6. A Family Bound by Danger

6

A FAMILY BOUND BY DANGER

A ila ran the bristle brush over Knight’s mane again and again. With each stroke, her nerves grew more frayed. It had been so long since she had been without Sorcha and Taryn’s company—years, in fact. Without them, it felt as if a part of her was missing. Knowing that Taryn was already in danger and Sorcha was riding towards it only made that gaping hole bigger.

“Och, Knight,” she murmured. “What are we to do?”

He pawed at the ground as if he too were anxious to chase after their friends. Without Taryn’s gentle words and calming touch, and Sorcha running patrols to ensure the castle’s safety, the children had grown more nervous as well. Of course, Mary had taken up the comforting of the children, working alongside Edith to keep them all entertained, too busy to notice much.

But in those rare moments that always managed to sneak up on everybody, Aila always rushed to their side. There was little she could do besides hold them all in her lap, squeeze tight, and offer comforting promises that she wasn’t sure she could keep. On more than one occasion, she had cried right alongside them, overcome with her grief.

Tonight had been such a night. The three had wanted Taryn to read them a bedtime story. Christopher and Arran were old enough to understand that Taryn wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon, but little Elsie was too young. She couldn’t understand why Taryn wouldn’t come to her. No one’s explanation would do.

Eventually, Aila resigned herself to holding Elsie while her body was wracked with sobs, letting her cry herself to sleep. It had taken what felt like hours. Aila’s arms had grown stiff and sore from rocking Elsie for so long. And now that the girl was sleeping alongside Christopher and Arran, Aila found that she envied the girl for her deep sleep.

“I suppose we must be grateful for the fact that Arran has all but recovered,” she told Knight, her hand continuing to brush out of muscle memory. “I dinnae ken what we would do if Mary had nae been here, if she were nae still here offering her services to the entire clan.”

It was a blessing to know the clan had a healer once more, and a skilled one at that. Arran’s growing strength took so much weight from Lachlan’s shoulders that Aila was starting to see a different side of her husband altogether.

Knight pawed at the ground again, snickering.

“I dinnae like staying put any more than ye do, but it is something we must get used to. This is our home now. We have so many more people to consider than what we want. Lachlan does nae think it wise to rush after Taryn, lest we leave the clan undefended. We must think of the children.”

As she had done for Elsie, Christopher, and Arran, Aila ran a soothing hand through her horses’ hair. Satisfied that the knots had been brushed out, she worked her fingers quickly, braiding it all off and out of the way. It would be one less thing for her to worry about in the coming days.

“How about some fresh hay? Would that make ye feel better, lad?” she offered, moving to the half-eaten hay bale and pitchfork.

“Let me help ye with that.” Her husband’s voice put an end to her solitary soliloquy.

Lachlan reached around her back and plucked the pronged fork from her hands deftly. She moved out of his way, content to watch as he lifted a generous heaping of the straw over Knight’s gate and into his stall.

“There ye are, lad,” Lachlan spoke, his words warm and deep.

Aila studied her husband, noting the way he was reluctant to meet her gaze. Instead, he kept his eyes on Knight, scratching his nose and then up to his ears. Lachlan was restless and worried; they both were.

“What is it?” she asked.

“What do ye mean?” he retorted, his words careful to be light.

“I mean,” she told him, stepping closer so she could wrap her arms around his middle. “That ye would nae have come out here and disturbed my time with Knight unless ye had something to tell me. Something ye did nae wish the others to hear.”

He paused his attentions to Knight, much to the horse’s annoyance, and looked over at her, his eyes telling her that she was right.

“What makes ye say that?”

“Ye have never interrupted me here before. That, and the look in yer eye. Just spit it out, Lachlan. Whatever it is, we will be better off facing it together.”

He sighed and let his hands drop. Knight huffed before tucking his head to the fresh hay. Distraction free, Lachlan twisted in her embrace and wrapped his hands around her shoulders, tucking the top of her head under his chin.

“I fear ye will nae like what I have to tell ye,” he warned.

“I assumed it was nae good news.”

“Ye must listen to everything I say and nae storm out of here, aye?”

