Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
A nnabelle was up and ready to go when there was a knock on the door. She opened it to see both Jen and Sally waiting there in the corridor for her. “Hey, how did you sleep?” Jen asked.
“Well, for the most part,” Annabelle replied, not sharing the fact that she’d had a nightmare about Edward again. It had been a while since she’d experienced one and she hoped it would be a long time before she had another.
“I brought you some nibbles from the kitchen for your journey,” Sally said, holding up a bundle.
“Thank you, Sally, that’s so thoughtful.” Annabelle took the package from her.
“The men are downstairs eating before heading out, you probably want to get something to eat as well,” Jen said. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, let me grab my bag.” Annabelle turned toward the bed and picked up the small bag she’d stuffed her clothes into.
“I brought you a cloak as well, I think you might need it. It gets a bit chilly,” Jen said, fastening it around Annabelle’s shoulders.
“Thanks, you and Sally have thought of everything.”
They headed for the dining hall and ate together before following the others out to the stable. Annabelle greeted Jamie with a kiss and then went to see to her horse. She was saddled and ready to go within minutes.
“Have a safe trip,” Jen said.
“Godspeed,” Mae said to the group with a wave as she stood next to Niall and Catherine.
“Be safe,” Catherine called, her eyes on Eamon.
Their group of six rode out of the gates which quickly shut behind them. Jamie led them over the uneven terrain of the Scottish landscape. The chilly wind whipped through Annabelle's hair as she clung to her reins, the thrill of adventure coursing through her veins. They were heading back to the scene.
As they reached the area, Annabelle studied the site. The carriage was one of opulence, not a simple mode of transportation, but one that spoke of wealth. The wheels were busted on it, and it had been tipped on its side, the front of it twisted and broken. The door hung off its hinges, as though someone of great strength had ripped it open.
Climbing down from her horse, Annabelle walked over to it, looking for clues. She bent over and picked up the leather straps that were on the ground near the front and studied the ends. “They’ve been cut.”
“Aye,” Jamie said from next to her.
She headed for the door to look inside, but Jamie grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her hand immediately going to her dirk.
“It’s nae a pretty sight, lass,” he warned.
Annabelle closed her eyes for a moment and steeled her backbone for what she was going to see. She gave him a nod and moved forward, stepped on the edge of the carriage to boost herself toward the door and peered inside. There were two men, one well-dressed, his throat slashed, blood dried and gummy on his neck. The other had a couple of arrows piercing it’s chest and face.
She looked back at Jamie. “So at least two assailants, one with a sword and one with a bow.”
“We think there’s more than that, lass. We’ve two dead that we believe were part of the marauder group. I didn’t tell Cam, but they’re dressed in Donald tartan.”
“Are they our men?” Annabelle questioned.
“Nae, I’ve nae seen them a’fore.” Jamie shook his head.
“Then likely, they’re wearing the plaid to throw suspicion on the Donalds.”
Jamie agreed.
Annabelle looked back into the cab of the carriage. Inside she noticed a piece of cloth. It was fine silk, and she reached for it. “Jamie, I think this came from Maeve’s dress.”
“Aye lass, you could have the right of it.” He took the fabric from her. “So we should look for signs of where she might have been taken.” He turned to Eamon and the others. “We tried to look for signs yesterday, but the sun was dim in the cover of the trees as it went down, maybe we will have better luck today. Look for any other signs of Maeve,” he directed.
The men set off toward the trees, spreading out, looking for anything that would give them a direction.
Annabelle moved from the carriage to the bodies on the ground. There was one dressed in Campbell tartan, at least Annabelle assumed it was the Campbell tartan, an arrow piercing his chest. From the position of the body in relation to the carriage, she said, “This was the driver.”
Jamie was her shadow, following her steps as she studied the scene. “Aye, I agree.”
Next Annabelle moved on to a man dressed less like a Highlander and more like an Englishman, or what she imagined was probably the attire of a wealthy English gentleman of the 17 th century. “Brandon Campbell?” she said, pointing to the body which had numerous sword wounds, including one to the neck.
