Highland Soldiers: The Enemy (17 page)

Duncan left out the part about how he had been out half the night playing cards with the guards at Greyfriars until his chance came. Well, technically it was not purely chance. He had learned a few things out at sea, one of which was how to play cards, and—he learned this the hard way—how to lose to a cheater. After one such game, having pulled his sgian dubh from his sock, Duncan offered the winner a choice: one involved the sharp edge of his sgian dubh; the other was to show him his card tricks.

At the time, it was not in Duncan’s mind to cheat others, but instead to detect when others tried to cheat him. When he came home and saw Mari, he could see no way around it. Callum could not have visitors—unless a guard looked the other way. But why would he? After what had happened to Callum, no one was willing to do any favors—unless they were forced. To that end, he could have scaled the wall and leapt down, sword in hand, interrupting their card game. Or he could join them and win. The only problem was that he had worked there with most of those lads, and he liked them. Except for that one Mackenzie. Cheating was the least a MacDonell could do to a Mackenzie. A deck of cards, a few drams, and a few hours later Mackenzie came up short. Duncan let him pay off his debt with a visit. He would go home, get some sleep, and return the next night when Mackenzie was on duty again.

*

Mari ran to the bedroom. She dipped a cloth into the water basin and pressed the damp cloth to her eyes. “Och! I look awful.”

“You look bonnie.”

She lifted her eyes to catch a soft smile of approval from Duncan. His gaze lingered only a moment before he offered his arm.

Mari took it, but released it with a gasp. “Wait!” She rushed to the window and retrieved her letter with the heart inside.

Duncan stood watching her, smiling. How long had it been since he had seen her so happy? He was glad to have done this for her. She donned her cloak and came close to him, lifting her eyes to meet his. The love shone from her eyes. Love for Callum.

“Duncan!” She smiled, amused by his distraction. Slipping her hand into his, she said, “Dinnae just stand there! Let’s go!” She headed for the door, tugging him along with her.

Dark clouds overhead matched the dismal gray stones of Greyfriars Kirkyard and kept it hidden from the sun and its warmth. The damp clung to the weather-streaked walls as though tears had been etched in the stone. Oak trees now bare for the winter waved misshapen limbs over frost-covered grass. A cruel wind that whipped up the hill from the sea caught Mari’s cloak. Duncan circled his arm about her, holding her close to shield her from the bitter wind’s bite. Along a curved path they hastened, past the dank gravestones and ominous mausoleums. At a tall iron gate, they came to a stop.

Mari looked up to Duncan as he gave the guard on duty a nod. The guard walked down a path between the open-air cells, past shadowy faces that peered out from the dark. Minutes later, at the far end of the walk, a prisoner rounded the corner and walked toward her.

She dared not hope it was Callum, and then as he drew near a small part of her wished it were not. His gait was too weary and uneven, and his back was bent over, made weaker by hunger and cold. He hurried as well as he could and reached through the bars. Unable to embrace, they grasped onto as much as the iron bars would allow. Duncan walked a ways down the sloped path to the street. There he leaned his shoulder against the thick trunk of an oak.

Callum touched Mari’s face and pressed his lips to her mouth. He kissed her, and kissed her again. When he stopped, he took in every feature, desperate to sear her into his memory. Callum rested his forehead against hers. His voice broke as he said, “My love. I cannot hold you like I would.”

Mari touched his beard. He inhaled as she trailed fingers down his strong neck to his collar. “You’re so cold.”

Callum lifted her chin with stiff and trembling fingers. “Mari.” His eyes swept over her face and he kissed her. His lips barely moved from her mouth as he whispered, “I’ve dreamt of your skin.” He slipped his hands inside her cloak to the warmth and the softness. “But for these bars, I would take you right here.”

“I would let you,” she whispered into his neck.

Brushing his mouth on her cheek, he circled her waist until the bars stopped him. Mari leaned her whole body against the cold iron bars, but he could not reach around. Instead, he slid his hands from her waist up her sides until he felt every curve with his palm. Mari sighed. Callum buried his face in her neck and moaned. She leaned her head down against his and said softly, “I’ll be here waiting until you come back.”

His head shot up, as he fiercely said, “No.” He took her face in his hands and looked sternly into her eyes. “If I am not back in a year, you must go on without me. I will not have you waste your life waiting for me.”

