near Loch Ryan. While hunting, he and his companions found a wounded man following the MacDougall raid on the Bruce’s brothers. Everyone else was dead. What he dinna know was that the man he rescued and I were acquainted. I’m a healer and he needed my help.”
“I know about the attack on the loch, but how does this involve the Bruce?” John shifted in his saddle and waited for her reply.
“My uncle was arrested for offering aid to an enemy of King Edward. While being held prisoner, he overheard news of the Bruce’s return and that Aymer de Valance, the MacDougalls, McCann’s, and a few other clans who supported John Comyn were planning a surprise attack on the patriot’s camp. He bid me leave before his execution and warn Bryce . . . warn the king.” She averted her gaze in an attempt to hide her tears, the thought of Donald’s sacrifice still too fresh in her mind.
John leaned forward and clamped a meaty hand on her shoulder. “You’re a brave lass. Donald would be proud. I will arrange for you to speak to the Bruce and your friend.” He raised his arm and shouted to his men. “We are almost there. Ride hard and fast.”
Laughter, rancorous curses, and the sound of clashing swords grew louder as they wove their way through the trees and along a steep rocky cliff.
“Are you certain this is the way to the Bruce’s encampment?” Fallon blew the hair from her face and urged her horse forward.
“The camp is well hidden. No one can enter or leave without his knowledge.”
“Halt!” a man shouted from atop a ragged ledge. “State your business.”
“I’m John Kennedy, laird of Clan Kennedy, and these are my men. We come to offer our swords to the Bruce.”
“And what of the lass?”
“She has an important missive for the king and poses no threat,” John replied.
After a moment of silent deliberation, the man allowed them to pass.
Following the interrogation of three more guards along the way, they entered a clearing. John quickly dismounted and circled Fallon’s palfrey. Strong hands enveloped her waist and before she could protest, she found herself placed on the ground.
Her limbs weak from the lengthy ride, she stumbled when she took her first step. John’s arm immediately encircled her shoulders to steady her.
“Easy. It will take a few minutes to regain the feeling in your legs,” he cautioned.
“John! I’m glad to see you, my friend.” Robert the Bruce approached with his arm outstretched. After exchanging greetings, he looked at Fallon. “This is not your lovely wife, Lillian. Who is this young woman, and why does she accompany you?”
“Fallon!”
She turned. Her heart soared when she spotted Bryce, but her relief quickly sank like a stone in a loch when he stomped across the clearing, the expression on his face as dark as a thundercloud.
Chapter 8
“What in damnation are you doing here, lass?” Bryce threw his hands in the air, then turned his attention to John. “Are you daft? A man with half a brain would never bring a maiden into a camp full of randy warriors, especially when the enemy might attack at any moment.” Bryce balled his fists at his side, anger twisting his gut.
John slid his arm from around Fallon’s shoulder and stepped forward. “She was traveling alone and hell-bent on reaching you. Would you rather I’d left her to fend for herself?”
“I’d rather you dinna bring her here at all. You should have sent her home.” Standing toe-to-toe with John, Bryce didn’t bother to hide his disapproval. It took every ounce of self-control not to throttle the man for putting Fallon is such danger. But what infuriated him even more, was the familiarity with which he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Fallon stepped between the two men and placed her hand on Bryce’s chest. “Please dinna speak as if I’m not present. Laird Kennedy tried to help—”
“A respectable woman doesna travel unescorted with a band of strangers, nor does she allow
“I know about the attack on the loch, but how does this involve the Bruce?” John shifted in his saddle and waited for her reply.
“My uncle was arrested for offering aid to an enemy of King Edward. While being held prisoner, he overheard news of the Bruce’s return and that Aymer de Valance, the MacDougalls, McCann’s, and a few other clans who supported John Comyn were planning a surprise attack on the patriot’s camp. He bid me leave before his execution and warn Bryce . . . warn the king.” She averted her gaze in an attempt to hide her tears, the thought of Donald’s sacrifice still too fresh in her mind.
John leaned forward and clamped a meaty hand on her shoulder. “You’re a brave lass. Donald would be proud. I will arrange for you to speak to the Bruce and your friend.” He raised his arm and shouted to his men. “We are almost there. Ride hard and fast.”
Laughter, rancorous curses, and the sound of clashing swords grew louder as they wove their way through the trees and along a steep rocky cliff.
“Are you certain this is the way to the Bruce’s encampment?” Fallon blew the hair from her face and urged her horse forward.
“The camp is well hidden. No one can enter or leave without his knowledge.”
“Halt!” a man shouted from atop a ragged ledge. “State your business.”
“I’m John Kennedy, laird of Clan Kennedy, and these are my men. We come to offer our swords to the Bruce.”
“And what of the lass?”
“She has an important missive for the king and poses no threat,” John replied.
After a moment of silent deliberation, the man allowed them to pass.
Following the interrogation of three more guards along the way, they entered a clearing. John quickly dismounted and circled Fallon’s palfrey. Strong hands enveloped her waist and before she could protest, she found herself placed on the ground.
Her limbs weak from the lengthy ride, she stumbled when she took her first step. John’s arm immediately encircled her shoulders to steady her.
“Easy. It will take a few minutes to regain the feeling in your legs,” he cautioned.
“John! I’m glad to see you, my friend.” Robert the Bruce approached with his arm outstretched. After exchanging greetings, he looked at Fallon. “This is not your lovely wife, Lillian. Who is this young woman, and why does she accompany you?”
“Fallon!”
She turned. Her heart soared when she spotted Bryce, but her relief quickly sank like a stone in a loch when he stomped across the clearing, the expression on his face as dark as a thundercloud.
Chapter 8
“What in damnation are you doing here, lass?” Bryce threw his hands in the air, then turned his attention to John. “Are you daft? A man with half a brain would never bring a maiden into a camp full of randy warriors, especially when the enemy might attack at any moment.” Bryce balled his fists at his side, anger twisting his gut.
John slid his arm from around Fallon’s shoulder and stepped forward. “She was traveling alone and hell-bent on reaching you. Would you rather I’d left her to fend for herself?”
“I’d rather you dinna bring her here at all. You should have sent her home.” Standing toe-to-toe with John, Bryce didn’t bother to hide his disapproval. It took every ounce of self-control not to throttle the man for putting Fallon is such danger. But what infuriated him even more, was the familiarity with which he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Fallon stepped between the two men and placed her hand on Bryce’s chest. “Please dinna speak as if I’m not present. Laird Kennedy tried to help—”
“A respectable woman doesna travel unescorted with a band of strangers, nor does she allow
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