October 4, 1378
On the road, north of Perth

It was a clear, crisp evening and the moon was bright enough to illumine the road ahead of them, for which Tomas MacIan was thankful. This was their second day of travel and with the light of the moon, they could ride for several more hours before stopping for the night. The journey from Edinburgh to Duncurra could take up to seven days this time of the year, so the longer they rode tonight, the better.

He was never happier to be on the way home to Duncurra, than when he was leaving the royal court. At twenty-six, he had attended court several times before, but he never enjoyed it. The ride home was always his favorite part. This trip, like the others, had been to deliver the taxes Clan MacIan owed the crown. However, Laird Niall MacIan, the man who had adopted Tomas over nineteen years ago, usually made the journey too. This time he hadn’t and Tomas was the official representative for Clan MacIan.

But because transporting large sums of money was always risky, they usually made the trip together with representatives from other, closely allied clans. This year Clan Carr and Clan MacLennan rode with them. Altogether, they were a band of eighteen well-trained warriors and much too great a force to be set upon by thieves. Of course, on the road home there was less fear of that, as the taxes had been paid and they didn’t carry a significant amount of gold.

Laird Carr, who by virtue of his rank was the group’s leader, slowed his horse and held up a hand signaling silence.

When their own company grew quiet, Tomas heard men yelling and the clanging of swords from somewhere ahead of them.

Laird Carr frowned. “Someone’s been set upon by highwaymen, likely at the crossroads ahead. We’ll lend our aid.” He drew his sword and kicked his horse into a gallop, motioning for them to follow.

They reached the crossroads in a minute, and sure enough, about a half of a mile down the road leading west, a carriage had been waylaid by a band of thieves. As the Highlanders rode hard towards them, Tomas surveyed the scene.

The men guarding the coach were not only outnumbered, but they had inferior skills. A nobleman, evidently one of the carriage occupants, stood fighting a bandit at one entrance, even as another of the miscreants entered the other side, pulling a woman from it. She screamed and fought until the man backhanded her hard enough to stun her. Before she recovered, he had her on the back of a horse, riding away from the scene.

Tomas became furious. Seeing one of them strike a woman was enough to confirm for him who the villains were. When they reached the carriage, he skirted the battling men and continued racing down the road after the pair.

The kidnapper, riding double on a poorer mount, was easy to catch. Perhaps realizing it was his only hope of success, the man shoved the lass off the horse, drew his sword, and turned to fight Tomas.

“Ye’ve already lost this battle, man,” said Tomas. “Throw down yer weapon.”

“I don’t think I will,” said the man, brandishing his sword, ready for a fight.

Tomas was deadly with a sword. He’d been trained by his uncle Fingal, who was one of the best swordsmen in the Highlands. Tomas would give the man one more chance. “This is yer last warning. Surrender, or die.”

“Not today. That prize is worth fighting for and I suspect I can best a Highland pup.”

It was the last mistake the highwayman ever made.

Tomas cut him down in mere moments. Then he immediately turned his attention to the woman who had moved off the road into the trees. She stood, holding on to a tree trunk for dear life. On closer inspection, Tomas realized “woman” was a bit of an exaggeration. She was young, no older than his sister Beitris who had just turned eighteen.

Tomas jumped off his mount and strode toward her. “Are ye hurt, lass?”

Her eyes were wide and frightened. She shook her head, stumbling backwards a step.

Not wishing to scare her more, he stopped several paces away from her. “Ye’ve nothing to fear. I’ll not harm ye.” He held his hand out to her. “Come then, I’ll take ye back to yer carriage. I suspect the other thieves have been dealt with.”

She looked at him warily for a moment, then took a step toward him and winced.

“Ye are hurt.”

“Aye. A little. I hurt my ankle when I hit the ground after he shoved me off the horse.”

“I’ll carry ye then.” Before she could object, he had closed the distance between them and lifted her into his arms. She was small and delicate and smelled of roses. He carried her to his great black warhorse, Duff. “Steady now, lad, we have a precious cargo.”

He lifted her onto the beast’s back and mounted behind her. “I’m going to put an arm around ye, to steady ye, lass.”

She nodded before casting a sidelong glance at the dead highwayman. She shuddered and looked away.

Tomas clicked to Duff. Better just to get her away from here.

As they approached the carriage, the scene was no better. The thieves all lay dead. Most of the men who had been guarding the carriage were injured. But none of the Highlanders traveling with Tomas had so much as a scratch. They were patching up the wounded and dragging the dead off the road.

When the nobleman saw Tomas approach, he ran towards them.

“My precious lass. Thank God, you’re safe.” He lifted her down.

“Papa,” she cried, wrapping her arms around him.

He kissed her forehead tenderly. Then, turning to look up at Tomas, said, “Thank you, sir. I am forever in your debt for saving my daughter.”

The moon illuminated the man’s face and Tomas’s blood chilled. It was Ambrose Ruthven, his adoptive mother’s uncle and the man who had nearly beaten her to death over nineteen years ago. Tomas’s back also bore the scars of Ruthven’s whip.

