“I cannot deny the truth of your words, Mahon. Your sacrifice is appreciated. My men will hunt their own food and bring supplies.”
“I should be thanking you, McTiernay. Your plan allows me to save my own pride and keep my convictions. When this is done, everyone will know that I am your friend and ally,” Mahon pledged, rising to stand. He extended his arm, and Colin clasped it. Mahon squeezed and let go before offering last words of caution. “Beware of MacCuaig. He is crazed, but he is young and strong. And while no leader, he is gifted with the sword in one-on-one combat. None to my knowledge has ever beaten him.”
Colin downed the last bit of ale in his quaich. “Again I thank you, Mahon. Shall we call for Ross? He will want to determine how and where to handle the invasion of my soldiers.”
“Aye, Ross will handle the particulars for now, and though a good lad, he has much to learn. My previous commander is now in Fife. His time with me was recently completed, and he chose, understandably, to help his ailing uncle, a laird of a small MacDuff clan just north of the River Forth. He will soon be named their chief, and I wish him well. I have not chosen a replacement. My junior commanders have the talent to lead and do well with new recruits, but they lack the maturity needed to hone and lead my battle-experienced men.”
“My commander Drake shall report to you directly then and do your bidding. He will be in charge of relocating and then overseeing my men.”
“If it is not too much to ask, I would like to stage some sport, and if my men’s skills have diminished as I fear, I would ask that they join your training. Your commander of course would treat them no different and conduct the practices as he chose.”
Colin sheathed his sword and prepared to leave. “Drake is your man and will see to what you wish. It is the least I can do for this burden you undertake.”
“These are burdensome times, and we all must do what we can to preserve what is ours.”
“Aye, that we must,” Colin replied, following Mahon to the door. “Let us say good-bye now, for in a moment we must depart as enemies.”
Chapter Nine
Colin clapped his commander farewell on the back and mounted his black. After days with minimal riding, the animal was restless and ready for a hard ride. Colin gestured once more to his men and then left the secret encampment. They were heading home. He was riding north alone. Several hard months lay ahead. Dunlop would be his sole commander while Drake secretly sharpened the battle skills of his men at Lonchlilar.
Colin sensed Drake’s eagerness to be trusted with the assignment, but he also knew the young man was disappointed to be away from the freckled beauty who had so thoroughly captured his attention. Yet if all went to plan, his commander would enjoy her attentions this winter in peace.
Riding along the edge of Crawford territory, Colin confirmed his hunch. MacCuaig’s spies were ill-hid, but numerous. Colin suspected several were camped out at every allied clan, ordered to remain there until activity was seen or MacCuaig was ready to make his move. After two days of combing the Lothian hills, Colin learned what he needed to know and headed south.
The ride to Lochlen from Crawford’s should have taken almost three days. Colin made it in less than two. He reached down and stroked the neck of the big black. He had camped late and rested sparingly. Rarely did he ever push a steed this hard, but never had he been so eager to return home. “Come on, boy. I know it’s been rough, and it’s late, but think how good it will feel to be home.”
He urged his mount forward realizing that, for the first time since he moved to the Borders, he considered Lochlen to be his home. He had mouthed the words numerous times. But only recently did his heart no longer seek the Highlands. It reached to Lochlen. To Makenna. He was going home.
The last fleeting rays of sunlight disappeared behind the hills as night invaded the sky. He was almost there. At this pace, he would be in Makenna’s arms before she fell asleep. Even the prospect of facing a cantankerous, feisty Makenna still mad over his departure could not curb the excitement racing through him. He needed to see her again, hear her news, and feel her in his arms. He would even be happy to continue their quarrel. The feeling of anticipation was unfamiliar; one he had never sensed upon returning to Lochlen after a lengthy trip.
In the past, each mile closer to home increased a phantom weight that pressed down upon his shoulders. The second he would pass through the outer gate, news of events that had transpired while he was away would be delivered. Rarely was it ever good. The guilt of not being there to relieve Deirdre of a burden or be by her side when she fell sick had become so heavy he had dared not ever leave.
In the moonlight, Lochlen stretched in the distance. Colin waited for the pressure, the guilt, the fear of learning what happened while he was away. It never came.
Fighting his desire and need to hold Makenna, Colin altered his course and urged the black toward the loch. First a dive to wash off the dirt of travel; then he would find his wife and delve into her secret treasures she divulged only to him.
Washed and dressed again, Colin decided to use the night to cloak his assessment of the work done on the unfinished town wall during his absence. His jaw clenched as he passed through. Indeed, there had been progress. To the distant eye, the wall was near completion.
Colin quelled his anger and proceeded through the village to the heart of Lochlen. The enemy had tipped his hand. The wait would not be as long as he or Donovan presumed.
As he approached the outer gate, soldiers on watch caught sight of Colin. They waved in acknowledgment, and then signaled the guards to open the gate.
Colin rode to the stables, dismounted, and handed the reins over to the stable master. He turned and headed toward the inner gate. Desiring to see only Makenna, he did not stop when Dunlop rushed to his side.
“Laird! My apologies for not arriving sooner. I just received news that you were within the castle walls and came immediately. It is fortunate I was not in the fields tonight with the men, otherwise it might have been morning before I learned of your arrival,” Dunlop explained, hoping to deflect some of his laird’s frustration from landing on him. Those who knew Colin and had traveled with him on lengthy trips were very familiar with the Highlander’s dark mood that came with his return.
“I’m glad to see you, Dunlop. I assume all is well with Lochlen and its people?” Colin replied jovially, not slowing his gait.
Stunned, Dunlop stammered, “Aye, Laird. All is well.” Trying to keep up with Colin’s fast, long stride as they neared the inner gatehouse, Dunlop asked, “Laird?”
“Aye?”
“Where’s Drake? The others? Have they not returned with you?”
Colin paused and waited for Dunlop to come closer before replying softly, “There is much to discuss and do, and unfortunately it will require significant sacrifice on us all. Don’t speak of Drake or the missing men. I will explain all tomorrow morning.”
Before Dunlop could respond affirmatively, Colin resumed his rapid pace once again, practically sprinting inside the gate. Dunlop gave up his pursuit and grinned at the disappearing figure. “If you had waited but two more seconds, Laird, I would have told you she is no longer in the Black Tower,” he said to the empty night air.