Brotherhood: The Warrior Part 20

Lochlan doubted it. "Since Bracken was taking your lady wife home, nay. I didn't give him the location for fear of endangering them."

Stryder cursed. "Then who did she speak to?"

"That would be the question..." Along with who else would have known about their plans. Lochlan scanned the area, but there was no sign of her anywhere.

Stryder stepped back. "I'll have Rowena check her room. Maybe she's still there. Something could have happened. Perhaps she couldn't get past the guards."

That would definitely make Lochlan feel better. He wanted to believe that she was still safe and sound in her room. "I'll wait here until your return." But that was the last thing he wanted to do.

He felt the need to start searching for her immediately. Every second they delayed, could be critical to her well-being if she wasn't there.

"I'll check the stables for her horse," Simon said. "And if it's still there, I'll check the stairs again."

"My thanks."

Lochlan paced the small area while a million scenarios went through his head. Part of them revolved around Catarina running on her own from them, but she'd seemed content enough that he and the others would take her from here.

Had someone kidnapped her for ransom? It was possible and frightening.

After several minutes, he paused in his pacing as he saw Stryder approaching with a stern grimace on his face. "She wasn't there. Rowena found this in her room." He held out a piece of folded vellum.

Lochlan opened it and read the note that was signed with his name and as he did so, fury sizzled through him. Who the devil would have used his name? "I didn't write this."

"We figured as much. Rowena said that it was left out in the open as if someone had meant for it to be seen. If Cat had truly gone to meet you as planned, she wouldn't have left anything behind to incriminate you in the deed."

That was true enough. "Who could have left it, then?"

Stryder shrugged. "I'm sure whoever sent it to her. Have you any enemies?"

Lochlan snorted at the obvious answer to that. "Oswald."

"True, but I don't think his hatred would cause him to risk his own life. If the king finds out his daughter has been taken against her will and his, the culprit will die."

True enough. This newest deed defied logic, but then people seeking vengeance often did things that made no sense. "Someone is after me and I'm willing to wager whoever it is will kill her for it."

"I agree."

Terror for what they might be doing to her even while he spoke to Stryder invaded every part of him. "We have to find her as soon as possible."

"Aye and I know just the person who can help us." Stryder motioned him to follow as he turned and made his way back to the tents where the knights were camped.

Lochlan scowled but didn't speak. Why would they come here and not set out immediately?

But he knew enough to trust the earl.

After a few minutes, they reached a tent that was set apart from the others, on the outer edge of the field. It was all black. Stryder motioned him to silence before he parted the flap. There was a small lamp burning inside that illuminated a pallet on the floor where a lean man lay sleeping.

Lochlan grimaced at the harsh scars marring the man's flesh. He had long brown hair that fell over his face, obscuring his features.

Black armor was set to the opposite side of the tent on a dummy. And by the red and gold markings on the man's black s.h.i.+eld, it was obvious he was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d-born mercenary with no lands or t.i.tle.

Yet there was no sign of a sword or dagger.

Stryder approached the sleeping man but before he could touch him, the man awoke. Cursing, he swung his arm out and it wasn't until Stryder caught his hand that Lochlan realized the man held a dagger that would have slit Stryder's throat had he not expected and countered the attack.

"It's me, Kestrel. Relax."

He wrenched his arm free of Stryder's grip. "You know better than to wake me."

"I know, but I need your help."

Kestrel narrowed his suspicious gaze on Lochlan. "Since he stands at your back, I'm a.s.suming he's a friend."

"Aye. He was traveling with the French princess and now she's been taken. It appears whoever took her is trying to blame it on him."

Kestrel clenched his teeth, then nodded. "I'll be dressed and ready to travel in three shakes."

Stryder released his hand. "Thank you."

Kestrel gave a subtle nod before he brought his sword out from under the blanket.

Stryder straightened up and led Lochlan from the tent. They stood off to the side to give the man privacy while he dressed. "He's a bit harsh at times," Stryder said in a low, apologetic tone. "But he's had a hard past."

"Can we trust him?"

"I'd put my life in his hands."

There was no better statement than that. "He was with you in Outremer?"

Stryder nodded. "After we escaped and he returned home to his family, his father disowned him."

Lochlan was stunned by that. "Why?"

"Because he returned and his older brother didn't."

That made no sense to him, but having had a father who would have most likely reacted the same way, he understood. "Was he b.a.s.t.a.r.d born?"

Stryder shook his head. "But none of his family is allowed even to speak his name. So he wears the mark of a b.a.s.t.a.r.d and refuses to acknowledge any of them. He won't even use his given name anymore."

Lochlan felt for the poor man.

He started to speak, then paused as Kestrel joined them. His long hair was pulled back at his neck and stubble marred his otherwise perfect goatee. He was dressed in a black pair of breeches and a plain black surcoat. The only thing to mark him as a knight was the sword he wore and an air of competent death that surrounded him.