“Who are you, lad?” Ruthven asked.

Tomas was not about to tell Ambrose Ruthven who he really was. He answered “Sir Tomas…MacHenry.”

The other men who traveled with him gave him surprised looks. Well, it wasn’t totally untrue. Tomas’s natural father and grandfather were both named Henry. But Ruthven didn’t need to know that. Ruthven also didn’t need to know that both men had worked in the stables at Cotharach Castle their whole lives, as had Tomas until the age of seven.

“Thank you, Sir Tomas. I’m Laird Ambrose Ruthven, and this is my daughter, Lady Vida.” He turned towards the other men. “I owe you all a great debt. How is it you happened to be on the road this night?”

Laird Carr answered. “We have been at the royal court and are returning home to the Highlands. I’m Hugh Carr, Laird of Clan Carr. This is my son, Edward.”

Edward gave a small bow.

Laird Carr made no other introductions. “I believe we aren’t far from Ruthven territory. Some of my men will escort ye there while the rest of us bury the dead. Then we’ll continue on our way home.”

“Thank ye, Laird Carr, I’m in your debt. Please, allow me to offer you the hospitality of Cotharach Castle before you continue your journey.”

Tomas went rigid. Say, no. Please say no.

“That’s very kind of ye, Laird Ruthven, but ye should get your daughter home while the moon is bright. There’s still work to be done here.”

Tomas breathed a sigh of relief.

Ruthven waved away the objection. “You needn’t worry about these miscreants. I’ll send men back tomorrow with a wagon and have them deliver the bodies to the Lord Sheriff in Perth. We’ll bring their horses with us.”

Laird Carr looked as if he were about to refuse again, when the lass added her voice. “Please, Laird Carr, it is the very least we can do. Allow us to extend our hospitality…even if only for one night.”

Laird Carr sighed. “Aye. For one night, then. Thank ye.”

Damnation. Cotharach Castle was the last place on earth Tomas wanted to go, but now there was no avoiding it now. Still, in Laird Carr’s defense, Tomas wasn’t sure he could have looked into those beautiful, entreating eyes and said no.

Ruthven helped his daughter to the carriage, his men tethered the thieves’ horses, and then everyone mounted up.

Laird Carr sent several of the men-at-arms who accompanied them to ride in front of the carriage with the Ruthven men.

Then he motioned for Tomas and the remainder of their party to fall in behind the carriage and maneuvered his way close to Tomas. The MacIan guardsman who had accompanied them, his good friend Ethan MacLeod, and one of his father’s captains, Rowan MacKenzie, did the same.

Laird MacLennan, who hated going to the royal court, had sent his right hand, the captain of his guard, Quinn MacKenzie, to represent him. Quinn and Rowan were brothers. Accompanying Quinn were two MacLennan guardsmen, Kieran and Drew MacBain. The MacBains were cousins of some sort and Drew was perhaps Tomas’s closest friends. They’d trained together under Laird MacLennan. He was well acquainted with Kieran, too. His father was a MacLennan guardsman, and Kieran had trained at Duncurra.

When they had dropped back far enough so as not to be overheard, Laird Carr addressed Tomas. “I’m assuming ye lied about who ye were because ye recognized him. Is that Lady Katherine’s uncle? The one who traded her hand and money for her title?”

“Aye, Laird. And who nearly killed her with his whip. You’ve heard the story. I was the stable boy at Cotharach then. Ruthven became furious with me because I tried to tend a horse he’d ridden too hard before cleaning his saddle. He started beating me with his whip and she put herself between us to protect me, so he beat her instead.” Tomas had felt guilty about that his whole life.

Kieran frowned. “But your back is scarred too. Is he the one who did it?”

“Aye, on other occasions. He had a foul temper and was quick to use the whip.”

“By all that’s holy,” swore Rowan, “If yer da were here, Ruthven would be a dead man.”

“If yer uncle were here, he’d be a dead man,” added Quinn.

“No, he wouldn’t,” countered Laird Carr. “Because like it or not, had Ruthven not bartered Katherine and her fortune for her title, Niall wouldn’t have her as his wife. Besides, ye know for certain, he wouldn’t have wanted that lass harmed.”

Tomas couldn’t argue with Laird Carr. Truthfully, for years, Da’s fondest desire, as well as that of Uncle Fingal, and all of the guardsmen who had accompanied them on that trip, had been to extract their pound of flesh from the bastard. Nevertheless, none would ever have acted on it. Everything had worked out for the best in spite of Ambrose Ruthven.

“So,” added Laird Carr, “Since ye obviously thought it better not to identify yerself as a MacIan, we’ll keep the secret. For that matter, he doesn’t need to know MacLennans ride with us either. They are well-known as yer da’s closest allies. Until we leave Ruthven land, ye’re all my clansmen. See that everyone knows that.”

“Is there a chance ye’ll be recognized by any of the Ruthven clan members once we reach Cotharach?” asked Ethan, who’d first met Tomas when they were both fourteen.

Rowan laughed. “Not likely. He was a scrawny wee thing until he was about twelve or thirteen.”

