Hannah Howell (10 page)

“Fine. Setting a name to things has never been my strength. There is something else ye can think on. Who was that man ye thought ye had seen before?”

She nodded. “I mean to remember. Sometimes the memory one finds elusive returns more easily if one doesna try so hard to grasp it. ’Tis the way I have found it to be.”

Revan held back a groan. “I willna press you on it anymore. Dinna get too comfortable, loving,” he murmured when she nestled against him. “I believe there is a place to camp not far from here. It has been a long time, but I did travel this way once or twice in the past.”

It was only a half hour later, or less, when they reached a clearing that was perfect for their campsite. A circle of stones about a shallow hollow in the ground was ample proof that other travelers had decided the same. The moment her feet touched the ground, Tess realized how weary she was. Revan handed her a blanket, flint, and tinder. After picking up a few sticks, she went to sit by the circle of stones to begin a fire.

As soon as he had tended to his horse, Revan joined her, bringing wood to feed the fire and make a spit to cook the fowl on. Tess slipped away into the surrounding thickets to see to her personal needs. She then used the water from his waterskin sparingly to lightly wash herself. By the time she was done and returned to sit by his side, the smell of the roasting birds was enough to make her stomach rumble noisily. She ignored Revan’s grin and had a small drink from his wineskin.

Tess soon decided that waiting for those birds to cook was the hardest thing she had ever done. When Revan finally pronounced them ready to eat, she feared disgracing herself, sure that she was so hungry she would forsake all good manners. One glance at the way Revan was devouring his share relieved her of that concern. They ate in silence, only occasionally exchanging a grin, as they made complete pigs of themselves. Tess did not think she had ever enjoyed a meal more.

“That was delicious,” she murmured as she tossed the last bone into the fire and used a little water to wash off her hands and face. “ ’Twas also very swinish of us.”

“Aye. After days of naught but porridge, I believe one is allowed such graceless gluttony.” Revan took the waterskin from her and also washed up.

“One certainly should be. In fact, I think it should be a law.”

“I shall mention it to the king when next I speak with him. Wine?” He offered her the wineskin.

“Thank ye.” She took a small sip, knowing their supply was dwindling, then handed it back to him. “I ken that days of deprivation may make my judgment questionable, but I dinna think I have ever tasted anything so fine, at least not since my cousin Tomas’s wedding.”

“Tomas?”

“Aye—Tomas Delgado Mackintyre.” When he grinned, she gave him a mock look of severe reprimand.

“Mackintyre, eh? Ye are kin to them, too?”

“Through Tomas’s marriage to a Mackintyre heiress, but that is all. He took the name Mackintyre, for there was property involved. ’Twas a grand feasting and such a gay time. Many people from the king’s court were there, for Tomas was well liked amongst the courtiers. ’Twas the last time I was amongst my father’s kinsmen. My parents died soon afterward. A storm and heavy flooding had weakened the bridge they rode over one night,” she murmured.

Lost in her memories, she was only faintly aware of Revan’s soft words of condolence and nodded absently in response to them. She could easily recall the handsome Tomas’s wedding. While she had romped with her younger cousins, her parents had visited with all their friends laughing and dancing as if it was their own wedding day. The images in her mind were painfully distinct. Tess could see her mother and father toasting the bride and groom, could hear them laugh at her uncle Comyn’s wry jokes, could see them standing with a tall, dark courtier who clapped her father on the back and flirted with her mother . . .

Tess froze as her mind clung to that image of the courtier. She saw him with increasing clarity. He was thin, almost too thin, and had hawklike features. It was, without question, the same man she had seen from the hillside. But at the wedding he had worn his colors, proclaiming his allegiances proudly with his dress.

“Oh, sweet Mary,” she whispered.

“Is something wrong, Tess?” Revan asked as he gently grasped her by the arm. “Ye have grown quite pale.”

“I ken why that man we saw today was so familiar.”

Revan gripped her by the shoulders and forced her to face him. “Ye ken his name?”

“Nay, not his name. He was at my cousin Tomas’s wedding. He was one of the courtiers.”

