Highlander’s Evil Side by Shona Thompson
Chapter Nineteen
Fraser
Three days passed since Kenneth and Gavin were assigned to follow him, and already Fraser was tiring of their presence. Nothing had happened. The Black Stags hadn’t attacked. The Sire Beitris had spoken of had remained in hiding, and Fraser’s look-alike had all but disappeared without a trace.
Time passed slowly while Fraser waited for an attack, for the changeling or the man to reappear, but there was nothing. Soldiers returned in the morn from their long night’s watch over the western village. Men and women trudged in and out of the keep, speaking with the castle healer and grabbing whatever provisions they needed. Unfortunately, there were hardly any places in the castle for so many people.
Fraser sighed while gazing out the window, watching a woman trying to calm her wailing baby. She patted the child’s back. Her face was covered in dirt, her blond hair matted to her cheeks. Fraser felt as if he should be doing more, not standing around, waiting for this man to attack him. He glanced to the right, seeing Kenneth leaning against the wall, picking the dirt out from his nails. He looked to the left, finding Gavin nearly falling asleep, his shoulder resting against the stone.
Fraser sighed. This was pointless. Gavin and Kenneth had much better things to do than follow him around all day. They could be rebuilding the village. They could be guarding the tents and handing out food to the villagers. They could be doing anything but this.
The sound of footsteps echoing down the hall made Gavin and Kenneth both jump to attention, their hands on their hilts. Fraser stifled the need to shake his head at his attentive guards, knowing it was most likely a servant doing her duties or a villager searching for Hamish. Gavin and Kenneth both relaxed when Fraser’s mother rounded the corner.
“Good day, my lady,” Gavin and Kenneth murmured in unison while bowing low.
Fraser forced a smile, yet his mother’s eyes narrowed. Her chin jutted out, and she continued past him without another word. The past three days had been uneventful; however, Fraser didn’t think he could stand his mother’s silence. She hadn’t said a word more than “good morn” or “good day” to him since the meeting with the village heads. He knew she was likely angry with him for raising his voice and demanding she leave the meeting, but what was he supposed to do? She was speaking with his double, she knew more than she told, and he did not know if he could trust her.
But she was still his mother. Fraser could not let this silent battle continue any longer. What if something were to happen to her?
“Mother,” Fraser called while striding towards Helga.
She didn’t turn around. Her black-clad back faced him, and she continued down the hall and up the spiraling staircase towards the battlements. Fraser paused for a brief moment, watching her form disappear into the keep’s shadows, questioning himself as to whether following her would be beneficial or not. They couldn’t continue like this, that he knew.
Fisting his hands, he pressed on, hearing Gavin and Kenneth’s footsteps following shortly behind him. His hands slid against the wall as the shadows took hold of his sight. Light faintly slipped onto the staircase as the door remained open, displaying the clouds hanging low above the battlements.
“Wait here,” Fraser said while raising a hand, not bothering to turn to his guards as he took the last two steps with one swift movement.
If anything were to happen, he knew it wouldn’t take long for Gavin and Kenneth to come to his aid. He suspected his mother of knowing the Fraser fraud, but he highly doubted she would do anything to her only son. Fraser still believed she loved and cared for him, otherwise, she wouldn’t appear so guilty and ghostly.
Helga stood in the middle of the battlements, between the two towers. Her hands rested on the wall while she stared out into the distance as if she was marveling at her lands. She didn’t move when he sidled close to her, his gaze following hers. Several brown tents littered the fields.
Fraser frowned, and he leaned forward, wondering where the guards were. There should be four circling the camp, ensuring the encampment, and yet he saw none. Women, children, and the elderly sat amongst themselves, and Fraser’s insides twisted, knowing he would need to speak with Scott about this. They couldn’t be left outside the castle’s walls without protection.
Fraser turned away from them, wanting to deal with one problem at a time. He took in the sight of his mother, with her chin jutting out and her head held high. Despite how regal she appeared before him with her clean black garbs and her pristine hair, tied in a low plait going down the length of her back, he could still see the shaking in her hands.
When had she become so pallid, so distant? He remembered his mother as a nurturing woman, as someone who enjoyed holding him. She always seemed so proud of him and interested in his work, yet now all he could see was a shadow of what she used to be.
“Ye wish to speak with me, Fraser?” Helga asked while keeping her attention on the fields.
“Aye, I wish to speak with ye.”
