Page 81 of The Highlander's Chosen Wife
“Laird,” Killian said, giving a curt nod, “I’ve just returned from the eastern ridge.”
Declan leaned back, narrowing his eyes. “Tell me what ye found?”
Killian shook his head, his expression grim. “We found the bandits’ camp, but it was deserted. Fire cold, tracks covered by fresh snow. They’d been gone a day, maybe two.”
Declan swore under his breath and pushed to his feet, pacing before the fire.
“So, they’ve slipped through our fingers again.”
“Aye,” Killian replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “But they’re close, I can feel it. They left in haste, food half-eaten, supplies scattered. They ken we’re huntin’ them, I believe.”
Declan stopped pacing and turned toward him. “That means they’ll strike again soon if they left without all their supplies. Desperation makes men reckless.”
Killian nodded. “That’s what worries me. There’s talk in the villages of livestock missin’ and smoke seen in the hills. If they grow bolder, they might take to raidin’ the outposts.”
Declan’s expression hardened. “Over me dead body.”
He moved to the table where a large map was spread, its corners weighted with tankards.
“Show me where ye found the camp.”
Killian stepped closer, pointing to a mark near the forested ridge. “Here. Near the glen by the burn.”
“That’s near the old trade road,” Declan said, tapping the map. “If they mean to move supplies, that’s the route they’ll take. We can intercept them before they reach the river crossing.”
Killian frowned. “That road’s exposed, Laird. No cover for miles.”
“Aye,” Declan said, his tone sharp. “That’s why they’ll nae expect us there.”
Killian crossed his arms, watching him carefully. “Ye plan to send a patrol?”
“Nae,” Declan said, his jaw set. “Scouts to wait and watch. I'm done chasing them. I mean to ken who they are.”
“Let me take the men,” Killian said. “We willnae go under McCallum banners, just lowly merchants.”
Declan’s gaze cut toward him, dark and unyielding. “I willnae sit idle while thieves plunder me lands, Killian. I swore an oath to protect this clan. I should be the one out there.”
“Aye, and ye’ve done it well,” Killian said firmly. “But yer duty’s to lead, nae to die in some frozen ditch. If ye fall, who’ll guide us then? Isabelle?”
Declan froze, the mention of her name hitting him like a blow. “Watch yer tongue,” he warned though his voice lacked true venom.
Killian sighed, shaking his head. “Ye ken I speak truth. Ye’ve enough on yer mind without runnin’ into blades. Let me take ten men and ride at dawn. I’ll wait and watch, nothin’ more.”
Declan turned back to the map, gripping the edge until his knuckles whitened. “I’m tired of these ghosts.”
“Then let us hunt them proper,” Killian urged. “Set traps along the valley road, cut off their escape. If we spread word through the villages, they’ll have nowhere to run.”
Declan exhaled slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Aye… that might do. We’ll draw them out instead of chasin’ their shadows… but we may never ken who sent them in the first place. Nay, we scout only.”
Killian’s stern face softened a little. “There’s the man I ken. Strategy, nae fury. It suits ye better.”
Declan gave a dry chuckle. “Ye always did have a tongue too bold for yer own good.”
Killian grinned. “Aye, but it’s kept ye alive more than once if memory serves.”
The fire crackled between them, the heat rising as the silence settled again. Declan moved back to his chair, running a hand over his face.
“If they’re movin’ camp this often, someone’s warnin’ them. I want every trader, shepherd, and stablehand questioned. Someone’s feedin’ them word of our movements.”
