A Fierce Archer (Clan Ross Book 6) by Hildie McQueen (best story books to read .TXT) 📗

The men dispersed and Keithen turned to Ewan. “When do ye leave?”

“In three days. Is there anything I should take to yer sister?”

The man shook his head. “No, but I do have something to tell ye.”

Ewan frowned. Whatever it was, he hoped it wasn’t going to annoy him.

“My mother is requesting to travel with ye. She wishes to visit with Esme and see her grandchildren.”

The news was unexpected. Ewan wasn’t prepared to escort the laird’s wife. “I am traveling with fifteen men. Will ye send more?”

“Aye, an additional twenty-five Fraser men will go with ye. They will escort Mother back, when she returns.”

Ewan nodded. “I am going to the village today. I need to gauge my ability to ride.”

“I must tell ye something else,” Keithen added, meeting his gaze. “Despite whatever reason ye had for killing Laird Mackenzie, we owe ye a great deal.”

“I wish I could finish what I had planned,” Ewan said.

Keithen’s face hardened. “That one is mine. I am biding my time, but it will happen. Catriona’s and my mother’s capture will not go unpunished.”

“I will leave it to ye then,” Ewan told Keithen. It gave him peace to know that the marred man would hopefully meet his demise soon.

“I do have one question.” Keithen met his gaze. “Is there any reason why ye would choose to remain here other than yer vendetta?”

Ewan wasn’t sure what brought on the question. Keithen Fraser was a man of few words. The man often kept his thoughts shuttered. “No, in actuality, there is nothing that keeps me here. I have grown close to some of yer clanspeople, but it is time for me to go.”

The man gave him a knowing look. “Ye should consider taking someone with ye to the village. Whoever is attacking may be lurking.”

After speaking to Keithen, the fast-approaching time of his departure prompted Ewan to go in search of Catriona. In the mornings, she usually worked in the garden, so he headed in that direction.

As expected, she was kneeling, digging into the soft dirt. When he opened the gate, she looked up. Upon seeing him, her expression softened.

Ewan lowered to one knee next to her. “Have ye been avoiding me? We haven’t spoken in several days.”

Her shoulders lifted and lowered. “I thought it best to keep my distance. Ye are leaving and becoming close will make yer departure all the more upsetting.”

“Why do ye not come with me?” Ewan pinned her with a questioning look. “I will keep ye protected. Nothing will happen. We will be traveling with forty guardsmen.”

Catriona stood and he followed suit. “I wish I could Ewan. I wish for so many things. Just the idea of getting to know ye better is almost enough to push me to do something like that.”

“Ye can. Just take a single step and I will help ye the rest of the way.”

A battle inside as to whether to push her to make a decision or not ensued. Ewan decided it was now or never. “I am leaving in three days. Can we discuss this more later? I am going to the village. Can I seek ye when I return?”

After a few beats, she nodded. “Very well.”

He went back to the stables to find his steed, feeling somewhat better after Catriona agreed to speak to him later.

“He’s saddled,” one of the two Ross guards who were going with him to the village called out. Ewan went to Ban, his silver horse. Hoisting up to the saddle was uncomfortable and he had to blow out several breaths waiting for the tightness of his midsection to settle.

Another of the men studied him. “Are ye sure ye are able to ride for several days?”

“Aye, I’m well enough. Tis time to leave.”

Riding hard, it was about a two-day trek to Ross lands. But now that they were escorting Lady Fraser and, hopefully, Catriona, the trip could probably take at least two nights and three days. Ewan hoped he wouldn’t be feverish upon arriving at Dun Airgid if riding became too hard for him.

They rode to the village and he ensured to keep in tune with what his body did. Halfway there, he relaxed as the small amount of pain from mounting abated.

Upon arriving, all three dismounted at the village square. The men instantly went to find a woman who sold beautiful ribbons and other hair baubles. They purchased enough for their own wives and for a few other men that had asked they bring things back for theirs. Ewan studied the display, hands behind his back.

“This would be a beautiful gift for yer lady.” A young lass who helped the lady held up a green ribbon to Ewan. “Ye can give her this to match,” the lass prodded, lifting a pretty comb in a slightly lighter shade.

“I will take them.” He gave the girl the coins necessary and then walked away before she talked him into more purchases.

“A wee sewing basket for notions?” An old woman held up an intricately weaved creation. The basket was the size of the palm of his hand. Once again, he pulled out his coin pouch and purchased it.

The men came up to where he stood and upon seeing the small basket, also purchased some. “When our wives see that yer lady has that, they will be upset we didn’t get one,” one of the men complained.

“We should go,” Ewan prodded, and they hurried past another two stalls holding out shawls and other creations. At seeing a beautiful green shawl, Ewan hesitated. It would match the ribbons he’d purchased for Catriona. He rushed over, grabbed the shawl, thew coins at the merchant and joined the other men who looked past him to the shawls.

“Are women always this costly?” he asked once they’d