Highland Magic (32 page)

Daniel stepped in front of his brother and
held the door open for him. “Make haste, for ‘tis plain we may be
about to hear the terms of siege,” he said in a low voice.

Bao gave him a short nod of understanding and
continued on through the doorway.

When Daniel realized Alyson and David were
directly behind him, he took Alyson by the elbow and escorted her
and the lad out of the chapel as far as the steps then hurried back
inside.

“This letter advises that Gaiallard de
Montfort is legally betrothed to one Branwenn verch Gryffyd,
otherwise known as Branwenn Maclean, daughter to Gryffyd Duy ap
Kenneric and Gwenllian wreic Gryffyd of Penhros,” the Bishop
explained to Chalmers.

Chalmers unrolled the scroll and studied it
for long minutes. Reys came up behind his shoulder and Chalmers
lifted the document up a bit so that Reys could better peruse the
thing. “What think you? Could it be forgery?” Chalmers asked
softly.

Reys shook his head and lifted one shoulder
in a quick shrug. “I know not. It could be—or, it could be
genuine.”

Chalmers turned back to the Bishop. “How did
you get this?”

“I was given it by the Norman knight standing
at the door. He came to my bishopric in Dunkeld late last night and
asked that I do all that I could to stop this illegal wedding from
taking place.”

Gaiallard, having heard his name spoken, as
well as all the questions attached, strode forward. When he was
several paces from Chalmers, he said, “I assure you, that is no
forgery. King John has overridden my uncle’s decree that all has
been settled with Reys ap Gryffyd’s marriage to my sister, and has
assured me that I will receive all that was promised me when I
bring Branwenn home as my wife.”

“But, the two have already had the civil
ceremony, not an hour past, on the steps of the chapel,” Daniel
said. “They’ve given their consent in front of the clan, the
bride’s ring has been placed on her hand, and the land and monies
to be exchanged have been openly promised before witnesses. ‘Tis
only the blessing of the priest that has yet to be performed.” He
turned his eye on Gaiallard. “My sister and Callum are wed, mayhap
not in the eyes of the church, but certainly in the eyes of the
law.”

“Yes, and I shall dispute that in the
Scottish king’s court, should you force me to take the matter that
far.”

“Aye, and the church will not bless the match
until we hear the verdict of the king in the matter,” the Bishop
warned.

Pointing to the scroll, Reys asked Gaiallard,
“And, what has my cousin to say about this?”

“I assure you, he is in full agreement of any
alliance he can make to further his power in Cambria. And with King
John behind this match, he has no argument.”

Callum stepped forward. “But, you see, I
do.”

Gaiallard turned to face
him. “Ah, the thwarted bridegroom. And, what, pray, do you intend
to
do
about
it?”

“Fight you to the death, of course. Here.
Now.” For ‘twas not just his heart’s survival for which he’d be
fighting, but also the deep-seated need to rid this world of at
least one of the deviants that would dare force himself upon a
bairn—and this one had touched his own sister! An image of Lara
flashed in his mind. Aye, Lara, he was convinced more than ever,
had been ruined by such a one as this.

Gaiallard crossed his arms over his chest and
scanned his eyes from Callum’s head to his feet. He snorted,
clearly finding a lack in what he saw. “‘Tis a good plan, as I’m in
need of a bit of exercise before my wedding night.”

Callum roared. “To the lists!” he commanded
and took a step forward.

“Callum!” his grandmother exclaimed. She rose
from her seat and hurried to stand in front of him. “Do not act in
haste now,” she warned. “‘Tis passion talking, not reason. You’ve a
daughter, have you forgotten?”

Callum looked at her for a
long moment his shoulders rising and falling rapidly with the heavy
breaths he took. “Aye, and she’s about to lose her mother to a
Norman
swine
.” He
took hold of his grandmother’s hand and squeezed it. “Branwenn
cannot be allowed to go back with him, no matter what that missive
states.”

Lady Maclean nodded. “Aye, you are right.”
She turned and walked over to where her daughter was standing and
took hold of her hand. Jesslyn and Maryn stood up as well and moved
to stand with the other two women.

