Chapter 18 #4
Faye snorted. “I hope ye told them where to stick their damned alliance! After what they did to Thomas and David? Besides, we’ve all had our fill of squabbling lords.”
Ronan met her gaze. “It isnae that simple. They took Elodie prisoner.”
“They what?”
“They released Morag,” Ronan said, the words scraping his throat raw. “But they kept Elodie. They mean to force my hand. If I dinna do what they want, they’ll hurt her.”
Faye growled curses under her breath but Eamon was already reaching for the pistol at his belt.
“Then what are we waiting for? I’ll round up all our fighters. We’ll go get her back.”
“No.”
Eamon stared. “No?”
“That will only get Elodie killed. They’ve made their intentions plain. If they see us coming, they’ll shoot her before we’re halfway across the clearing.”
Eamon clenched both fists. “So we do nothing?”
“I didnae say that.”
“What then?”
Ronan glanced towards the camp, towards his people, towards everything he’d built. Everything he’d sworn to protect.
Then he turned back to the younger man. “Eamon, ye will take command. There will be little sleep for anyone tonight. Rouse them all. Leave quickly and quietly and head south towards my lands. Ye have the map I gave ye? Good. Make camp near the bridge over the Red River. I’ll meet ye there. Be ready to fight if ye have to.”
Eamon shook his head. “Faye can lead the people. I’m not leaving ye.”
Ronan fixed him with a glare. “Eamon, do as I ask.”
“I willnae leave ye!”
Ronan stepped forward until they were almost nose to nose. “I’m not asking.”
For several seconds they glared at each other.
Then quietly Faye spoke. “Eamon. The chief is right. It pains my heart to leave Elodie in the hands of those ruffians, but he’s right. The people come first. We have to make sure they’re safe.”
At that Eamon finally looked away. Faye laid a hand gently on Eamon’s arm.
“He is asking ye to do the hardest thing, because he trusts ye.”
Ronan saw the conflict in the young man’s face. Duty. Loyalty. Fear. But finally, Eamon bowed his head. “Aye, chief. I’ll see them safe. Ye have my word on that.”
Ronan laid his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I never doubted it. Now, let’s get everyone moving. We need to be out of here before the Murdochs get wind of it.”
Everyone turned to look at Ronan as he strode back into the camp. They watched him expectantly and he could see the questions on their faces, wondering where Elodie was, where Morag had been, what he was going to say. They could tell something was wrong.
“We have to leave,” he said in a voice loud enough to carry across the crowd but not loud enough that anyone in the village beyond might hear it.
“The people who drove us from the Steading are close. They want to use us. Turn us into rebels. I willnae let that happen. But we have to go now. We’ll have to travel quickly and quietly through the night. Ye all know what to do.”
A wave of frightened muttering rose, quickly stifled.
To their credit, nobody complained. Nobody questioned.
They just got moving. Blankets were rolled.
The wounded were settled carefully onto carts, along with sleepy children and the elderly.
Faye checked every injured person one final time before climbing into the wagon carrying her medicines.
Watching them, Ronan felt an unexpected swell of pride. When they’d found the Steading most of the people before him had been broken souls. Scattered survivors. But now? Everyone instinctively helped each other. No one waited to be told twice.
Eamon approached, leading Angus. “The scouts are in place. I’ve sent two ahead. They’ll watch the crossings and we’ll leave two on rear guard to make sure we aren’t followed.”
Ronan rested a hand briefly on the young man’s shoulder. “I couldnae ask for better.”
Emotion flickered across Eamon’s face. “Make sure ye come back to us, aye, chief?”
Ronan smiled faintly. “I will. Now move out before someone from the village notices something is amiss and runs to warn our enemies.”
Eamon nodded once then turned away and gave the signal for everyone to move out.
The column began moving, making a wide berth around the edge of the village to avoid alerting anyone to their sudden departure.
Ronan stood on the side of the road watching until the last wagon disappeared between the trees.
Faye looked back once and raised a hand in farewell. Then she was gone and Ronan was alone.
Almost.
Angus stood to one side of him. Bran and Skye on the other. Ronan looked at the three of them. “Well then. Ready to do something foolish?”
As if they understood every word, the dogs’ tails immediately began wagging. Angus snorted.
He laughed softly, despite everything. “Aye. I thought ye might approve.”
He checked his pistol. His dagger slid free an inch before returning to its sheath with a quiet hiss. He looked once towards the south where his people were already disappearing into the distance, then he mounted Angus and rode north. Towards the Murdochs. Towards Elodie.
“Hold on, Elodie,” he murmured. “I’m coming.”