Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
It wasnae an accident.
Callum stalked from his chambers, his hair damp down his back. The fire had raged through the night, and only let up when soft rain had begun to fall from the sky. Some of the men had almost lost their lives, but Callum had been thankful that there were no fatalities despite a few serious burns.
The echoes of farmers’ screaming with their families at their sides still haunted him. Great losses had been suffered when the flames had licked the sky, high and bright with their menacing tongues.
At least Eleanor is safe.
The thought resonated in his chest as he tried to force his thoughts back to the task at hand.
He had called the council meeting before the sun was barely up, and he now strode toward the chambers with a plan in mind.
He needed to know for certain who the land agent was.
If it was indeed Donald Stewart, then the matter was far larger than even he or Eleanor had considered.
Had the man somehow infiltrated his council by corrupting some of his men?
He was like a ghost in the halls of the castle.
The documents had whispered of his existence, but nobody had ever seen him.
There was something they were missing, but he was not certain what it was.
The man was elusive, almost like a phantom that could not be caught.
It struck him as strange as well that in all of the years he had been laird, he had never met a single man with that name.
He did not know what he would have done if Eleanor had not been by his side, helping him.
She had done far more in a short space of time than he could have managed on his own.
As if the thought had summoned her, Eleanor suddenly appeared at his side, jogging to keep up with his brisk pace. “Good mornin’, I am glad to see ye in one piece. Iain said that ye had retired to yer chambers last night, but I wanted to see ye for meself,” she spoke softly.
I cannae be distracted.
Callum kept up his pace. “Aye, I needed to rest after the fires were finally put out.”
Eleanor nodded as she picked up her pace in an attempt to keep up. “Aye, I heard there was a lot of damage to the surrounding lands. And I daenae suppose that the culprit came forward?” Her voice held a note of hopefulness.
Shaking his head, Callum stopped walking and turned to her. “Nay, and I want ye to be careful. It is as ye said last night, the person responsible could have used the fire as a distraction to gain entry into the castle. Ye should remain close to either meself or Iain.”
“Then let me come with ye,” she suddenly blurted out.
Stopping, Callum searched her face and saw the panic building in her eyes.
She feels safe when she is with me.
“Aye, but ye must promise to stay out of the conversations. Ye can listen and watch the men as closely as ye can, but ye are to observe, and observe alone,” he said sternly. “Ye can sneak in the back and stay where I can keep an eye on ye.”
Nodding her head, Eleanor fell back into step beside him as he continued on his path toward the council chambers. “I am nae a bairn, but if keepin’ an eye on me will allow me into the chambers, then so it shall be,” she said determinedly.
Gods help me, but I have to protect her.
Callum shook his head, admiring the gumption that she always seemed to bring to the table.
It did not seem to matter what the situation at hand was; she always spoke her mind and had to have the last word.
He almost smirked to himself before stopping in front of the door and lifting a finger to his lips.
“Remember, ye are to listen and nae speak.”
She nodded again, bristling slightly as she pursed her lips.
Callum strode into the council chambers with Eleanor following close behind until she slipped into the shadows of a corner that faced his chair.
Every head turned to look at Callum as a deathly silence fell over the room. Everyone had already gathered with Bran peacefully sleeping beside his chair.
Taking up his place at the head of the table beside Iain, Callum looked around the room.
All of the faces seemed tired and weary, and he found himself wondering who the man was who had confronted Eleanor with the truth.
Any one of these men could have slipped the information, yet it was just as likely that one of them had started the fire.
The thought sent a chill down his spine. “It was a long and hard evenin’ for us all last night,” he began.
A susurration of agreement filtered around the room as men nodded at one another. Several of them had lost livestock alongside some of their property and farmlands. The only saving grace that Callum could think of was that none of their family members had been lost.
Callum cleared his throat to gain their attention again after the whispers died down.
“There were some devastatin’ losses, but men have placed themselves securely around the borders.