“Are we to meet on the field, or has the lady
convinced you otherwise?” Gaiallard said to Callum.

Callum’s eyes narrowed. Daniel and Reys moved
to stand behind him, their arms crossed over their chests and their
expressions set in a determined mien. “Aye, we will meet. Let God
decide.”

“But two days hence,” the Bishop rushed to
say. “For the two of you must have a day of fasting and prayer—and
you must give your confessions as well—before meeting in mortal
combat. Now, the terms must be written and signed.”

* * *

Branwenn woke to the feel of a cool, damp
cloth stroking lightly across her brow and cheek. She opened her
eyes and looked directly into those of her betrothed—or was it
husband? They’d said their vows, just not had the Priest’s
blessing, nor repeated them in the chapel.

“How are you feeling?” Callum asked
gently.

“Well, I think.” Her eyes widened and she
tried to sit up, saying, “Where is Gaiallard?!”

Callum pressed her back onto the pillow.
“Sshhh. Fret not, for he is no threat to us. I swear this to you,
my love. He is at the Gordon’s holding. Laird Gordon has agreed to
house the bastard until two days hence when we meet on the lists
and decide this thing for good.”

“What mean you, ‘meet on the lists?’”
Branwenn sucked in her breath and sat up once more. “Callum!” She
thrust his hands away when he tried to settle her again. “Has he
challenged you to a trial by combat? Do not do it, I beg you!”

Callum lifted her tensed hand and brought it
to his mouth. Softly, he kissed each fingertip before finally
answering her. “‘Twas I who challenged him, my love. ‘Tis the only
way to be rid of him, I trow, else he’s set to challenge our union
at our King William’s court with a letter he holds signed by King
John of England.”

“Let him challenge it! At least you will not
risk your life.”

“Branwenn,” Callum chided gently, “you, who
lived in Perth, so close to the court for many years, must know
this could bode very ill for us, if our king should be of a mood to
yield to him in order to better the alliance between us and
England.”

She shrugged, keeping her gaze on their
clasped hands.

“Do you not see? This is a noble challenge,
one that neither king will dispute—for, in the end, ‘twill be God
who decides the day.”

She threw her arms around his neck and held
tight. “Do not die, I beg you.”

“I shall not, this I swear. God will not
forsake me.”

After a moment, he pulled back and brushed
away the damp tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “Meet me in
the cave tonight, after the chimes of midnight have rung.”

She nodded.

He took one of the keys from around his neck
and gave it to her. Holding her face in his hands once more, he
leaned down and kissed her mouth. “I love you. You are mine, never
forget that,” he said after a moment, resting his forehead against
her own.

“Aye. I’m yours. Oh, Callum! I love you,
too!”

* * *

Alyson slipped the folded piece of parchment
from its hiding place inside the sleeve of her gown. A servant had
given it to her as she was leaving the great hall. She’d thought it
a note from Reys, but when she saw her name, written in the
familiar hand of her brother, scratched across the front, she’d
tucked it into her sleeve and made haste to her bedchamber. With
trembling fingers, she opened first one end and then the other
before turning it so that the lettering was right-side up.

“
My dearest
sister,”
it began.

“
Do not believe that you have escaped from
our little games so easily, for there’s much I’ve yet to teach and
much you’ve yet to learn.

“
As I told you so often in my previous
letters, I do not take kindly to those who thwart me. But you are
lucky, little one. For I’ve a taste for you that has yet to be
quenched and so, you see, I cannot yet destroy you as had been my
first inclination.”

Alyson’s hands began to shake so
uncontrollably that the writing became blurred. “Oh, God. Oh, God,”
she whispered. ‘Twas a prayer. She numbly turned and laid the
letter down on top of the bed and leaned over it, continuing to
read.

“
Did you know that I saw you and Reys that
morn at the edge of the wood? I thought I’d stumbled upon a lovers’
tryst, but ‘twas only some dull maneuvering of clothing—you must
enlighten me on that tidbit the next we meet.

“
Has the troubadour not had" you yet,
then, my little dove? Not heard your cries and whimpers as he fucks
you noisily in the dark of the night?

“
Do you miss me, then?”

She shuddered. “No! Never!”

