Kara Griffin - Gunn Guardsmen (2 page)

Alexander sighed at the thoughts riddling his mind with pain. It was not to be. Why would he be honored to be wedded to the fairest lass in the land? The anguish of that loss encased his heart and tore at his soul. His bonny lass had been cut down like a boar in a slaughter, crushed to the ground by his now cursed enemy Domhnall. The light of his life was snuffed out and was replaced with darkness, a merciless vigilance that would stay with him until the end of his days.

Drops of cold hard rain began falling on the faces of the mourners, and yet he felt nothing but the unbearable loss of his beloved. He glanced at the other members of Mauri’s burial party, that of her parents and her older brother lying on their pallets, ready to join the sacred hereafter. Her twin sister, Elisa, was fortunate to have escaped with her life. Though he knew not where she was. And even as he looked at the mourners, suppressing the urge to let tears fall, trying to locate her, his thoughts returned to his beloved. She would not want him to hold such vengeance, yet he could do nothing more than atone this dastardly deed.

After the last body was placed in the ground and the last prayers spoken, the MacQuarrie clan began dispersing. Alexander stood numb, content to wait until he could see Mauri no more and the last rock placed with the greatest of care atop the fresh mound of dirt.

“Your grace, I received a missive,” Thom, his man-at-arms, and closest comrade said as he approached.

“Have you word from mac Raghnaill? How does he defend this atrocity?” Alexander stepped next to him and began the long walk up the hill to the walls of the village. The wind hampered him from taking great strides and rain soaked his already sodden garments.

“Nay, I’ve word from Edinburgh. The king calls you home. You must put aside this cosh with Domhnall mac Raghnaill for now.”

“My father is the very reason this cosh began. If mac Raghnaill wants the coastal lands, he needs wrest them from my hands.” The fury of the rift stiffened his body. “He will not have lands or the crown he covets, that I vow.”

“One day, you shall wrest them back from him. All you need is an army, a large one.” Thom stepped lively to keep up with the tall, angry, lord, for even though Alexander slowed his gait, his strides much longer than his. “I’ve been given a missive to give to you, my lord. I was concerned of what it speaks … Aye, I took liberty and read it and it will anger you.” He held out the rolled parchment and stopped, waiting to see if the lord would take it.

“It is from the interloper, himself?”

Thom nodded. “I was standing by the guardsmen at the village entrance when a young lad approached with it. He ran off before I could ask him who gave it to him. Read it, my lord.”

Alexander caressed the carefully written words with his eyes, disbelieving what was said.

“He says you are condemned to a life of misery for he has taken your love and the banner you boasted of. Domhnall is nothing but a bastard son of a …”

“Aye, I can read, Thom. The swine does not realize his error, for my love lies hither in yonder ground. I should not have mentioned Mauri, but my lips were loose with drink that night. I considered him to be a fair man, a man of honor, yet he is not.”

But Thom wouldn’t let the mention of the lass go and was like a wolfhound with a soup bone, unrelenting. “Who has he taken then? If he hasn’t taken your love … some unfortunate lass is being held.”

“It is of no consequence to me, Thom. For no one else matted to me as Mauri.” Those words sunk in and Alexander wanted to spit to rid his mouth of the foul taste.

“What of the pinsel she sewed for you, the banner. Remember what she said? ‘In these stitches are sewn the good graces that will weave around you when you carry this banner.’ Are ye not worried to lose such favor of grace now that Domhnall has taken the banner?” Tom scuffed the ground with his boot, and Alexander knew he didn’t want to bring up such foreboding. A superstitious lot, none in Scotland would deny any such fate lest they endure hardship all their days.

“’Tis just a pinsel that Mauri sewed, it was a miniature one that she wanted me to keep inside my tunic. She said to protect me. I know not how it would’ve protected me. It couldn’t have been more than my foot’s length. I will not hold such a belief, Thom, ‘twas just foolhardy nonsense.”

Thom continued to bait him, “So you test the fates? A brave man ye are, my lord, aye destined to be king and yet you stare lady luck in the eyes. Mayhap Domhnall has taken Mauri’s sister, the fair Elisa? She wasn’t at the burial and they look much alike. Do you deem he mistook her? We should retrieve her. She is your sister-in-law.”

