Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“I’m glad ye’re doin’ better,” Michael commented, sitting astride his brown stud.
The morning mist clung to the rolling hills as Helena and Alexander rode side by side, the clip-clop of their horses’ hooves echoing softly along the dirt road.
Helena had insisted on riding her own horse, and Alexander, knowing her spirited nature, hadn’t put up much of a fight.
He couldn’t deny that seeing her astride her dappled-gray mare, her dark hair pinned loosely beneath her hood, made the ride all the more enjoyable.
Michael rode slightly ahead on his stallion, his broad shoulders swaying with each step of the animal beneath him. At his side was James. The two men exchanged jests as they led the way toward the meeting place, a crumbling ruin at the river’s edge, where the truce would finally be signed.
“I’ll admit,” Michael called over his shoulder, glancing back at Alexander, “ye’ve gotten yer strength back quicker than I expected, but ye still cannae best me in a proper bout.”
Alexander snorted, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Is that so, Michael? Seems to me ye’re forgettin’ who knocked ye flat on yer back just two days ago.”
“That was luck,” Michael shot back, laughing. “If ye think otherwise, we’ll settle it when we get back.”
“Settle it? I’ve already settled it,” Alexander snorted.
Helena glanced between them, a wry smile playing on her lips. “If I didnae ken better, I’d think ye two were lads again, fightin’ over who’s the strongest.”
“Lads at heart, Me Lady,” James chimed in, grinning. “Though I’d wager Michael here is just bitter that ye’re watchin’ Alexander’s victories instead of his.”
Michael scoffed, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “Aye, well, I’m nae the one who needs to prove himself in front of his wife.” He looked at Helena, shaking his head. “Ignore them, lass. They’ve nothin’ better to do than try to rile me up.”
“Oh, I think they’re doin’ a fine job of it,” Helena teased, her doe eyes sparkling with mirth.
The ride continued in easy camaraderie. They passed a few farmers along the way, some dragging carts laden with goods for the market, others tending to their fields. A pair of traders nodded respectfully as the group rode by, their ponies saddled with sacks of grain and bolts of fabric.
The hum of everyday life gradually faded as the road narrowed and the trees thickened, their branches arching overhead to form a canopy.
Before long, the sound of rushing water reached their ears, the river announcing their approach.
The ruin came into view as they crested a low hill, its weathered stone walls rising like a ghost from the mist. Once a grand fortress, it now stood in decay, its towers crumbled, its windows empty voids framed by sagging arches.
Helena pulled her mare to a halt, her gaze sweeping over the ruin. “It must have been magnificent once,” she murmured.
“Aye,” Alexander agreed, his tone thoughtful. “A castle like this would’ve been a stronghold—a symbol of power. Now, it’s nothin’ but stone and memories.”
Helena tilted her head, studying the broken vaults and the jagged edges of the towers. “I wonder who lived here, what their lives were like. It’s strange to think somethin’ so grand could turn into this.”
Michael turned in his saddle, resting a hand on the pommel. “It’s a reminder, is it nae? That nothin’ lasts forever, nae even power.”
James nodded, his expression somber. “Aye, though it makes a fine meeting place. Neutral ground, far enough from both clans to keep the tension low.”
As they rode closer, the mist in the air began to turn into a gentle rain, the droplets cool against their skin.
Helena pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her thoughts drifting. “It’s strange, though,” she said after a moment. “Me faither was so adamant about continuin’ the war just weeks ago. Now, he’s agreed to a truce. It feels… sudden.”
Michael exchanged a glance with James before responding, “Maybe it’s because of ye, Me Lady. Ye’re part of Alexander’s clan now. Bein’ at war with us means bein’ at war with ye.”
Helena considered this, her brow furrowed. “I suppose that’s true. But it’s still unlike him to change his mind so quickly.”
“Maybe he’s seen reason,” Alexander said, though his tone suggested he didn’t fully believe it.
Helena sighed, her fingers tightening around the reins. “Reason’s never been me faither’s strongest suit.”
They dismounted as they reached the ruin, the horses snorting softly as the reins were tied to a sturdy tree nearby. The rain had grown steadier, a fine mist soaking their cloaks and dampening the mossy stones underfoot.
“This way,” Michael said, leading them toward a spot that still offered some semblance of shelter from the rain.
A crumbling archway opened into what might have once been a Great Hall, its ceiling long since fallen but its walls still standing firm. The space was dim and cool, the rain muted as it pattered against the stone.
Alexander stood near the entrance, his arms crossed as he scanned the area. The tension in his posture was unmistakable.
“Yer faither’s late,” he muttered, glancing at Helena. “He should’ve been here by now.”
Michael exchanged another glance with James. “Aye, he’s takin’ his time, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s his way of makin’ a statement?”
Helena, standing close enough to Alexander to feel his tension, sighed softly. “Me faither has always had a flair for the dramatics. If he’s going to come, it’s likely on purpose that he’s so late—tryin’ to make an entrance, nay doubt.”