“
Earlier, when I saw you in the chapel, so
frightened to look me in the eye, my blood raged to have you
beneath me, as we used to do. Oh how I enjoyed those battles we had
before you at last surrendered to me.”

Her eyes pooled with tears
and she bit her trembling lip until she tasted blood. A visceral
memory of the pain he’d caused her each time he’d taken her by
force made her womb burn in reaction.
I
hate you,
she thought.

“
And, once I’ve gotten this nuisance of a
wedding out of the way with the black-haired whelp, then ‘twill not
be long before we can begin again where we last were. Will you not
like that, dear one?

“
Did you know that there
is also a demand in King John’s letter that you bear your husband
an heir within a year of your wedding, else the contract shall be
annulled,
” “Godamercy!” she said,
lifting her eyes to stare blankly a moment at the wall in front of
her. Then, compelled to read further, she lowered her eyes once
more to the letter and continued reading:
“and you will be given back to me, your guardian
brother?”
“NO! Reys will never let that
happen,” she cried.
“I’m sure ‘twas this,
more than the matter regarding his sister, that sent your husband
to his cousin in such haste, for you came with quite an estate
attached, did you not? And, lest you are of an inclination to
believe the letter a forgery, I assure you, ‘tis not.

“
Let us speak of this face-to-face. Meet
me at midnight tonight at the boulder you hid behind that day near
the wood.”

And ‘twas signed,
“Your ‘loving’ brother, Gaiallard”

* * *

“Aye, ‘tis a sad day indeed.” Lady Maclean
said softly on a sigh. She and her daughter, as well as Maryn,
Jesslyn and Alyson, were seated in the solar. Their tapestries and
other sewing were settled on their laps, but none of them had put a
stitch in any of their projects in many long minutes.

“Callum will win,” Maryn said. “He’s been
training with Daniel and Bao for two moons now—and he was already
so skilled.”

“Yes,” Alyson said softly, “he will win.” For
she had a plan, a plan that had been brewing in her mind since
she’d first read the letter from her detestable, wicked brother
earlier. No matter what, Gaiallard would not win that trial.

“Aye, I pray you are right,” Maggie said
thickly. Her eyes were red and puffy from the tears she’d been
shedding since Callum gave Gaiallard the challenge. “But, the
bairns....”

“Bao and I want to take them with us to
raise, Maggie. If...,” Jesslyn said softly, unable to finish the
thought. “Bao is going to speak to Callum about it later.”

Maggie smiled sadly. “You are a dear lass,
Jesslyn.”

“Hardly a lass, m’lady,” Jesslyn said, “as
I’ve two bairns, buried one husband and wed another.”

Maggie patted her hand. “Aye, but you are
still so young—I cannot think of any of you young ones as anything
but lasses and lads!”

“‘Tis glad I am that Bao will ease Callum’s
mind about the future of his bairns, should he not survive the
trial,” Lady Maclean said. “For, ‘tis not uncommon for a warrior to
have the burden of worry so heavy upon him that he makes mistakes
in his judgments on the battlefield—and loses his life.”

“Oh, Lord, I had not thought of that,
Grandmother Maclean!” Maryn said. “But, you are right. Daniel has
told me stories of men he’s trained or gone into battle with who
have been given news of home—whether good or bad—just before a
battle begins, and they are so distracted by it, that they make
mistakes they normally would not have made and are either maimed or
killed because of it.”

Branwenn leaned against the wall, just
outside the door of the solar and gnawed on her knuckles. She’d
heard the entire exchange and now there was more for her to ponder
and worry over. After a moment, she whirled and fled back up the
stairs to her chamber.

* * *

Branwenn chewed on her bottom lip as she
paced back and forth in her bedchamber a quarter-hour later. Then,
as if that nibbling could not stem the crushing dread in her soul,
she began gnawing at the fingernail on her right thumb.

What was she to do? Should she tell Callum of
their babe this eve, as had been her plan since discovering the
blessed state two morns past? Or, would that worry his mind to such
a degree that he might lose the battle against Gaiallard? Oh, God!
What if it did—what if he died because she’d given him yet another
worry to think on when he needed to concentrate on winning against
Gaiallard?