Highlander’s Evil Side by Shona Thompson

Chapter Twenty-Five

Fraser

Fraser urged his horse faster. He heard Scott’s horse’s hooves striking the path not far behind him. The sun had just risen, highlighting the dew glimmering on the blades of grass. Dark clouds hung low in the distance, threatening rain in the near future.

Two days had passed since the wedding was announced. Two days he had waited for an attack, for his bride to go missing, yet nothing had happened. The waiting was torturous, and Fraser could no longer sit idly by and do nothing. He needed to speak with the laird elders and had arranged to meet at an abandoned cottage at the MacClery borders. Fraser knew the cottage well. It was a place he had been with his father a time or two, when the elder laird wanted to speak in secret without the prying and curious gazes of the castle walls.

It should be safe, he assumed.

Lately, it was difficult for Fraser to put his faith in anyone. The only people he could trust were Scott, Kenneth, Gavin, and Beitris. Kenneth and Gavin were left at the castle. Taking more than Scott would look too suspicious, and Fraser wanted trustworthy guards ensuring Beitris’s safety while she prepared for their wedding day.

Rain drizzled from the sky, but Fraser could see the cottage not far away. Horses stood outside, grazing on grass. Crimson drapes concealed the windows, hiding whoever was inside.

“Are ye sure about this?” Fraser heard Scott shout from behind.

Fraser didn’t say anything. He urged his horse faster, needing to get there as soon as possible. The door to the cottage opened as they approached, and out stepped three laird elders, their worn and weary faces gazing up at him.

“About time,” grumbled one, Laird Hamilton, while rubbing his balding head. “Yer father never made us wait so long.”

“Ah, quiet ye,” said Laird Kennedy while smacking Laird Hamilton’s back. “He didn’t make ye wait long.”

Laird Douglas regarded Fraser quietly while leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He tugged at his greying red beard while Fraser dismounted. Scott glanced between the men, his hand hovering above his hilt.

“Have ye come alone?” Scott asked.

Laird Hamilton turned on his heel. “Aye, we came alone, laddie.”

Fraser followed them inside, feeling nervous as that ill-forsaken thought entered his mind once more. He didn’t know how to ask, knowing just saying the words would earn him looks filled with contempt. These were men his father had grown up with. They were men his father had worked hard to form alliances with. This question alone could destroy everything Fraser’s father worked hard for.

Was it really something he should ask?

Fraser had been asking himself that question for the past two days, and he knew if he didn’t discover the truth now, it would haunt him for the rest of his days. He watched the lairds take their seats at the table, their eyes fastened to him. Fraser remained standing while Scott moved to the corner, his fingers pushing the drapes to the side to peek outside.

“What is it, lad?” Laird Kennedy asked.

“Aye, lad, spit it out,” said Laird Hamilton. “We’re too old to be waiting all day.”

Fraser held his hands behind his back. He stood tall, refusing to give in to his nervousness. These men had known him since he was young. They would see him as a man this day.

“Foul things have been afoot at Dunnegan Castle,” started Fraser. “There is a man haunting my lands, destroying villages, and attacking my name. Many believe he shares my face.”

“And so ye have called us to hunt him down and slit his throat?” Laird Hamilton asked, sounding appalled.

“Nae, not at all,” said Fraser. “I have a question, yet I do not know how to ask it. It’s a horrid thing to ask, knowing the truth could destroy my father’s reputation, let alone my mother’s.”

“Then maybe it’s best not to ask it,” said Laird Hamilton sternly.

“But what if the answer is helpful?” Laird Kennedy said, his voice incredulous.

Laird Douglas leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms and saying nothing.

“I suppose, rather than asking, I would like to present a story, a possibility.” Fraser grimaced, trying to force his words from his mouth, yet they remained trapped within him. He cleared his throat and tried once more, speaking loud and clear, “I have heard of the ability to birth two babes within one night. ‘Tis not common, however possible.”

“Aye, it’s possible,” said Laird Kennedy, his gaze narrowing. “What’s yer point, lad?”

“He wishes to know if there is a possibility this man attacking his good name is a relation of his,” said Laird Douglas, earning the widening stares of Laird Hamilton and Kennedy. “A twin. A brother.”

Laird Hamilton gasped. “Why I- yer father- he would never!” Laird Hamilton slammed his fists onto the table, his gaze lit with anger while he sputtered. “Yer father was a good man. He would never rid himself of a child. He would never—”

“Enough, Hamilton,” said Laird Douglas while raising a hand. He slowly rose and strode towards Fraser, stopping a foot before him. “Yer father was a good man. Aye, he was hard and gruff at times but a good man. Yer father also knew what it meant to be laird.” Laird Douglas sighed. “That said, the MacClery Clan has not always been at peace. There has been strife within the lands, men fighting over the title of laird, villages being pillaged, and women being taken.” His gaze narrowed while he leaned towards Fraser. “I do not know of yer birth night. Only yer mother and whoever was with her that night would know. But, I do know this, yer father would do anything to keep the peace. Anything.”

Fraser’s breath faltered. He swallowed the lump in his throat. His legs wobbled underneath him. He couldn’t say anything. It couldn't be the truth. It was too shocking to believe. However, he did not know for sure yet. The man could still be someone else.

“If ye want to know the truth,” said Laird Douglas. “Then I would ask yer mother or her midwife.”

* * *

Fraser watched his guards practice in the courtyard. He had rushed back quickly to the castle after his meeting with the laird elders. The news of a possible twin had left him numb. He kept himself busy, focused on his men. He crossed his arms while he searched his men, wondering which pair Beitris had spoken with two days before when she had disappeared with Hamish. Beitris said one had a scar on his chin, and the other had long red hair, yet he did not know those men, and they were not in the courtyard.

