The Return of Black Douglas by Elaine Coffman Read Free Book Online Page B

the full force of the warm morning sun as they left the heather-clad moorland to ride through the shadows of deep glens, surrounded by thick woodlands. A golden eagle soared, lazily gliding overhead. A large flock of skylarks flapped out of the trees in announcing their arrival. The feeling was stronger now: Alysandir felt the presence of something evil-intentioned, a treacherous presence moving about furtively, waiting in a shadowy corner, ready to pounce.
    “Keep a good vigil, lads,” he said to his brothers. “I have a uneasy feeling we are being watched.”
    “Aye, I can almost smell the Macleans.” Colin looked around anxiously as he spoke the words.
    They splashed across a narrow, swiftly running burn. When they reached the other side, Colin’s horse began to dance and shy away, nervously chomping the bit. The damp, salty tang of the sea hung heavy in the air. Alysandir cautiously took note of the silence in the glen as they approached.
    It was suddenly still.
    The birds were quiet.
    Nothing stirred.
    He glanced at his brothers and saw the tension in their faces and in the way they gripped the reins. He brushed away a few flecks of foam thrown from Colin’s horse that had landed on his tunic. His own horse tossed his head and pranced sideways, snorting, the bit clanging against his teeth, as if anxious to be away from this place. Alysandir gave Gallagher a calming stroke and slowly moved his arm closer to his sword.
    The faces of his brothers were set, grim and hard. They were ready for whatever lay ahead. Colin said, with nervous dryness, “’Twould seem the Macleans are aware that we have taken Barbara to Iona.”
    “Aye, they probably knew the moment we rode away with her,” Alysandir said. “They were certain of it when we arrived back on Mull without her. ’Tis sorry I am that I couldna see the face of Fergus when he realized we outwitted them.”
    Fergus bragged oft enough that Barbara Mackinnon would be his wife, one way or another. One way was to ask the Mackinnon chief, Alysandir, for Barbara’s hand in marriage, which Fergus did.
    When Alysandir made the request known to Barbara, she almost spat back the words of her response, “Fergus Maclean! Troth! I would sooner marry the devil or drown myself in the Firth of Lorne than spend one day with him!”
    Angus took offense at Barbara’s refusal of Fergus’s offer and gave his blessing to Fergus, should he decide he wanted her enough to seize her and force her into marriage. Now, Barbara was tucked safely away in the nunnery at Iona and Alysandir hoped that Fergus Maclean’s desire would soon be transferred to some other bonnie lass before Barbara started to complain and make demands to return home.
    “I will wager that the Macleans will have every member of their clan out to take revenge,” Drust said. “We can expect to find them lurking behind every tree we pass.”
    “I have a feeling it willna be long afore we find just what tree that is,” Colin said.
    Alysandir paid them no mind. Revenge was certain because it was the Macleans’ nature to settle everything with a fight. Angus was easily roused to anger and liked to incite and provoke those who did not act according to his wants and desires. Alysandir was slow to anger, and it was his way not to set himself against anyone needlessly but simply to let the varlets go on with their play undisturbed. He did not want trouble, but he would not run from it if put in his path. He protected his clan and his kin, and if the Macleans wanted a fight, they would get one, no matter how outnumbered the Mackinnons were.
    He looked down at the scar on his right hand—a badge of honor, his father called it—a reminder of his first encounter with a Maclean sword. He was ten years old when the Macleans attacked as the Mackinnons returned from a visit to their uncle. During the battle, a Maclean, with sword drawn, charged Hugh. Without thinking, Alysandir guided his horse against the Maclean, causing the