of five and ten into an embittered man with but one goal... revenge on those who had betrayed him.
And yet, Rhys knew, too, that beneath the thick shell his friend had grown to withstand the pain of betrayal was a caring core. Though he feared that soon the canker eating at Kieran’s insides would devour even that sliver of gentleness.
Today was a perfect example. ‘Twas not his actions that had roused Kieran’s ire; ’twas the damnable situation Kieran found himself in. Back in Scotland after eight years’ exile, yet no closer to realizing his goal. Further from it, if the truth be known, for near every coin Kieran had saved over the years to finance his revenge had been spent to bring his little army hither when they’d been hounded out of France.
“Yon pass is well hidden.” Kieran’s overture of peace.
Rhys lifted his visor and smiled in acceptance. “’Twould be an easy place to defend, hell to try and invade.”
Kieran grunted in agreement and as they fell to discussing Edin’s natural defenses, the knot in his gut eased. He didn’t have so many friends that he could afford to lose one. Truth to tell, Rhys was his only friend... by choice. The fewer people a man let close, the fewer were in a position to wound him. His uncle’s deceit had taught him that those closest to a man could hurt him the most. ’Twas a lesson he’d never forget, a betrayal he intended to avenge...once he had Duncan’s coin.
“I didn’t realize the Borders sported such land.” Kieran scanned the sheer rock walls, crowding in so close it seemed the trail had been hewn straight through the mountain. In places it was narrowed by tumbled boulders. “You said you had patrols out, yet I haven’t seen any sign of them,” he called ahead to Ellis.
“Nay?” Ellis uttered a sharp whistle, and a score of men popped up from the nearby rocks. They wore conical helmets and the Scottish leine croich, a thigh-length quilted coat that offered less protection than the heavy metal armor Kieran’s men wore, but rendered them quicker and more agile. Each MacLellan held a six-foot spear over his shoulder, cocked and ready.
Behind him, Kieran heard his men gasp. Rhys gave a cough of something that was probably laughter. Kieran wasn’t amused, but he was impressed. His spine prickled with the possibility there was a spear trained there, too. “How many men have you?” Years of practice kept his voice steady.
“Thirty, Sir Kieran.” Ellis had turned in the saddle, his grin reflecting those of his men.
Their levity further roused Kieran’s ire. This was no game. “And how many men do you have outside the valley...in the woods by the river?” he snarled on a hunch.
Ellis’s smile faded. “None. After the reivers came and burned the pair of crofts along there, Laird Duncan thought it too dangerous to risk posting men in the open.”
“How can you know if the enemy is approaching?”
“We have lookouts in the rocks above the pass.”
“And by the time they scramble down and go for help, the outlaws could be through the pass and overpower your guards. Natural defenses alone won’t stop a determined foe.”
“Of course they won’t,” Ellis sputtered. “We have men patrolling the valley and another score billeted at the nearest croft in case they’re needed.”
“Insufficient. But we will look to improving things as soon as I’ve seen what we’ve got to work with. Martin,” Kieran called over his shoulder. “Take ten men and position yourselves on the riverbank below the entrance to the tunnel. I’ll send someone to relieve you at sundown.” Without looking to see that his orders were carried out, Kieran motioned for Ellis to lead on.
As the little cavalcade got under way, Rhys made another suspicious-sounding noise.
“You have aught to add?” Kieran growled.
“Just that these men are not yers to command.”
“They will be the moment Duncan MacLellan hands over the first half of the payment he’s promised.”
“True. Still, ye Scots are an independent lot, with no more liking for being ordered about than we Welsh.”
You Scots. The reference rankled, as did all mention of his heritage. From the moment he’d left Carmichael Castle, he’d become a man without a home, divorced from it and his ancestors. “If they want my help, they’ll follow my orders.”
“I think—” Rhys’s comment ended in a gasp as the party rounded a bend in the trail and broke free of the rocky pass. Ahead of them lay the valley, a lush plain bounded on all sides by the same steep-sided mountains that guarded the pass. Yet here the sun seemed brighter, the air sweeter, the grass greener. “Edin—’tis aptly named.”
Kieran nodded as his gaze swept over the tranquil scene. The strip of water meandering through the center of the valley reflected the deep blue sky overhead, as the fluffy clouds dotting it mirrored the sheep grazing on the grassy mountain slopes. More sheep than he’d seen in years.
Peaceful. Unspoiled. ’Twas like a balm to Kieran’s battered soul.
“It reminds me a little of the hills around Carmichael Castle,” Rhys murmured.
Kieran’s spirits plunged back to earth with a thud. “I asked you never to speak of that place.”
“Aye, so ye did,” Rhys said hoarsely. “And I’ve honored yer wishes, but I cannot forget the home where we were raised.”
Nor could Kieran. God knows he’d tried his damnedest to forget the castle and the people who’d brought him the greatest joy...and deepest sorrow. The castle that should have been his heritage. Stolen from him. He would regain his lost legacy, though the retaking would be steeped in blood... his uncle’s blood. “Lead on,” he told Ellis.
Fortunately the trail winding down from the mountains was steep. Negotiating it took Kieran’s mind from the past and focused it firmly on the present. And the future. His future, for the short term, was tied to defending this valley and earning the coin that would buy his revenge. When they reached the valley floor, he set himself to the task. “Duncan’s message said he’d been attacked on the way to market in Kindo.”
Ellis grunted. “Aye. They were lying in wait for him.”
“Who knew of his plans to take the lambs to market?”
“Everyone in Edin Valley, I suppose.”
“What? Has he no sense?”
“He’s a right canny man,” Ellis said stoutly. “He wouldn’t have lived to eight and sixty otherwise. Naught like this has happened to the MacLellans before. We’ve always lived in peace.”
“I hear hostilities have increased along the Border since Robert came to Scotland’s throne,” Kieran said. ’Twas the reason he’d gone to Berwick hoping to hire out his sword. “Doubtless these reivers thought to make off with your sheep.”
“Duncan was driving young lambs to trade at market when he was ambushed, but they took nary a one.”
“The bastards were likely more eager to save their own skins than lift yer stock,” Rhys said. “Duncan’s message said they’d twice returned.