Scott stood next to him, silent and watching. He had returned from questioning the soldiers watching the camps, yet none of them knew of such men. Ian fought in front of them. The boy was quick yet lacked technique. Fraser could see he would make a wonderful warrior. He would need to ensure Gavin and Kenneth groomed him. Talent like his shouldn’t be overlooked.

“Have ye questioned the men returning from the western village?” Fraser asked, not taking his eyes off Ian while he blocked an attack.

“Aye, I have; however, nae one knows of the pair Beitris spoke of.”

Scott ground his teeth. Something was in the air; he could feel it. It felt like the beginning of a battle. His insides were twisting themselves into a knot. His shoulders were tense; his hand kept drifting to his hilt. Something was going to happen, and soon.

Beitris shouldn’t be here. With that one thought, his gaze drifted up to her open window, scaling each and every stone, wondering if anyone could slip easily inside. He would need to speak to her about ensuring she locked her windows at night.

“Did ye speak with Ian?”

“Yesterday.” Scott’s sigh only heightened Fraser’s tension, his worry. “He told me it was the first time he had met the pair and that they seemed odd. They mostly kept to themselves. I spoke to the villagers, as well, and the women did not care for them. They also said it was their first time seeing the men.”

Fraser’s hands fisted. With men going in and out to help with the villagers, it was easy to overlook two men, easy to think they were villagers or soldiers. He would need to change the password to the gate, but he did not know if that would suffice. The castle was no longer safe.

Fraser stalked towards the keep, needing to move, do something. He felt as if everything was slipping through his fingers. The castle, the safety of his people, all of it became like water, and he was no longer able to grasp it, to contain the ongoing damage happening to the MacClery Clan.

His frown deepened as he entered the keep, finding servants running back and forth, carrying cloth and baskets full of greenery. Two days ago, he and Beitris had announced their wedding day, and though Fraser was happy to be wed to Beitris, he couldn’t stop the ache from seizing him, knowing that by her remaining with the castle’s walls, she was putting herself in danger.

“The hall looks nice,” said Scott while peeking beyond the door and looking inside. “It will be a nice wedding.”

“If it happens,” Fraser murmured while continuing towards the steps.

“If?” Scott called, confusion lacing his tone.

Fraser didn’t say anything more. He needed to get in his office, where the walls didn’t have ears or prying gazes. If two guards and his double were able to get beyond the gates, then who knew which of his people was gathering information against him. Looking around, he opened the door to his study and briskly stepped inside, keeping it open for Scott to follow him.

“What do ye mean if, Fraser?” Scott asked while dumping his body in the seat across from Fraser’s desk.

Fraser sighed while his fingertips grazed the desktop. “I plan to write Beitris’s father and have her sent with him.”

Scott frowned. “But it’s already been announced.”

Fraser nodded. “Aye, it has. I hope to lure the brigand from the shadows. I know he will attack during the wedding.”

“Won’t Beitris be upset? It’s not like ye to lie, Fraser.”

“It’s not safe here, Scott. I cannot put her life in any more danger than it already is.”

Scott opened his mouth, but whatever he wished to say was quickly swallowed by the knock at the door. “Enter,” Scott called while sitting, his hands braced on his desk while he watched Hamish appear in the open door.

“Ye wished to speak with me, my laird?” the elderly man asked while stroking his long beard.

“How long have ye been serving the MacClery Clan?” Fraser asked.

“All my life, my laird.”

“And ye were a healer at the castle before my father’s lairdship?”

Hamish’s head bobbed up and down. “Aye, I was, my laird. Yer father was hardly a man when I came to tend his family and those within the walls.”

“Were ye here for my birthing, Hamish?”

Fraser watched Hamish’s hand still, his body stiffen. His grasp tightened on his beard while he stared unblinkingly at Fraser. “Nae, I was not, my laird. I’m afraid I was away that night, and the midwife would have tended to yer mother, not I.”

“Do ye know of the midwife’s name?” Fraser regarded Hamish, noticing the tension in his back and his stark pallor. The man knew something, yet whatever it was, he did not wish to say.

He watched Hamish shake his head, his gaze lowering. “I fear not, my laird. It was so long ago, and my mind has grown feeble with age. Memories are hard to come by these days. ”

Fraser didn’t believe that. Hamish was hiding something. He wondered why he wasn’t curious by his questions. Wouldn’t he wonder why Fraser was asking?

“Is that all, my laird? I’m afraid I am quite busy this day. The villagers have need of me.”

Fraser smiled thinly. “But, of course, Hamish. Ye may go. Thank ye for taking the time to meet with me.”

“I apologize for not being of much help.”

“None at all.”

Fraser felt Scott’s gaze boring a hole in his face, yet he kept his attention fastened on the elderly man. He had never seen Hamish move so quickly. The man practically ran from the room as if there was a ghoul hiding within the study’s walls. Scott closed the door behind the healer and leaned against it, crossing his arms.

“Do ye think he was there? At yer birthing?”

Fraser shrugged. Even he did not know, but there was something very wrong with the idea of a nearly identical man running amuck on the MacClery lands. “I don’t know,” said Fraser.

Scott wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I suspect Hamish knows something.”

“Aye, I do, as well.”

Fraser’s gaze darkened as he thought of the man with his face, with his smile, with his eyes. It was easier for him to believe it was a changeling, but now, with the thought of having a secret brother, he wondered why he would come to Fraser now. Perhaps it truly was nothing but a suspicion. His mother would have said something, wouldn’t she? For Laird Douglas was right, his father would do anything to keep the peace, but Fraser knew his mother. She would never willingly give up a child.