My Valiant Knight (19 page)
When she was taken from Colin’s horse and dragged into Kengarvey, she fought to hide her fear. It did not help her when she was separated from Colin. He would still have put her in the dungeons as her father had ordered, but his presence would have given her some strength. If nothing else, she might have deluded herself into thinking that someone would remember her and, even if they would not free her, would keep her from dying in the damp bowels of the keep. The cold-eyed, barrel-chested man dragging her down to the dungeons would forget her the moment he shut the heavy iron door.
Despite all her efforts to show courage, Ainslee gave a soft cry of terror when the man shoved her into a damp cell and slammed the door. The musky air, the dark, and the damp chill all terrified her. From the earliest days of her childhood, she had understood that the dungeons of Kengarvey were where people were sent to die. She winced as her jailer turned the key in the lock, then closed her eyes and shuddered as she listened to him walk away.
Slowly she walked to the tiny board bed in the corner, and warily sat down on the rat-gnawed mattress. Ainslee fought the blind terror that tried to possess her heart and mind. She should at least wait a while before she went mad, she thought a little bitterly. Glancing around, the light from one torch in the wall too dim to allow her a clear view of anything, she could feel the ghosts of the poor souls who had been there before her, and wondered just how real they might soon become to her.
A tall, thin man entered the dungeons and sat on a hard stool opposite her cell. He said nothing to her, so she ignored him. She could not understand how her father could still be so concerned about her escaping that he would put a guard on her, for no one had left the cells beneath Kengarvey except to be carried to the graveyard. Ainslee also knew that the squint-eyed man watching her would do absolutely nothing to help her. He might well have been set there just to see how long it would take her to starve to death.
Ainslee shook away that dark thought, for it stirred up the terror she barely held in check. She had to fix her mind on something else, no matter how impossible that something was. If God would heed her prayers, she might survive, she might even escape, and this time she would head back to Bellefleur, and she might still be able to save some of her clan. And Gabel would soon come to Kengarvey, there was no doubt in her mind about that. She could only pray that he would come in time.
Seventeen
“There has been yet another fight between one of our men and one of the Frasers,” announced Justice as he strode into Ronald’s room without knocking, knowing that Gabel would be there.
Gabel cursed, rose from where he sat on the edge of Ronald’s bed, and began to angrily pace the room. Only a week had passed since he had spoken with the king and received his liege’s unsatisfactory command. He had barely dismounted in the bailey of Bellefleur three days later when the Frasers had begun to arrive. From the first moment Fraser’s hirelings and kinsmen had begun to gather, there had been trouble. One of his men had even been murdered, and his swift hanging of the guilty man, a distant cousin of Lord Fraser, had only made matters worse. Gabel dreaded the battle ahead, yet also ached to ride to Kengarvey. It would at least put an end to the turmoil and danger of having Bellefleur swarming with Frasers.
“Was anyone hurt?” he asked as he paused by Ronald’s bedside table and helped himself to some mead.
“Nay,” replied Justice, waving aside Gabel’s silent offer of a drink. “A few bruises. Some of our men put an end to it just as the Fraser man drew a knife.”
“Ye have to get these mad dogs out of Bellefleur,” Ronald said as he eased himself up into a sitting position, wincing a little, but shaking his head when Gabel tried to assist him. “I dinna need help, laddie. It pains me some, but I can do it without hurting meself, and, if I dinna make meself move now and again, I will rot in this bed.” He sighed as he sank back against his pillows. “Those Frasers have been naught but trouble since the first one slithered through the gates three days ago.”
“I know,” agreed Gabel, sitting back down on the edge of Ronald’s bed. “I should have made them camp outside the walls, but I never thought they would cause this much trouble.”
“Ye arena witless, but too often ye do put too much trust in others, expecting them all to act as ye would. Canna ye throw them outside the walls now?”
“Nay, not without causing a grievous insult to Sir Fraser, and I dare not do that, not until I have settled the matter of Kengarvey to the king’s satisfaction.”
“Ye really believe that the king is displeased with you?”
“Not as deeply as I feared he would be, but, aye, he is displeased. His offer to give me Kengarvey and whomever I am able to save was not the gracious gift some might think it to be. He feels that all of the MacNairns are a curse, and that I will be sadly beset in trying to rule them. He also knows that both the Frasers and the MacFibhs covet the lands there. They are unhappy that I will gain Kengarvey, and they will cause me some difficulty. And let us not forget that there are other kinsmen to Duggan MacNairn besides the ones the king considers outlaws. They too will think I have usurped what is rightfully theirs. Aye, ’tis a reward, but one carrying a few hard curses with it.”
“There will be few at Kengarvey who will fight your rule when Duggan is finally dead.”
“Not even his sons?” asked Justice.
“Nay,” replied Ronald. “The one thing those lads have learned is how to survive. They will have the wit to ken that, under you, they can do that with more comfort and more ease than they have e’er done beneath the fists of their father.”
“And they will not feel a need for vengeance for the death of their father?”
