Ashlyn (The Highland Clan Book 5) (7 page)

“What did you do?”

“I advised him to start running, then I chased him down in short order and put my fist in his face.”

Ashlyn stifled her laughter with a hand over her mouth, leaning back into him even more. “Did it work?”

“Aye, he never bothered me again.”

He continued his task without speaking, and it was just as well. Ashlyn suddenly found herself incapable of speech. The more hair he wound, the more sensitive she became. If her mouth opened, the only thing he would hear would be a sweet moan of pleasure. When Magnus finished, he tied a leather thong around the ends of her plaits, pulling them tight, and then leaned forward and whispered into her ear.

“Sweet dreams, lass.”

She did not have to look at him to know how big the grin was on his face.

Chapter Seven

While Ashlyn had thought Magnus’s light snores would prove to be a bother, in fact, they seemed to lull her to sleep. It proved a source of comfort to know he was still there in the back of this deep, dark cave full of noisy male bodies. Ashlyn slept like a deer in the dark.

Jamie awakened them at dawn, and Ashlyn brushed the sleep from her eyes and made her way outside to relieve herself. When she returned, she was surprised to find the guards talking with Uncle Logan. “Greetings, lass. You took a fist in the face, I see.”

Ashlyn reached up to touch her face, amazed to feel the swelling there. “Aye, I’m sorry. I’ll get my things together. My face is of no concern.” She glanced at Magnus in time to catch him assessing her injury, his usual smile replaced with a look of fury he hid a moment later. She pivoted to return to the back of the cave for her belongings but was stopped by her uncle. “Ashlyn, you feel confident they were MacNiven’s men?”

“Aye. There was something about them, not the man who captured me, but one of them was familiar. ‘Twas as if I’d heard his voice before.” She paused as something fell into place in her mind. “In fact, I recall something from when I was face down on his horse. I didn’t remember until just now. There was a trail off the path we followed.”

Uncle Logan’s face lit up. “A trail? And no one else noticed it? Who else was near you?”

“Myself, Jamie, and Braden,” Magnus said. “I did not notice aught.” He glanced at Jamie for his response.

“Nay, I saw naught. Where exactly, Ashlyn?”

“At the beginning. The leaves were spread out unnaturally, the way you showed me. It was like someone had covered something up. Our other lads were gathered by that spot.”

The rest of the warriors exchanged looks before giving their attention to Logan. There was a chorus of nays and naughts—no one remembered seeing signs of a trail.

“I rode back to see if any of you had found a lead,” Logan said. “If you think there was something there, Ashlyn, we’ll go check.”

“If no one else noticed it, it must be naught,” Osgar growled, his color high. “She was face down on a horse. Saints above, if ‘twas real, we would have all noticed it.”

Uncle Logan’s gaze narrowed on Osgar. “You are quick to discount a fellow warrior. Ashlyn, Magnus, and I will go check, and anyone else who wishes to follow along.”

“I’ll follow,” Tormod said, nodding. “She has good sense.”

“Aye,” Coll agreed. “I shall come.”

Art grumbled, “I’ll wait here with Osgar.”

Once they had their things together, everyone except Art and Osgar mounted up and rode back the way they had come. They didn’t go back far before Ashlyn stopped her horse and held her hand up for the rest to stop. She dismounted and searched the area, a grin creeping across her face at the realization that it was just as she remembered. She pointed. “Here, Uncle Logan.” She moved the leaves aside and found signs of horses.

Uncle Logan dismounted and made his way toward her. “Well done.” He continued on foot, then announced, “Probably at least six horses. I’ll lead the way.”

They traveled single file until they came upon a cave. Uncle Logan dismounted, grabbing his sword and moving toward the mouth of the cave. Jamie and Braden followed directly behind him. He pointed to an area off to one side for Ashlyn and Magnus to go, and a place on the other side for the remaining men. Jake had told her it was good practice to have archers hidden and always ready to shoot.

A few moments later, the first group emerged from the cave. Uncle Logan was carrying a plaid. “They’ve gone,” he said. “The fire is still warm. I think they were scared off after losing so many men. I cannot tell for certes if MacNiven was with them, but my hunch is that he was here. He may be moving south, just as we are. We’ll find him. Search outside to see if you find aught before we take our leave.”

As they spread out, an awful sound rent the air. An arrow flew past Ashlyn’s head, missing by a hair, and bounced off the stones behind her. Uncle Logan returned fire faster than Ashlyn could nock an arrow. He shot three arrows before they heard the strangled scream of pain.

