MacDougall 01 - Laiden's Daughter Read Free Page B

“Remember! Stay on this road until the sun breaks at your back!   Then head into the forests and keep going north and west.   You’ll find your people there, Aishlinn!” he gave her no chance to respond before he slapped the mare’s rump hard with the palm of his hand.
    Aishlinn did not have time to ask Baltair what he meant by her people for the mare had taken off the moment his hand came down upon it.   She was nearly tossed again from the saddle and clung on to it for dear life.   She prayed that Baltair was right sending her to Scotland.   
    A sudden surge of hope washed over her as she flew down the road and thought of Scotland.   Her mother had died long ago when Aishlinn was but a bairn and there was very little she knew of her life.   But she did know that her mother had come from the Highlands. Moirra had told her of it long ago, and had promised to tell Aishlinn more when she was older. But Moirra had died not long after and had taken her secrets to her grave.
    With no idea just how far away Scotland might be she kept the horse at a full run.   She prayed for God’s speed and mercy. She’d need his divine intervention in finding her mother’s clan, for she hadn’t a clue how to do it on her own.   
     

Three
     
    Duncan McEwan and his men had been riding for days. They searched for the reivers who had taken some thirty head of cattle from their clan more than a sinnight ago.   Duncan had been certain it had been a clan with which they feuded that had stolen the cattle.   Their mission was simple; find the thieves, inflict a swift and befitting punishment and bring back that which belonged to them.  
    However, the tracks Duncan and his men followed did not lead in the direction of the clan with which they feuded.   They led instead towards land the English had taken from Scotland decades ago. Duncan could not imagine why reivers would travel such a distance to steal cattle.   None of it made much sense.
    He and his men were stopped near a wide stream as they allowed their horses to drink and rest before heading out again to points yet uncertain. ‘Twas growing late in the day and the sun shone brightly as it cast dappled shadows across their bare chests. ‘Twas early spring now and Duncan was glad the days were growing longer and warmer.
    Duncan was dressed only in his leather trews and boots with his sword hanging at his side and his broadsword strapped to his back. ‘Twas warm for this time of year and he knew that the weather could change quickly and without notice.   He thought back to something his father had been fond of saying: Welcome to Scotland lads! Don’t like the weather? Wait a few minutes. It’ll change.
    His father had been such a good and honorable man and his death, even after these many years, still tore at Duncan’s heart.   Someday Duncan hoped to exact his vengeance on the man who had killed not only his father but also his entire family.
      Duncan looked around at the five men he traveled with. On or off the battlefield, these were men he could depend on. Hellions, aye, but fierce, loyal and honorable warriors each.     
    He smiled as his cousin Rowan entertained them with the stories of lasses he had conquered.   They’d all heard the same stories before, many more than once. A few of the events they had personally witnessed or had been a party to. But after these many days away from the clan and their families any story was better than none.
    Rowan was going on about one particular lass he had the fine pleasure of knowing in Inverness last fall. “Och!” he said.   “She was appeared to be a very fine bar wench! Her hair as soft as a new bairn’s bottom and her eyes were the brightest blue I’d ever seen!”
    Findley and Richard McKenna tried to hide their knowing smiles. Though three years separated them in age they looked very much like twins with their matching brown hair and eyes.   They were of the same height and build, and whether frowning