The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(46)

No one had an answer.

“When is this supposed to happen?” MacLeod asked. The captain of the Highland Guard and at one time one of Lachlan’s fiercest enemies would want to know every detail.

“My source says in a few days. They are making preparations now. For obvious reasons, they are keeping it very quiet.”

“How can we be sure your source is telling the truth?” the king asked. “What if it’s a trap?”

Lachlan’s mouth thinned. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. I’m leaving tonight.”

He looked at both men, daring either one of them to argue with him.

The silence dragged on. Lachlan sensed he wasn’t going to like what was coming next. He was right.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Bruce asked. “Perhaps it would be best if you let MacLeod—”

Lachlan leaned forward. “There is no way in hell I’m not going.”

The king pretended not to notice the threat, but MacLeod frowned. “Have care, Viper,” he said. “You aren’t exactly rational about this.”

That was putting it mildly. Hell, obsessed was putting it mildly. From the moment he’d seen her loaded into that cart, knowing he was responsible, Lachlan had vowed to see Bella freed.

When he’d learned of the fate that had befallen her, he’d been half-crazed with the need to get her out. But delays, war, and a failed attempt had stood in his way. Now, thanks to this new information, he had another chance. There was no way in hell he wasn’t going. This was his mission.

“The king has good reason for caution,” MacLeod added.

“Indeed I do,” Bruce said. “Thanks to John of Lorn, your identity as one of the members of my ‘secret’ army has just been revealed. You are one of the most wanted men in Scotland right now. If you are captured, the English will torture you until you reveal the names of the others. With three hundred marks on your head, everyone will be hunting you. You need to stay hidden for a while. Perhaps visit that isle you will soon be calling home.”

Lachlan’s glare was mutinous. The king wouldn’t distract him with talk of his reward. Lachlan’s three years of agreed-upon service was all but fulfilled. The land and coin he’d been promised would be his when Bruce held his first council. His debts would finally be paid, and he’d have the solitude and peace he craved. It was almost done. But he had one final mission to complete before he could leave.

“I’ve been tortured before,” he said flatly. “Nothing they do to me will force me to reveal the names of my fellow guardsmen. Just like nothing will stop me from doing this.” He held the king’s gaze. “I have to do this.”

The king studied him silently for a moment before turning to MacLeod. The fierce Island Chief shrugged. “I didn’t think he’d see reason.”

“Neither did I,” the king said with a sigh of resignation. He turned back to Lachlan and gave him a black scowl. “You’d better be careful.”

The king didn’t need to tell him that. He had no desire to ever be locked up in another pit prison. Dark holes held no fond memories for him. He repressed the reflexive shudder. To free her he would risk it. He would risk just about anything. “Who can I take?”

The king and MacLeod conferred privately for a moment before MacLeod answered. “Raider, Dragon, Hunter, and Striker.”

Lachlan muttered an oath. He’d be glad for Lamont’s tracking skills and MacLean’s gift with strategy, but he’d be spending half his time trying to prevent Boyd and Seton from killing one another. “What about Saint and Templar?” he asked, referring to MacKay and Gordon.

“They’re coming with me, Hawk, and Arrow,” MacLeod said. “If they’re both being moved, we’re going to try to free Mary as well.”

Lachlan nodded grimly. Like Bella, young Mary Bruce had been hung from a cage—hers was located at Roxburgh Castle.

The first Edward also had originally wanted to hang Bruce’s daughter Marjory from a cage at the Tower of London, but she’d been given a reprieve. Like her Aunt Christina, Marjory had been sent to a nunnery instead.

The queen, probably due to her powerful father, Edward’s close cohort the Earl of Ulster, had been placed under house arrest in Burstwick. The young Earl of Mar had been sent to the English court to be raised. The Earl of Atholl, however, had not been so fortunate. He’d been sent to the gallows.

MacKay and Gordon had been mistaken for ordinary men-at-arms. They’d been imprisoned at Urquhart for a few months, but Lachlan and other members of the Highland Guard had managed to free them.

“And the other women?”

Bruce’s face was somber. “We’ve heard from my old friend Lamberton, the Bishop of St. Andrews—freed from prison but still confined in England—that my wife, daughter, and sister Christina are being treated well. They are still too far south and too well guarded to attempt anything. But when the moment is right, I will lead the damned rescue party myself.”

Lachlan nodded. Though he wished all the women could be freed, it was Bella and young Mary whose harsh treatment had made them the first to rescue.

With his team in place, Lachlan didn’t waste any time. Before the c**k had crowed, he and the other guardsmen were riding hard for Berwick.

Bella stood gazing out the small window in her tower room, watching the people bustling around the courtyard below as they went about their duties and activities for the day. After more than two years, the faces were familiar to her. There was Harry the young stable lad, fetching water for the horses, and Annie, the young girl from the village who seemed to look for any excuse to linger near Will, the green-and-gold-liveried man-at-arms who excelled with a bow.