Kestrel approached them with determination. "What do you need?"

"We have no trace of the princess," Stryder said. "You're the only man I know who can track them."

One corner of Kestrel's mouth quirked up in a deadly smile. "Do you have anything?"

Stryder handed him the vellum. "Only this note."

Kestrel looked at it without taking it. "What does it say?"

Realizing the man was illiterate, which wasn't uncommon for a knight, Lochlan read it to him.

Kestrel nodded. "Follow me, my lords. We're going to find the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who took her and kill him."

Why does this feel so familiar? Unfortunately Cat knew the answer. Every time she turned around, it seemed some man was tying her up to take her someplace she didn't want to be.

The only difference now was that these men intended to kill her and blame Lochlan for it.

Growling deep in her throat, she worked against the ropes that held her hands together. She was getting really tired of having chafe marks and rope burns on her wrists.

"I say we should go ahead and kill her," Graham MacKaid said to his brother.

"Nay, not yet. We have to give Lochlan enough time to vanish as well. If it appears she's been murdered while he's still in camp with those who can verify his whereabouts, they'll know he didn't kill her. We have to send the note to him and have him come for her, then we kill her and everyone will think he did it."

"Keeping her alive makes me nervous."

"She's a woman. What can she do?"

If she wasn't bound and gagged, she'd be more than willing to show him just how far from helpless she was. As it was, all she could do was glare at them and hope she freed herself before their brother returned and told them Lochlan had left the camp.

Graham turned toward her and scowled.

Cat stopped moving.

But it was too late. He'd seen what she was about. He sneered as he approached her. "You think you can untie that, Princess?"

Honestly, aye. She'd untied a lot better knots than this one.

But she wasn't about to tell him what she thought. When dealing with an enemy, silence was indeed the greatest virtue. They should never know what their opponent was thinking.

So she returned his sneer with one of her own. Not that it was probably off-putting given the fact that she was gagged, but it at least made her feel better.

Graham scoffed at her. "She doesn't look very regal, does she?"

"Nay. More like a peasant. Even in finery, I'd have never guessed her breeding."

As if their breeding was any better. What kind of man trussed a woman up like this, then butchered her while she was helpless?

Where were her father's guards when she needed them?

Graham fingered his knife while he watched her. "Have no fear, Princess. We'll make the cut clean. There won't be much pain before you die."

Well that just made her feel all better about it. But even with her inner quips, the truth was she was scared. Terribly. If she didn't get out of this, she would die. Alone and painfully. There was no reprieve from these monsters. They were determined to end her life.

Truthfully, she didn't want this. There was so much more she'd wanted to do with her life. She wanted...

Lochlan. She didn't know why he'd be her last thought, but he was. He would agonize over this and she didn't want to add that pain to him. He'd hold himself responsible.

And it wasn't just that. She wanted to see him again. To touch him. He truly was her biggest regret. She wouldn't be here to see him find his brother.

She wouldn't...

Cat stopped her maudlin thoughts and sniffed at the tears that were stinging her eyes. This wasn't her. She would not give up or in to these cretins. Not so long as there was a single breath in her body. Lochlan didn't deserve the fate these animals had planned for him and neither did she.

Nay, she would survive this and as Lochlan would say, they'd both play a giddy tune over their graves.

Her anger renewed, she kicked out against her captor. He yelped before he fell to the ground.

Cat pushed herself up and tried to run, but the other one caught her about the waist and threw her down.

She tried to kick him, too, but he was smarter than Graham.

"You do that again, la.s.s, and I'll cut your leg off."

Cat slammed her head against the ground in frustration as he moved to tie her feet. She tried to kick, but it didn't do any good. Now she was trussed up so that she truly had no other hope.

Closing her eyes, she prayed with renewed vigor. This couldn't be the end of her. It couldn't.

Lochlan watched as Kestrel kept low to the ground and examined every part of the garden.

"What is he doing?"

"He's reading the foliage."

"How so?"

"I have no idea. 'Twas a game his uncle would play with him and his brother. He taught them to track better than any hound or hawk I've ever seen."

Simon smiled as he came up behind them. "Kestrel. I should have known."

Kestrel looked up with a feral grimace. "Would you old maids stop your chattering? I'm trying to concentrate."

Lochlan wasn't sure he believed in the man's abilities, until he rejoined them. "There were three men who took her." He held out a piece of plaid and velvet. "They left this behind to be found."

Lochlan cursed at the sight. "'Tis a plaid my brothers and I use."

Simon cursed. "They're setting you up."

"Aye and this confirms it."

"Can you find their trail?" Stryder asked Kestrel.

A slow smile spread over Kestrel's face. "One isn't far from here," he whispered. "He's waiting on us to leave Lochlan alone methinks."

"How do you know that?"