Alexander grunted, his jaw tightening. “This isnae a stage for theatrics. It’s a bloody negotiation.”
Helena placed a hand on his arm, her touch gentle but firm. “He’ll come. Just give him a moment.”
Alexander’s piercing hazel eyes shifted to her, softening for only a second before returning to their sharp focus. He hated the unease building in his gut. Helena’s voiced doubts had gotten to him, and now a quiet voice in the back of his head was whispering that something wasn’t right.
A few minutes later, the crunch of boots on wet gravel echoed through the ruins. Alexander straightened immediately, his hand moving instinctively to the hilt of his sword. Michael and James followed suit, their eyes narrowing as figures emerged from the mist.
At the head of the group was Chester Fraser, his bulky frame unmistakable even in the rain.
His balding head glistened with raindrops, and his crooked smile stretched wide as he entered the crumbled hall.
But he wasn’t alone. Ten men followed him, their faces stern, their weapons visible at their sides.
Alexander’s blood ran cold, his stomach dropping like a stone. His body went rigid, his stance shifting instinctively into one of defense as he stepped slightly in front of Helena.
“What in the hell is this?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Helena blinked in surprise, her confusion evident. “Faither?”
Chester opened his arms wide as though to greet her, seeming unbothered by the tension radiating from the MacAllister men.
“Helena, me darlin’ girl!” he greeted warmly, his voice carrying an unsettling cheerfulness. “Apologies for the delay. Had a bit of trouble preparin’ another surprise for ye and yer husband.”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed, his grip on his sword tightening. “Surprise?” he asked through gritted teeth. “And what’s the meaning of bringin’ more men than we agreed on?”
Helena stepped out from behind Alexander, her smile hesitant but hopeful. “Faither, what’s goin’ on? Ye did say only two men each.”
Chester chuckled—a low, oily sound that grated on Alexander’s nerves. “I thought it prudent to bring a few more. Ye never ken what dangers might lurk out here in these ruins.”
Michael shifted on his feet, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. “Dangers, is it?” he drawled. “Seems like the only danger here is ye and yer men.”
“Careful now,” Chester said lightly, his tone mocking but not threatening. “I’m just a faither lookin’ out for his daughter’s safety. Surely ye can understand that, Alexander?”
Alexander didn’t answer, his sharp gaze flicking between Chester and his men. Every instinct screamed at him that this was no harmless oversight. His teeth clenched as Helena stepped closer to her father, her joy at seeing him clouding her judgment.
“I’ve missed ye, Faither,” she said softly, reaching out to hug him.
“Helena—” Alexander started, his voice sharp, but she didn’t stop.
She wrapped her arms around Chester, who returned her embrace with a too-wide grin. Alexander’s stomach twisted as he watched her, his frustration warring with his fear.
“Ye look well, girl,” Chester noted, his voice sickly sweet. “Marriage suits ye.”
“Thank ye, Faither,” Helena replied, stepping back with a warm smile. “But what’s this surprise ye mentioned?”
Alexander took a step forward, his body tense. “Enough of this. Why are ye really here, Chester? And why did ye bring so many men?”
Chester’s smile faltered for a moment, and his eyes flicked briefly to Helena before returning to Alexander. “Oh, ye’ll find out soon enough.”
Helena frowned, glancing between them. “Faither, please, just tell us—”
“Grab her,” Chester barked suddenly, dropping all pretense of warmth.
Before Helena could react, two of his men lunged forward, gripping her arms and pulling her roughly away from Alexander. She let out a startled cry, struggling against their hold.
“Helena!” Alexander roared, his sword drawn in an instant, the blade gleaming even in the dim light.
Michael and James moved in tandem, their weapons unsheathed and ready.
The air crackled with tension as Chester’s men drew their swords, forming a semi-circle around their Laird.
Chester’s smile returned, colder now, as he held up a hand to halt his men. “Easy, lads. Nay need to get carried away… yet.”
Alexander’s eyes flashed with fury as he took a step forward, his blade pointed at the man. “If ye hurt her, I’ll cut ye into pieces,” he growled, his voice low and deadly.
Chester chuckled, yanking Helena toward him. His men lifted their swords.
Helena was trembling with shock and disbelief.
Chester patted her on the shoulder as she started struggling against him. “Och, come now, Alexander. Ye dinnae think I’d harm me daughter, do ye? She’s the key to all of this. But ye? Ye’re expendable.”
“Faither, what are ye doin’? Stop this madness!” Helena hissed, her doe eyes blazing.
“Madness?” Chester repeated, feigning offense. “Nay, lass, this is strategy. Ye may nae understand it now, but ye will, eventually. It’s for the good of the clan.”
Alexander’s mind raced as he considered his next move. His focus narrowed down to a single goal: protecting Helena at all costs. His grip on his sword tightened as he locked eyes with Chester.
“Let her go,” he said coldly. “Now.”
Chester tilted his head, his smile mocking. “Or else?”
“Or else I’ll burn ye and yer whole clan to ashes.”