Lass' Valor (The Pith Trilogy) (30 page)

“Are
you just saying that because …”

Brendan
cradled her face, nudging her chin up so he could look into her face. “Katie,
how could I not love you? You have loved me since you had your vision. I’ll not
deny it, but you will not weaken me, love, do you hear?”

She
giggled, lowered her head to kiss his mouth. “Nay, I won’t weaken you, Brendan,
I promise.”

“And
I won’t be a farmer, Katie, do you hear me?”

She
nodded against his chest. “Somehow, I can’t see you tending the fields,
Brendan. I am not of a mind to change you. I like you just as you are, my
scowling warrior.”

He
smiled at that.

Henry
grew frustrated with the mood in his court. He suggested a hunting party for
the men so he could get some exercise and get away from the cross men in the
hall. The elder, sat with his arms folded over his chest, glaring at anyone who
chanced a look at him, the younger, paced about the hall like a caged lion,
watching the door, probably searching for his wife.

“That
is a wonderful idea, Henry. I’ll assemble men, and we’ll go in a few minutes,”
Colin said.

As
the men walked outside into the cool midmorning grayness, light rain began to
fall. “Mayhap we will go on the morrow.” Henry looked up at the sky.

“Nay,
it’ll stop soon, Henry. The day will turn brighter, the clouds are not that
thick.”

Henry
turned to see Hawk mount his horse, and Brendan led his giant white stallion
toward them. Henry shook his head. “They’re not coming with us, are they?”

Colin
laughed at his disgruntlement. “Aye, they wished to do so.”

“Damn
me, I thought to escape them.”

Colin
laughed harder, gaining looks from his men. They were silent as they forged
through the thick overgrown forest, bordering the castle walls. The king’s
hunting grounds didn’t have much of a selection of animals to hunt, and Henry
became as bored and aggravated as he had been in the hall.

As
Brendan led the procession, he gazed from one side of the trees to the other,
and pulled his mount to a stop. Colin and his warriors slowed their horses and
looked at him.

“There
are men camped ahead, mayhap three hundred feet or so. I can hear them.”

“You
heard them?” Henry asked incredulously.

Hawk
moved forward so he could hear their discussion.

“Do
you think it could be Richard?” Colin asked.

“Could
we be that fortunate?” Brendan countered.

“Advance
in our usual formation, men,” Colin ordered. “Let us prepare.”

Excitement
rose within Henry. He had never been involved in fighting before, and he looked
forward to seeing the highland warriors in battle. His own soldiers flanked him
and he smiled at their gesture of protection, and thought to tell them it
wasn’t needed, but decided not to insult his soldiers.

“Sire,
stay here, where you will be safe,” Colin directed.

“Nay,
I shall go forth with you. My men will see to my safety.”

Colin
nodded, he wouldn’t gainsay the king. The MacKinnon warriors jumped from their
mounts and readied for the fight. They assisted in covering themselves with the
dark painted symbols, and pulled out daggers, and their favorite weapons, broad
swords. All held long the swords meant to inflict grave injuries, serving its
purpose by killing their foes.

Impressed
by their prowess, Henry wanted to be included in their ritualistic ceremony. He
wouldn’t dare, but all the same, he was awed by their powerful mien. He knew
Colin and his men could prepare for a battle in minutes. Brendan drew his notice
then, he walked back and forth, holding his massive sword in a rigid manner.

The
afternoon became dismal as the clouds thickened, the forest floor overlay with
a dense mist. The mist didn’t stir as the warriors stalked toward their enemy.
Colin demanded again that Henry stay with a few of his soldiers, away from the
conflict, but he wouldn’t hear of it, and walked behind Colin’s men.

Lord
Hawk wouldn’t stay behind either, and he marched behind them. When the last
warrior settled himself on the large branches of the trees above the camp, a
bird took flight, fluttering its wings, diving toward the ground for cover.

*****

Richard
de Morris watched the bird’s decent and dismissed it. He was more concerned
with his security. “Be on alert, men,” he commanded. He walked to the fire, and
suddenly turned back to see where the bird landed. He couldn’t see it as it was
now encased by the mist that floated on the base of the ground. The graying
mist rolled toward them, swallowing up the view of the ground.

