Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,136
behind,” Marisse said, trying to reassure her.
In her heart of hearts, Aeschene knew something was horribly wrong.
Long, painful moments passed by, as Aeschene and Marisse waited for more information.
Suddenly, the crowd grew loud and people began to move into action. Someone called for horses and men.
“What is happening?” Aeschene asked Marisse as she gripped her hand tightly.
“I dunnae ken,” she replied.
Her tone alone said much; filled with worry and trepidation.
Lachlan raced up to them moments later. “Into the keep,” he said as he took Aeschene by her elbow. She refused to be moved.
“Nay,” she murmured. “Tell me what is wrong.”
Lachlan didn’t mince his words. “The lads were set upon by a dozen men. Richard arrived in time to help aid Daniel’s escape. The poor lad has run all the way here. Now, please, Aeschene, go inside.”
“What of Richard? Rory and Raibeart? What of Colyne?” she asked, as her heart pounded ferociously against her breast.
“He is uncertain,” Lachlan said as he tried once again to get her to move.
Daniel may have been uncertain about what had happened to the others, but Aeschene wasn’t. “Had Richard been able to fight off the attackers, he would have picked Daniel up along the way on his return back to the keep,” she said, willing her nerves to settle.
“Come, Aeschene, let us go inside,” Marisse said.
Aeschene kept her feet firmly planted. “Marisse, what is the one thing neither of us are?”
She was quiet for a long moment. “We are nae cowards.”
“Damned right we’re nae cowards,” Aeschene replied, gathering up her courage.
“Lachlan, I am quite certain ye ken what ye are to do now, so I will nae even pretend to order ye about.”
“Thank ye, Aeschene,” he replied, trying yet again to move her toward the stairs.
“Bring everyone within the walls,” she said, ignoring his attempts to move her. “Bring in all the cattle, the sheep as well.”
Lachlan was surprised by two things. One, that his laird’s wife hadn’t fallen to her knees in a heap of sobs and anguish. And two, the stoicism she was displaying was remarkable.
“And I do mean everyone,” she told him. “We will leave no one to fend for themselves. Marisse, take me inside, then fetch Keevah. We have much work to do.”
“Ye wish us to prepare as if we were under attack?” Marisse asked.
“As if we were?” Aeschene asked as she grabbed a bit of skirt and headed toward the keep. “Nay, Marisse. We are under attack.”
Lachlan took a small contingency out in search of his laird and the others. Anger burned as hot as a blacksmith’s forge inside his gut.
They rode as fast as their mounts would take them, keeping a keen eye out for invaders, or survivors. Over hills, across streams, and through the glens. All the while, the sense of doom increased. When it grew too dark to see, they lit torches to light their way. Lachlan prayed Daniel had given them the correct location of the attack, for they could ill afford to wander the hills all the night long.
In less than two hour’s time, they approached the area Daniel had described to them; the forest beyond what was called Mairie’s Glen, named after the daughter of a laird from generations past. A peaceful and serene place during the day light hours. However, considering the circumstances under which they were here, it lost its sense of beauty and serenity.
Lachlan held up a fist, bringing the search party to a halt. The sliver of a moon barely helped them to see. Quietly, he gave the order for three of his men to dismount and fan out. Once the men had disappeared into the dense forest, he and the others proceeded forward cautiously and slowly. His instincts were on full alert, paying careful attention to every whisper of the breeze, the sounds of the night creatures, guarded and alert for any sign of danger.
Soon, he heard the familiar whistle meant to sound like an owl, coming from ahead and to his left. Another whistle soon followed. His men had found something.
Carefully, he dismounted, tied his horse off on a tree and went in the direction of the calls. Another of his men was right ahead of him, a torch in one hand. The flames flickered, dimming for a moment in the breeze before coming back to life again.
They trudged forward over uneven ground covered in moss and thick in bracken. The man ahead pulled back a low hanging branch and held it so that Lachlan could pass through.