“Well, that need not be very dangerous. There are hundreds who linger about the king’s court. Some never even speak to James. Was he wearing any colors ye can recall or recognize? That would help.”

“Oh, aye, he wore his colors. He saw no need to hide who or what he was on that day. I fear this courtier could be most dangerous, Revan. He was dressed as one of the king’s own household guards.”

“Lord save us.” Revan took a full minute to overcome his shock. “Are ye certain, Tessa? Very certain?”

“Very certain. My uncle Comyn told me so himself. There is a Comyn or two so honored. Mayhaps he but does as ye and Simon—spies for the king.”

“I would pray that was so, but ’tis too unlikely. Simon and I were chosen not only for our skills.” He released her and ran a hand through his hair. “ ’Twas felt that, as mere knights in the king’s army, we wouldna have been as closely marked by his enemies as others within the court might have been.”

“Others such as the king’s own household guards.” She knew now why seeing that man with the traitors had alarmed her so.

“Aye—just so. This is dire news, indeed.”

“Mayhaps I am wrong.”

“I can hear in your voice that ye dinna believe that.”

“Nay, I dinna. I dinna wish it to be so, but the memory is too clear, too strong, to be denied. I can see him standing there, tall and reed thin, slapping Papa on the back and laughing at some jest. God’s tears, do ye think he was a traitor even then?”

“Nay, or the Douglases would have made use of him before now.”

“Can ye not guess at who he is? Ye are a king’s knight. Ye must ken many of those at his court.”

“Those at court are ever changing. It also takes a long while to gain any recognition or be drawn into the inner circle about King James. I wasna unseen, let us say, but I wasna embraced by all, either. Since my place was to wield my sword in James’s name, I was often from court as well. This position was going to draw me closer to the throne. Aye, I ken many at court, but those men who guard the king even in his privy chamber were still beyond my touch. I ken a few but”—he shrugged—“sadly I dinna ken that man. The few times I was drawn close to the king, the man must have been elsewhere.”

“Is all of that why ye could be so easily accused?”

“Mayhaps. But my name and that of my kinsmen was familiar in the court. And this last year even the king came to ken my face as well as my name.”

“What game could this man be playing, then?”

“There are many to choose from.” Revan absently poked at the fire with a stick. “There is one in particular that worries me the most.”

“And what is that?” she pressed.

He stared into the fire, lost in his thoughts. “That he is meant to kill the king. Even if the Douglases win the coming battle, they canna truly claim victory as long as James is alive. Ye dinna leave the rightful king alive when ye mean to grab and hold his throne.”

“Nor his heirs,” she whispered, terrified by the plot they may well have uncovered.

“Nay, nor his heirs. If this battle does come to pass and the Douglases appear to be losing it, what better way to turn it in their favor than by murdering the very man the opposing army fights for. It could turn a Douglas defeat into a victory. And if the Douglases win the battle, murder may still need to be done to secure the throne. Aye, murder seems the best reason for the

Douglases to enlist the loyalty of a man so close to the king.”

“He would also make a very good spy.”

“The best. He would be privy to a great deal of what is said, done, or planned by the king and his allies.”

“What are we to do?”

Revan grimaced and put his arm about her shoulders. “Just what we are doing now—trying to get to the king as swiftly as we are able. We can no longer excuse delay by claiming Simon kens all that we do.”

“ ’Tis certain they didna recognize us, then. If they had, they would have hunted us to the depths of Hell and beyond.”

“Aye, for they would ken that we might have recognized that man and would hie to the king with the news.” He kissed her cheek, then pulled away slightly. “Time for us to seek our bed. We need rest. These last two days have been exhausting ones, and those ahead will probably be equally as harried. ’Tis best if we catch all the sleep we can when we have the chance.”

She yanked off her boots, then laid down on the blanket. Revan did the same and spread a second blanket over them before tucking her up against him spoon fashion. It felt good, but her desire was sadly dimmed by her weariness. Revan made no overtures toward her, and she realized he was suffering in much the same way. Exhaustion was proving to be an excellent cure for passion.

