Chapter 16
The path was muddy, and the sickening squelch of the horses’ hooves made Archer’s skin crawl. Everything about this day was already a disappointment, and it was only dawn.
He kept his hood pulled up against the damp chill, though the weather hardly bothered him. His mind was far heavier than the clouds overhead.
Calum rode at his side, silent for a long stretch, until he spoke. “Never thought I’d see the day where we buried our own in one breath nae in wartime.”
Archer grunted, his jaw clenched tight. “Aye, and under such foul circumstances.”
They crested a small rise, the village roofs coming into view below, smoke curling up slowly from some of the chimneys.
Calum shot him a glance. “Ye still think it’s a coincidence?”
Archer didn’t answer immediately. He let the silence stretch until the weight of it seemed to press down on them both.
Finally, he said, “Coincidence is a word lazy men use when they cannae explain somethin’.”
Calum snorted quietly. “Who pished in yer ale?”
Archer allowed himself a grim smile. “If it were just a guard, or just the blacksmith, mayhap. But two deaths, close together, right when tensions are growing in the Highlands? Nay. Something’s festerin’.”
Calum nodded grimly. “I’ve heard some of the murmurs. Folks are uneasy. They dinnae ken who to trust.”
“Trust is earned by action, nae empty speeches.”
Calum shifted slightly in his saddle, his brow furrowed. “I dinnae ken if anyone is expectin’ ye to say anythin’ today.”
“Of course they are.”
“Ye reckon the killer is the same?” he asked.
“I dinnae ken,” Archer admitted. “Two dead bodies so close to one another, and the death at the smithy was suspicious. If it were an accident, I wouldnae think twice about it, but I cannae help but feel that there’s somethin’ festerin’ inside the castle. Ye’ve nae heard anythin’?”
“If someone is here on O’Gunn’s behalf, they’re bein’ mighty sleekit about it,” Calum admitted. “I would say they’re quieter than a church mouse—but even church mice make some noise. Either nay one has infiltrated us, or we might nae ken who has until it’s too late.”
“Then we need to be more vigilant than ever,” Archer said.
The two men slowed their horses as they reached the kirkyard. The stone kirk was small, but it was a place that brought people together, and on the occasions Archer had been inside to pray, the building had overflowed.
It overflowed again on that muddy morning.
Several small villages surrounded the castle, and while the dead men had come from separate villages, there was no difference when it came to the clan.
The men and women were all brothers and sisters.
There were too many for the kirk, so they stood outside beneath the pale grey sky, surrounding the two freshly dug holes and the covered bodies beside them.
Many of them looked toward Archer as he approached, and the feeling in his heart mirrored the looks on their faces. He didn’t know the man from the smithy well, but he mourned him. The guard, he did know reasonably well, and the man had laid down his life for him.
Before Archer dismounted, he saw an unexpected face in the crowd. Eileen stood among the mourners, looking toward the graves, not yet noticing his arrival.
Perhaps seeing her there should not have surprised him so much, but it did.
He stared at her, the sad expression on her face, the emotion encompassing her, the paleness of her skin under the clouds that threatened rain, and he felt proud that of all the women he could have chosen to fake a betrothal with, he had chosen her.
He and Calum dismounted, and council member Henry Millar approached first, holding out his hand to shake the Laird’s.
“The villagers welcome ye warmly on this cold day,” Henry said. “There’s a lot of whisperin’, even at a funeral. Are we any closer to kennin’ who killed yer guard?”
“Nay,” Archer replied. “But when I do find out who was behind it, I’ll strangle the dog meself.”
Henry nodded and let out a long breath through his nose. “They’re ready to start, now that ye’re here.”
He walked back into the crowd, while Archer and Calum stood at the back. They were both tall enough to see the minister from the back if they craned their necks.
They started with a short prayer, and everyone bowed their heads except for Archer. He looked over the congregation for a second, hoping to spot signs of nervousness or someone not bowing their head in shame for what they’d done.
If the same person had killed the man in the smithy and the guard, they’d want to blend in. Staying away from the funeral might seem suspicious.
