Timeless Tales of Honor Read Free Page B

her. “I’m sending you to Scotland. They won’t think to look for you there.” He sounded anxious as he led her and her horse down the road. “If you want freedom Aishlinn, you must go to the Highlands. Trust me!” There was more than a hint of fear and desperation in his voice.
    “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. Why on earth he was sending her to Scotland, she had no clear idea. She could only pray that Baltair was right in his decision.
    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 she was just a little girl. Aishlinn knew very little of her mother’s life before she had married Broc, but she did know that her mother had come from the Highlands. It had been Moirra who had told her. She had promised to tell Aishlinn more when she was older. Unfortunately, Moirra had died before she could keep her word.
    If Moirra was correct, then there was a small chance that Aishlinn could find her mother’s clan. Perhaps she could even learn who her blood father had been. Perhaps her mother’s family or her father’s might be willing to take her in, offer her a home.
    With no idea just how far away Scotland might be, Aishlinn kept the horse at a full run. She prayed for God’s speed and His mercy. She would need His divine intervention in finding her mother’s clan, for she hadn’t a clue how to do it on her own.

Chapter Three
    D uncan McEwan and his men had been riding for days, searching for the reivers who had taken some thirty head of cattle from their clan more than a sennight ago. Their mission was simple; find the thieves, inflict a swift and befitting punishment and bring back that which belonged to them.
    Duncan had been convinced the thieves had belonged to a clan with which his own feuded. However, the tracks they had been following, did not lead in the direction of the Buchannans. Instead, they led away and toward 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 uncertain. ’Twas growing late in the day and the sun shone brightly as it cast dappled shadows across their bare chests and the cold ground. ’Twas early spring now and he 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 all too well 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 fer it will surely 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 every man and woman, and nearly every child from his village.
    Duncan looked around at the six 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