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“Be careful,” Owen said. “I dinna trust no one with this but ye.”
Malcolm gave a solemn nod and hid the parchment in the inner folds of his coat. Malcolm was one of the most loyal and dependable men of the clan. He was also someone who’d managed to see through Owen’s shite and see him for who he was—a lad with bad luck and big brothers to look up to.
Malcolm placed his gloved fist against his heart. “I’ll rather die than let anyone get this.”
Owen looked at Malcolm’s claymore with the small Cambel clan arms on the hilt. “’Tis better ye take this sword.” He handed him the English sword he’d taken from the guard in Stirling. “Ye better have nae other sign ye belong to our clan on ye. If anyone stops ye, ye’re just a traveler.”
Malcolm took the sword. “Look after my claymore.”
“Aye.” Owen took the man’s sword, and Malcolm nodded and mounted his horse.
“Godspeed,” Owen said and clapped the horse’s side. He exhaled a long breath as Malcolm galloped out of the castle. It was done. Now he could only pray to God that Malcolm would get to Inverlochy safely. Owen would go himself, but he knew his father would never allow him to leave the castle. He might even disown Owen and ban him from the clan if he tried.
Owen looked around the courtyard. Most of the clan was still eating inside the great hall. Malcolm had no idea Dougal didn’t want the Bruce to get the message. If he did, would he still believe Owen and take the message to the Bruce?
There was one person who stood by the great hall and watched him, her dark eyes piercing. Owen’s breath caught at the sight of Amber.
He was still furious with her. Mostly because she might be right. He did need to talk to his father again. Sending a message behind his father’s back was not only wrong, it was treachery to go against his chief. Well, his father wasn’t chief, but he was in charge while Uncle Neil was away.
Amber marched towards him.
“What did you do?” She propped her hands against her hips and glared at him like an angry cat. She stood close enough for him to reach down and kiss her.
But he couldn’t.
“Ye should go and rest after the long journey,” Owen said.
“Did you just send that man with a message to the Bruce?”
He put Malcom’s claymore in its scabbard and walked towards the big tower. “Dinna fash about that, Amber.”
She followed him. “You did, didn’t you? What about talking to your father again? I heard he forbade you from sending the message. He’ll be furious.”
“Aye. But he wilna find out until the Bruce arrives here.”
“You invited him here?”
Owen entered the tower and climbed the stairs. His bedchamber was on the top floor. “Aye. We must come up with a plan for the ambush at the Pass of Brander.”
Her face darkened with worry. “Owen, you really might have put yourself in a big mess.”
He shook his head. “It dinna matter. I ken I’m right. I also ken the Pass of Brander well, and what John MacDougall described in his plan, it matches perfectly.”
“I believe you. I just wish your stubborn father would, too.”
“Ye’re from the future. Dinna ye ken what happens?”
“Unfortunately, I didn’t study history in much detail. But I remember Robert the Bruce is supposed to be a great warrior and a great military leader. I think he’s successful.”
Owen sighed with relief. “Good.” They’d reached the door to his room, and he pushed it open and went inside. Amber followed.
“But I also have no idea if you can change the future with your actions,” she said. “Amy and I being here could change the course of history.”
That thought chilled Owen’s bones. “Aye, I wilna treat this as a certain future. I need to make sure it happens, nae matter what.”
Amber looked around his room, her eyes lingering on the swords, shields, and bows hanging on the walls.
“If I stay longer with your clan, I want to earn my keep.”