Knight's Legacy (12 page)

“Had I detained your wife and made verra certain she had your leave to go away from the castle, we could have stopped her before she made the grave mistake of crossing Maitland's border,” Alec said.

“My wife is a headstrong woman. I have taken steps to correct that flaw,” Roderic said.

Gavin smirked before he broke into a wide grin. “We heard the noise of it! Yet, I trust ye gave her the comfort a mon should after the beating.”

There was a lascivious sparkle in Gavin's eye. Roderic was not amused when the others broke into a ribald laughter. He stood at the head of the table, shaking with anger.

“Enough!”

There was an immediate silence.

“My wife was wrong to go to Maitland's land. She will not make that mistake again. It is to be understood that despite suspicion because of her father, there is no proof of her disloyalty. Lady Montwain will have the support of every man in my command as part of his duty to me and the King. Be there any cause for complaint, so let it be spoken now against her.”

Each man in turn at the table expressed his support by brief words or gesture. At last it was only Alec and Gavin that had not spoken. Alec coughed and cleared his throat.

“I serve you, Roderic, and my King. I would do all in my power to protect Lady Montwain if need be.”

“I have but one complaint of your wife,” Gavin said.

“If you speak of her defending the boy …”

“Nay! ‘Twas wrong of me to strap the lad, for his mind is too simple to know better. But, let her raise a sword to me again, ‘twill be my own hand that beats her!”

Roderic's expression changed to a scowl.

“Aye, even if we cross swords,” Gavin said with a deadly calm.

“Your complaint?” Roderic demanded.

“She be too comely, and fair,” Gavin said. He had a wicked sparkle of amusement in his eye. “She should be mine.”

Roderic sighed with relief when he spoke. “I gather from your jest I have no reason to doubt your loyalty to Lady Montwain?”

Gavin's eyes darkened with a brief cloud of resentment and hurt. “Nay, my friend. I should cuff ye about for your doubts. Ye have my loyalty, my fealty, a promise born of love and trust. Although, I fear, and I pray ye also have God's help with this alliance. Ye will have need of it.”

Roderic nodded to his friend, then turned to Alec.

“Make ready to go to the King. I am sending a message to him, and I need a courier.”

Alec frowned. “I shall send someone.”

“Nay,” Roderic said. “I wish you to go.”

Roderic's brown eyes pinned the younger man with a compelling plea. Alec was obviously perplexed, but he quickly acceded to his wishes.

“I shall go within the hour,” Alec said.

Setting the grinding pace of a soldier on march, Alec traveled for two days with little respite. Closing the distance between himself and the King, on the third day he slowed his gallop and vowed to rest until dawn rather than a brief nap.

It was twilight, and he had no desire to move on when he came upon the couple. He raised his hand palm up to imply he meant no harm when he approached them. Sitting near a small fire was a young woman who looked vaguely familiar. She was not alone. A large warrior in a pale green and black plaid stood before him, shielding the young woman vigilantly.

Alec spoke respectfully to the lady.

“Ye address my wife, sir.” The warrior's words were spoken as a warning.

“Ah,” Alec said. “Ye be a mon favored by the gods to have a wife so fair.”

His eyes moved over the lass, appreciating her beauty. She had dark red hair the color of fox fur, and glanced down demurely while she allowed her husband to speak for her. Though the warrior had a suspicious nature, he graciously invited Alec to share their camp.

Alec smiled warmly. “I am grateful. 'Tis a long way I go and a comfort not to sup alone.”

“Your journey is just beginning, sir?” the lady asked.

“Aye, milady. I must travel a bit to greet the King,” Alec said.

She sighed as if relieved, and smiled. “You, too, then . .”

Her husband reached out to her, and with a quiet motion of his hand stopped her speech. Alec observed the silent communication of husband and wife. She seemed perplexed, even hurt. Then a subtle fear replaced the emotion in her expression. It was a warning, there was no reproach in his glance when the warrior looked at his lady. An intense gentleness was conveyed as he directed his silent command.

She returned his look with one of love and trust. This woman cared for her husband deeply, and wanted very much to please him.

“I have seen no plaid with your colors in this part of the highlands,” the warrior said.

“Aye, for my clan is in the low country. And yours?” Alec asked.

The man did not answer him.

“Ye think me an enemy?”

“If that were so, ye would have had a taste of my blade as we speak.”

They did not trust him, but Alec gave it little thought. He would not tarry long in their presence.

The warrior did not sleep. He sat near his wife where she slept, his hand upon his sword.

Leaning up against a tree, Alec sat across from him wrapped in his plaid, and did the same. It was not a restful night, and although at times he feigned sleep, Alec thought it best to be on his guard.

The couple feared an enemy. Alec was aware that the mention of his destination was a mistake, and he could have very well threatened his own safety. He was no Englishman; word would have traveled fast in the Highlands of Roderic's victory.

He hoped he would not be forced to kill the man, for what then would become of the woman? Alec would be forced to take her with him as a prisoner. Long before first light, he took his leave.

Throughout the day as he traveled he became suspicious that he was being followed. The tracks he found told him it was one lone rider, and he traveled on his way, watching his back but the day wore on, he became impatient. Doubling back, he hoped to engage the man and fight, but the enemy was clever, constantly keeping him at a disadvantage by staying near, but undetected.

