The Campbell Trilogy Read online

  Mor’s voice was thick with tears. “She was attacked in the woods on the way to the village of Rothesay to buy some cloth.”

  Caitrina was dumbstruck. “But who would do such a thing?”

  Her old nurse shook her head. “She didn’t recognize them. But from her description, they’ve the sound of broken men.”

  “On Bute?” Caitrina asked, shocked.

  Mor gave her an odd look. “There are outlaws everywhere, child. We’ve been more fortunate than most, but no place is immune.”

  You are a cosseted girl who lives in a glass castle. Jamie’s words came back to her with growing horror.

  Mor wiped the girl’s brow with a damp piece of cloth, but the light touch made the girl jerk with pain. The sound she made brought the sting of tears to Caitrina’s eyes.

  It seemed the world that Jamie had warned her about had just made its brutal appearance. His objective to clear the Highlands of outlaws no longer rang so false. Dear God, what else had she been wrong about?

  Chapter 8

  The vicious attack on the serving girl Mary brought the problem of rampant lawlessness in the Highlands home to Caitrina in full force. The sanctity of Ascog had been violated, and never again would she feel completely safe and secure. It seemed that in the space of a few hours, her world had shifted. Outlaws were no longer an amorphous problem; they were a very real threat.

  Caitrina had never seen her father so angry. He took the attack on one of his clan as a personal offense and immediately dispatched a team of warriors to track the outlaws; but his men returned the next day, unable to find any sign of them. For the first time, he forbade Caitrina from going into the woods near the castle without an escort.

  Jamie’s warning haunted her. That his prediction had come true so quickly made her wonder whether he knew more than he had let on. It also made her question her judgment of him. He saw himself as a force of law and order and claimed to be trying to rid the Highlands of outlaws. For the first time, she realized there might be a need for such authority.

  Argyll was the devil and clan Campbell his spawn, but was the truth perhaps more complicated than that? Had she judged Jamie Campbell too harshly? Had she wrongly accused him of brutality when he was only trying to bring order to the land? She’d seen him simply as a Campbell and closed her eyes to what was before her, choosing to listen to rumor instead. He was a hard man and a fierce warrior, but never once had she seen any signs of cruelty or unfairness.

  But what did it matter? After what she’d said to him, she doubted she would ever see him again. The realization filled her with a deep sense of regret and a dull ache in her chest that would not quiet.

  Finally, a few days after the attack, Caitrina realized that she had to do something. Her father had urged her to consider Jamie Campbell’s offer, and she intended to find out why. Not for her clan, but for herself—though she realized it might be too late.

  She’d just entered the great hall in search of her father when she heard the cry go out to drop the yett. Her blood ran cold. Closing the gate in the middle of the day could mean only one thing: trouble.

  Heart pounding, she raced to the window in the great hall just in time to see the guard who was manning the gate tumble over the curtain wall, an arrow protruding from his back. She didn’t need to look down to know that attackers were already inside. Another guard attempted to lower the yett but took a hagbut shot in the stomach for his efforts.

  Chaos reigned as her clansmen fought to take control against the surprise attack. She froze at the window in horror, watching helplessly as a considerable force of men—numbering at least a few score—stormed through the gate and swarmed the barmkin. They’d obviously come prepared for battle; the steel from their helmets and mail gleamed in the sunlight. They carried swords, but a good number were armed with guns as well. This was no ragged band of marauding outlaws, she realized. These were well-outfitted soldiers, which perhaps explained how they’d virtually walked right in. They did not wear the regalia of the king’s guard, leaving only one possibility—her heart dropped—Argyll.

  A sick feeling twisted low in her stomach as she picked through the crowd of armored men near the front, looking for one in particular. Please, not him. She was able to identify the leader right away by the way he was issuing orders, and she breathed an uneasy sigh of relief. The man wasn’t tall or broad enough to be Jamie.

  The fighting was over before it really started. There was nothing her father’s men could do. Once the soldiers had breached the gate, the battle was already won. To Caitrina’s great relief, she realized that the invaders didn’t appear intent on attack but seemed to be looking for something. They’d obviously come with a purpose.

  What did they want? And where were her father and brothers?

  Her gaze swept the courtyard. There. At the far side of the yard, just coming into view, her father and a score of his guardsmen, including Malcolm and Niall, were rushing from the armory. They’d not had time to properly outfit themselves for battle, wearing the leather jerks and plaids they wore for practice rather than mail or cotuns, but at least they’d taken the time to put on steel knapscalls to protect their heads. And they appeared to be well armed.

  She heard her father’s voice ring out in anger as he confronted the Campbell leader. The two men argued back and forth, but it was difficult to hear what they were saying. At one point, she heard the Campbell say clearly: “We know he’s here. Tell us where he is or suffer the consequences.”

  Who were they talking about?

  The Campbell pointed up to the tower and said something, turning his face toward hers. Her brows drew together. It was strange. He seemed familiar somehow. Whatever he said, however, had enraged her father, and his guardsmen clasped their claymores threateningly behind him.

  Her pulse raced, knowing that the situation was deteriorating fast.

  The commotion must have alerted the castle servants that something was wrong. The great hall started to fill with people, and thankfully, Mor, ever the voice of reason, appeared to stem the rising panic.

  Like a veteran general, the old nursemaid started issuing orders. “Hurry,” she said to a few young kitchen maids. “Run to the kitchens and bring up the wood used for cooking and the oil for the lamps.” To another she said, “Bring me all the linen you can find.”

  Caitrina’s chest clamped, knowing exactly what Mor intended. It was something her father had drummed into Caitrina’s head countless times: If they were ever under attack and the gate was breached, set fire to the stairs.

  No! The reaction was visceral. Father, Malcolm, and Niall were out there. She ran up to Mor and clutched her arm. “Stop. We can’t do it. They will have nowhere to go.”

  Mor took her by the shoulders and gave her a hard shake. “Your father and brothers can take care of themselves. They can flee into the hills and hide in the caves if necessary. But they will never leave if you are not safe.”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t do it. “But—”

  “They are doing their job, Caitrina. You must do yours.” She lowered her voice to a whisper and with her eyes indicated someone across the room. “Think of the lad.”

  Brian.

  She sucked in her breath, looking around frantically, and found him emerging from the tower stairwell, holding an enormous sword that her father kept in the laird’s solar. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so terrifying. He darted across the room toward the door. Guessing what he was about, Caitrina shot after him and caught him by the arm. “Stop, Brian, you can’t go out there.”

  He tried to pull away. “Let go of me, Caiti.”

  He looked far older than his two and ten years. She read his mulish expression and thought quickly, knowing his young man’s pride was at stake. “We need you in here. If you leave, there will be no one to protect us.”

  His gaze swept the room behind her, seeing the dozen or so frightened women and children. At this time of day, most of the men were busy outside, practicin