His demand gave her pause. He had never asked anything like this of her before. Ultimately, her curiosity won out.

“Aye. I will nae leave. Now tell me, what is it?”

Lachlan pulled away but kept his hands on her shoulders, keeping her at arm’s length so he could look at her while he spoke.

“The last of the men I sent out to inquire about mercenaries and bounty hunters has just returned. They all said the same thing; none of the villages have seen any for weeks. Nay one has passed through or made themselves kent.”

Were it not for his hands on her, Aila might have stumbled backwards.

“What does this mean?” she asked meekly, already knowing the answer.

“It means that Taryn was likely taken by some of the English guards. Soldiers who were left behind after their attack. Men that have likely waited in the woods for the opportune moment to strike until they found it.”

Aila felt her breath hitch in her chest more with every word Lachlan spoke. She knew he was likely right, and that terrified her more than anything. As he had predicted, she itched to jump on Knight’s back and go after Taryn and Sorcha. After all, she and Sorcha made a great team. But as promised, and to her great dismay, she stayed put.

“We must search the woods for any more soldiers,” she said in a harsh whisper.

“I will give the order at first light,” Lachlan agreed.

Aila sucked in a breath, reminding herself that she trusted Sorcha. Sorcha had saved Aila’s life on more than one occasion; she was a capable warrior who would do whatever it took to see Taryn brought back safely. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to appease the growing need to chase after them that had been building in Aila since Taryn was first discovered missing.

“Sorcha is our best bet to get Taryn out of this,” Lachlan said, nearly reading Aila’s thoughts. “She is doing all that can be done on that end. We must focus on the task at hand.”

“Which is?”

“Allies. It will take a veritable army to stand against the Baron, and I fear that is what it will take to end this madness. We must be ready with men standing by, ready to attack once Taryn is safe.”

Aila let Lachlan’s words sink in, slowly but surely. She knew he was right. She could feel it in her bones that she needed to follow him on this. That did little to ease the ache in her chest, but it was something else for her to focus on.

She nodded once, twice, then shut her eyes against the torrent of tears that threatened to fall. Lachlan pulled her back into him at once, holding her to his chest. She melted into his touch, letting his smell of pine and fresh snow calm her frayed nerves.

“In the morning, we will gather the clan and tell them of our plan,” Lachlan said as he rubbed small circles on her back. “We will ask for their help.”

“Taryn is an outsider,” Aila argued. “The clan will nae be anxious to leave their new homes for her.”

Lachlan squeezed her a little bit more. The pressure felt good; it made her feel as though he would carry this weight for her, if she wanted to set it down even for a little while.

“She is nae more an outsider than ye are. She helped us get our castle back. She kept Arran alive when he was ill. She has shown her dedication to our people. They will show her the same.”

Chills ran down Aila’s spine at the word our. These past six months had only been the beginning of her experience and duties as a Lady. Now that she was one in full, the responsibility sat even more firmly on her shoulders. But it was more than that. Aila loved that this was something she and Lachlan shared.

“Come on,” Lachlan urged, tucking her into his side and walking her to the other side of the stables. “It is late, and I suspect we will need all the rest we can get in the coming days.”

Just as he promised, the next morning at breakfast, Lachlan made an announcement to everyone in the Great Hall, requesting the presence of the council and elders. Seeing as they were still in the process of rebuilding the clan, that included nearly everyone already there, save for the children and some newer members. It was an intimidating lot to face as Aila stood by her husband’s side half an hour later at the head of the war table.

This was a room she had hoped she had seen the last of when they had finished cleaning it months ago. The long oak table that spanned from one end of the room to the other had been broken during the raids, but Lachlan had worked hard with some other men to replace it. Aila had scrubbed her hands raw trying to get the stone walls clean and free of cobwebs. The other women had swept and mopped the floors or cleaned the row of windows that provided the room with light. Curtains made from the dark blue Kincaid tartan hung on either side of the windows, framing them perfectly.

