Page 14 of Highland Storm

Chapter 6

Logan, Caleb, and Ethan ran to meet Hawke as soon as he rode through the gate of Hermitage Castle. Feeling sick to his stomach after everything that had transpired, Hawke dreaded having to make the announcement that couldn’t be avoided.

“Where are the other men?” asked Caleb, looking behind him down the drawbridge.

“Aye, where is our chieftain?” asked Logan in confusion.

“And who is she?” Ethan pointed at the girl sitting in front of Hawke.

Hawke slowly lowered himself from the horse, reaching back up to help Phoebe dismount.

“Ye’re wounded,” said Ethan, noticing the blood on Hawke and the bandage. “What happened?”

Hawke’s father, as well as his grandmother, Lady Clarista, ran across the courtyard to meet them. They were followed by the rest of the clan.

“Hawke, you’re hurt,” said his English grandmother, reaching out to gently touch him on the arm. “Where is my husband? I hope he’s not hurt, too. With his age, he doesn’t heal fast anymore.” She looked around and frowned.

“Son, I think ye better tell us what happened,” said Storm in a low voice.

“We were attacked by the MacNabs,” said Hawke with a deep sigh. “I’m sorry to say that four of our men are dead and our enemy has taken Ian with them.”

Several wails went up from the wives of the deceased at hearing the awful news. The women pulled their children close to them for comfort. It stabbed at Hawke’s heart to see not only the crying widows, but also the frightened looks in the children’s eyes. He wanted to comfort each one of them personally, but couldn’t do that right now.

“Was Ian wounded?” asked Clarista, keeping her chin high, staying strong as she pulled one of the women of the dead men to her and rubbed her back to comfort her.

“Nay,” Hawke answered with a shake of his head. Sweat beaded on his brow. “Grandda was not harmed as far as I ken.”

“Where did they take him?” asked Storm.

“I believe they took him back to their castle and will be demandin’ a ransom soon.”

“Well, where the hell were ye when this was all goin’ on?” Storm ran a troubled hand through his hair and his jaw clenched tightly. “God’s eyes, Hawke. Ye are one of my best warriors. I counted on ye to keep the others safe and now they’re dead. And ye ken better than anyone that Ian is no’ the man he used to be. Yer grandfaither might no’ come out of this alive if they decide to torture him.”

“I’m sorry, Da,” Hawke apologized meekly, his hand going to his wound. “I ken I should have been able to save them. I didna mean to let everyone down.”

Phoebe couldn’t believe that Hawke was taking the blame for something that was out of his control. His clan seemed to hold him responsible for what happened, saying he should have protected the others and kept the laird from being taken. There was nothing he could have done. He was wounded and left for dead. Nay, it truly wasn’t his fault. Still, Hawke said nothing in his defense. Phoebe didn’t like it. The man needed to speak up and defend himself. If he wouldn’t do it, she decided that she would tell them the truth about what happened.

“Hawke was stabbed, kicked, beaten, thrown from a horse, and left for dead,” said Phoebe. “I stitched his wound, but he has lost a lot of bluid and needs to rest.”

Everyone looked at her in shock for speaking so brashly. The crowd became quiet. Finally, Storm spoke.

“And who might ye be, lassie?”

“I’m Phoebe,” she told him. “Phoebe MacNab,” she answered proudly, raising her chin in the air and looking directly at them. “My faither is Angus MacNab, our clan’s chieftain.”

“She’s the enemy,” someone shouted.

“How dare ye bring her inside our castle walls,” cried someone else.

“Kill her,” shouted a man from the back of the crowd.

Hawke noticed the king’s chronicler and his daughter making their way to the front. What happened today wasn’t something Hawke wanted listed in their writings.

“Wait,” shouted Hawke, lifting his hand in the air, and wavering back and forth. “I didna tell ye all of it. When I was lyin’ there, left for dead, Phoebe tried to pick my pocket.”

“Then she’s also a thief!” cried one woman.

“Hang her,” shouted a man. “We canna trust any MacNab. Especially no’ a woman.”