Magnus took off into the woods in the direction Uncle Logan had been shooting. They followed him, and Ashlyn stopped dead in her tracks when she came upon him.

Rage emanated from Magnus as he delivered blow after blow into Osgar’s face, ignoring the arrows sticking out of the fool’s belly and the bow and arrow at his feet, ignoring the fact that the man was almost certainly dead. “You shoot at a fellow Grant warrior? Bastard. I’ll kill you with my bare hands if those arrows do not.” It looked like that would not be necessary, but Ashlyn believed him.

Art rode in behind them on his horse. “Hellfire.” He glanced down at Osgar. Uncle Logan and Jamie had pulled Magnus off the dead man. A bellow ripped out of him, but when he finally wrestled away from them, he took a step back, panting, and stood there with his fists clenched at his sides.

“Art, you are part of this?” Jamie asked.

Art’s face turned pale. “Nay. He left, saying he had to relieve himself, but when he didn’t return, I decided to see where he had gone. I knew he was upset about having a lass on our team, but I never thought he would go this far.”

Magnus, still panting, whispered, “Ash, you are hale?”

Jamie turned to her, a stunned expression on his face. “Sorry, lass. We should have seen this coming.”

“Nay,” Uncle Logan barked. “How were you to predict that he would ambush his own clan? He turned traitor, not just on the lass, but on all of us. ‘Tis good we discovered him before he could see his plan through.” He walked up to Osgar’s body and spat on him. “The buzzards for you.” He mounted his horse and left, the rest followed—all but Magnus and Ashlyn.

Ashlyn glanced up at the giant warrior, her eyes misting. “Twice. ‘Tis twice you’ve had to protect me on this journey. I must thank my uncle Alex.” She could not speak any more or she would lose control of her emotions. Her excitement for the journey had blinded her to the dangers. She’d had no idea she would be the target of two different people, especially so early on. Mayhap she’d made a big mistake. She’d hoped to be an asset, not a detriment.

Magnus wrapped his hands around her waist and set her up on her horse. “Remember, ‘tis not your fault. You were the only one to see the trail MacNiven’s men tried to cover. I know ‘twill be difficult, but you must put this behind you. We need you, Ashlyn.”

Ashlyn nodded and tugged on the reins, guiding her horse forward.

When they finally made it back to the cave, Jamie said, “Ready yourself, Ashlyn. “We leave in ten minutes.”

Uncle Logan mounted and said, “I’ll see you in Edinburgh. I wish to scout on my own for a bit.”

Ashlyn stared after he beloved uncle. How she wished she could be as strong as he was. She forced herself to finish her task and focus on what was in front of her.

None of them discussed the incident further, but it was clear to Ashlyn that Jamie had said something to the other warriors before she and Magnus had arrived. This was a matter of honor. She’d often heard her uncle Alex say that lads who battled together must trust one another.

This was no different.

***

Days later, they arrived in Edinburgh. Magnus had to admit the royal burgh set his stomach to churning, since he’d never been in such a place before. He’d spent all his days at Clan Grant or fighting for Clan Grant. True, they’d had minstrels and fairs and weddings at their festivals at Clan Grant, but this was so grand. It made him feel small in comparison. Of course, it was not only the city that unsettled him—he had to admit that his feelings toward Ashlyn were growing even stronger. After all the times he’d sworn he’d never fall for another, he did not like the way his heart yearned for her. The way she’d leaned in to him as he plaited her hair had made him want her—a frightening sensation for a man who’d sworn to shut himself off.

The loss of Rhona and his son had been almost unbearable. He’d felt abandoned, and though it shamed him to think about it, he’d even felt angry with his wife for deserting him. Aye, he knew it was not her fault, but he had felt so alone and desperate. Now he was used to being alone. He had his two dogs, his duties to his clanmates, and that was it. It had satisfied him enough a moon ago, why risk falling in love when he knew it could end in torture?

Nay, he was better off staying alone. He stopped his horse about the same time Tormod stopped his.

Tormod looked up at the royal castle atop the hill. “It looks as though it touches the heavens, does it not?” He turned to Magnus, a smile erupting on his face. “I’ve not seen it before. Have you?”

Magnus shook his head. “I’ve heard talk of it, but ‘tis my first journey to Edinburgh. What a sight and what a castle. Though Grant Castle is almost the same size.”

Jamie rode up to him from behind. “But the scrolls and ornate work are much different. You’ll see when we arrive in their courtyard.”

