Amanda Scott (21 page)

It irked him to linger behind the vanguard, especially since Hugo and the
Raven
had moved ahead, but he had agreed to maintain the role he played when Hugo had reminded him that, because of it, Waldron tended always to underestimate him, which might provide an advantage in any future confrontation between them.

As they turned west, eight boats preceded his, drawing swiftly together. And not before time, he decided as they rounded the headland. He watched the sea, rougher now as it opened to the south, but shouts drew his attention to two ships moving toward them from the headland of Ardnamurchan to the north. Even as he noted the two, two more hove into view from the south and two more from behind him, near Oronsay. Waldron had hoped to confine them in a circle of his warriors.

As the ships flying banners of the Lord of the Isles continued to draw together, all six of the enemy ships aimed for the
Raven
, which had drawn a little away from the others. He realized then that whoever commanded the enemy had orders to take his boat and that the enemy commander assumed he was aboard her. He saw, too, that Hugo stood in plain view on the stern-post, holding on to the rope that led from the post to the mast. From a distance, he knew, he and Hugo looked much alike.

Shouting followed, and bowmen in the lead boats shot a rain of arrows at their attackers, who returned fire. Michael’s boat increased pace to join the others, and he saw that they were closing quickly. Oars flew upward as one larger galley—Hector’s, he thought—drew perilously near the largest of Waldron’s boats.

Grappling hooks flew as men rapidly lashed the boats together. Two others from their flotilla closed in and began lashing, too, no easy task on waves from the open sea that rolled the ships about and broke against their sides.

The others in the flotilla joined swiftly in a wheel formation, stem-posts out, stern in, creating a huge defensive raft with the
Raven
now in the center. More men took up bows and began shooting a rain of arrows at the enemy boats. Other men boarded two of the enemy boats before Michael’s galley was lashed to the rest, and he saw one of Waldron’s ships already speeding away.

Stones followed the arrows, and someone from the flotilla threw one so hard that the man it hit toppled backward into the sea. His mates managed to grab him and haul him back aboard, but he was dead or unconscious, for he did not move.

Michael’s weapons were out, and the moment his boat was close enough to let him leap to the next, he hurled himself into the fray.

Chapter 13

I
sobel watched the battle in horror. It had erupted so quickly and had gone from swarming boats to a raft of moving bodies and flashing swords so swiftly that one moment she had seen the galley that carried Michael and the next it had merged with the others so that she could not tell which one it was. She could identify only the
Raven
in the center and Lachlan’s ship, because their banners differed from all the others. She realized that she was standing on her bench, gripping the gunwale so tightly that her knuckles were white, but she had no memory of jumping up there.

All the women were on their feet, watching, all showing varying degrees of the tension Isobel felt. Despite Michael’s continued insistence that he was a man of peace, she knew that he was in the thick of the fighting. Men seemed to jump right over one another and from ship to ship as they fought. She saw spears flying and swords flashing, heard battle cries and screams of the wounded. Already, though, the noise had lessened. The Lord of the Isles’ boats were larger than their attackers, with higher sides, and they numbered more than half again as many.

Glancing toward the three galleys that had lingered behind to guard the women’s boats, she knew from the expressions of the men aboard them that they felt left out, and she could sympathize with their frustration. Although she had no wish to fight, she wished fervently that she were closer and could see better. As it was, the captain of their boat ordered his men to back water, to keep the galley in place and ready to depart at the least hint that the tide of battle might turn. Isobel did not fear that fate, however, only that Michael might suffer injury or worse.

Cristina, too, seemed worried, but Mairi did not, and if Isobel could not make herself feel as relaxed as Mairi looked, the older woman’s confidence did ease her anxiety. Observing that one of the attacking ships had managed to slip away and was heading south at speed, she wanted to shout at the other boats to catch it. She looked to her own captain, but although he watched the departing boat narrowly and with visible annoyance, he gave no indication of wanting to follow.

Minutes later, the battle was over, and although another of the enemy boats had disengaged by then, evidently Hector and Lachlan were content to let it depart, too. Thus, two of the six had escaped, but four had not.

“Do you see Hector or Sir Michael?” Cristina asked. “I cannot see them.”

“Hector’s boat is just drawing up to Lachlan’s now,” Mairi said. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they are all safe.”

Isobel had no idea where Michael was. “I don’t know how you can tell them apart,” she told Mairi. “They all look alike to me, save the admiral’s and the
Raven
.”

Mairi just smiled, but she kept watching, and Isobel suspected only then that she was not as confident as she had wanted them all to believe.

She hoped they had captured the wicked Waldron, but she could not be easy again until she knew that everyone she cared about was safe.

They had boarded the four remaining enemy boats and quickly taken control of them, and Michael was as certain as he could be, both from the hasty retreat of two that had fled when they saw how greatly the flotilla outmatched them, and from the rapid surrender of the others, that Waldron had not commanded them. He strongly suspected that at least the two fleeing galleys belonged to the Green Abbot of Iona, but he wondered where Waldron might have come by the others.

