Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
A week had passed since Eamon had recovered and gone back on patrol and Catherine had shared that kiss with Sir Kellan. He’d not approached her in all that time, neither of them had, but Sir Kellan at least smiled at her when they saw each other across the room. Eamon had just avoided her as much as she had avoided him.
So with a heavy heart, Catherine had decided maybe she needed to move on. With that in mind, she stopped avoiding Sir Kellan. She was seated with him at a table in the courtyard enjoying an afternoon meal of sliced meat, cheese and bread as they spoke of various poets, and she laughed at the story he was telling her of a time he’d spent in school.
Catherine hadn’t been paying much attention to anyone around them, so she hadn’t noticed Eamon approaching her until he was halfway to them. He laughter died in her throat and her face fell as their gazes met across the courtyard. Instead of continuing toward her, Eamon turned and walked away.
Catherine watched Eamon retreat, her heart aching at the hurt she had seen in his eyes. Had she been wrong? Had he not been pushing her away? Had she had hurt him by allowing Kellan's advances? The guilt she was now feeling gnawed at her conscience. She had never meant to cause him any pain. She needed to let him know that she had no feelings for Kellan and that she wanted to be with him.
Catherine's heart raced as she rushed after Eamon, determined to clear the air between them. Sir Kellan called after her, but she ignored him as her sole focus was on Eamon. She followed him into the great hall, her steps quickening to catch up. However, before she could speak, Cam MacDonald, the leader of the clan, who had an air of urgency about him, intercepted Eamon as he moved swiftly past her.
"Eamon, we’ve just had word that bandits have robbed and razed one of the farms at the far edge of our territory in the north."
Catherine paused her steps at Cam’s words. How was she supposed to confront Eamon now? She wanted to pull him aside and beg him to talk to her, to clear the air, but she also knew that his duty to the clan had to come first. It was for the good and safety of everyone that he did.
Eamon glanced at her, his brow furrowed before refocusing on Cam. “Do you want me and my men to investigate?”
"Aye. We must find out what has occurred and ensure no further threat is imminent. If this is Malcolm’s doing, I want him brought in. I am hearing rumors from some of the men in our small village that he has been recruiting others to his cause and has already amassed a large group of like-minded individuals.”
Eamon nodded. "Aye, very well. I’ll gather my men and we’ll leave immediately. I assure you, we will find out what happened."
Cam put a hand on his shoulder in support. "Good. Our people need to know that though we no longer own the land, we support them and will see to their safety.”
Eamon's hand rested on the hilt of his sword; his stance resolute. "They'll see it. We'll show them that the Donalds are strong and united. And if this is Malcolm and his people’s doing, we shall see them brought before the clan to face their wrongdoings."
Catherine's eyes moved between Cam and Eamon, her admiration for their commitment to the clan growing stronger. In this moment, the trivialities of her own emotional turmoil faded into the background, replaced by a sense of unity with these people and their struggles.
As Cam finished outlining his orders, Eamon nodded in understanding, his jaw set with determination. With that, Eamon turned and strode out of the hall, without another look at her.
The next evening, The dining hall was filled with a tense energy as the clan gathered for supper. Catherine's gaze kept darting toward the entrance, her heart racing with anticipation for Eamon's return. The whole atmosphere in the hall seemed charged, as if everyone could sense that something was amiss.
Finally, after waiting more than a day, there was a commotion in the doorway to the dining hall, and Eamon entered, his men following behind him. Dirt-streaked and weary, they looked like they had been through a battle. Catherine's eyes locked onto Eamon, relief flooding her as she saw him safe, but her heart sank at the exhaustion etched on his face.
As Eamon approached the head table, Cam stood. "Eamon, what news do you bring?" His voice was full of grave concern.
“We rode out to the farm, it was indeed hit by these bandits, however, we arrived too late to help. We found no survivors and no witnesses to the attack. I’m afraid that if there were any alive, they’ve either been taken, or they were all killed. I should have asked before, who brought you the news of the attack?”
“Twas young Seamus MacDonald. His Da told him to run to the fort and get help. I’m saddened to know we were too late.” Cam’s fists clenched.
“He’s but a wee lad, he ran the whole way to Fort Donald?” Eamon asked, looking appalled.
“Aye, he’s a strong one, and fast, which is probably why he was able to get away. We will avenge his parents deaths and see these bandits hanged,” Cam declared.
“That we will, Chief.” Eamon and his men nodded.
Cam's gaze returned to Eamon. "Get some rest, morning will come sooner than you think, and I want you and your men back out there. I’ll send others to tend to Evander, Marta, and the others.”
“What are you going to do about Seamus?” Eamon asked.
“We’ll keep him here, he’s with his aunt Sally.”
Eamon nodded, his eyes finding Catherine's briefly before he turned to leave the hall.