“Dinna ye think we ought to keep a watch?” she asked even as she closed her eyes and prepared to go to sleep.

“Nay. Those men arena searching for us. Also, my horse is as good as any watchhound. It has been trained to warn me of any approach, and I have trained myself to wake at his slightest sound. ’Tis why I tether it so nearby despite how it befouls our campsite. The beast can scent or hear a man ere I could ever see him.”

“Yet ye dinna even grace the poor beast with a proud name.”

“Ye are right. ’Tis shameful. But, there is little time for that game now. We have a much darker one to play, one whose outcome could change the fate of all Scotland.”

Tess huddled closer to Revan. She did not like to think of the treacherous game they were caught in. She especially did not like to think of what they could face if they lost. It was only when Revan was so close that she could find the strength to believe that they could win.

It was not easy, but Tess resisted the urge to kick the calmly grazing horse as she paced around him. After only two and a half days of trouble-free travel, the horse had thrown a shoe. It was not the animal’s fault, but there was no one else to take her ill-temper out on. Fate held a snare for her and Revan at every turn.

Not only did this delay threaten their mission, but she was on her own with the placidly munching horse. Revan had left her concealed in the wood while he had gone on ahead to the village she could just glimpse through the trees. He wanted to be sure that none of his enemies were in the village and that there was a blacksmith who could tend to his horse with speed and skill. His only instructions to her had been for her to wait until nightfall and, if he did not return, to try and find her way to her father’s kinsmen. She did not find his parting words very comforting.

She tensed, stepping a little closer to the edge of the wood, as she espied someone emerging from the village. It was a moment or two before she was certain it was Revan trotting toward her. Tess sagged a little with relief, then fought the urge to go out and meet him or to call to him. He seemed unconcerned, but she was not certain.

The moment he stood before her, she asked, “Is it safe?”

“Aye, safe enough. There doesna appear to be anyone in the village whom I recognize or who recognized me.”

He took up his horse’s reins, then held out his other hand to her. She hesitated a moment before putting her hand in his and letting him tug her along as he headed back toward the village. In the village she could get a hot bath and a hearty meal, perhaps even a decent bed for the night. Unfortunately, she and Revan would also be seen by far too many people. She did not like it. Neither did she like marching into the place still dressed as scandalously as she was in her lad’s clothing. Sensing Revan staring at her, she warily met his gaze.

“I am not very pleased about this either, but Horse needs the services of a blacksmith, and the blacksmith is in the village,” he said.

Tess sighed and nodded. “I ken it. Are we to stay the night?”

“Aye, I have found us a room at the inn.”

“A room all to ourselves?”

“All to ourselves. I thought it a wee bit grand myself for such a wee town, but the innkeeper claims many a fine gentleman wends his way through the village.” He winked at her. “In fact, he said the Douglas himself even stops there now and again.”

“So, ’tis a Douglas village. That doesna make me very happy.”

“I, too, wish we could have gotten out of the Douglas’s lands ere we entered any village, but need forces us to risk it. Whilst I have my horse tended to, ye can fetch us some supplies.” Releasing her hand, he unhitched his purse from his belt and handed it to her. “We dinna need too much, for we should reach my brother Nairn in two or three days. We can resupply there ere we travel on to your uncle Comyn.”

She faltered slightly, surprised into a brief clumsiness, and gaped at him. “When did ye decide we would go there?”

“Truth tell, when we met with Simon. He assured me that they could be trusted.”

“My assurance wasna enough?” Tess felt both insulted and a little hurt.

“Well—nay. They are your kinsmen. Ye could be blind to a lot concerning them and their loyalties.” He could tell by the look on her face that his words had stung, and he tried to soothe that. “Ye didna think your uncle Thurkettle was a traitor, did ye?”

“Nay.” He had made a telling point, and she calmed down a little. “But I wasna too surprised, either. The knowledge was there, I just hadna brought myself to accept it yet. With my father’s kinsmen I dinna think I would ever believe it of them, not until I saw one of them actually plunge a dagger into the king’s heart.”