Waiting for him to attack did not set well, but Alec changed his direction, determined to allow no delay in his mission.

Returning to his former trail, he found a sign of two riders. One was much heavier than the other. The two people he had met last eve?

He slept little that night, guarding his small camp with care. Taking a slower course through the thick of the forest, he made an advantage of the woods about him. By afternoon he was heartily sick of the man.

“Let us fight now, and have done with the games, coward!” His angry bellow echoed through the trees. Alec did not sleep, but kept ready for battle, and was surprised as the night passed uneventful.

At first light he was immediately alert. Traveling on for several hours, he came out of a thicket of trees to see in a camp in the distance. His horse became agitated when he drew his sword, and he crooned to the animal when he came upon the camp. Recognizing the soft lavender gown worn by the woman he had met on the trail, he approached the couple. They had been attacked. Glancing about through the deep forest that surrounded them, he saw no evidence of an intruder.

His mind screamed a warning to flee when he saw that the young warrior was dead, but he had an immediate concern for the woman. Knowing he must give her assistance, Alec rode closer. Nearby she lay face down, arm outstretched to her husband. The two were covered with blood, but she moved one leg restlessly. She was alive.

Alec dismounted and first examined the body of the man. The back of his skull was visible; it had been split open by a sword. Confirming the man's death, he heard a deep moan from the woman.

Striding to the young woman, he sheathed his sword, knelt down, and gently took her in his arms to examine her injuries. He swallowed the bile in his throat when he saw her distress. Her complexion was gray and she gasped for breath. Above her breast, on her shoulder, was a large, gaping wound. She had been pierced through, and her small white hand fluttered near his chin as she uttered a choking gasp.

He felt her warning before he saw it. Her body shook with a tremor that he mistook for death's grasp, and she shook her head violently, green eyes filled with horror as she stared past him.

Trying to draw his sword, he turned, much too late. Alec felt the harsh, thin piercing of a dagger through his ribs. No sword this, but just as deadly.

“No …” he protested, staring into a familiar face.

“You!” He ground the word from his throat, feeling a great dismay at his own carelessness. His enemy pulled the dagger up, skillfully slicing his heart and ending his life with one thrust.

He looked up to whisper one word.

“Why?”

The darkness enveloped him when the weapon was pulled from his body. Slumping forward, he fell with his cheek resting on the woman's breast.

There was very little pain when his grip relaxed from the handle of his sword. He had failed Roderic, and he could not warn him. His last thought was of the woman, and he rested his head on her soft body, still warm.

It came to him then. He knew why her face was so familiar. The resemblance was eerie, especially about the eyes.

She looked like Angus Mackay.

The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her so that he shall have no need of spoil.

~Proverbs 31:11

R
oderic was summoned very early in the morning by one of his men. Having left Catherine sleeping, reluctant to leave her side, his manner was disgruntled. “Pray forgive my intrusion. The young boy is gone. Wandered off, he did,” Nigel said.

“Can you not have Gavin see to it?” Roderic asked.

“Nay, for he has gone to the training field after breaking his fast, and he hoped to travel to visit the father of Lady Gwyneth.”

Roderic smiled with little humor. “The lass spurned him once. Why would he further his quest when so many others flutter about him?”

Nigel was tall and blond with a ruddy complexion. He displayed a wide grin when he replied.

“ ‘Twas not the lass who spurned him. Gavin turns their heads with no effort. He puts them in a swoon with a wink. 'Tis her father that will not hear of his proposal, for Gavin holds no title, no lands.”

“Aye,” Roderic said. “ 'Tis a familiar plight. Mayhap Cameron will see to finding the boy?”

“He, too, is gone, hunting; he left early, before Gavin. I told the woman, Mary, I would see to it. But she demands to speak with you. Her cottage is the small one, just south of the hill west of the keep,” Nigel said.

“I'm on my way,” Roderic said. After two paces he turned at the top of the steps.

“Nigel.”

“Aye.”

“My wife still sleeps. Guard her until I return, for her own safety.”

“Aye, Sir Roderic, as ye wish.”

He found the woman Mary with her daughter, a lass of perhaps twelve summers. She was very thin and pale. Mary held her bairn, also a lass. The babe was fretful, and Mary paced the small cottage trying to hush the whimpering of the little one.

“I beg your indulgence, Sir Roderic. Please go to fetch Kenneth.”

“My lady, any of my men would go with you to help you fetch him.”

“Aye, but Kenneth is verra swift eluding others in these woods. He fears your men. You, he does not. I fear if I sent others, it would frighten him. 'Tis a special hiding place, and I know where he has gone.”

The bairn she was holding continued to cry. Roderic's brows gathered in a frown.

“The child is ill?”

Mary shook her head. “Nay, I merely need to feed her, and Kenneth brings me the wood for the fire.”

“I will see that one of my men brings it,” Roderic said.

“I cannae leave her. My daughter, Janet, will take ye to find Kenneth. He plays near this cottage. An old one of our clan died there years ago, and the mon built it away from others, preferring his own company. 'Tis a pretty spot in the woods. Kenneth goes there to be with his own world, his own thoughts. Edna doesnae know he has left again. ‘Twill save him a beating if you get him back soon.”

Roderic sighed as he answered. “I will do my best, but first I will send someone with the wood. Come, lass.”