We shall sleep kennin’ that the incident shall nae occur again.
Now, have we found anythin’ of interest in the archives?
” he turned toward the treasurer, who seemed to be paling by the second.
Coming to his feet with a stack of documents in his hands, the treasurer coughed, placing his fist against his lips. His balding head reflected the flickering light of the candles, and Callum could not help but think of how frail he looked with his thin frame and gangly limbs.
Was the man who betrayed him young or old? There were several council members that he could think of who were far more capable of accepting a bribe and starting fires.
“We have, me Laird. Some of the documents were difficult to decipher, but the name of the land agent who worked with the documents when ye were missin’ was Donald Stewart. We have nae used him before, but it seems as if the duties were handed over right before ye went missin’.”
“We always used Andrew Whitacker and his father.” Callum stole a glance in Eleanor’s direction, knowing that she would react.
The treasurer nodded, clearing his throat again as she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
The room fell deathly silent as Callum looked to Eleanor at the other end of the room.
Her face was as pale as a ghost when she met his gaze.
Had they not thought all along that Donald Stewart was behind the matter from the start?
Had she not mentioned to him that her brother had letters confirming correspondence with the man?
She nodded discreetly to him, slipping from the chambers as the rest of the men continued to discuss the matter at hand. It did not bode well for any of them that her brother was still missing. Donald Stewart was a dangerous man, and it seemed as if he would have stopped at nothing to get his way.
Some of the councilmen tapped their fingers impatiently on the table as others discussed what needed to be done.
“We need to find the man!” One older, very angry man named Angus slammed his fist on the table.
“And risk our own lives?” another council member with bright red hair retorted. “We should spend our time fortifyin’ the castle instead of chasin’ a man who is more than likely long gone by now!”
Callum exchanged a look with Iain, who raised his brows.
Any one of the men arguing could have been the one who had betrayed him, but Callum still was not sure where to start.
He had hoped that closer inspection would give him a clue, but it was becoming increasingly clear to him that the options were vast and numerous.
It could be all of them.
He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin.
Eleanor had only been gone for a few minutes when the sound of a piercing scream sliced through the air.
Bran jumped to his feet and began to snarl, but Callum was already halfway out the door.
Eleanor could not believe what she had heard as she left the council chambers and picked her way back to her own. Her brother’s letters were all that she needed as proof that Donald Stewart was the one who had been behind all of the land theft and deaths.
So much death…
A shiver ran down her spine as she thought of all the deeds she had seen where men had lost their lives. Exactly who was this man, and how had he been able to go undetected for so long? Her mind was a whirl of questions that she could not answer.
Gasping, she stepped to the side of the hall and stopped as a shadow suddenly crossed her path. “Marion?” she called out loud.
Nothing but silence met her ears.
I have to get out of here.
Panic gripped her chest, making her pulse skitter with fear.
She was about to turn back and fetch Callum when the shadow suddenly stepped out into the hallway and began to walk toward her.
The person’s face was hidden by a dark cloak, and the height and gait were all different from anyone that she knew.
He closed the distance between them with impressive speed, and Eleanor only thought to scream when the flash of steel drew her attention to his hand.
“Nay!” her voice rang out through the hall, sharp and crisp as she began to back away, raising her arms in defense. It was far too late for her to run, and certainly not a good idea for her to turn her back on whoever it was.
The sound of her own heart racing filled the air as her back connected with the wall behind her. The man was practically on top of her as he raised the dagger above his head, brandishing it like a sword as he brought it down in one fell swoop.
Eleanor shut her eyes, fearing that her life was over as she crossed her arms over her face.
This is it. This is the end.
A loud snarl filled the air as the man suddenly cried out and dropped the dagger to the floor. The loud metallic clank gave her hope as Eleanor suddenly veered away from him and ducked under his arm, running toward Callum, who was quickly coming up from behind.
“Are ye hurt?” he asked as he quickly gripped her upper arms and, in one fluid motion, placed her behind him.