“I believe so, aye.”
There was a sword in the man’s hand, which was covered in dried blood. He had engaged in battle with these bandits but though he’d probably killed or maimed some of them, it hadn’t been enough to stop them from taking his sister.
Annabelle looked from the carriage to where Brandon lay. “He wasn’t in the carriage when that ambush occurred. If he had been, he’d have died in there like the others. So he was riding on his own.”
Jamie looked at her, his eyes told her he was impressed with her deductions. “That tis likely,” he agreed.
“I wish I had a lab where I could send some of this for analysis,” Annabelle muttered as she studied the scene. “Okay, so Brandon fought these two, maybe another?” She pointed at the two bandits dead about a foot away. She picked up one of the dead men’s swords and carried it over to Brandon’s body. She looked at the splashes of blood on the weapon and matched them up the slashes on the body. “See these wounds? These came from this man.” She turned back to one of the bandits dressed in Donald tartan.
“You can tell that?” Jamie asked in surprise.
Annabelle nodded. “See the placement of the blood? It’s consistent with these slash marks.” She turned to the other bandit and picked up his sword. It was clean. “This one didn’t manage to get a hit in, and he’s been stabbed through the back, so I’d say Brandon took him down first, then this guy joined the fight, got the slashes in and then there had to be a third one at least.”
“Why?”
“Because someone made those stabs to Brandon’s chest and neck.”
Annabelle moved from the two bandits to the others, the three beheaded men and noticed there were also arrows in their bodies as well. She looked up at Jamie and said, “I’m going to guess there were at least ten to twelve bandits, from how this scene looks. I can’t really see footprints, because the horses were clearly agitated prior to being taken, and they messed with the prints, leaving behind their own. But if you look at each individual death, it had to all be going on nearly at once.”
“I think you’re right, lass,” Jamie said grimly. “And they wanted the Campbells to believe we were the ones bringing death to them.”
Annabelle nodded as the others returned.
“We tracked the horse toward the stream, but once there, the signs disappeared,” Artair said.
“We should gather the dead and bury them before scavengers show up,” Jamie suggested.
“Aye,” Eamon replied. “We’ll clear an area for the graves.”
* * *
It took several hours to get the bodies all buried and then set up a small camp nearby. They were going to spend the evening under the stars and return to the fort in the morning. Annabelle had packed for a few days and was surprised they weren’t going to go looking for the men who’d taken Maeve. She knew that every minute counted, but she didn’t know the terrain here and wouldn’t even begin to know how to track them.
The men took turns keeping watch throughout the night and in the morning, they returned to the fort to report to Cam. Annabelle stood at Jamie’s side as he told him what they’d found. This time including the fact the two of the bandits were dressed in Donald tartan.
Cam’s jaw tensed. “And you didnae recognize them? Could they be ones who left with Malcolm?”
Jamie shook his head. “They weren’t family, Cam. I know our family. These weren’t ours.”
He sighed. “I’m going to have to send word to the Laird.”
Annabelle frowned, her brow wrinkled at that suggestion. “Why inform him? Is he expecting to hear from them?”
“Aye. They should have been here for a little more ‘an a week now. He would have sent word back to the Laird with his impressions of us.” Cam’s jaw ticked.
“We’ll go back out and continue the search for Maeve in the morning. Give Annabelle a chance to rest in her own bed for the night. Sleeping on the ground had to be difficult for her.” Jamie said, giving her a tender look.
“It was fine, we shouldn’t waste any time, Jamie. Who knows what they are doing to poor Maeve.” She had seen some horrid behavior from men toward women in her job and she hated to think that after watching her brother and friends slaughtered, she was tortured or worse as well.
“You’re a brave one, lass, but I think it would be best to go out again at first light.”
With a sigh, Annabelle accepted that, but she didn’t agree. She wanted to get out there and find her.