The Scot's Conflict (Highland Hunters Book 1) by Keira Montclair

Author:Keira Montclair [Montclair, Keira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Keira Montclair
Published: 2023-02-07T00:00:00+00:00

***

Isla woke up to darkness and an odd silence. Still tucked against Grif, she had to admit he’d been right about keeping each other warm. His body was like sleeping in front of a blazing hearth. She smiled when she thought of what they had shared, and she couldn’t wait to let Reyna know how enjoyable it had been.

But today she must focus on the mission. It was the middle of the night, and Grif’s easy breathing told her he was still asleep. But she’d heard something she did not like—a large troop of men was moving a short distance away.

Nearly certain it was the English garrison, she started to get up as quietly as she could.

But as soon as her foot moved, Grif’s voice whispered, “Where are ye goin’, sweeting?”

She glanced back at him. “To see if all that noise is coming from the English. Mayhap ’tis de Gray and his men who’ve arrived,” she whispered, wrapping the fur around her shoulders, rising to her feet, and peering through the trees. Thankfully there was enough moonlight to see the road and the flash of metal weapons and mail. “’Tis a good spot, this hill, giving us a bonny view of the gate to the town. The castle is hard to see from here, but the village entrance is right below our noses.”

Grif was sitting up, also studying the scene below. “Shite, yer right. ’Tis the English garrison. I can see a few knights in front in chain mail.”

He jumped to his feet and stood behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “God’s toes, ’tis a lot of men. I cannae see them all. Can ye take a guess at how many?”

“I’d say at least three score, but from here, I’m no’ sure. We should get closer.”

“Agreed. But how?”

They were at a good vantage point, able to see the disorderly columns of men as they trod through the gates. Some looked tired, clearly having walked half the night. King Robert and his men were on the opposite side of the castle, on the farthest side of the moat and the river, a good distance away. The Bruce’s strategy was wise. The Scots would never get through any of the gates with this many English guarding them.

“Meanwhile, excuse me a moment,” Grif said, heading into the forest behind them. “I suggest you do the same.”

She chuckled. Grif was awfully cute at times. Other times, fierce and handsome. But, it seemed, always practical. She headed into the bushes away from Grif, took care of her needs, then found the water jug, washing her hands and face, and swirling it in her mouth with the herbal paste her mother made to clean teeth. It wasnae the best tasting, but it was meant to be spit out.

Grif returned with a bucket of water, filled to the brim. “Here, so ye can freshen up. I’ll go back to the stream to give ye some privacy.”

“No need. ’Tis already done. Ye can refill the jug instead.

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