Helga pushed back her shoulders, an annoyed sigh leaving her lips. “Then, please, do share.” She glanced at him, a bitter smirk taking hold of her lips. The bitterness didn’t meet her eyes. They stared up at him, filled with sorrow with a hint of something else. Worry, Fraser realized.
“Or have ye come to send me back to my rooms?” Helga’s voice caught his attention.
His frown deepened, but he didn’t say anything as he watched her turn towards him.
“Are ye to order me around like I’m nothing more than a pauper? Is this what old age has to offer me?”
“I know yer angry with me,” Fraser said. He kept his tone soft, low so no one could hear. “And, I have come to apologize to ye for the way I treated ye before.”
Helga huffed and turned away from him. “Is that all ye wish to say to me?” She shook her head. “Ye talked down to me in front of the village heads, in front of our men. Anger?” She scoffed. “I feel more than mere anger, Fraser.” Helga flashed her eyes up at him, and Fraser took a step back, recognizing the woman who had raised him in that tense gaze. She was alive under her shaking, pallid exterior. There was something left of her, after all. “I’m embarrassed. Yer my son, and yet ye spoke to me like I was a child being sent to bed without supper. Yer father never spoke to me in such a way. I expected ye of all people to follow in his footsteps.”
Fraser took her hand and squeezed it gently. He reminded himself he shouldn’t let himself go. She was still keeping secrets from him. He couldn’t trust her with what he knew despite how much he wished to share with her. Fraser missed this woman. He missed speaking freely with his mother, and he wanted to trust her, but he knew now was not the time.
“I apologize, Mother,” he said tenderly. “I deeply regret the way I spoke to ye. I worry for ye. I hope ye know that.” The truth of his words shook him. His mother was hiding secrets from him, but who knew what trouble she was in. Perhaps this man she had met with was threatening her. Perhaps she had reasons for keeping things from Fraser, reasons he may not understand.
His mother sighed, her gaze holding his while her hand tightened within his grasp. “I do, Fraser,” she whispered. “I worry for ye, as well. I only wish the best for ye, but things have been difficult as of late.”
“I will do everything within my power to right things.”
Helga smiled. Her other hand brushed his dark locks away from his face, and he leaned into her touch, happy to see the mother he knew once more. “I know ye will,” she said softly. “Yer so much like yer father.”
Fraser wished his father was here to aid him. He would have known what needed to be done. Fraser felt his father’s loss more now than he did before. “I know father’s death was a surprise.” Helga flinched, her gaze dropping to the stone at their feet. “I know how hard it has been for ye to keep strong. Let me shoulder some of yer pain. Ye don’t have to carry it on yer own.”
Tears prickled Fraser’s eyes as he watched his mother step away from him. Her hand went limp, and she pulled away, clutching her hand to her breast while she shook her head. “Aye, I must.”
“Mother,” said Fraser, trying to close the distance between them. He stopped when she lifted her hands; her eyes clamped closed while her jaw clenched. She was struggling with something. Fraser needed her to tell him what it was. Or who it was, but he didn’t know how to ask her without revealing his knowledge of his evil double.
With a sharp intake of breath, Helga’s eyes opened, and her hands dropped to her sides. She straightened herself, but her gaze did not reach his. “Ye must choose a date to wed Beitris. Now,” she added sternly, her hands fisting. “Dragging yer feet on the matter benefits nae one.”
Fraser’s mouth opened, wanting to ask why he needed to worry about such things when a whole village was burnt to the ground three days before. However, his mother picked up her skirts, turned on her heel, and rushed towards the opposite tower as fast as her feet would take her.
His mouth closed, and he watched his mother leave. It didn’t make sense to spend his time planning a wedding with a man burning villages and attacking Beitris on the loose. He needed to protect his people, to protect his bride.
Fraser’s brow furrowed in confusion. He turned his gaze out to the fields, watching women and children move between the tents. His mother was possibly more involved than he originally thought. It was the only explanation for how cold she was treating him and the insistence on his marriage. Perhaps his double was planning his next attack on his wedding day.
“My laird,” he heard Kenneth call from the staircase. Fraser turned to him, finding him entering through the small entrance of the tower. “Is everything alright?”
Fraser didn’t know how to answer that question. He felt thin, worn like a raggedy old shawl. Yet, nothing was wrong; nothing was happening to him currently. At least, not now. He needed to see Beitris, to know she was still safe. It was foolish to have Gavin and Kenneth following him around everywhere he went. Gavin could at least protect Beitris.