Magnus couldn’t believe all the people in the burgh. Everywhere he looked there were people, and the streets were filled with vendors and food booths. Buildings lined both sides. They took a different road to the castle gates. Magnus glanced over at Ashlyn to see how she fared, and he followed her gaze to the top of the towers.

“What are you thinking, Ash?”

She blushed, something he did not see often from her. “I was wondering if there were any stories about the towers. ‘Tis quite a beautiful castle, is it not?”

The guards opened the iron gate to allow them passage into the castle. They slowed their horses as they gazed at the wonder around them. Aye, Castle Grant was beautiful, but this was beyond belief.

Magnus whispered to Ashlyn, “Do you see below? ‘Tis almost as if we are in the clouds. We are above the trees and the clouds look to be within our reach.”

Ashlyn nodded, staring at the landscape of the burgh below them. “Look. The toths are all in nice rows below. You can see each merchant’s booth and their home behind them. Even the banners and flags appear more majestic from here. ‘Tis a lovely view.”

There were only seven of them. Jamie had decided not to replace Osgar at such a late hour. He’d informed the extra guards of all that had transpired, giving them strict instructions to return to Grant land and report the news to his sire and brother. Due to the risk of heavy snow, he’d ordered the extra guards not to rejoin them—the risk of waiting was too steep—so their small group continued ahead into the mountains.

While they’d been warned about the possibility that snow would prevent their return, Magnus hoped they would get home. His dogs would be undone if he did not return before winter set in. He wondered how Ashlyn felt.

When they reached the royal castle, stable lads rushed forward to assist them, moving to Ashlyn’s side, but Magnus sent them off to help the others. “I’ve got her, lads. Tend to the horses, take good care of them, they’ve had a long journey.”

He caught Ashlyn by the waist, and he felt but did not hear her quick intake of breath. Was he actually getting through to her? He chided himself for his wishful thinking. His hands were probably cold from the dropping temperature and the winds, though he’d kept them covered for the most part. At least she was unlikely to notice his pleased grin, both because he was usually smiling and because her attention kept jumping to the others in the courtyard. Full of people bustling around, the castle attracted many in their finery. He wondered what roles many of them filled, but did not dare ask. Instead, he glanced out toward the horizon, taking a moment to enjoy the Scottish landscape in the burgh with its hills, valleys, pine trees, and ornate stone buildings.

As he slid Ashlyn down close to his body, he said, “Does this view make you wish to be snowed in here? Are you hoping to stay here until spring?”

“Nay!” she retorted. “I do not wish to spend my winter here. You do not think ‘tis a true possibility, do you? I wish to go home within a fortnight.” There was a thread of uncertainty, almost of fear, in her voice and gaze. Nay, she did not want to be away from home for the winter any more than he did.

“Lass,” he said gently, “I know little about the weather here in Edinburgh, so I cannot advise you. But I also hope to return to the clan before the storms hit. Only time will inform us of the truth.”

“Lads. Over here!” The voice was Logan Ramsay’s. He stood in the courtyard, chatting with some of the king’s guards. He had clearly arrived well ahead of them, and Magnus would guess he had not discovered any more about MacNiven than they had.

Jamie and Braden rushed up to Logan, and Ashlyn and Magnus followed with the others. As he crossed the grounds, Magnus took note of the number of castle guards posted around the periphery of the yard. There would be no attacking this castle. Set on the hill as it was, every traveler would be seen in advance. Whoever had designed it had done so brilliantly.

Logan ushered them inside the heavy castle doors and led the way to a chamber at the end of a long passageway. Magnus was transfixed by the swords and tapestries lining the walls, some of the weapons embedded with gemstones, and others quite old and dull. After they passed the great hall, an enormous space filled with people, Jamie turned to address them. “Uncle Logan prefers privacy for our meetings. The king usually accommodates him.”

As soon as they entered the private chamber, Logan’s wife Gwyneth rose from the table to greet them. This chamber was smaller than the great hall they had passed, but about the same size as the Grant hall. A large table sat in the center, and there were hearths along the outside wall. The chairs all had soft cushions, a luxury they did not possess at Clan Grant. Their hall held many trestle tables and benches to accommodate as many as possible. This chamber had clearly been designed for someone the king believed deserving of the best treatment. He glanced at Ashlyn, and the look on her face told him she was as humbled as he was to be in a castle of such riches. The table was set with silver goblets and fine needlepoint linen cloths.