The Clan MacDougall Series (50 page)

Findley cast a glance at the boys before answering. “I believe she is. And I believe they’re protectin’ her. They ken where she is.” He looked thoughtfully at his brother. “Ye ken as well as I brother, how hard it is to trust someone, especially a man, when ye’ve lost all that ye have.”

Richard nodded his head and turned to look at the boys. He had been nine when he lost his family, along with their entire village. Although the man responsible for those deaths was now dead, Richard still fought with nightmares. He believed that evil would always exist in this world. Evil men were like bugs—you squash one and there were a hundred more ready to takes its place.

“Aye, I do.” He understood it all too well.

Richard realized then that one of the boys, the one who looked very much like Liam, was missing. “Do ye think the other small lad be with Maggy?” he asked, bringing it to Findley’s attention.

“I would hope so, Richard.” Perhaps they’d left the lad with Maggy as her guard and protector. A smile came to Findley’s face at thinking of these five young boys who were protecting their mum with all that they had in them. Aye, they’d make fine warriors indeed someday. He was glad they were on his side for they would undeniably be formidable adversaries.

The boys had apparently come to some decisions. They formed a line, crossed their arms over their chests and put stern looks upon their faces as they faced Findley and his men. They’d let the eldest do the talking.

“I be Robert,” the oldest lad said by way of an introduction. “These are me brothers, Andrew, Collin and Liam.” Each boy gave a curt nod of his head at the mention of his name.

“You seen what the Buchannans did,” Robert said.

Findley detected a slight catch to the boy’s voice. It was the first time he showed any sign of weakness.

Findley and his men remained quiet and gave slight nods of their heads. Aye, they’d seen it and it would be forever burned in Findley’s memory.

“The Buchannan wants our mum fer his wife. ’Tis why they raided our home.” Robert cleared his throat and stood taller.

Findley’s stomach lurched at the thought of Maggy being forced to wed the Buchannan. He’d kill the bastard before he allowed that to happen. He began to chew on the inside of his cheek again and kept his thoughts to himself.

“But our mum dunna want to marry him,” Andrew offered. The boy was nearly as tall as Robert, but was in sharp contrast to Robert’s blonde hair and green eyes. Andrew had a thick mop of red hair, a freckled face and vivid blue eyes. He could have easily passed for Patrick’s younger brother. “She dunna like the man.”

“And we dunna like him either,” Liam offered as he swiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. “The Buchannan’s a dirty bastard,” he said as he spat at the ground. The boy had tenacity even if he severely lacked good manners.

“Do ye kiss yer mum with that filthy mouth of yers, lad?” Wee William asked. Liam’s face turned crimson.

“I’d never talk like that in front of me mum!” he told him.

“’Tis good to know it,” Wee William said. “I’ll thank ye kindly to watch yer language at all times, lad.” He shot a warning look toward the boy but said nothing more. The boy didn’t realize it, but it was his first lesson in being a gentleman as well as a warrior: control your temper and at all times behave honorably.

They turned their attentions back to Robert. “They burned you out ’cause the Buchannan wants yer mum fer his wife?” Patrick asked for the sake of clarity.

Robert nodded his head. “Aye, they did.”

The men pondered the information for a moment. While Findley could imagine why any number of men would take a fancy to Maggy, what with her auburn hair, bright green eyes and beautiful face. But to kill innocent people for her? Nay, that wasn’t done to impress or woo her into marriage; ’twas done to scare her into it.

“How did ye escape them?” Richard asked.

“We were no’ there when they came. The lads and me was huntin’ rabbits. Mum was lookin’ for herbs to help break Ian’s fever. We heard the ruckus and hid ’til the bast—” Robert stopped himself as he cast an apologetic look toward Wee William. “’Til the eejits left.”

Wee William gave the lad an approving smile. “And yer mum and Ian?” Wee William asked.

Robert looked at his brothers and his expression turned sorrowful. “Mum is well. But Ian…” his voice trailed off and his eyes began to water.

“What of Ian?” Findley asked, knowing he wasn’t going to like the lad’s answer.

“The Buchannans got him.”

T
he Buchannans had Ian. He was just a boy, no more than eight years. Findley’s stomach tightened with thinking how terrified the boy must be—if he still lived. His only hope at the moment was that the Buchannan was keeping the lad alive in order to force Maggy into marrying him.

Patrick shook his head as he stared at the boys. “Yer sure of it?”

Robert nodded his head slowly. “Aye. We were hidin’ in the woods when we heard Ian screamin’ something fierce. We hid at the edge of the woods when the Buchannans rode off with him.”

Robert turned away from the men to wipe the tears from his eyes. Only bairns cry, he admonished himself for acting so childishly. Cryin’ won’t get Ian back.

Findley’s jaw clenched as he took a deep breath in an attempt to settle his apprehension. “Where’s yer mum?” he asked. His firm voice held a warning that no one should try his patience further by keeping her whereabouts secret.

“She be safe and no’ far from here,” Andrew offered. “But we wanna talk to ye first before we take ye to her.” There was a sense of urgency to his voice.

Findley would give them no more than another minute before he would insist they take him to Maggy. “What is it?” he asked impatiently.

Andrew looked at Robert and cleared his throat. “Do you beat yer women where yer from?” he asked, turning to look at Wee William.

Aghast, Findley and his men answered in unison, “Nay!” While they knew of men who thought nothing of beating their wives and children, such actions were not just frowned upon among their clan; they were grounds for expulsion.

“How many in yer clan?” Andrew asked.

“More than four hundred,” Patrick offered.

Andrew nodded his head in approval. “How many are warriors?”

Patrick was perplexed by the question and wondered where it was leading. “Well more than half.”

