The Scot's Spy by Keira Montclair

Author:Keira Montclair
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Published: 2020-04-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

When Emmalin awakened, she was seated on a bench in the courtyard, Bessie at her side with a cool cloth pressed to her forehead. She remembered now.

Alasdair and Dyna were dead. The sheriff was leading some men to bring their bodies home. What could have happened? Joya and Els had been with them, plus ten guards, but there’d been no sign of any of the others.

All of a sudden, she sat up. Where was John?

“Bessie, where’s John?”

Bessie stood up so fast, she nearly fell over. “I don’t know. The last I saw him, he was with the smithy, swinging his sword. I’m sure he’s here somewhere. He’s a normal rambunctious lad who took off in the chaos.”

Forcing herself to her feet, she called out, “John? John Alexander Grant. Where are you? Come to Mama right this minute.”

Nothing. A sick feeling traveled from her toes, through her gut, and up to her neck. “Bessie, go check on Ailith.”

“Right away.” Bessie hurried off toward the keep, and Emmalin continued to search for her son, heading to the smithy’s hut first. Chaos reigned everywhere, people sobbing and shouting and talking. But there was no sign of her wee lad.

“John? Where is John?” She had the sudden need to scream and stood in the middle of the courtyard and yelled, “Stop! Everyone stop what you’re doing.”

All her clanmates stopped to listen to her. “My son. Where is John? You must help me find him.”

A woman said, “The last I saw him, he was following you to the gates, my lady.”

“Oh, dear God in heaven, nay.” She ran toward the gates, shouting to the guards on the curtain wall. “Where’s John? Where’s my lad?”

“I haven’t seen him, my lady. If he tried to run out of the gates, we surely would have stopped him. He’s not out here. Perhaps he went back inside the keep.”

Emmalin pivoted in a circle, looking in every possible direction, tears flooding her cheek as she finally gave in to all that had happened. Alasdair was dead and her son was missing.

She wailed in front of her curtain wall, unable to see because her vision was blurred from the tears. A group of horses returned and she guessed they had to be the ones who’d been sent out to retrieve Alasdair’s body. One of them called out to her, and she cut herself off with a gasp. Her mind was playing cruel tricks on her because the voice that had called out to her sounded exactly like her husband.

She swiped the tears from her eyes as the lead horse drew closer to her.

“Emmalin? What’s wrong?”

“Alasdair? Alasdair? Is it truly you?” She’d lost her mind. That had to be it. She was so distraught that she was imagining things. Behind him came Dyna and five Grant guards, one of them injured. Her husband dismounted slowly and headed toward her, his gait hitching. He did indeed have an injured leg.

“They said you were dead.”

She ran to him, launching herself into his open arms and clinging to him, sobbing.

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