Chapter 13 #2
Keegan eyed her, keeping his body taut, not even so much as a hair of unwanted movement.
She envied that about him. The laird was so much the expert at keeping himself level and unreadable.
While her joviality played that role at home, it wasn’t working for her now because she was not simply annoyed or fed up with her life.
Willow was panicking about the very real possibility that someone might die on that field in three days’ time, and there were too many that she cared about who could succumb to that fate.
She also knew that she couldn’t ask Keegan to avoid battle and leave himself defenseless if he were attacked, but that was what she was trying to prevent.
“Aye, that will suffice.” Willow nodded, sucking in a breath that had been on the edge for too long. “And I ask that as I tell ye this, ye keep in yer head that it is Magnus who directs the warriors. Just like yerself, he is the one responsible for the clan’s actions.”
Keegan nodded, his face a mask of stoicism and steely composure. “Of course. I willnae seek out a warrior to assault so long as none look to harm me. Now, go on before we’re called for dinner.”
It was still morning, so Willow took Keegan’s meaning to heart, and she sighed, nearly rolling her eyes. The man’s sarcasm was sharp, and as much as it likely shouldn’t, it actually eased some of her nerves. She cleared her throat, readying herself to begin.
“I understand. I only worry for me people as I’m sure ye ken well enough yerself by now.”
He nodded. “Aye. I am well aware of yer keen desire to protect yer men and yer clan. Were ye part of Clan Brahanne, it would be impressive.”
She tried not to allow her mind to consider that possibility.
Willow had already dreamed of no longer being forced to exist under the rule of her brother when she’d been told of her engagement; she couldn’t let herself give in to that fantasy now—especially as the fate of her wedding still hung in the balance.
“Me brother,” Willow began, each word like pulling a tooth from her mouth for how much it pained her, going against Magnus’s direct orders as she was, “is likely to use one or more of his preferred tactics when he meets ye at the field ye’ve chosen for the exchange.
I have listened to him much over the years, and he doesnae ken how much I have learned. ”
“Oh?” Keegan cocked a brow, and she leaned into the clear curiosity on his face for comfort. “And what is that?”
“Magnus doesnae see any situation as anythin' but an opportunity. He wishes to lead and win and seize control of every moment. As such, he’ll set an ambush for yer men.”
Keegan folded his arms over his chest, raising his brows as if he had heard this already. “I have prepared the men for such an event. I am nae an idjit, Lady Willow. I ken that yer brother will look for an openin' to deal me a blow.”
Sighing, Willow returned the laird’s quintessential nod, shifting the weight back and forth between her feet. “I imagined as such as well. Still, ye may nae be familiar with his archers nor his ground men.”
That got Keegan’s attention, and he cast her an expression of worried surprise. “Archers? That seems like it would be—”
“I assure you. They are his favorite. He will have them ride out the night before to dig pits in the softest ground on any nearby hill or elevation. They will create themselves cover that they will use to launch volley after volley into yer line of men.”
“Lass,” Keegan shook his head, and it didn’t escape Willow’s notice that she was now ‘lass,’ “that would be a terrible move. Ye will be present within our line. Archers can be highly skilled, but he’d risk harmin' ye if he allowed his men to send out volleys.”
This was the moment Willow had been waiting for or, more aptly, had been dreading.
“He willnae care. If it will harm yer men, yerself, and potentially win him a victory, Magnus will give the command without so much as a second thought. Moreover, he will likely have the men bury themselves in the ground as well, right at the heart of the meet up location. Ye willnae see them, and they will spring up to attack.”
Keegan’s lips parted just a hair as the shock hit him. He quickly shook it off, and Willow could tell that he refused to believe such a thing, even about his sworn enemy.
“Ground men,” he spoke as if now putting the words’ meaning into his mind and locking it away for later. “Again, lass, to spring up and attack could verra likely cause ye to be injured. Magnus has a weddin' set for ye. Would he nae wish for that to be carried out?”
“I cannae say. I only ken that the man doesnae think of me in the same manner as ye do of yer own sister. He has despised me sister and me since our birth.”
“Willow,” she nearly flinched at the sound of her name from Keegan’s lips, “if ye think to dissuade me from the exchange by spoutin' lies about yer brother’s lack of concern for ye, it willnae work.”
She stared directly into the laird’s powerfully dark eyes, allowing every bit of herself to shine through her own stare. If her words could not convince him, perhaps they might.
“Look me in the eyes, Keegan, and tell me if ye still believe I am nae speaking in earnest.”
He did. He looked at her, and Willow could feel his stare penetrate her very soul. Men like this, Lairds and war chiefs and even the few British soldiers she’d seen, they possessed the skill to read a person within moments, and again, Willow found herself jealous.
Please, Keegan. Just accept the bloody truth, ye cunning bastard.
Keegan stilled, and there was something about his expression that changed, shifted.
He wasn’t looking at her as if she were tricking him.
There was no suspicion there. Wait, no. That wasn’t right.
He was interested in something that Willow might not be saying, but it wasn’t about her brother and his lack of care.
He was studying her for something else.
“Why have ye told me this? I ken that ye wish to keep the exchange moving smoothly for yer own sake, but it cannae only be that and the fate of yer men.”
And there it was, the question from the laird that she knew to expect and still didn’t quite have a complete answer for. Willow’s stomach clamped down as the truth bubbled up inside her. She would not be addressing it. It was a flute, a silly matter of circumstance.
She needed only to convince the man that she spoke honestly about the ambush and get him to adjust his plans. That was all. That was everything there was to this. There was no secret agenda, and she certainly wasn’t hiding her reason for telling him about this.
Willow swallowed, the apprehension and nervousness billowing up inside her like a rising volcano.
Come now, Willow. Hold it together. There isn’t anything else going on here.
But her eyes fell to Keegan’s mouth, and she worried immediately that her fate that evening had already been sealed.