Chapter 28 #2
Finn took the parchment, his eyes immediately locking onto the wax seal bearing the distinct MacSween crest. His stomach tightened into a painful knot, knowing it was too soon for such correspondence.
Claire could not have possibly reached the MacSween lands yet, unless something had gone terribly wrong.
He broke the thick red wax with a brutal flick of his thumb.
Douglas appeared beside him without a single word, sensing the sudden, oppressive shift in the air.
The busy courtyard gradually fell completely silent around them, and even the young stable lads stopped what they were doing to watch their Laird.
Finn unfolded the parchment, his green eyes moving rapidly across the first lines.
Lord MacRae, word has reached our borders regarding sudden unrest and armed raiding parties gathering near the eastern crossing.
Finn let out a heavy breath, his tense shoulders loosening just a fraction as he read the cautious opening line of the dispatch.
Given the dangerous instability of the rival clans in that region, I do not believe it is safe for Lady Claire to travel the main roads at this time.
Finn felt a cold, sharp knot begin to form in the absolute center of his chest.
I strongly advise keeping her safely within the walls of Rosewood Castle. We will not send our vanguard to meet her carriage until we receive your assurance that the valley is completely secure.
For three long, agonizing seconds, the entire world ceased to exist. There was absolutely no sound, no movement, and nothing but a ringing emptiness in his ears.
Nay.
Douglas frowned deeply at the horrifying pallor of his friend's face. "Finn?" Douglas prompted cautiously.
Finn did not answer him, his wide eyes remaining utterly fixed on the damning page as his breathing became unnaturally, terrifyingly still.
"Finn," Douglas pressed, stepping closer.
Slowly, and with a terrifying, mechanical precision, Finn lowered the letter to his side.
His face had emptied of every single trace of human emotion, leaving behind a cold, blank mask of stone.
Douglas had seen that horrific expression only once before in his entire life, on the bloody night Finn's father had died in the mud.
"What happened?" Douglas demanded, his voice thick with rising dread.
Finn looked right past him, focusing neither on Douglas nor on the trembling messenger, but rather staring at something only he could see in the distance.
"They never reached her," Finn stated, his voice completely dead.
"What?" Douglas breathed.
"Those were nae MacSween's men," Finn clarified, the horrifying reality settling over the courtyard like a shroud.
A stunned silence held for one second, and then absolutely everything happened at once.
Douglas snatched the damning letter straight from Finn's hand to read it himself, while the exhausted messenger looked between the two towering Highlanders in utter confusion.
The surrounding guards exchanged uneasy glances, and Angus stepped forward from the barracks.
"Me Laird?" Angus called out uncertainly.
Finn was already moving across the cobblestones with lethal purpose. "Douglas," Finn barked.
"Aye," his lieutenant answered instantly.
"Close every single gate," Finn commanded without looking back.
Douglas did not hesitate for a fraction of a second. "Ye heard the Laird!" Douglas bellowed to the men.
The frozen courtyard instantly exploded into frantic, violent motion.
"Horns!" Douglas roared up at the battlements. "Sound the alarm!"
The first deep, mournful blast of the war horn echoed across Rosewood Castle, answered by others from the walls.
Stable hands and guards rushed to arm themselves amid chaos.
Mrs. Campbell appeared, alarmed, asking what had happened, but no one responded.
Finn calmly headed to the armory, his pace measured, more frightening than a sprint in rage, for it signaled a final decision.
Inside, Finn grabbed his broadsword and weapons with practiced ease, while Douglas rushed in moments later.
"We have twenty riders ready to march," Douglas reported breathlessly.
"I want forty," Finn countered coldly.
"They will be saddled within minutes," Douglas promised without argument.
Finn nodded once, his eyes locked on the steel of his gauntlets. "Seal every pass leaving this glen," Finn ordered.
"It will be done," Douglas swore.
"Nae one enters this valley," Finn added softly, his tone laced with absolute venom. "And nae one leaves."
Douglas hesitated by the door, a worried frown creasing his brow. "Me Laird, if they have already crossed over..."
"They havenae," Finn interrupted him smoothly.
The absolute, chilling certainty in Finn's voice stopped his lieutenant from arguing further. "How can ye know that?" Douglas asked, genuinely confused.
Finn forcefully fastened the final leather strap across his broad chest, his green eyes burning with a dark intelligence.
"Because they wanted me to know," Finn explained softly, his terrifying words hanging heavy in the stillness of the armory.
"They intentionally waited until she was completely beyond me protection so they could draw me out. "
Finn turned and looked out toward the open doorway, staring out at the very road Claire had traveled down only hours before.
This abduction had never been a simple matter of ransom, nor had it been a random crime of opportunity; someone had meticulously planned this ambush, and someone had known exactly where she would be.
She truly believed I sent her somewhere safe, and I failed her.
His chest filled with a suffocating guilt.
"They have taken a woman who was placed under me personal protection," Finn announced.
Not a single man moved or breathed as the weight of his words settled over them.
"These cowards believe that distance will somehow save them from me wrath," Finn continued, slowly drawing his massive broadsword from its scabbard. The flawless steel caught the last, bloody light of the dying sun as he held it aloft. "They are completely wrong."
His fierce green eyes turned purposefully toward the south, locking onto the muddy road that led straight toward Claire. His voice dropped into a low, lethal promise, quiet enough that every warrior in the yard had to lean forward and strain to hear it.
"They are about to learn exactly why this glen calls me the Devil of the North."