When Lachlan found him moments later and told him they would give the men who had yielded the usual opportunity to swear fealty to the Lord of the Isles, he said, “With respect, my lord, I’d counsel against that. ’Twould achieve naught but to admit Waldron’s spies to your midst. Indeed, I had wondered why he would attack a force so much larger than his, but mayhap his goal was just that, to add his men to ours, knowing that victors nearly always make such offers to the losers.”

“’Tis a good point you make,” Lachlan said. “Hereabouts, one can trust the word of even an enemy if he swears fealty to his grace, but your cousin’s men apparently practice different customs.”

“They do, sir,” Michael said. “They give loyalty to no one but Waldron.”

Lachlan nodded. “Then we will inform his grace accordingly.”

He spoke quietly to one of his men, shouted to the captain of another boat to go on ahead of them at speed to Glenelg to warn Macleod of their coming, and then directed his helmsman to ease away. When the ships were all unlashed, they turned toward the Ardnamurchan shore, where crews from the captured vessels, having to a man sworn full faith and loyalty to MacDonald of the Isles, were set ashore with instructions that if they made their way to Ardtornish, they could swear fealty to his grace in person and join his service.

“Meantime,” Lachlan said to them, “we will unburden you of your galleys and weapons, so that you need no longer trouble yourselves with them. ’Tis small penalty for attacking ships belonging to MacDonald of the Isles.”

Then, assigning crews to the extra boats with men from all the others, they set off again, now a flotilla of nineteen. As they left Ardnamurchan behind, Michael wondered if Lachlan had remembered that he’d intended to warn MacDonald about Waldron’s men. Recalling the many signals earlier to the admiral’s ship from the north coast of the Sound, and the man to whom Lachlan had spoken, he smiled, certain that the admiral had everything well in hand.

Isobel was astonished that the men, despite having fought a battle, seemed refreshed rather than exhausted and were able to continue their journey at much the same pace as they had set through the Sound of Mull. She had seen Michael, had even waved to him, but oddly, knowing he was safe, instead of relieving her seemed to annoy her. He looked as if he had been having fun, not as if he had been in danger of losing his life. Clearly, the battle had been a tame one.

They stopped to take a midday meal but did not beach the vessels, lashing them together again instead, so the oarsmen could rest while others kept watch. They had cold meat, bread, and ale that they had brought with them for the purpose.

She would have liked to do as many of the men were doing, and jump from one boat to another, if only to ask Michael if, now that the battle was over, she could join him in his boat for a while, where it would be more interesting.

But when she stood and started to step onto her bench again, Cristina said sharply, “Don’t you dare, Isobel. You will remain here with us like the lady you are and not go traipsing along from boat to boat like a hoyden.”

Isobel lifted her chin. “I am a married lady now, Cristina. I will thank you to remember that and cease giving me orders as if I were still a child.”

“Nay, lass, she’s right,” Michael said from behind her.

She had thought he must have joined Sir Hugo aboard the
Raven
by now, and that boat’s banner was clearly visible to her right, so his sudden appearance from her left startled her. She turned and said irritably, “I am perfectly nimble, sir, and I want to hear all about the battle. From where we waited, one could scarcely see what was happening.”

“I’ll be happy to describe it to you in detail, sweetheart, just as soon as we can enjoy some private time together. But for now, you will remain here with Princess Margaret, Lady Mairi, and your sister.”

His obvious assumption that he need only give the command for her to obey it nettled her more, and she opened her mouth to say so, but as she did, the echo of his words reminded her that Princess Margaret would hear, so she said only, “Then pray do not forget this time that you have promised me a discussion, sir.”

“Nay, lass, I’ll not forget,” he said.

Despite an edge to his voice that suggested he was not merely reassuring her but warning her as well, she turned away from him and took her seat again. If he expected to act the tyrant over her after promising that he would never do such a thing, he had to learn that tyrannical behavior would incur consequences.

“Isobel, you make me blush for your manners,” Cristina hissed at her. “You should not talk to him so, and whatever did you mean, ‘
this time’?
”

Taking care that her words would not travel to the others, she murmured, “Surely, propriety forbids prying into personal affairs between a wife and her husband, Cristina. Must I actually answer that question?”

“No, of course not,” Cristina said apologetically. “Forgive me, dearling.”

Her swift apology made Isobel feel guilty but not so guilty that she was willing to explain. Nevertheless, she said contritely, “There is naught to forgive. I should not have spoken as I did either.”

Amiable relations between them being thus restored, the rest of the day passed slowly, for as much as Isobel loved being on the sea, the scenery was exactly as it had been just days before. Even the cushioned bench grew hard long before they reached the Sound of Sleat, which separated the western Highlands from the east coast of the Isle of Skye.