Are ye here today, ye scoundrel? In good time, I’ll have an eye for an eye, which means ye’ll be covered in dirt like them, but ye willnae have anyone mourn ye.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” the minister started.
The people raised their heads to listen to the minister as he spoke about the two men they were about to lower into the ground.
“Whatever ye need,” Archer whispered to Calum. “Take more men to search out the venomous snake who did this. I want them found.”
“Aye,” Calum said, his head still bowed.
Where did Archer’s trust stop? Calum’s father had been with his father, and Calum had worked for Archer long enough for him to know that the man would never turn against him. But what of everyone else?
Had O’Gunn sent multiple men to infiltrate the castle? Had he gotten to someone close to Archer? A member of the council? One of his guards? Anyone could be bought if they were given enough money.
Almost anyone. Archer knew he couldn’t be bought, and he was just as sure that Calum couldn’t either.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” the minister said as he ended the short service.
Archer felt a compulsion. He could have skirted around the crowd, but he pushed his way through it. The villagers took notice, parting as he carved a path to the front, where the minister stood clutching his holy book in both hands. The minister smiled tensely as the Laird approached.
Archer bent down, grabbed a handful of dirt, and dropped it into the hole to his left, where a body now rested. He did the same with the second grave, picking up the dirt with his opposite hand. Then, he turned to face the crowd and raised both hands to show the black stains.
“Me hands are dirty, but nae dirty enough. It’s a travesty that we stand here today to mourn two of our own.
They shouldnae have died. When I find out who did this to them, I’ll get me hands dirty again, and I’ll send a message to everyone around us.
Nay matter how powerful their clan is, they cannae come into our castle and do as they please.
We have a rat infestation in our home, and I will be stampin’ it out.
That will take time, but ye have me word that when we catch the rats, me vengeance will be swift. ”
He then walked away from the crowd, not needing to be the center of attention any longer than it took for him to give the warning. He wanted whoever was behind the deaths to know what was coming next. Calum would find them, and they would be eliminated.
As he rounded the crowd, Eileen stepped out to intercept him. He took her arm and led her aside as people stepped forward to pick up dirt and sprinkle it on the graves.
“I didnae expect to see ye here.”
“I’m to be the lady of the castle,” Eileen replied. “It’s only right that I’m here.”
“Aye, it is, and I’m glad ye are,” Archer admitted. “It’s good for the people. They’ll respond well to ye bein’ here.”
“How are ye doin’?” Eileen asked.
“Och, I’m fine,” Archer replied.
“Ye lost two men, and they’re bein’ buried together this morn,” Eileen murmured. “It’s all right nae to be fine.”
“Aye, aye, I ken.” Archer nodded. He did not want to share how he was feeling, and yet he found himself speaking. “I’m angry if ye want the truth. I willnae let go of that anger until I have me hands around the culprit’s neck and I’m chokin’ the life out of him.”
He felt his heart pound in his chest.
“And neither should ye rest,” Eileen told him.
Archer furrowed his brow a little and pressed his lips together as he stared at her in the dreary morning. “I thought ye would be unnerved by such talk,” he noted.
“I dinnae like the thought of someone bein’ choked, but I was there when yer guard was found dead. There should be retribution for that.”
Archer almost smiled through his anger. “Ye’re a surprisin’ woman, Eileen Kilmartin. Ye would have made a fine Lady MacLennan if our betrothal werenae fake. Ye ken what needs to be done.”
“I only ken what justice looks like, and the people need that from ye,” Eileen offered.
“Me Laird,” Calum said, storming up to Archer.
Archer looked at the man and could see he wanted to say something. He was about to tell Calum he could speak freely before Eileen, but Eileen excused herself, sensing that there was important talk ahead, and moved toward the front to pay her respects.
“News?” Archer asked.
“Perhaps yer speech did somethin’,” Calum began. “There is a report of a man actin’ strange while ye were talkin’, and he left right after. Harold McDoon is his name.”
“I ken that name,” Archer said. “He works at the smithy, does he nae?”
“Aye, I think he does,” Calum confirmed. “I’m leavin’ with two men to track him, and I’ve sent another two men to his house.”
“Bring him straight to me when ye find him,” Archer ordered. “Alive if possible.”