Tomas chuckled too. “Even then I was all arms and legs and feet. It took a few years to fill out.” But he had filled out. At just under six feet, he wasn’t quite as tall as his adoptive father or uncle, but he was every bit as broad shouldered and strong. “Nay, I have to agree with Rowan, no one is likely to peg me as the stable boy who ran away years ago. I don’t expect anyone even remembers me.”

Nothing more was said about it as they rode another hour to reach Ruthven’s home.

The moon was high and, if possible, even brighter as they approached Cotharach’s village. Cotharach, a timber castle surrounded by a spiked wooden palisade, stood on the banks of Loch Abaid. Everything looked smaller than he’d remembered but little had changed.

By the time they’d ridden through the village, the gates had been opened to them.

Laird Ruthven alighted from his carriage and called orders to castle servants and stable hands.

“My men will see to your mounts, Laird Carr.”

“That’s kind of ye, Laird Ruthven, but there are so many of us, we’ll make quick work of it if we tend our horses ourselves.”

“Whatever ye wish. This is Manus, my steward,” said Ruthven, indicating an older man standing to one side. “He’ll see that ye have what ye need, then show ye into the hall. My daughter sustained a few minor injuries. I’ll just see to her and join ye shortly.”

He turned back to the carriage and assisted her out. She clung to her father’s arm and winced as he helped her hobble toward the keep.

Tomas couldn’t stand to see her in pain. “Excuse me, Laird. I know Lady Vida’s ankle is injured and it’s clearly paining her. I can carry her into the keep, if ye wish.”

Ambrose beamed at him. “Thank you, Sir Tomas, I would appreciate that.”

Tomas lifted her into his arms and looked into her eyes. To his relief, the fear he’d seen earlier was gone.

She smiled at him. “Aye, thank you, Sir Tomas.”

He followed her father up the stairs to the keep. The doors opened to an entryway from which double doors stood open, revealing the flurry of activity in the great hall. To his surprise, Tomas recognized a few of the people working there. Moyna, who had been in charge of the kitchen when he was a lad, had aged quite a bit but still seemed spry and efficient. She was calling orders, seeing that tables were set up and food laid out.

A woman about his mother’s age came rushing toward them. It was Emma, the girl who had served as Katherine’s maid, and for a moment Tomas feared she’d recognized him.

But her attention was solely on Vida. “Oh, my lady, what happened?”

“It’s a long story, Emma, but I’ll tell you everything later.”

“Bring her this way,” said Laird Ruthven, heading towards the stairs.

Tomas followed the Laird and his heart lurched when Ruthven led them to his mother’s old bedchamber. The difference in the room reminded him of just how badly she’d been treated by her uncle. No longer sparsely furnished, now it looked the way a noblewoman’s chamber should look. The threadbare hangings and counterpane had been replaced with elegant silk brocade and velvet. Plush rugs covered the floor. Thick draperies hung over the windows to keep out the chill. A huge wardrobe stood against one wall. Its door was ajar, revealing dozens of beautiful garments.

“Put her here on the bed,” said Ambrose.

Tomas placed her on it gently as Emma propped pillows behind her.

Vida laid a hand on his arm as he stepped away. “Thank you, Sir Tomas. Thank you for everything.”

He was momentarily lost in her green eyes. “Ye’re very welcome, my lady. I hope yer ankle is feeling better soon.” He gave a small bow. Then to Laird Ruthven he said, “Please excuse me, Laird. I’ll just go see to my mount now.”

“Certainly, Sir Tomas. You have my thanks as well.”

Tomas left the room and fairly ran down the stairs and out of the keep. The sooner he was away from Cotharach, the better. He didn’t like the memories.

When he reached the stable, most of the men had finished tending their beasts and were ready for a meal and a good night’s sleep. Ethan, Kieran, Drew, and Edward waited for him.

“So, what’s the whole story?” asked Drew as Tomas removed Duff’s saddle and rubbed the horse down.

Tomas glanced around to see that no Ruthven servants remained within hearing. “You know I’m adopted. Edward, you might remember when it happened.”

“I remember when Laird MacIan came back from the lowlands with Lady Katherine. She had a gray mare she called Stormy that he didn’t think was fit for the journey so he gave it to my da, who gave it to my oldest sister. But it was some time after that when we heard they’d adopted ye.”

“And, I knew the Laird had adopted ye,” said Ethan, “but I’d always assumed ye were a MacIan clansman. I didn’t know ye’d been the stable boy here.”

Kieran’s jaw dropped.

Drew laughed. “Ye’re jesting. Ye weren’t really a lowland stable boy.”

“’Tis no jest. I was. When Laird MacIan arrived here with orders from the king that Lady Katherine should marry him, she told me to take the northwest road from the village and wait there in the trees so I could go with her. She had always been kind to me and her Uncle Ambrose was a cruel bastard. She was worried about what might happen to me when she left.”

“Well, this is rich,” said Kieran. “That cruel bastard now owes his former stable boy a huge debt.”

“Perhaps, but I just want to get the hell out of here as soon as the sun’s up. I left this life behind and I want nothing more to do with it.”