The tension in the air seemed to hang even heavier as the clan resumed their supper, each member acutely aware of the threats that surrounded them and the duty that bound them together.
Catherine felt a pang in her heart at Eamon's avoidance to her. No doubt he was tired and wanted to rest, but she wished she could go to him. She wouldn’t but she really wanted to. She wanted to clear the air between them and make him realize that she cared for him, but it was going to have to wait. She had research to do.
After dinner, seated in the library, Catherine pored over her research notes. The flickering light of candles cast a warm glow on the wooden tabletop and the intricately woven tapestries adorning the walls.
With a furrowed brow, Catherine scanned through her notes from when she’d first arrived here. She’d written down everything she could recall about this time period that she’d read about before she’d been pulled to this time and place by Dub Sith. Everything pertinent to Scotland, and specifically to Islay. There wasn’t much about Islay specifically, but something was floating in the back of her mind that she thought might be helpful to their current situation.
She slowly read through each of her notes, and she almost missed it. The dates were off, at least the dates she’d recalled were off, but it seemed to fit. She closed her eyes and put herself back in that lecture hall where she’d first heard about the bandits that had terrorized all of northern Scotland above the Scottish seas. She couldn’t recall the names, only that they’d cut a swath of destruction through Islay, leaving numerous dead as they ransacked farms and villages.
“It has to be them,” she said, opening her eyes. She went back to the notes. She’d recalled that they’d been stopped by local authorities who had begun searching for them in various villages on Islay. She couldn’t recall which village they were found in though. Still it was something and she needed to tell Eamon. She needed to help.
Early the next morning, before the sun even peeked over the horizon, Catherine got dressed and rushed down to the stables. She wanted to catch Eamon before he and his men set out. She needed to tell him what she recalled. When she reached the stables, several of the men were already saddling horses and preparing to ride. Catherine was frantic as she searched for Eamon in the stables.
“Lass, what are you doing here at this time of morning?”
Catherine spun around to see Eamon watching her with a look of consternation upon his face. “Thank God. I needed to talk to you.”
“I’m sorry, lass, but I haven’t time?—”
Catherine cut him off. “This is about the men you’re searching for. I think I know where you’ll find them.”
Eamon’s brow crinkled as he focused on her. “What do you mean? How do you know?”
Catherine held up her hands. “Hear me out.”
He nodded. “I will listen, lass, but we need to be quick about it. The sun will be rising shortly, and we need to get started.”
“Okay, so last year, well, my last year, not yours, I was taking a class on the age of enlightenment in Scotland, which refers to this century we’re in now. There was a section of the class that was dedicated to particular periods during the century where there were uprisings in crime. I remembered reading about a group of bandits who were finally brought to justice after their capture at an Inn.”
“I am afraid I don’t understand, love, are you saying they’ve already been captured? By who?”
Shaking her head, Catherine replied, “No, not yet, but they will be. They’ll be found at an Inn. They had rented rooms in that inn, and the guards had stopped there to rest and stumbled across them. At least that’s what was written in the recounting of their capture.”
“Do you know which inn it twas?”
Catherine pursed her lips. “No. Unfortunately. All I recall was it was definitely in Islay, but I don’t know what town.”
Eamon's gaze softened as he raised a hand to her cheek. "You've a keen mind, Catherine, and I am grateful that you remembered that much. Tis a grand idea to search the villages.”
“You think so?”
“Aye, I do. The men and I will investigate the nearby villages and check every inn for anyone suspicious. We've been searching the wilderness thinking they wouldnae dare set foot into a town where they might be recognized. With your knowledge, we are a step closer to finding them and bringing them to justice. I’ll go and speak with Cam about your idea once I inform my men that we’ll be delayed.”
Catherine smiled. "I'm glad I could help, Eamon. I hope this leads to some answers."
Eamon stepped closer, his hand still cradling her cheek. "Thank you, lass. Your help does not go unnoticed. I appreciate it, and I know Cam will as well. We’ll make a Donald out of you yet." He winked.
Catherine's cheeks flushed at his words, her heart fluttering in response. "I'm just doing what I can to contribute."
Eamon's gaze held hers for a lingering moment before he nodded, his attention shifting back to his horse. "I'll tell the men, and then meet with Cam. This could bring an end to the threats we’ve been facing.”
Catherine placed her hand over his and stared up into his face. “Be careful, won’t you?”
“Aye, lass.” Eamon stood there for another second and then withdrew his hand and started to stride off to speak to his men, but he paused and turned back toward her. “Catherine, would you be willing to come speak with Cam as well?” he asked.
A little thrill went through her that he was asking for her to be a part of this. “I’d be happy to. I want to help.”
Eamon nodded. “I’ll meet you inside.”
Catherine watched him go and then hurried back to the castle. She was going to meet with the chief and hopefully help the clan as well as Eamon capture these thugs.