Page 94 of Desire of a Highlander

“I’m afraid that willnae be possible. His lordship doesnae wish to speak to ye.”

“What? He willnae even talk to me?”

“No, my lord. He orders ye and yer army to turn around and leave.”

“My army?” Ronan burst out. “Do they look like an army to ye? Damn it, William, look at them! They are farmers and craftspeople. We’ve been hunted all the way here. We havenae come looking for trouble, we’ve come for sanctuary!”

The captain’s expression tightened a little. “Nevertheless, my orders remain the same.”

Ronan growled deep in his chest then raised his chin to look past William again.

“Bryce!” he bellowed, his voice ringing across the space between them. “Will ye not even speak to me?”

The mounted men around Bryce shifted uneasily but the man himself remained still.

“Bryce!”

This time his brother began to turn his horse and for one brief moment Ronan thought he was coming to meet him. Instead, Bryce wheeled away and rode slowly towards the trees beyond the bridge. He didn’t even look back.

Ronan stared after him.

The captain cleared his throat. “My lord, ye and yer people are to vacate this area. If any of ye attempt to cross the bridge—” He hesitated. “It will be treated as an act of aggression and dealt with as such.”

Ronan’s stomach clenched in fury. An act of aggression? From refugees and dispossessed farmers? Was this some kind of joke? His hands curled into fists, his jaw clenching in furious frustration.

He closed his eyes briefly. Then nodded once. “I understand.” They were the hardest words he’d ever had to say.

He turned without another word and walked back across the bridge. Nobody spoke but they all watched him expectantly. Waiting. Hoping. They wouldn’t have heard what transpired on the bridge but all of them would have heard him shouting at Bryce and Bryce simply turning away.

“They willnae let us cross,” he announced.

Murmurs spread through the crowd.

“But we’re being followed by the Murdochs,” Faye said. “They’ll be here soon!”

Elodie swallowed. “What do we do?”

He glanced towards the lowering sun then towards the hills behind them. “We make camp.”

Eamon blinked. “Here?”

“Aye.”

“But the Murdochs—”

“I know.” He took a slow breath. “Post watches. Dig what defences we can. His gaze swept over the gathered people. “We prepare.”

Elodie took a breath and then nodded. “Right,” she said. “You heard him. Let’s get busy people.”

With the ease of somebody who’d been doing such things all her life, Elodie took charge. She assigned tasks and got everyone moving. Ronan could have kissed her. He knew she was keeping them busy to keep them from panicking and he was grateful for that. He wasn’t sure he could have handled any more questions, any more expectant stares.

Oh, God in Heaven, what had he done? He’d led his people here, told them they would be safe. But instead here they were, trapped between two hostile forces. Black despair washed through him and for a second he couldn’t even think. He pushed it away with an effort. No. There had to be a way.

But he would be damned if he could think of it.

Everyone got to work making camp and setting up defences as best they could. Nobody laughed. Nobody sang. The camp became a place of whispered voices and nervous glances towards the northern road. Ronan slipped away and went to check on Angus.

“I’ve made a right mess of it, havenae I?” he said to the horse.