“Mayhap he did mistake her. Was to be, she was to be my sister-in-law, Thom, but alas she is nothing to me now. Aye, Mauri would have been my wife after years of courtship. My own father would not let me wed her yet, she and I too young to take the oaths. You only want to retrieve her sister because she’s so bonny.”

“Bonny doesn’t being to describe… Nay, I pity her for she is now in the hands of Domhnall.”

“I cannot do anything about it presently. My father calls and I must to Edinburgh. I dread telling him of what occurred. He’ll be angered.” Alexander stopped at the gatehouse and motioned to a lad to bring his horse.

“You’ll not have your father’s favor now, my lord. The clan MacQuarrie is one of the oldest in Scotland. Domhnall has killed their chieftain and his family and now holds one of its kin. The king will be more than wrath,” Thom said, with a bit of disdain in his tone.

“He’ll have many an enemy here in the north after what he’s done. The fool will have to live with his misfortune.”

Misfortune would be Alexander’s once he realized what he had lost.

CHAPTER TWO

Last days of summer five years later …

Highlands, Scotland

1220

Many a boat lined the seaport awaiting departure. Laird Grey Gunn wasn’t in a rush to take to sea. Truth to tell, he’d rather be home in bed with his lovely wife. That thought made him wince since his wife’s belly forbade him from doing what he most wanted. In a month mayhap his son would be born and once again he’d be welcomed back into his marriage bed.

His men sent complaint in the form of glares and grumbles when he told them to unload the boats, but he didn’t pay them any heed. For they would follow his command and if so would stay ashore until he bade leave. After giving the orders that the boats be emptied of their wares and battened down for the oncoming cold weather season, he strode toward the hut where his guard posted, awaiting him.

They leaned against the wall as if they had nothing to occupy their time. But Grey knew they were alert and vigilant, even though they presented the opposite visage. His guard was always ready to defend the clan and land.

“Grey, you’ve a message from Alexander. He is nearly at the keep and will probably be waiting at your table when you arrive.” Duff, his commander-in-arms and his closest comrade, handed him a piece of crumbled parchment.

The missive barely a few words, indicated Alexander needed his attendance.

“God Almighty, what now? I have no time for the king’s melees.” Grey didn’t hold much fondness for the king since they’d had a disagreement. It was more of a conflict of interest since Alexander hadn’t held his wife’s welfare above his own. An event he was made to swallow without retribution.

“Well, you best be making time,” Colm said, and joined the others in laughter over their laird’s disgruntlement. For they all knew how much Grey objected to anything having to do with Alexander. They were fortunate enough to live far north, where they weren’t bothered much by politics.

Grey grumbled and turned to leave them, and unfortunately they followed. Each one of his guardsmen had been trustworthy companions since childhood. Duff, the most formidable, at least until his marriage to his wife’s friend, Kait, more often wore a smile. Odd that, since Duff had been a favored adversary in training and many of his warriors boasted of being the one who would finally defeat him. Grey would never get used to his tolerant temperament of late. He supposed a woman could bring about a change in a man, considering that had happened to him when he married his beloved Bree.

Sean, James, and Colm were always good company and entertaining, especially when there was a willing woman around, a brawl to revel in, or a tasty drink to appease them. Though they weren’t much younger than he, it had been his duty to give them a place within the clan. Grey finally conceded they were able to care for themselves and he didn’t much worry about them. His wife had given him enough worry these days and was always up to mischief. Only one of his guardsmen concerned him and that was Kenneth.

Kenneth’s brother had died and since, he hadn’t been the same forbearing man. Greer’s unfortunate death caused Kenneth to change in manner. Greer had been second-in-command and guarding Bree when he met with a foe that had a bigger sword and a quest for blood. Losing Greer instilled great pain for all the Gunn clansmen and women, but none as great as Kenneth. His friend lost his fortitude for happiness and his easy-going spirit diminished.

As he walked along the path to the keep, Grey discerned the quiet demeanor in his friend and the scowl permanently etched on his brow. There was nothing he could do to ease his friend’s mourning or anger. For Kenneth had placed blame for Greer’s death solely on himself. No matter what Grey told him, would disallow that guilt. Hell, it was his own wife whom Greer had been protecting at the time. Still, Kenneth would not allow Grey to take the fault.