“You can say what you will, Callum MacDonell, but I’ll do as I please.”

“Och, Mari. If I have breath in me, I will come back to you. But if I dinnae—”

She put her fingers over his lips as she fought back her tears. “I’ll not hear it. Now you listen to me, we’ll talk no more of that.” Her tone softened. “I’ve brought you something.” She pulled the letter from beneath her neckline, where it had been pressed to her warm breast. Callum took the folded paper and held it to his lips. Mari watched and smiled warmly. “Dinnae read it now. Save it for later.”

“Mari.” He looked into her eyes, trying to memorize their softness and light. He would also remember their sorrow, and its weight on his heart.

Mari held his gaze as though she might hold onto him if looked hard enough. “You cannot be rid of me, so dinnae think that you can. If you will not come back to me, I will come find you.” She tried to sound strong, but she faltered.

She buried her face in his neck as he held her head gently. “I will come back. And I’ll take you home to the Highlands. We’ll drift in a boat across Loch Oich, while I look at your bonnie face. Then we’ll climb into a thicket of trees, where we’ll kiss until our knees buckle. And then I will touch every inch of your body with my hands and my mouth.” He gave her a deliberately piercing gaze that he knew would affect her, and then he grinned when it did, looking almost as though life were normal. Mari attempted a smile, but could not, so she hid her face in his chest. She could no longer hold back the tears.

He let her weep for a bit, and then in a deep voice that caught in his throat, he said, “Look at me, Mari. I want to memorize you.”

She lifted her face and studied him, too. “You’ll see me again in the daylight. I’ll be at the dock.”

“No, Mari. Not there.”

“I have to see you every moment I can.”

He spoke with his officer’s tone. “You will not go there.”

She answered in soft tones, touching his face. “Callum, I must see you again.”

He clenched his jaw to think of how low he had come, and angry for having to make it so plain. “I will not have your last memory of me be that of a weakened wretch walking in chains to a ship.”

The tears in her eyes caught the moonlight as she held his face until he looked into her eyes. “A braw warrior once found me when I was brought low, and he loved me in spite of it. And again, he came to me and lifted me up when I could not go on, and he carried me off on his horse. I will be with you every moment I’m able. And if you are low, I will lift you.”

“And carry me off on your horse? I would like to see that.”

“If I could, my fine Callum, I would, and you ken it.”

 “Aye, Mari, I do.”

They shared a smile and a kiss, and then she wiped her eyes. Flashing a brave smile that was nearly convincing, she said, “I’m very strong, ken? And I do have some help. Those lads never leave me alone.” With a crooked grin, she said under her breath, “They’re a bit of a nuisance, aye?” They smiled, knowing the truth of how much those men meant to them both.

The guard gripped Callum’s shoulder.

“No.” Mari’s soft plea came out in a whimper.

Callum held Mari close one last time as she gripped his coat collar. She took off her cloak and pushed it through the bars. He tried to resist, but she insisted. “You’re no good to me sick.”

Duncan put a supportive hand on Mari’s back. Callum exchanged glances with Duncan, and gave him a nod. Duncan stood behind Mari, holding her shoulders as Callum stepped back. Soon all Callum held was her hand, which Mari gripped tightly. Lifting her hand, he kissed her palm gently and released it as he turned away from her and walked away.

Mari whispered his name as she gripped the iron bars. He stopped once to look back before turning the corner.

Mari’s legs gave out beneath her. As she grasped Duncan’s arm, he scooped her up and carried her out to the street.

Mari awoke in the carriage, with Duncan’s strong arms shielding her from the cold and the sorrow.

When she stirred in his arms, Duncan said, “I’m taking you home.”

*

Mari awoke in the dark to find Duncan still sitting in a chair by her bed, where he had been since bringing her home. He had given her a cup of whisky to calm and warm her, which, with her exhaustion, brought her a few hours of sleep. When she opened her eyes, Duncan was sitting beside her, watching her closely. “I’m leaving now, darlin’.”

“Leaving? Where? What time is it?”

His brow creased for an instant, but he went on with little emotion. “It’s early. I’m shipping out to sea.”

“No, Duncan. Not now, please. We need you here.”

His gaze softened. “I’m sailing on the Crown.”

