbell attack the McKenzies too?”

“Nae exactly,” Lachlan drawled out slowly. “Instead of attacking them, he tricked them into giving him whatever he wanted.”

“That does nae sound like a verra good trick to me,” Arran commented thoughtfully.

“It was nae. And that was why Iona ran to her cousin. Together, Seamus and Flora, along with Iona and Finn, fought back against Campbell.”

Arran looked over at Lachlan with narrowed eyes, knowing that he wasn’t getting the full story.

“Who is Finn? How did they fight back?”

Lachlan chuckled again and continued on with his story. Aila listened, almost as enamored with the story as she was with her husband. She loved the way he told these stories, the way he made the heroes sound larger than life. Most of all, she loved the way that he made the day’s travels pass by quickly. She didn’t notice the trees moving in the wind, the twigs snapping as they rode, or the bushes shifting from whatever creature hid beneath them.

They were riding into the next town when Lachlan was just finishing up the grand tale, having answered nearly every question Arran had been able to come up with.

“So Finn, having lost his way, decided to do the right thing and protect the village. Meanwhile, the others fought off Campbell. Seamus and Flora brought him down together. And even though Seamus’ father had been killed by Campbell, he was still able to say goodbye to his mother before she died.”

“But she cannae die! She sacrificed herself to save them. She has to live. That is how all the good stories go.”

Lachlan looked into the sky, taking in the twisting colors of the sunset behind the newest village they had ridden to. His expression was hidden with traces of grief and thoughtfulness. A shadow from the edge of the treeline danced across the road in front of them, briefly covering Lachlan’s face. Aila knew he was thinking about all the men who had sacrificed themselves, so Lachlan could go free. She wondered just how many there had been.

“Ye are forgetting, Arran,” Lachlan said somberly, no longer trying to spin a grand tale to distract the boy. “This is nae a story. This is reality. Seamus and Flora and Iona and Finn are all real people. These things really happened to them. It is easy to get swept up in the heroics of it all, but life does nae always go the way we want it to. Often, it goes horribly, horribly wrong, and we are left to pick up the pieces.”

“I ken, Uncle Loch,” Arran answered, just as serious and sad.

His tone had Lachlan blinking out of his grief induced daze to look at Arran. Lachlan’s blue eyes went wide as he realized what he had just said but more importantly, who he had been talking to. Arran was one of the few children who didn’t need any instruction on just how cruel life could be.

“Och, Arran,” Lachlan said with a small frown. “I am sorry, lad. I was nae thinking. I only meant to help ye understand that this is nae just rumor or legend, but real people’s lives we are talking about.”

He and Aila exchanged glances. She tried to encourage him with her smile, but she knew as well as he did that they were both still very much new parents. Neither of them had ever expected to suddenly be put in charge of caring for a ten-year-old. They were bound to make a couple of mistakes along the way.

“Aye, I remember. I only meant that it is nae fair that he lost both of his parents to Campbell.”

“Nay,” Lachlan agreed emphatically. “It is never fair when life makes someone an orphan. It is a grave injustice that should be righted.”

“And that is why we are going to see them?” Arran asked, having quickly caught onto the fact that they were no longer talking about the Murrays and McKenzies.

“I dinnae ken if Flora and Seamus will be there. Their lands are further north. But we will seek out Iona. She took over the McKenzie land once Campbell and all of his men had been sent on their way.”

“Is she really the Laird?” Aila couldn’t help but ask, her tone full of wonder.

“Aye. She is married now. She and Finn married a few years after everything settled. Though it is said they still fulfill the same roles they had before they were married; she as Laird and he as Captain of the Guard.”

“And ye truly think they will help us? Have they always been allies of the Kincaid Clan?”

Try as she might, Aila couldn’t keep the worry from her voice. She hated for Arran to know just how scared she was that this wasn’t going to work; that all of their days of riding and hoping and praying would be for nothing. But she was unable to shake the fear.

“They have helped us in the past, aye. But that is nae why we turn to them now. It was the story I have spent all day sharing that made me think of them. The McKenzies ken a great deal about standing with those who are in danger, speaking out against a wrong regardless of who they are speaking against. Their clan is still here today because they value working as a united front. It is those principles that make me think they are our best bet. Aye, they are the north, so even if the baron does manage to sink his fingers into our land, it will nae affect them. At least, nae at first. But she will have the foresight to be able to see that Baron Dudley is a lot like Campbell. He will never be satisfied with a little. He must take as much as he can.”

“So ye truly believe they will stand with us?”

“Aye,” Lachlan said, meeting Aila’s eyes with a confident gaze. “I think they will stand with us.”

She let his words soothe her worried soul. With the day drawing to an end, Lachlan suggested they stop for the night at a cozy-looking inn. As soon as they walked inside the creaky door, Aila was grateful they had.

A huge, warm fire burned in the hearth on one side of the room while several empty tables took up the rest of the entrance. Lachlan moved to arrange their rooms while Aila and Arran warmed themselves by the fire. She squeezed his shoulders affectionately and sighed.

“Such a blustery night for a nice young family like yers to be out,” a wrinkled woman commented with a smile.

For a moment, Aila’s heart started to pound. She wondered if they were in any danger of being recognized. But a quick scan of the room told Aila that this was the innkeeper’s wife doing little else but making her welcoming remarks.

“Aye,” Aila answered with a forced smile of her own. “Traveling to see family that we could nae get to for the holidays. Could ye tell me what we can get tonight?”

By the time Lachlan made it over to them, Aila had already ordered dinner to be brought up to their room. He ushered them up the rickety stairs and down a slender hallway while carrying a candle. They spent the next few hours eating and preparing for another full day of riding. It didn’t take long for soft snores to come from Arran’s cot near the fire. Aila leaned back into Lachlan’s chest and let his arms fend the cold off for her.

“I never thought we would make it this far,” she whispered.

“I told ye I would nae let anything bad happen to ye. Ye are nae still worried about bounty hunters, are ye? Dinnae fash, Aila, I?—”

“That is nae what I meant. I mean, I never thought that we would be here. I thought ye would always be running or that a family would never be an option for us. Yet, here we are, a family of three, off on a mission to protect the rest of our home. I never thought I would have a home to protect again.”

Lachlan nuzzled the top of her head as he dragged her back, pulling her even deeper into the bed to him.

“Nor did I, to be sure. But I am verra grateful to have a home worth defending. And a family to keep close. We are verra lucky, Aila. I am verra lucky, I ken that now. I would never do anything that would put that at risk. Ye and Arran mean far too much to me to do anything reckless.”

“I ken that ye would do anything to keep us safe,” Aila hedged.

“Of course. Ye are my family now.”

She nodded and then untangled herself from him before twisting so she could look him in the eye as she spoke. She needed him to know that she meant what she said.

“Taryn and Sorcha are my family too, Lachlan. And I would do anything for them, just as I would for ye or Arran.”

“Aila, I swore to ye on our wedding day that I would protect our family. I kent then that included Taryn and Sorcha as well as Christopher and Elsie. And I intend on keeping my vows. We will get Taryn back. I promise.”

It took a great deal of effort to keep her tears from falling from her eyes, but somehow, Aila managed it. She settled back into Lachlan’s arms and let his promise and his steady breathing lull her to sleep.

The fire crackled, casting shadows on the walls, but Lachlan paid them no heed. His attention was too captivated by the boy sleeping by the fire and the woman in his arms. That his entire world fit in a single room astounded him, but he was no less in love with them. They were his purpose in life, and he knew, though their journey was still just beginning, together they would be able to face anything.