Over the Highland Mountains

Chapter 20 • Bridge (Part 2)

Alasdair and his men rode hard to make up the distance, praying that they truly were going in the right direction. After some time, they decided to ride a bit further apart to see if they could make out some sort of clue as to where the attackers might have disappeared to.

The search continued until late into the night, but with no success.

Keir raised the signal to regroup and they all rode to his firelight.

"Any luck?" Alasdair asked when they all had gathered.

A muffled chorus of negative, disheartened groans came in answer.

"Nay, the blasted rain made its mark well," Keir grumbled, "And the darkness only makes matters worse."

"Weel, we've got to keep trying," Alasdair urged determinedly, trying not to let his desperation seep through to his voice.

"How about we veer slightly eastward towards Ross territory?" Blake suggested, "It lies between Mackenzie and Sutherland, mayhap they are headed back home?"

"I do no' think Callum would want to take this sketchy business home, especially if he did no' even tell ye about it, and ye're his second in command," Ivor pointed out with a shake of his head.

"Mayhap no' all the way," Fergus voiced, deep in thought, receiving many questioning faces. He turned to Blake, "Would ye say Callum is one who has an appreciation fer poetry?"

"What are ye on about Fergus?"

"I'm just thinking, his wife and unborn child died on the Ross-Sutherland bridge, what if he finds a certain kind o' poetry taking Lily there?"

"If his intention is to kill her," Blake nodded hesitantly, "Probably."

"Weel, let's go there!" Fergus encouraged, regaining some stamina, "What do ye say, Alasdair?"

All eyes turned to the young laird.

If they went and she wasn't there, their night search would have been in vain seeing as it would be dawn by the time they arrived. But if she was there and they didn't go, who knows what would happen to her.

It might already be too late...

"To the bridge," Alasdair decided with a curt nod and they all spun their horses in a northeasterly direction toward the very place Alasdair never wanted to see again.

They were nearing the clearing before the forest that led to the bridge as first light was approaching.

The birds were singing their sweet melodies and for once Alasdair was not disturbed by the wren's call; he was focused on driving his horse hard towards their destination.

Keir's horse coming to an abrupt halt drew him from his concentration. His second dropped from his mount, ran back some distance before bending to pick something up. When Alasdair rode up next to him in curiosity, Keir solemnly handed the small metallic object to him.

"Lily's brooch," Alasdair realised in relief as his large hand closed over the intricate object.

"She must have dropped it in the hopes we would follow," Blake ventured.

"We're headed in the right direction," Ivor agreed.

With that encouragement, Keir mounted again and they rode hard with renewed motivation and only when Keir's fist came up next to his ear as a signal for all behind him to halt and be silent did they allow their horses to rest. They slowed to a trot and finally to a standstill when they came next to Keir.

They had a good vantage point and were looking out over the valley of Ross territory. It was not that different from Mackenzie's land, only a few different shrubs here and there and plenty more Highland cows Alasdair had barely noticed in their haste.