“The
day grows eerie,” Richard said, more to himself than to his men. Two of his
soldiers squabbled over a chunk of bread. He clipped them both on the sides of
their heads and took the bread. “You’ll get nothing now. Settle down to rest,
men, we’ll get an early start. I want to regain my possession by the morrow and
be gone before the king becomes the wiser.”

As
the camp quieted, Richard stood watching his guards. They were positioned so
that if anyone advanced on them, they would know in enough time. He relaxed his
rigid stance, and began eating the bread he had taken from his men.

How
had he ended here, in the chilled mist of Londontown? If only he had obtained
the medallion sooner, he would likely have reached Egypt by now, and would be
in possession of the treasure. Instead, he hid out in a damned damp forest
trying to locate the object. Disgruntled at himself for allowing Kaitlin’s get
away, he swore he wouldn’t give up. He should have known the girl wouldn’t show
up. Then Harry turned his back on him, he couldn’t allow him to live after he
demanded he leave.

As
his thoughts raced in his mind, Richard turned and glanced at the darkened
space between the trees. He thought he’d heard something, but perhaps he was
wrong. He returned his attention to finishing the bread. Someone grabbed him
from behind and caused him to choke. He swallowed quickly then struggled
against his attacker, but he was held firmly with his arms behind his back.

“To
arms,” Richard shouted, “To arms.”

His
men jumped to attention, hearing his shout. They were indeed too late, as the highland
warriors appeared from the trees above. Though Richard’s men outnumbered the
warriors, the soldiers threw down their weapons, and looked at their leader. It
didn’t appear he would be released. Richard scoffed and turned to see who held
him.

“Release
me. I am Lord Richard de Morris. My men will cut you down at my command.”

Colin
frowned at him in disbelief. “I don’t think so, de Morris, your men have all ready
surrendered.”

“Release
me, I said.”

Colin
threw him to the ground and watched him hurry to his feet. Brendan positioned
his sword an inch from his chest, making Richard still.

“I
will tell you why I want to kill you, Lord Richard, you dastardly swine,” Colin
declared heatedly.

“You
dare insult me?” Richard yelled.

“You
took my child from the king’s castle and kept her in that pigsty you call a
home. For that you will face death this day.” Colin moved forward, and held his
own sword at the ready.

“Let
me do the honor, Colin. He hurt Katie and tried to kill her father. I should be
the one to end his life,” Brendan said.

Richard
stepped back a few steps, and pulled his sword out, holding it at his
aggressors.

Colin
eyed him for a moment before responding to his brother’s request. “Aye,
Brendan, the honor should be yours.”

Brendan
wanted a fair fight, so he signaled to the warriors to move back. “Did you act
alone, Richard?”

“Alone
in what? Capturing the child? ‘Twas easy,” he boasted. “The king wouldn’t care
about a heathen child, nor about Stanhope’s daughter. Why would he? It doesn’t
matter now, I’ve lost the medallion, the child, and here I am facing you.”

“It
does matter, greatly. The child is the king’s cousin, and Lady Stanhope is my
wife. Did it make you feel like a man forcing her to submit to you? Then you
hurt her, stabbing her and leaving her for dead in the forest. You feed on the
innocent and weaker. You’re the devil’s kin.”

Brendan
noticed that Richard raised his sword, ready for the attack which was sure to
come. He also noted Richard’s scornful glance at his kinsmen standing aside,
but when Richard saw the king’s liveried soldiers standing beyond them, and the
king looking at him with a cold-blooded look, Richard’s face whitened.

Brendan
detected his immoveable stance, and saw his eyes widen. Richard grew lax for a
moment then repositioned himself. So he was ready, was he? Brendan swung his
sword in an arch, meaning to slice him in the middle, but Richard sidestepped
too quickly and he missed. Richard retaliated by jabbing the thinner, lighter sword,
hoping to slice his stomach, but he was too quick on his feet, easily dodging
each thrust. Richard grew frustrated and ran at him.