“Nay, but he has a knife!” She quickly pointed toward the glinting piece of steel on the ground beside the man.
Bran had pinned him down and held one arm in his jaw, shaking his head from side to side as his large paws pinned the man in place.
“Get off me, ye beast!” the man snarled, and Eleanor realized that she did not recognize his voice at all.
Jumping back just in time, Bran managed to evade the man’s arms as he reached for the knife.
Callum sprang into action, closing the distance between him and the assailant with lightning speed. But it was too late.
The man moved back his cloak, held the dagger to his throat, and pulled the blade across his neck in one motion.
Gasping, Eleanor turned away from the scene as crimson blood spurted across his face. The sharp, metallic scent of wet iron filled the air.
“Dobber!” Callum snarled from somewhere behind her.
I cannae look. I cannae look.
Eleanor repeated over and over again until Callum came to her side and wrapped his strong arms around her. “It is over now, lass.” His words were soothing, but Eleanor could not help but tremble from the near-death experience.
The man had had a knife, a knife that he had intended to end her life with.
She turned in his arms, feeling the pull to run into his protection as she buried her face in his chest.
Pushing her back gently, Callum lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “Are ye hurt, lass?”
She quickly shook her head, but winced when a sharp pain suddenly shot through her arm. Looking down, she noticed the rip in her dress and the small trickle of blood that was darkening the fabric.
“Ye used yer arms for protection,” Callum said gently, lifting her arm in his hand.
“Aye, it was stupid of me, I ken.” She winced again when he turned her arm, examining the wound.
His face remained stoic for a moment before he spoke again.
“Nay, ye were brave. It was smart for ye to use yer arm; it could have been yer face or yer chest.” His voice was soothing despite the fear pulsing through her veins.
“Go with Bran to yer chambers, I will send for Marion to come and see to yer wounds,” he said gently before stepping away from her.
Eleanor wanted to protest, but found him turning away from her.
“The council and I have to see to the body. I daenae ken the man, but perhaps one of them will.” He strode toward the man just as the rest of the council members began to file into the corridor one at a time.
What had taken them all so long?
Eleanor stepped aside, watching them all very closely as they headed toward the body.
Iain was last as he came up beside her, glancing down at her arm. “I heard the commotion from the chambers.” He glanced at the body on the floor. “Aye, ye were very lucky indeed.” He gulped back a breath as his face paled slightly.
Finding her words again, Eleanor nodded. “Aye, I wouldnae have been if Bran and Callum had nae shown up when they did.”
Upon hearing his name, Bran came striding toward her. The wiry hair on his back still stood on end as he sniffed Iain and settled at her feet, quiet, sure, and obedient as if he had heard his master’s request.
Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief. “I had better go to me chambers and send for Marion.”
Iain’s face changed a little at the mention of the maid’s name, but stiffened again when some of the guards came to drag the body away. Nobody seemed to recognise the man, and the realisation sent another shiver of fear down her spine.
He snuck into the castle when nobody was lookin’.
She turned away from the gruesome scene, heading toward her own chambers with Bran at her side.
It did not take very long for words to spread, and by the time Eleanor reached her chambers, Marion was already there, her face pale. “Mistress, are ye hurt?” she asked softly with tears in her eyes.
Reaching out, Eleanor touched her cheek. “It could have been worse, but I shall need some bandages and warm water. Perhaps ye could fetch some herbs from the castle healer.”
Marion quickly blinked back her tears. “Aye, Mistress, I shall fetch it all at once.” She turned away, and Eleanor was once again left alone in the hallway with Callum’s dog at her side.
Opening the door to her chambers, Eleanor let Bran inside first. Only when he had sniffed around and gone to sit at the edge of her bed did she finally step inside.
Her legs felt as if they would crumble beneath her as she placed her back against the door and slid to the ground, finally giving in to the shock as tears flooded her cheeks.
It was so close.
She fought for breath, not knowing how she would ever trust anyone ever again.