Recognizing their location, Isobel said in surprise, “Are we not going to harbor in Loch Eishort? ’Tis a much more sheltered harbor than any in the Sound.”

“Nay,” Mairi said, “because the shortest route north from here is through the kyles and the Inner Sound.”

“Have you traveled to the Orkney Islands before, then?”

Mairi laughed. “Nay, but I quizzed Lachlan until he drew maps for me, showing me exactly how we’d go, and why.”

They scarcely had time to beach the women’s boats and set anchors for the others before a welcoming party from Chalamine appeared at the top of the hill path down to the bay. Michael and the other men of their party rejoined them shortly before the riding party arrived.

“There is Father, and Adela is with him, but Sidony and Sorcha are not,” Cristina said. “I hope he is not expecting us to stay longer than the one night.”

Hector said, “Lachlan sent word ahead to him about the battle, and doubtless the captain will have told him we’ll need oarsmen for the extra boats we have as a result and that we mean to continue at dawn. ’Tis a long journey we have ahead.”

The burly, rather grizzled Macleod greeted her grace and Lady Mairi with formal politeness, and his daughters with brusque affection, before turning to Hector and Lachlan to say that he had set sentries to keep watch for them.

“Your messengers made it plain that ye’d be wanting to make an early start tomorrow, so I kent fine ye wouldna want to be riding an hour to get to your boats afore then,” he said. “Moreover, I’ve come to tell ye I’ll be joining me boats wi’ yours, if I’ll no be putting Sir Henry out by the doing.”

“You won’t, sir,” Michael said.

When Macleod looked askance at him, Hector laughed and said, “Allow me to present your new son to you, Macleod, and your new brother to you, Lady Adela,” he added as Adela joined them. “This is Sir Michael St. Clair, Isobel’s husband, and brother of the same Sir Henry who is to be our host at Kirkwall.”

“Aye, sure,” Macleod said, putting out a hand and shaking Michael’s with obvious enthusiasm, although he continued to speak to Hector. “Yon messenger said there’d been a wedding, and Adela here told me summat o’ Sir Michael. ’Tis pleased I am to welcome ye to the family, lad. So, ye believe a few extra bodies arriving early willna vex Sir Henry, but be ye sure o’ that? Sithee, I’ll ha’ Adela wi’ me, as well. Doubtless her sisters and aunt will look after her, but since she’s said she wants to go, I’ve decided we’ll leave the two younger ones at home in hopes o’ finding her a husband. Then, too, three o’ them be too many for anyone to watch.”

Smiling, Michael assured him that Sir Henry would be delighted.

“Then we’ll join ye here for supper,” Macleod said. “Me lads ha’ brought a fine lot o’ mutton chops, manchet loaves, and roasted haunches o’ good Highland beef that we can spit over fires to warm up a bit if ye’ve summat to use as spits and lads to turn the meat whilst we talk.”

This being agreed, they rejoined the others to prepare for the night.

Delighted to see Adela and to learn that she would join them on the journey, Isobel invited her to sleep with her in one of the women’s tents.

Dusk had set in before the men finished building the cooking fires and setting up tents along the hills near the bay, well above the high-water mark. Two large tents were set up for the six ladies and their tirewomen, and others of similar size for the oarsmen, but a number of the latter elected to sleep in the open with the long woolen wraps they called “plaids” to ward off the chill.

Isobel described her wedding for Adela, who seemed shocked by its hasty arrangement but accepted her assurance that haste had been necessary for the very reasons that Adela herself had foretold at the shieling. Isobel said nothing of her reluctance to marry and invited Adela to accompany her while she collected her cloak and a comb from a satchel of belongings that she had left on the boat.

Learning that Adela had brought the dresses she had left behind, although she had been unable to persuade Macleod to include Isobel’s maid in his party, Isobel said, “I shan’t miss her. I’ve grown quite accustomed to sharing Brona and Meg Raith.”

They were returning to the ladies’ tent to arrange their sleeping places when a firm hand on Isobel’s arm and a familiar voice speaking her name stopped them.

“You’ll sleep with me tonight,” Michael said.

“I wish you would not approach so silently,” she said irritably. “You always seem to appear out of nowhere.”

“Come with me now, and I’ll show you where we will sleep.”

“If I must travel with the women, I’ll sleep with them, too,” she said.

“Nay, lass, for we’ll have but one or two nights on this journey that we can spend together. We’ll take advantage of them when they come.”

“I thought you said we would discuss things,” she said. “You just throw orders at me like any other man would.”

“Isobel, really,” Adela exclaimed. “What a way to speak to your husband!”

“I did say we’d have a talk, and we will do so tonight in my tent,” Michael said, adding, “Lady Adela, I think Lady Cristina is looking for you.”

“I’ll go to her at once,” Adela said, casting Isobel a reproachful look as she fled.