It took a moment for Mari to grasp it. “The Crown? Callum’s ship?”

“Aye.”

“Oh, Duncan!” She threw her arms about him. “Thank you! You’re a true friend to Callum.”

“Aye,” he said, with eyes now dark and remote.

“Take care of him, Duncan.” Mari leaned against him.

Duncan felt the soft breath of her words at the base of his neck. He inhaled the scent of her hair as he held her and stroked the silk strands at her shoulders, too aware of the thin cotton fabric between his coarse hands and her skin. “Aye, lass, I will.” He gripped her shoulders and pressed her away. With a kiss on the cheek and a brusqueness that startled her, he murmured, “Goodbye, Mari.” Turning his back to her wounded expression, he left without a glance backward.

Too stunned to reply, Mari watched with troubled eyes as he walked through the doorway. The latch clicked into place. “Goodbye, Duncan,” she whispered.

*

Mist clung like a shroud to the ships at the Leith Docks. The sun hid behind ashen clouds. Flanked by Alex and Charlie, Mari leaned against a building as the men huddled closely to shield her from the brutal North Sea wind. Menacing gusts brought smells of bilge water, fish and mildew as waves frothed and crashed on the docks.

Mari glanced at Hughie. He had been aloof all morning, riddled with guilt. He should have been in Callum’s place. Mari had tried to convince him that she did not blame him, but he blamed himself just the same. She blamed her brother, whom she had trusted and risked all to help. In return, he had escaped, putting himself above those whom she loved. He had to have known how his actions would hurt her and the others who had tried to help him. She blamed no one but Jamie.

Mari hooked her arm into Hughie’s and pulled him close to her side. He kept his eyes fixed on the ship as he swallowed back his emotions. “Hughie, this is what Callum wants. You cannot go against him.”

His emotions flooded to the surface. He could not face her. “Mari, I’m sorry.”

“Dinnae blame yourself. I do not. Neither does Callum.” He broke her heart. Mari leaned her head sideways to rest on Hughie’s shoulder. They clung together for several moments until Mari fought to rein in her feelings. She was determined to be strong for Callum.

“Mari. I cannot watch him board that ship knowing it should have been me.”

She gripped his arm as she steeled her gaze. “Yes you will. You will do it for Callum.”

Alex was first to notice how upset Hughie was, and the toll it was taking on Mari. He gave Charlie a nudge, and they watched for a moment. Charlie clapped a brotherly arm on Hughie’s shoulder. “Lad, do you think we could find a pub on these docks?” After dodging an old man pushing a handcart, he led Hughie away on their quest, leaving Mari with Alex.

Mari settled into melancholic silence, which Alex allowed for a while. But as fears for Callum darkened her eyes, Alex tried to distract her.

“I saw Duncan this morning. He asked me to tell you goodbye. He had something to do before boarding the ship.”

“Aye.” Mari was not surprised, but she was disappointed. “When Callum is gone, so is Duncan. You’ll think me a fool, but I wonder sometimes if Duncan dislikes me.”

“Och, Mari. He does not dislike you.”

“Well he certainly makes himself scarce.”

“Duncan is…Duncan. Pay him no heed.” He shrugged it off.

With a smile, Mari tried to do likewise. “I suppose you’re right. I’ve enough real problems. I dinnae need to invent more.” She clutched Alex’s arm and tried to grin. “I’m lucky to have you here to keep me from thinking too much.”

In an effort to cheer her, Alex said, “Oh, I keep you from thinking, do I? I dinnae ken what you mean. I’m a thinker. I’ll have you know that I’m thinking right now.”

“And a fine job you’re doing,” she said, trying to smile. “But it’s no use. I’ll not be cheered up.”

The sound of the leg irons and chains announced their approach as the prisoners ended their march from Greyfriars. Callum had told her not to come, but she needed to see him. It might make him angry at first to have his wishes disregarded, but Callum was in no position to argue the point. Mari hope he would be glad, after all, for one last chance to see her.

The two hundred and fifty-seven prisoners marched chained together in pairs in two lines. If one stopped it pulled on the other men’s chains, and grated the leg and neck irons against the others’ raw skin.

Mari rushed to Callum’s side. “Lass, I did not want you to see me like this.”

“I could not stay away.”

His eyes swept over her, committing to memory every feature and curve until the chains yanked him along.