“I had guessed as much, which was one reason I felt I needed another to vouch for them.”

“Aye, I suppose the tangle we are caught up in requires such caution.”

He took her by the hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “It does—if only for our own safety. Now, after ye buy the supplies we need, ye are to try and find yourself another outfit of lad’s clothing. Forced to twist and turn over the countryside as we are, we still have a long journey ahead of us. ’Twould be best if ye can play the lad as well as is possible. We dinna draw quite so much attention to ourselves that way.” He waited as she paused to tuck her braid up into her cap.

“ ’Tis scandalous,” she murmured as he took her by the hand again, and they started across a heather-covered field that bordered the tiny village. “And I think it may be against church law.”

“I believe ye will have no trouble gaining absolution. After all, ye sin in service to the king.”

“And that makes it all right, does it?”

“Well, ’twill ease the penance asked of you.”

She wanted to ask if the penance she would pay for bedding down with him could be eased as well, but bit back the words. It would begin a discussion she was not prepared for, or, worse, bring a response from him that would cut her deeply. Instead, Tess concentrated on the sight of the heather in bloom all around them. There was pleasure to be found in that sign of warmer weather.

They were barely inside the confines of the village when Revan released her hand, gave her the wineskin to be filled, and told her, “The inn is on the market square just ahead. Tell the innkeeper ye are with Wallace Frazer.”

“Wallace Frazer?” She grimaced. “Could ye not think of another name?” She looked at him. “It doesna really suit you, either.”

“ ’Tis a good common name that no one will question.”

“I suppose one canna expect much from a man who canna even name his own horse.”

Revan gave her a mock scowl, then nudged her toward the market center prominently marked by the large common well. “Enough of your impertinence. I shall join ye at the inn as soon as I am able.” He turned to the left to urge his mount toward the blacksmith shop set at the very edge of the village.

Tess took a deep breath to try and banish her nervousness and walked on alone. A woman paused in scrubbing her threshold stone to stare at her—hard—and Tess inwardly grimaced. When the woman suddenly gaped, Tess knew her thin disguise had been penetrated already. She could only pray that most of the other villagers were either too blind or too busy to notice. If not, there would be a stir which none of Revan’s sweet talk or “good common names” could settle.

She hurried from shop to shop collecting supplies. The way the merchants stared at her made her even more inclined to hurry. As she stepped into the mercer’s, however, she knew she would linger a while. He had a surprisingly good selection of clothing bought from those either too wasteful to reuse it or from ones who needed what little coin he would offer. She found a full set of lad’s clothes, although the doublet was painfully dull, being of a brownish hue and having had all the fine trim removed.

Her greatest find was a lady’s gown of a rich blue that was only slightly faded. It was a little dated, with short sleeves and a tight laced bodice, but the linen underdress was still with it. As she gathered it up, she could almost hear Brenda shriek in dismay over the fact that her cousin would dare to wear some merchant’s wife’s gown, but Tess ignored the image. She also ignored the instinct that told her Revan had not intended her to spend his coin on such things. He had not ordered her one way or the other in the matter.

After bickering with the mercer until she got a reasonable price, Tess hurried away with her new purchases. She made her way to the small inn with a nervous eagerness. The overweight innkeeper showed her to the room with no hesitation until she asked for a hot bath to be prepared for her. He shook his head as he left, clearly of the opinion that taking a hot bath was far stranger than a lass wandering about dressed as a lad, something Tess knew he had guessed at once. Tess shrugged and set out her new clothes. She could not wait to show Revan how she could look when dressed as a lady ought to be dressed.

Revan grinned as he watched the innkeeper waddle away. The man had shrugged off the strange puzzle of a knight wandering the countryside with a girl dressed like a boy. However, the hot bath Tess had asked for had the poor fellow questioning Tess’s sanity.

