The Blood Thistle Trilogy Book 1 Prologue

1310 Outside a Secluded Scottish Castle

Cold Scottish rain pierced my skin like the sharp needles used for binding war wounds so common to the Scottish rebels fighting for freedom against the English. Our breath rose before us as if they were puffs of smoke; as if the freezing air could sense the fury burning within me. We crouched in the wet brush outside the castle walls. This was it. After five years of tracking down the man who betrayed my father to the English, he was finally within my grasp. William Baillie, my best friend and father's right hand man, put a hand on my shoulder as if to say, "Wait for the opportune moment, Kelin."

I placed my hand on top of his as if to say, "I understand," but once my hand touched his, actually felt the warmth of his hand on mine, my reckless nature softened. This was the man who had helped me track him down, who stood next to me while I watched the English execute my father five years ago, who had watched me fall in love with another man, and who had helped me get through his death after the Battle of Falkirk.

Just then, Seamus McMillan, our scout, came running bent double to our hiding spot. There was a spatter of blood on his tunic and hands, and his sword was smeared with blood as if an artist had painted it on.

"Damn English scout. Had to slit the bastard's throat before he could raise the alarm," he said panting from the exertion.

"What did you find?" asked Baillie.

"Well, Kelin, you are your father's daughter because your rantings about exactly what you would do to him have reached his ears. The guards on the wall have been doubled since our last excursion here. All armed to the teeth with bows and arrows."

"Damn," I spat out. This was a set back.

"What about our inside man?" asked Baillie.

"I met up with the servant he sent out before I saw the scout. Poor boy. Seemed petrified with terror of what could happen to him," McMillan mused.

"And?" I asked impatiently.

"He says guards on the inside would need a huge scouting party, if not the entire Scottish rebel army, to penetrate the defenses if we have a hope of getting to him."

"Kelin, we can't risk the entire army just because you want vengeance for your father's death. Even if the Bruce were behind us on this matter we would be hard pressed to persuade them to follow you," said Baillie.

I sighed.

This was indeed a setback. I had met Robert the Bruce several years ago when I was little more than a teenager, and had since had occasion to speak with him several times. Although he had assured me several times over that he did support our cause for freedom, I could not help feeling slightly cautious towards him. He was a noble, in fact THE noble who was in line for the long elusive Scottish crown. However, my father had understood that the nobility was notorious for changing their loyalty. This has, after all, lead to his betrayal and execution by the English.

"Kelin!" McMillan's voice abruptly brought me back to reality, "What should we do?"

"We need to draw him out of the castle somehow," I said. "From there we should be able to gain entry to the castle. Once inside, I'll find him. And when I do, he is mine." I was surprised how calm my voice sounded, as if I were telling them to go to the market for food.

"Stirling Bridge?" McMillan asked referring to our battle strategy.

"Stirling Bridge," I replied. McMillan nodded and ran off to muster the men.

"Kelin," Baillie had stayed behind, "you do know it could be a trap. If that's the case you'd be leading our men to their deaths."

"I'm not asking all of them to come into the castle with me," I said defiantly, "McMillan knows to get my trusted few and have them meet up with me. They will accompany me into the castle."

"But, Kelin, we don't know how many men are inside the castle once the others leave it."

"From what I know of him, he'll keep his usual group with him. They too are dead," I said with a cold savagery that was foreign to me.

"What about the women, the children, and the servants who are innocent of blood? Your father would have spared them." Baillie knew he would win at least this argument. I nodded.

"The innocent will be spared and allowed to go where they please, but if any of them raise a hand against us, their fate will be the same as if they were on the field of battle." Again, there was that coldness in my voice.

"Kelin," Baillie's pleading tone gave me pause, "don't let your fury and desire for revenge eclipse your compassion for the innocent."

"Baillie, you have been my friend and confidant for years, and I respect your opinion. Don't abuse your position," I said irritably.

"Kelin, you have the love and support of our people, but if you continue in this manner you will lose that, and your father's death will have been in vain!"

This made me stop the retort on my tongue. He was right. I could not have my father's memory tarnished by anyone. He had given us a reason to fight, and he left me the task of carrying on his mission.

"You're right," I quietly relented. "Call off the hunt. He shall live to fight another day...for now."