Richard
stopped short seeing Stanhope. “Hawk?” He raised the sword, and a fearless mien
overrode his caution. A harrowing look replaced the fierceness.

Brendan
didn’t lower his sword. He retained his position, and waited to see what
Richard would do.

“Richard,”
Hawk muttered with disgust. “You are a deviant daemon!” Then he shocked them
all when he spit on Richard. “That’s for trying to hurt my daughter.”

“You
live,” Richard said in awe.

Hawk
frowned ferociously. “I was fortunate an Arab saved me. All this trouble,
Richard, for a piece of scrap parchment and an unknown treasure?”

“The
treasure will be mine,” Richard yelled. “I shall have it, no one will stop me.”

Brendan
stood silent, and as everyone watched the deranged man. The forest stilled and
became silent.

“‘Twas
all for naught, Richard, there is no treasure. The medallion and map are not
valid, but an artifice made by the Templar Knights. The map leads to a
demolished monastery here in England. Perhaps the medallion is worth something,
being that it is gold. Mayhap if you melted it down,” Hawk said mockingly.

“Naught
but a demolished monastery? You lie.” Richard gazed around, but still wouldn’t
admit his jeopardy. “I shall be rich, richer than you, richer than the king.”

“Richer
than me, Richard?” Henry asked.

Richard’s
eyes widened when Henry stepped forward. He must have forgotten that the king
attended their scuffle.

“There
was never a treasure. You gain only your death with your greed.”

“Nay,
nay, it’s impossible, Hawk. I will not let you have the treasure. You lie.”
Richard raised his sword and ran at Hawk.

Brendan
held his ground, and shoved Hawk behind him. He let Richard come at him, but at
the last second, he pointed his sword in Richard’s direction. He pierced his
side then Brendan’s sword dropped to the ground. He left it there. Richard
bumped into him, and tried to stab him with his sword, but the length didn’t
allow an easy target. Brendan grabbed at his sword’s handle, and threw it into
the air, away from him.

Richard’s
breath heavy now, sent forth its steam in the cold air, and his exertion
evident in his slumped form. Brendan stood glaring at him, but then Richard
threw his body at him, and they both ended up on the mist covered ground.

The
men stood watching the mist moving and swirling around the fighters beneath. No
one moved; they watched and waited for the victor to rise. Finally, Brendan had
enough of the fight, he pulled a dagger from his boot. He punched Richard in
the face, knocking him off his own chest. As Richard rolled back, Brendan took
aim, and shoved his dagger into his heart. Richard didn’t make a sound, just
stared widely at the gray mist surrounding him.

Brendan
lay for a moment, catching his breath before gaining his feet. When the
warriors saw that it was he who had risen from the cloaked mist, they cheered.

Colin
clapped him on the back. “Well done, Brendan.”

He
nodded and went to retrieve his dagger. His steps stirred the mist, and he
yanked his dagger from Richard’s chest. He made certain Richard was dead before
walking away, going to fetch his sword.

“Collect
your leader,” Colin said angrily to Richard’s soldiers.

The
Englishmen nodded, and hurried to recover his body before the Scotsmen changed
their minds about releasing them.

“Finally,
justice is served,” Colin said, feeling vindicated by Richard’s death.

Brendan,
too, was pleased he was dead. “At last, the devil is dead,” he clipped
heatedly.

Hawk
approached, stood between the brothers, and clapped them both on the shoulder.
“You fight well, lads. I owe you a great debt as you saved me from Richard’s
sword.”

“Nay,
you owe me no debt,” Brendan retorted and walked away.

*****

Colin
turned and strode away. “Come, let us return to the keep.”

Hawk
watched Brendan leaving, and turned to ask, “Where is he going?”

“He
is going to calm the hell down. After fighting, he usually goes to the cliffs
at home. I don’t know where he’ll go here, but he’ll return later.”

Hawk
followed along silently as they rode back to the castle. When they reached the
stone walls of Whitehall, he went in search of his daughter. He quickly knocked
on her chamber door.

Kate
opened it, and seeing him, she left it open and moved back. She kept her face
serene, and waited for him to speak.