Without a word, he swiftly passed Kenneth and Gavin, stalking down the staircase. He didn’t know where he was going until finally he was standing outside Beitris’s chamber and knocking on her door.
“Beitris?” he called gently, grimacing at the worry lacing his tone.
There was no reply, which only made his insides grow cold and his skin prickle with fear. “Beitris?” he called again while knocking harder.
“She may be with the villagers, my laird,” came Gavin’s reassuring voice.
Fraser glanced in his direction, finding Gavin gazing at him calmly while Kenneth shuffled from side to side, equally worried.
“Why would she be with the villagers?” Fraser asked, his mouth feeling dry while his insides chilled.
Gavin grimaced, and Fraser knew he was not going to like his next words. “I know she has been tending to the children in the camps.”
“Why?” Fraser asked, his voice a near shout.
Fraser stalked past his guards.
“She gives them food,” Gavin called after him, “and reads to them.”
Fraser didn’t say anything. How could Gavin know and not say anything? How could he be guarding Fraser and leaving Beitris to her own devices? She was just as much of a target as him. Perhaps more, given the two times the double had kissed her forcefully.
Fraser’s movements were jerky. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. She shouldn’t be spending so much time outside the castle walls, Fraser thought while running down the stairs. He did not want to tell her what she could and couldn’t do, but already his double had attacked her two times. That man could be lurking anywhere, Fraser thought while stepping through the courtyard and out the gates. He could be waiting for her in the wood, waiting for a chance of her being alone so he could take her.
“Beitris!” Fraser called while approaching the camp.
He passed by several women hanging their soaked clothes up from strings attached to several tents. They turned to him with confused looks. He searched their faces, finding young and old, but none of them were his Beitris.
“Beitris!” he called again, his voice growing frantic.
Children ran past him, giggling while smacking sticks against each other. Fraser stopped, nearly tripping over them while he searched, finding several eyes watching them, but none belonging to Beitris.
“Excuse me, miss,” said Kenneth while approaching a woman cradling her child. “Do ye know of Beitris? Laird MacClery’s bride?”
The woman blinked up at him. “Aye, she was here not so long ago with the healer. A woman came asking for aid.”
“A woman?” Fraser shouted, nearly lunging towards her. “Did she take the guards? Is that why yer alone?”
The woman pursed her lips, looking skyward for a moment before meeting his gaze. “She took one guard; however, the others left.”
“Why?” Gavin asked, his tone laced with anger, yet he gazed at the woman kindly.
The woman shook her head. “They did not say, my laird.”
“Where did they go, miss?” Fraser asked, looking around and noticing Kenneth crouching low and peeking inside one tent. Why did Beitris leave? He wondered. If she was here now, he would yell at her for being so foolish. This could be a trap. His double could be lurking anywhere nearby.
“Apologies, my laird,” said the woman. “I do not know. I was caring for my father at the time she came, but I know they mustn’t have gone far.”
Fraser turned on his heel, running back towards the castle. He needed his horse. He would search the woods, the falls, all the lands until he found her. There would be no rock left unturned. He needed to find Beitris before something terrible happened to her.
“Fraser, wait!” Gavin shouted, his footsteps sounding from behind.
Fraser was done waiting. He wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing when Beitris could be taken or injured.
“My horse!” he shouted as soon as he was through the gates. “Give me my horse!”
“My laird!” he heard Scott shout, finding him leaving the barracks. “What has happened? Has he attacked?”
“Nae, ‘tis Beitris,” Fraser said while striding towards the stable master, snatching his reins from the man’s hands. “I can’t find her.”
“Perhaps—”
“Perhaps naething, Scott!” Fraser roared. “I can’t find her! Put a search party together. We must find her at once!”
Fraser didn’t look to see if Scott followed his orders. He swiftly mounted his horse, turning it toward the portcullis.
“Wait!” Scott called from behind. “Do not be foolish, Fraser. Wait for me to join ye. Ye can’t be riding out on yer own.”
Fraser scowled. His hands gripped the reins. He knew Scott was right. The double could be waiting in the wood, beyond the castle’s walls. He could be waiting for the right opportunity to attack. But every minute that passed was sentencing Beitris to the unknown. Fraser could imagine Beitris within the evil brigand’s grasp, struggling, demanding him to release her. Knowing she could be in pain made his insides ache and his whole body tremble with fear.
He needed to get to Beitris fast, for who knew what could happen to her.