The lads looked to be impressed with the numbers. They all turned to look at Wee William. “How many look like him?” Andrew asked as he motioned his head at Wee William.

Patrick and Richard laughed aloud while Wee William smiled wryly.

“I can assure ye lads, there isn’t another man as big as our Wee William in all of Scotland,” Richard told them.

If there had been, they would most assuredly have met the man on the battlefield or heard tales at some point, for Wee William was a giant of a man. He stood nearly seven feet tall, with arms the size of tree trunks, massive legs and a very broad chest. He had the strength of at least five men. He was a man and a warrior of unparalleled proportions.

The boys looked a bit disappointed with learning there was none other like Wee William. “Are ye married?” Andrew asked.

A look of utter surprise came to the faces of each of the men before they burst forth in a fit of laughter. Wee William married? Och! Wee William scared most men near to shaking. Unfortunately he had the same effect on women.

It would take an act of divine intervention to find a woman who would not tremble with fright at his immense girth and gravelly voice. She’d have to have a very strong constitution and be braver than most men to see beyond that, as well as his full beard, his unruly hair and many scars.

“Nay!” Richard choked on his laughter. “Wee William be not married.”

Findley was not nearly as amused as his men. They were wasting precious time. “Why do ye ask lads?” His voice was calm as he tried to mask his impatience.

’Twas Robert who answered. “We need to find our mum a husband. If she be married, then the Buchannan will leave her be and give us back our Ian.” He didn’t take his eyes from Wee William. “She needs a man who can protect her. Keep the Buchannan away from her. A man who wilna beat her.”

The sudden awareness that the lads meant for their mum to marry Wee William hit each of the men like a bucket of cold water. “Ye want yer mum to marry Wee William?” Patrick asked. He was astounded by the suggestion.

Wee William shot his friend a hard look. “And what be wrong with that?” he asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Aside from the fact that I ain’t lookin’ to get married any time in the near future, do ye think I’d no’ make a good husband?”

Patrick bit his lip to keep from laughing further. “Nay! Ye’d make a fine husband.” He was doing his best to hold his laughter in. “If yer wife be blind and six and a half feet tall!”

Wee William’s face turned to a dark scowl and he started toward his friend. “Ye little shite!”

Patrick was laughing too hard to move or defend himself from Wee William’s wrath. He doubled over and did not worry much that his friend might be tempted to strangle him. They’d been needling each other for years and he was confident Wee William knew it was all in jest.

Findley had reached his limits. “Gentlemen!” he shouted. “We’ve no time for nonsense!”

He turned to look at the boys. “Lads, while I’m sure ye mean well, do you no’ think you might want to take yer mum’s feelings into consideration before marryin’ her off?” Besides, he thought to himself, I plan on askin’ her fer that pleasure.

He had to admit that the boys were doing their best to be brave and take a firm hold of the situation in order to protect their mum. But there had to be a better way than having her marry Wee William.

Robert looked at Findley as if he had spiders crawling out his ears. “She be a woman. She dunna get a say in the matter, do she?”

Unfortunately that was often the case. Marriages were oftentimes the result of men trying to better their own purses, increase their lands or holdings, or to stop war. Seldom were the feelings of either party brought into the decision making process. But this situation was different. Maggy was a widow, the mother of five boys and ’twas the boys trying to foster a union for her. And if she were to marry anyone, it would be Findley.

Findley had to quash a smile. “Aye, lad, she does get a say in the matter.” He’d take the time later to explain to the boys that a woman’s feeling should always be considered.

Robert looked as though he did not believe Findley. “It matters not. He’s big,” he said, nodding his head toward Wee William. “The biggest man I ever seen. Surely he can scare the Buchannan into leavin’ mum alone and givin’ us back our Ian.”

The mention of Ian brought them all back to the here and now. It would definitely take more than a terrifying Wee William to get the Buchannan to return the boy. It would take an all out assault.

Maggy had grown worried over her boys. They’d been gone far too long. She began to chastise herself for allowing them to leave to hunt for a rabbit or a pheasant for their dinner. She should have kept them nearby or insisted she go along with them. As it was, she had been digging for roots to roast along with whatever the lads might be able to catch.

Her mind began to race with thoughts that mayhap the Buchannans had found them and now held all of her boys as captives. The thought sickened her. It was bad enough they had Ian. To think for a moment that the Buchannan could get his hands on her other boys was nearly more than her heart could bear.

She had to keep herself together, for all of their sakes. She had to get to her brother in Dundee. And if not him, then her other brother in Aberdeen. If she could get herself and the boys to one of them, then she could call on the rest of her brothers for help in procuring Ian’s safe return. Her brothers were her only hope at the moment.

They’d been walking for days now, heading toward Renfrew. No blankets, no food and not a supply or belonging to their names. It was all beginning to take its toll on her heart as well as her body.

She paced around their makeshift camp for a time, cursing under her breath all the while praying for her boys to return safely. She had let them go hunting only because they were growing weary of eating roasted roots and drinking bark tea.

Too much time had passed for her liking and she simply could not bear waiting any longer. She pulled the roots from the coals, covered them with leaves and set out in search of her boys.

Ian. He had to be alive. If he weren’t, no Buchannan would be safe from Findley’s wrath.

They would gather up Maggy and the boys and head for Renfrew. Once there, he’d send a messenger back to Dunshire and beg Angus for more men. While the boys might be good rock throwers, they weren’t exactly the kind of warriors he needed at the moment.

Findley looked at the bedraggled and near starving lads before him—covered with dirt, grungy from days without bathing and scrawny from lack of good meals. They were just children.

How many other children, he wondered, could have gone through what these lads had and still manage to maintain the determination, strength and dignity of the boys now standing before him? They reminded Findley very much of himself at that age.