The Ranger (Highland Guard #3)(114)

The narrow funnel of the pass took away some of Bruce’s advantage in numbers, but it wasn’t long before Lorn’s attack collapsed. Arthur reached the front line just as the MacDougall vanguard started to break.

At the head of his army, fighting alongside his closest knights and the members of the Highland Guard, King Robert ordered pursuit of the fleeing clansmen. In the frantic attempt to retreat to Dunstaffnage, many MacDougalls were cut down or drowned while trying to cross the bridge over the River Awe.

They’d won! The MacDougalls’ attempt to best Bruce had failed, and the king had his revenge for Dal Righ. The hold of the most powerful clan in the Highlands had been broken.

Victory was sweet, but it wouldn’t be complete until Arthur found Lorn.

In the chaos of the retreat, he scanned the fleeing clansmen for his enemy. He was glad to see Alan MacDougall leading a contingent of his men to safety.

Catching sight of MacRuairi near the bridge, he made his way down to him.

“Where is he?” Arthur didn’t need to say who.

MacRuairi spat and pointed south to the mouth of Loch Awe. “He never left his birlinn—the bloody coward directed the battle from the water. As soon as the men started to retreat, he fled down the loch.”

Arthur swore, refusing to believe that he could have come so far to be denied the chance for justice at the last moment. “How long ago?”

“Five minutes, not more.”

Then he still had a chance. But he would need MacRuairi’s seafaring skills if he was going to try to catch him. Lorn had three castles on Loch Awe, but the newest—and most heavily fortified—was Innis Chonnel, the former Campbell stronghold. That’s where he would go.

Arthur’s gaze fell levelly on MacRuairi. “Feel like a race?”

The man known as one of the most feared and menacing pirates on the sea smiled—at least it was supposed to be a smile. “I’ll gather the men; you find the boat.”

Arthur was already running down the edge of the river toward the harbor. This was one race he didn’t intend to lose. John of Lorn would not escape his fate this time.

All Anna could do was wait. But not knowing what was happening beyond the thick stone walls of Innis Chonnel Castle was pure torture.

Her heart tugged. Nay, not torture. It was nothing like what Arthur was going through. She couldn’t bear to think about it, yet it seemed she could do nothing else. Imagining what was happening to him ... Not sure whether he lived or died ...

It was madness! How was her uncle going to get into the castle, let alone rescue him?

I should have gone with them. Then at least she would know. But her uncle was right: she would only have led her brother back to the castle.

The hours passed slowly. When not on her knees praying in the small chapel, she tried to keep herself busy.

With most of her father’s soldiers called to battle, only a small force of guardsmen—perhaps a score—had been retained to hold the castle. When her party had arrived the evening before (with no more false trips to the stream), Anna had organized the men into preparing the chambers, freshening the Great Hall, and inventorying the stores.

Innis Chonnel Castle had been built about the same time as Dunstaffnage. Though not as grand, it shared a similar construction. The square-shaped fortress was built upon a rocky base on the southwestern end of the island. The high, thick stone walls surrounded a small courtyard. Two square towers had been built into the corners, the large one serving as the donjon and the second as the guard house. Between them was the Great Hall. Other smaller wooden buildings, housing the barracks, armory, stables, and kitchens, had been built against the walls.

It was strange to think that this had once been Arthur’s home. She’d always enjoyed visiting this castle with her father, but now it felt strange. It felt as if she shouldn’t be there. As if she were an intruder.

She knew it was ridiculous. Castles changed hands all the time in war. But with what he’d told her ...

Anna was torn. Torn between the father she still loved though no longer idolized and the man whom she should hate but couldn’t.

She didn’t want to understand why Arthur had done what he’d done, but she did. She could understand the loyalty that drove him because it drove her as well. Loyalty to king and country. Loyalty to clan and family.

Aye, she especially understood that.

Arthur was a Highlander. Blood for blood was the Highland way. He would feel it his duty to avenge his father’s death. But she knew it was more than vengeance. A part of him was still that little boy who’d watched his father die, believing he should have been able to prevent it. Justice. Revenge. It was also atonement.

But understanding did not bring any answers. What could she do when loving one meant losing the other?

After a restless night, she spent the day after her arrival in much the same way as the first—praying and trying to keep herself busy so she wouldn’t think about what was happening beyond the thick walls. If her fears for Arthur’s fate weren’t enough, there was also the battle being waged.

The world as she knew it could be ending right now. The men she loved could be lying dead or wounded, and yet here, in the protected confines of Innis Chonnel on the isolated isle on Loch Awe, everything appeared normal. The bright sunlight still shimmered off the softly undulating waters of the loch, the birds still flew, and the damp wind still ripped through her hair as she paced the courtyard.