It was a beautiful room when all was said and done. A fresh rug rolled across the floor, the table gleaming from a fresh coat of polish, each of the sixteen chairs matching. Lachlan had even managed to find some of his father’s old maps and papers and spread them out across the table-top in a neat fashion. It was a beautiful room wasted on discussions of such hideous things.

“What are we doin’ in here?”

“Aye, I thought we already defeated the English.”

“We dinnae have time to get involved in another war. We just finished rebuilding the houses. There is still so much to do.”

The arguments came before Lachlan had even officially begun the meeting. Aila’s worst fears were starting to ring true. Several people here knew that Taryn was gone, but no one knew the danger she was in. Her story, her secrets, had been carefully guarded. Aila was starting to question the wisdom of that decision.

Lifting his right hand, Lachlan silenced the naysayers. With his left, he held Aila’s hand under the table. She let him anchor her, let his constant presence be a comfort to her.

“As some of ye ken,” he started, “Taryn has gone missing.”

“What does that have to do wit’ us?”

Lachlan shot a withering glare down the table, silencing the young Eowin. He was young and desperate to prove that he wasn’t, so Lachlan was more tolerable of his antics, but this was not an occasion where disobedience would be accepted.

“Taryn is a member of this clan. She sacrificed much to see us all here, enjoying our freedoms within our own homes. I will nae hear any of ye say otherwise.”

Eowin looked down in embarrassment. Aila nearly felt bad for him, but her worry for Taryn outweighed it.

“What ye dinnae ken about our Taryn is that she is wanted by the English. I will nae go into the details, as that is her story to tell, but I will say that it is as unfair for her as it was for me. Even more so, if I am honest. It is the same Baron who goes after her. We have good reason to think that she is being taken to his estate just beneath the border.”

“Are ye going to go after her?” Edith asked gently.

“Nay.” He sighed heavily. “We will nae be able to catch up in time, and the last thing I want to do is ride up to that wicked man’s property without any aid.”

“We need allies,” Aila said plainly. “We need other men who will help us fight Baron Dudley.”

“What makes ye think it will come to that?”

This question came from Mary, but was just as unassuming as Edith’s.

“Baron Dudley has chased after me for years, destroyed our village, and saw me get thrown into prison for what I did. He has already spent years hunting down Taryn. He will nae let her go a second time without a fight,” Lachlan answered.

“So we fight.”

Aila looked down the table at Eowin with relief and gratitude. His simple declaration shifted the atmosphere of the room in an instant and relieved some of the tension behind her shoulders. Lachlan nodded appreciatively.

“Aye. If it comes to that, we will fight. But first, we need allies. I believe our best bet is to journey first to the south.”

“What of yer father’s allies? He had many. I am sure they would all be just as?—”

“I have thought of them,” Lachlan interrupted Edith with a hasty smile to cover his misdeed. “But I fear the clans in the most imminent danger are those that stand between us and the Baron.”

He rose and moved to the maps hanging from the wall like they used to, showing everyone with his finger just who he was talking about.

“We will start here, with the McKenzies. It has been a long while since I have been able to catch up on the happenings in our country. They could already be experiencing invasions that I am unaware of. If that is the case, they will nae doubt appreciate our help.”

“And if they are nae?” Aila questioned, trying to follow his line of thought.

“Then they will be… soon.”

He looked up at her from the other end of the table, where he still stood leaning over the map. His eyes were a bright, glowing green that whispered to her of the dangers to come and his vow to protect her.

“Who will ye send to talk with them?” Eowin asked, puffing his chest, clearly vying for the job.

“I will go.”

Aila blanched at Lachlan’s answer.

“But ye are still a wanted man. Ye cannae leave this area without risking being turned in. And what of the castle? Who will protect it should Baron Dudley and his English guards return for another fight?”

Her worries poured out of her before she had the chance to stop them. From the shocked looks on everyone else’s faces, she knew she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“It is my story that will convince the others to join us,” he spoke low and unhurried, his brogue getting rougher. “Nay one else can tell it the way I do. Nay one else can make the others see just what this Sassenach devil is capable of. It is nae something I can put in a letter or ask a messenger to convey. They must see the truth of it in my eyes.”

