Chapter Nineteen
“Argyle! Brendan! What are ye doing here?”
The shocked question came from Annaleigh, who had just walked into the great hall with Jemma, straight to a table next to the entry door where two dirty, tired Scotsmen were stuffing themselves with mutton and carrots.
They were so hungry that they didn’t even stop eating when Annaleigh came up to the table, her mouth hanging open.
“Annie, lass,” Argyle said, chewing. “’Tis been a long time since we’ve seen ye. Are ye a Sassenach yet?”
Annaleigh frowned at his silly question. “Of course not,” she said, standing at the end of the table with her hands on her hips. “Why are ye here?”
Argyle took a couple of swallows of ale before looking between Jemma and Annaleigh. “Did Aunt Jemma tell ye?”
Annaleigh looked at Jemma. “Tell me what?”
Jemma scowled. “What am I tae tell her?” she said. “Ye wouldna tell me, so here she is. Give her Robbie’s message and be done with it.”
Argyle swallowed the bite in his mouth, casting Brendan a long look before answering. “Aunt Jemma, I swore tae Robbie that I would tell Annie in private,” he said. “If he wanted ye tae hear, he would have told me tae tell ye.”
Jemma was unhappy with their nonsense and she knew for a fact that it was nonsense.
But they had come a long way, and there had been some difficulty, so she figured that no harm could come to Annaleigh in full view of the entire hall.
Argyle and Brendan had always been shifty, but more than that, they were part of the movement against Annaleigh’s father, according to Annaleigh.
Perhaps that’s what had Jemma most suspicious.
Against her better judgment, however, she relented.
“Very well,” she said. “I’ll go. But ye’ll stay here and tell her. Ye’ll not leave the hall, do ye hear?”
Argyle and Brendan solemnly nodded and Jemma, moderately satisfied, headed off to the other end of the hall where men were becoming loud and drunk and a fight was breaking out. When the petite woman became lost in the sea of men, Argyle bolted to his feet.
“Ye must come with us right away, Annie,” he said. “Robbie is dying. He’s asking for ye!”
Annaleigh gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “What happened?” she said, immediately in tears. “What’s wrong with him?”
Argyle was moving around the table, already grasping for her. “He sent us tae tell ye but he doesna want anyone else tae know,” he said. “Not even Aunt Jemma or Aunt Jordan. He told us only tae tell ye and tae bring ye home right away.”
Startled and frightened with the news about her brother, Annaleigh let Argyle lead her out of the hall in spite of the fact that Jemma had told them to remain.
Brendan was behind her, his hands on her shoulders as Argyle took her wrists, all of them herding her out of the hall the moment Jemma’s back was turned.
And Annaleigh went right along with it.
“What’s the matter?” she wept. “Please tell me. What happened tae my brother?”
Both Argyle and Brendan were keeping an eye out for anyone who might prevent them from doing what needed to be done.
They had Annaleigh exactly where they wanted her and they didn’t want interference from anyone.
Argyle had daggers on him, as did Brendan, and if anyone tried to stop them, a dagger would be pointed straight at Annaleigh.
They hadn’t expected to have her in their possession so quickly, but here she was.
They had to move and move quickly or all would be lost.
“A fever,” Argyle said. “He’s been sick for days with it and the physic says he’s dying. But he doesna want anyone tae know.”
Annaleigh wept with sorrow. “But why?” she said, wiping her face. “Mayhap we could find help for him. We have wounded in the hall from a battle yesterday or I would ask our own physic tae tend him, but he has many wounded. Men are dying. We lost a knight today, a man who was my friend.”
Argyle looked at her, brow furrowed. “No knight is a friend of a Scots,” he said. “I asked ye if ye were a Sassenach yet. If an English knight is yer friend, then mayhap ye are. Break yer father’s heart!”
Annaleigh yanked her hands away from him. “Dunna say such things, Argyle Scott,” she said, wiping more tears from her cheeks. “My brother is dying and ye scold me? What about my da? Is he well?”
Argyle grasped her wrist again, pulling her towards the stables, which weren’t too far away, fortunately. He pulled her past the walled garden and around the corner where the stable yard was.
“Yer da is well,” Argyle said. “But ye must come. When we left, he was showing signs that he might be becoming ill also, so ye must come. But we canna tell anyone.”
“But why?” Annaleigh begged.
Argyle came to an abrupt halt. “Because if the Sassenach know yer brother is dying, and mayhap yer father is ill, it will weaken the clan,” he said. “The death of a chief and his heir will make the clan weak to our enemies, so ye canna tell.”
It was a perfectly logical statement if they were dealing with enemy English, but they weren’t. Annaleigh was puzzled as well as distraught.
“But William and Jordan are our kin,” she said. “They wouldna think us weak. They would help.”
“They’re English,” Argyle hissed at her. “They are not our kin.”
“They are!”
Argyle yanked on her. “This is the way Robbie wanted it, so this is the way we’re going tae do it.”
Annaleigh yelped when he yanked too hard and twisted her wrist. “Argyle!” she snapped. “Let me go!”
They had reached the side entrance to the stables, a small door that the servants used to go in and out, and Argyle let go of Annaleigh’s wrist long enough to grab her by the hair.
