Page 25 of A Fearless Rebel

Keithen stalked from one side of the roof to the other, his gaze on the surrounding land. “Where are the scouts?”

“It will take time to find out what happened,” his father said. But he, too, kept watch toward the north.

It was hours later that a group of Mackenzie warriors appeared. They rode fast until they arrived at the gates.

Along with the laird, Keithen hurried to the courtyard. “I will speak to them,” Keithen said, placing an arm protectively in front of his father. “Ye remain here.”

His father remained silent as the gates were opened and four of the twenty or so entered. One man dismounted and walked toward Keithen and his father, his path blocked by Fraser guards, swords drawn.

After a flat look around, the man met first his father’s then Keithen’s eyes. “We search for a group of men who may have come here for refuge.”

“No one has come here as of late,” his father replied in a strong voice.

The man met his father’s gaze for a long moment as if attempting to sense if he spoke the truth. “They have much to answer for.”

Keithen’s chest tightened. “Is my wife safe?”

The man’s upper lip curled in distaste. “What would it matter to ye?”

In truth, he had no claim when it came to Ava. After all, he’d rejected her and turned his back on the woman. Yet it did matter to him. He didn’t wish anything bad to happen to her.

“If men come seeking refuge, I am not sure I could turn them away without knowing what they are being charged with,” his father told them.

The visitor looked over his shoulder to the other three. Whatever happened, it was quite dire, it seemed. “I can only say that there was an unprovoked occurrence to our clan. We will eventually find them, and they will be punished.”

As dictated by Highland custom, the men were fed and offered rest for a night. They accepted the food but turned down the offer to remain and were soon on their way.

“It is fruitless to try to figure out what happened.” Keithen’s Uncle Hamish and Aunt Matilde, who lived just a few miles away, arrived upon hearing about the Mackenzie warriors coming to their land.

His father sat back, absently rolling a glass of whisky between his hands.

“The scout has returned,” a guard announced from the door and they all reacted by getting to their feet.

The man who entered had been in his father’s service for as long as Keithen could remember. First as a stable lad, and later, much too small in size for battle, as an archer. A fast rider and quite sly, he now served as a scout.

“What news do ye bring, John?” his father asked impatiently.

John’s face lit up. “The Mackenzie is either dead or dying. Apparently, while returning from a visit to his brother with a small escort, he was shot several times with arrows. Whoever it was remained so well hidden that the laird’s guards could not find him. Torn with having to save his life or try to find the attacker, they chose to take him to the keep before dispatching warriors to hunt those responsible.”

“When did this happen?” Keithen asked, feeling relieved that it was not Ava who had been injured in some way. Although, he supposed, she would be saddened at losing her father.

“At dawn, today,” the scout said.

They settled into their chairs, each quietly considering the ramifications of what would happen if Laird Mackenzie died.

“His son, Alastair, is not much better than his father,” Keithen’s uncle said. “Perhaps not as ruthless. I am not sure.”

Broden, who was also in the room, grunted. “I competed against him during the games a year ago. He was actually somewhat pleasant.”

“Taking over as laird could bring out the worst or the best in a man,” Laird Fraser replied. “I wonder what this means for us. I cannot see how it will impact us in any way.”

For a long time, the men sat around the table deep in thought, every so often saying something that occurred to them. The truth of it was, they would eventually find out if the Mackenzie lived or died.

Keithen walked out of his father’s study and out to the courtyard. There was work to be done. The duties of everyday life called.

However, his thoughts kept returning to Ava.

How was his wife faring?