Revan sprawled more comfortably on his bench, resting his back against the cool stone wall. The innkeeper had been as shocked as the blacksmith had been when Revan had used one of his huge vats to wash in. Tess had done exactly as he had thought she would, so he had decided to bathe elsewhere before joining her. It was evident, however, that the villagers held the common belief that immersing one’s body in water was a sure way to catch the ague and die. He had worried that Tess’s scandalous attire, a thin disguise seen through by many, could make them too well remembered, but it was clear that their penchant for cleanliness had overridden that. Revan chuckled again and sipped his ale.

“Ah, Revan, my gallant stallion. It has been a very long time.”

The sultry voice speaking his true name startled Revan so he choked slightly on his ale and abruptly sat up straight. He stared at the buxom brunette leaning against the small rough table in front of him and struggled not to reveal his horror. The very last thing he could afford at this time was to be recognized. As he forced a smile for her, he tried to think of a way to make her hold her silence.

“Mary, what are ye doing here? The last time I set eyes upon you, ye were living in Edinburgh.”

“Aye, but there was a wee bit of trouble, and my protector took to wife a very jealous lass.” She reached out to thread her fingers through his still damp hair. “This poor spot is where I was born. I came home for a time.” Mary trailed a finger over his cheek as she leaned forward, allowing her low neckline to gape open. “Ye canna ken how very pleased I am to see you again. I have been stranded here for months with naught to entertain me save farmers and drovers.”

Revan grunted in surprise when she settled herself upon his lap and wrapped her arms about his neck. Her kiss was one of skilled passion. It did nothing for him. The narrow-eyed look she gave him when she pulled away told him she not only had sensed his complete disinterest but was infuriated by it. He struggled to think of a way to soothe that anger. Revan recalled that Mary could be as wild in her fury as she was in a bedchamber. She felt insulted, and that could make her very dangerous.

“ ’Tis good to see that ye are well, Mary,” he said as he gently set her away from him.

“Is it? Ye dinna seem too pleased to me. I remember when—”

“I remember it as well,” he said hastily, “but ’twas six months ago or more. My life has taken a new turn since then. I have a new lover.”

“Do ye mean that wee brown lass dressed as a boy?” She stood before him, her fists planted firmly upon her full hips. “Ye would choose that skinny, flesh-bare child over me?”

It was hard for Revan to soften his words. Her disparaging remarks about Tess infuriated him. He looked at the full-curved Mary and felt no desire. Her scent was one of heavy perfume poorly disguising the aroma of rarely washed clothes and skin. She had more for a man to hold on to, but Revan could not remember a single time when she had fit in his hold as perfectly as Tess did. Mary had skill and a hunger to satisfy many men, but Revan no longer counted himself one of those. The way she glared at him made him realize his less than charitable thoughts were being reflected in his face.

“ ’Tis the way of it, Mary. I owe you no explanation.” He immediately saw that he had taken the wrong tack with the woman.

“We were lovers. I gave myself to you.”

Since he was caught up in the argument already, he decided to see it through. “Ye were well paid for that ‘giving.’ ” He swiftly finished off his ale, slammed the dented tankard down onto the table, and stood up. “I have no need for a lover now. Ye demean yourself by pressing the matter. Find yourself a man with the will and the purse to pay for it.”

Mary slipped her arms around his neck and rubbed her body against his. “Faithfulness is very admirable, Sir Halyard, but ye shouldna allow it to steal all pleasure from your life.”

“I wouldna practice faithfulness if it didna pleasure me. I am not so unselfish.” He tugged free of her hold and grasped her tightly by the arms. “Now, heed me, my fair Mary,” he said, making his voice cold. “While I abide here, I am not Sir Halyard but Wallace Frazer, a common man-at-arms. Ye best recall that upon what few occasions ye may need to address me. Ye will also forget my companion. I had none with me should any ask. Ye will do as I command, or ye will forfeit that beauty ye use to ply such a fine living.” Despite the way she glared at him, he saw the hint of fear in her eyes and believed his warning would be heeded.

“Ye ask a great deal of me, yet I see no profit in obedience.” She yanked free of his grip and rubbed her arms.

With a soft curse Revan extracted a few coins from his pocket and thrust them into her hand. “There, woman. Ye are now better paid to hold your tongue than ye ever have been for your reputed charms.”