He yanked and pulled her against the wall, out of sight, as Brendan crowded in around them to shield them in the darkness.
“If ye make a sound, they’ll stop us,” Argyle hissed, his stinking breath in her face. “Is that what ye want? For yer brother tae die without ye by his side?”
Annaleigh was less distraught and more fearful now.
Argyle was hurting her, as if she were his captive or someone to be hated, which told her that something was wrong.
She’d foolishly come to the stables with her cousins and now…
now, she didn’t have a choice any longer.
She was here whether or not she wanted to be.
She struggled to calm down.
“Argyle, let go of me,” she said steadily. “Ye’re hurting me.”
Argyle loosened his grip, but he didn’t let her go. “Annie, I’ve no time tae argue,” he said. “We must collect horses and leave. My own horse is lame, so I canna ride him. Do ye have a horse of yer own?”
“Nay.”
“Then I’ll steal one.”
Annaleigh was trying to loosen his grip further. “Ye dunna have tae hurt me,” she said, trying to pull her hair free. “I told ye I’d go. I want tae see my brother. But I want tae collect my things before we go.”
Argyle still wouldn’t release her. “Ye canna,” he said. “Those Sassenach bastards may stop ye. Ye want tae see Robbie before he dies, dinna ye?”
Annaleigh stopped struggling against him for a moment, her eyes wide with fear. “Is he really dying?” she asked, moving from Argyle to Brendan. “Bren? Is he really dying?”
In situations like this, Brendan was always the follower and never the leader because if anything went wrong, he could always say that Argyle had forced him to participate. Therefore, he didn’t answer, but looked to Argyle for his response.
“Do ye think we’d come all the way tae Castle Questing just tae trick ye?” Argyle asked. “Use yer head, lass. Of course we wouldna. Robbie is dying and ye must come. Can it be any simpler than that?”
Annaleigh wasn’t unaware of the fact that she was boxed in by her cousins.
They weren’t about to let her out of their sights, nor were they willing to let her stray in any fashion.
They’d spirited her out of the hall and now that she was showing some resistance, Argyle had his hand in her hair.
One way or the other, they were going to force her back with them to Langton.
That told Annaleigh that something was off, indeed.
As she’d told Jemma and Jordan and William when she arrived at Castle Questing those months ago, Argyle and Brendan were two of the men in the clan leading an insurrection against her father.
They hadn’t been obvious about it, but more stirring the embers of discontent.
If they stirred enough embers, a blaze would result.
They’d spoken against their uncle and against his niece, convincing those who would listen that Annaleigh had been the cause of that terrible battle at Etal.
They’d been at the head of the blame against her.
And now they were trying to force her to return home.
She didn’t want to go.
Fear clutched at Annaleigh. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to convince Argyle and Brendan to leave her alone, but she suspected there was no way to discourage them. Therefore, she’d have to be clever about it unless she wanted them to do something drastic.
She had to be compliant.
It was her only hope.
“I believe ye,” she said. “But if ye want me tae find ye a horse, ye’ll have tae let go of my hair. If anyone sees ye, they’ll think ye mean tae do me harm.”
That caused Argyle to drop his hand from her hair. He even smoothed at it, pretending he’d never hurt a hair on her head.
“Where are ye going for the horse?” he asked.
Annaleigh pointed through the open door, into the stables that were dark except for the torchlight that was streaming in from the walls.
“In there,” she said. “There are palfreys at the other end. I’ll go in and ye’ll meet me at the front.”
“We’ll go with ye,” Argyle said in a tone that suggested he wasn’t about to let her get away from him. “Go on, now. We’ll follow.”
Annaleigh was feeling increasingly frightened.
She just knew they were up to no good. Even when she lived at Langton, her father would never leave her alone with this pair.
They were foolish and without restraint, even around their cousin.
Her heart began to pound as she ducked her head to go through the doorway.
The moment she stepped through, she knew she had to do something. She simply couldn’t be complacent with the two of them because she knew, in the end, it would only contribute to her demise.
And she was certain that’s what they had in mind.
As she stepped through the portal, the door itself was open and leaning against the wall to her right. As fast as she could, she leapt clear of the opening and grabbed the door, slamming it back on Argyle’s face.
As Argyle yelped and fell back, his nose smashed, Brendan pushed forward and threw his weight against the door.
Annaleigh couldn’t hold out against it and she stumbled back, but it was enough to give her a head start at running.
She screamed as Brendan tore after her, running for the main entry to the stables where surely someone would hear her.
At this time of night, most of the servants were eating or in bed, but there was always someone around.
She was counting on that someone to raise an alarm.
But she never had the chance.
Brendan caught up to her and grabbed her from behind.
Panicked, Annaleigh struggled against him, throwing her fists and trying to fight him off.
But in the process, she didn’t look where she was going.
She tripped just short of the main stables’ entry and pitched forward with Brendan nearly on top of her.
It was enough momentum to ram her head right into the side of the stables’ entry and the contact was brutal enough that it knocked her unconscious immediately.
Annaleigh went down with Brendan on top of her and no one saw or heard a thing.
Or, so they thought.
Unbeknownst to Argyle and Brendan, the worst was yet to come.