Lachlan had a point. They all knew he did. It was his persuasive storytelling that had convinced Aila, Sorcha, and Taryn when they had first met. It was his words that had gotten Mary to journey to Kincaid Castle to heal Arran. And it was his demands to speak to Laird Fraser that had garnered his freedom from a second prison. Aila nodded her agreement. It was all Lachlan needed to continue with his plans.

“Aila and I will leave after the midday meal. We will travel alone. It will be easier for us to go unnoticed that way. It is far too dangerous for us to bring a guard, even if we had one to spare. In doing so, we entrust this clan and its lands to all of yer capable hands. My hope is that the other Lairds will hear our tale and take it as a warning for what might happen to their people if we dinnae stand up against Baron Dudley.”

“Aye, Laird,” Edith agreed. “They will listen to ye. Ye have always been able to talk people into doing what ye want.”

With everyone on the same page, the chairs around the table emptied one by one. Each man stopped to shake Lachlan’s hand as they left, while the women gave warm embraces to Aila. She was close to tears by the time she and Lachlan were the only ones remaining.

Lachlan saw her drawn face and crossed the room in three long strides. He held out his arms, and she went to him quickly, letting her guard drop.

“It will be all right, love,” he whispered. “I will keep ye safe.”

“And what if something should happen to ye? Who will keep ye safe?”

He smiled against her hair and held her tighter.

“I think ye have already proven yerself more than capable of that task.”

“I will help ye, too, Aila.”

Aila picked her head up just in time to see Arran come out from behind one of the heavy curtains. How they had missed his boots sticking out from under the fabric, she didn’t know. Lachlan shifted her until she was tucked into his side and they were both facing Arran.

“How long have ye been there, lad?” he asked the boy sternly.

“Long enough to ken that I am going with ye.”

Arran crossed his arms over his chest, his face the mirror image of Lachlan’s stubbornness. It was everything she could do to stop from laughing.

“Listen to me, lad,” Lachlan reprimanded. “This is a room ye are never to sneak into, never to eavesdrop on. The things discussed in this room are nae for a young lad’s ears. Do ye understand me?”

Arran nodded once, bristling with anger.

“If I catch ye again, ye will be in serious trouble.”

Aila had never seen Lachlan be so firm with Arran, though she understood his words were warranted. As soon as Arran nodded his understanding, Lachlan’s arms fell to his side, his parental frustration dissipated.

“Arran—”

“I am well enough to travel! Mary said so,” Arran argued before Lachlan could stop him.

Aila unwrapped herself from Lachlan and crouched to Arran’s level.

“Did ye hear the entire meeting, Arran?” she asked softly.

He nodded with a guilty expression. His eyes darted to the floor and stayed there. She looked up briefly at Lachlan to see a mix of worry and frustration on his face.

“Then ye understand just how dangerous this journey will be. There are still many bad men who want yer Uncle Loch, and we must do everything we can to keep them from getting him. We cannae do that if we have to worry about ye too.”

“Dinnae fash, Aila. I can ride just as well as he can. Ye will nae have to slow down for me.”

She felt Lachlan sigh behind her. He rubbed a tired hand over his eyes, silently chiding Saun for teaching his son how to ride so well.

“I want to go with ye,” Arran pleaded. “Please, dinnae leave me behind again.”

Aila couldn’t ignore the desperation in Arran’s eyes. He had been left alone with his family, left to fend for himself, then left by Lachlan to recover with only the aid of strangers. She had felt the same longing for a family, to be a part of a unit. That is what had drawn her to Sorcha and Taryn, that feeling was what pushed her to bring Taryn home safely. She wasn’t going to deny the boy the same thing she was trying to protect.

“I suppose the guards and bounty hunters will be looking for a lone man. They will nae expect to see a man with his wife and son,” Aila said softly, looking up at Lachlan. “It will be as good of a ruse as any we could come up with.”

Lachlan watched her only for a moment before he knelt in front of Arran, giving them both a small smile.

“I will nae be pretending to be traveling with my family. We really are one.”

Arran’s smile was infectious, as was his joy at having won over Lachlan.

“Go pack yer things. We leave soon.”