Grey noted the king’s guard dotting the hillside. Alexander rode with many these days because there was much strife between the lands in each direction. Damnation, Grey didn’t want to be embroiled in any political matters or any cosh Alexander was involved in. There was too much to do at home, and with the birth of his first child approaching, worries.

He took the steps and entered the great hall, where he saw his clanswomen and several of his lesser guardsmen had taken up vigil. Alexander, considered by many of the ladies to be handsome, drew attention wherever he went. With a look, Grey sent his clans people on their way and gave a quick glance of regret to Bree. She caught his look and smiled briefly before turning back to Kait.

“Alexander.”

Upon saying his name, the tall king stood and waited for Grey to make the suitable gestures to one of his ilk. A few gestures came to mind, but none would be appropriate. Grey would rather spit on the floor than show any kind of regard for his king, and short of getting his head staked, would he ever be so disrespectful. That didn’t mean he had to like the man.

“Grey, I need to speak with you in private. I’ve much to discuss.”

Grey immediately cleared the room of his guardsmen. He asked Bree to leave with the womenfolk and once the hall was silenced, he sat next to Alexander and poured himself a cup of ale. Too bad the ale had been watered down because he could use a bit of mind-numbness in dealing with Alexander.

“There are grave matters at hand. I need your assistance.”

“Aye, they are always grave, are they not?” Grey sipped at his ale waiting with eagerness to hear what the king wanted of him. The sooner he revealed his purpose of visit, the soonest he would leave.

“I’ve met with Haakon and our discussion has led me to believe I need to take action before all we’ve gained for is for naught. Though Haakon is good friends with the English’s king, I must consider my next move carefully. That is why I am here.”

“What has Norway’s king to do with you, your grace? I would trust you would not aid him since he is in league with Henry. Haven’t you sworn disloyalty to Henry or has that changed?”

Alexander grumbled something he couldn’t quite catch. The two kings often disputed over any and every issue warranted.

Grey wasn’t sure what Alexander would reveal, but now his curiosity piqued. It was well known that Haakon wanted the isles to the west as property of Norway, and Grey knew Alexander considered the land Scotland’s. That alone attested to Alexander’s patience with Domhnall Mac Raghnaill, the warrior chieftain who occupied said land. Domhnall fiercely guarded the lands and kept them secure from both kings. The chieftain played both sides of the coin as it were. A dangerous game for any and all involved.

“Years ago, I visited the lands to the west, and there I met a woman, she was a young lass then whom I thought to marry. Domhnall mac Raghnaill and I made an agreement that he would keep the lands from the Norway king until my father negotiated a price with him. He was to be well rewarded. At the time, upon my father’s behest, I went to secure those lands for Scotland. Domhnall agreed to await my father, but then he went and killed …”

“Sire, what are you asking of me?” Grey’s impatience wore on him. He didn’t much care to hear the history of whatever was bothering Alexander.

Alexander pressed his back against the chair and folded his arms. He seemed reluctant to continue. “This may take a bit of explaining. The lass I wanted to wed was killed along with her family. The MacQuarries. All but her twin sister was slain. I believe Domhnall took part and now I have reason to believe it so.”

“Why would he kill your lass’ family?” Grey’s stomach clenched upon hearing the name MacQuarrie. He’d heard what happened to the chieftain and his family, and many had been outraged at the time. The MacQuarries were allies of many clans in the northern regions and held great wealth and power.

In a controlled tone, Alexander spoke clear yet with severity to his voice. “He was sending me a message.”

“You want me to kill Domhnall mac Raghnaill?” Grey asked with a touch of sarcasm to his words. “Do you know what you ask? He has many followers and supporters. It would be a difficult task, but not impossible.”

“Nay, Haakon will have Domhnall’s head for himself … eventually. Then I will have to battle with Haakon for the lands unless I can appease him. Which is why I am here this day. I have been asked to retrieve proof that Domhnall sided with his brother to overthrow Haakon. It is rumored that a parchment with the plan and those involved was given to Domhnall right before Mauri’s death from his brother Rory. Rory’s messenger was captured and confessed to giving a missive to Domhnall.”