“Nay, I think not. Aye, most children love their parents no matter how foolish those parents are, but Duggan MacNairn has beaten all the love out of his children. They are terrified of the mon, no more. If they obey, ’tis out of fear. They dinna leave him, for they love Kengarvey, although Duggan has made it little better than a hovel with all his fighting. Nay, those sons willna seek to make anyone pay for their father’s death; they may even be more loyal to the mon who kills him, for they will finally be free. The only thing I fear is that they will allow Duggan to take them to their deaths.”
“I will do my best to save them,” Gabel said.
“I ken it. I have had little to do with Martin, George, and William, but I canna believe I am wrong to say that they dinna carry their father’s taint. Colin has little of his father in him, and he is the one I will grieve for if Duggan gets him killed. Howbeit, I realize that ye canna save all of the fools, laddie.”
“At the moment I seem incapable of even helping my own men who are so sorely beset by those cursed Frasers.” Gabel frowned when Michael suddenly burst into the room. “Does no one knock anymore?”
“My pardons, cousin, but I bring good news,” Michael said as he fought to catch his breath. “The laird of the MacFibhs is here.”
“The laird himself?”
“Aye,” Michael said, but before he could say any more a huge, black-haired man marched into the room.
Gabel immediately recognized the lord of the MacFibhs, even though he had only met the man once. Angus MacFibh was hard to forget. The man stood head and shoulders over most men, was built as strong as the finest destrier, and had a huge red scar marring his square, homely face. He wore mostly rough peasant attire and a thick cape made of wolf’s fur. Sir Angus started toward him, but as Gabel stood to greet the man, the Scot stopped abruptly and stared at Ronald.
“Ye treat the enemy verra kindly,” Angus said, eyeing Gabel warily, his hand on his sword.
“I do not consider this man an enemy,” Gabel replied in a calm and courteous voice, but he was angered by the look of mistrust on Angus’s face.
“He is one of those cursed MacNairns, isna he? Didna our king say that the whole nest of them needed to be cleared out?”
“Our king also said that I may save any of them I wish to, except for Duggan MacNairn. I am of a mind to save Ronald.”
“And I am of a mind to make Kengarvey bleed. Are we to be working against each other, my laird?”
“I think not, not if you do not try to stop me. After all, what good is Kengarvey to me if I have no one to work its lands?”
“There are a lot of MacFibhs who would do that for you.”
“I am sure, and I shall remember that they are there if I have need of them. May I ask why you have come to Bellefleur? I expected a mere messenger to come and tell me that you were ready to attack, not the laird himself.”
“I felt this battle was important enough to tell ye meself that I am ready.” Angus scratched his belly and spared another glare for Ronald. “I am eager to ride beside ye as we set upon those MacNairn swine.”
Gabel sent Ronald one sharp look when the man began to speak, eager to answer MacFibh’s insults with a few of his own, and, although he grumbled and scowled, Ronald obeyed the silent command to be quiet. After a few moments of polite murmurings between him and Angus, Gabel had Michael take Lord MacFibh to his chambers, where he could rest after his hard ride. The moment the door closed behind the man, Gabel cursed and poured himself another tankard of mead.
“The arrogance of that man is nearly choking,” grumbled Justice as he too helped himself to a drink.
“The smell of him isna too healthy either,” muttered Ronald, but he managed a smile when both Justice and Gabel grinned.
Gabel frowned as he sat at the end of Ronald’s bed, leaned against the bedpost, and took a long drink of his mead. “I do not see it as a compliment that MacFibh himself has come to tell me that all his men are gathered. I also find the man’s eagerness to kill MacNairns a little chilling.”
Ronald nodded then shrugged. “I can understand his hatred, even though I think it most unfair that he feels it for all MacNairns. Duggan has a lot of MacFibh blood on his hands. He has killed a fair number of Angus’s close kin, and sometimes left the MacFibh lands so battered and burnt that people starved ere things could be put aright again.”
“So, even if I do not have trouble from him about the lands themselves, I may well have trouble protecting MacNairns.”
“Aye. He willna stop hating us simply because we have a new laird.”
“And we have already had a taste of what treachery the Frasers are capable of.”
“Mayhaps you can be rid of the place after the king’s temper has cooled, and he is feeling more generous toward you,” said Justice.
“Nay,” Gabel answered, and he shook his head. “I am the one who will be taking the laird of MacNairn’s life. ‘Tis my duty to try and help the people who are left leaderless. And who would take the lands then? MacFibh? Fraser? If I give up the lands, the ones who will greedily take them up are men who will treat the people as poorly as their laird did. In truth, I would be handing Ainslee’s people o’er to their executioners. ‘Twould not be a very welcome wedding gift. I think I may have enough trouble explaining how ’tis not only her father’s life I have taken, but her lands.”
Ronald smiled crookedly. “She may be a wee bit angry, but I dinna think ye need to fear any great trouble from her o’er who rules Kengarvey.”
“Nay? You do not think she will feel that one of her brothers ought to be made laird, and not me?”
“She kens that her brothers will be lucky to be alive. She also kens what a poor choice of lairds there is out there. Nay, she may feel angry with the king that her brothers are losing their birthright, when the crimes were of their father’s making and not theirs, but she will nay fault ye.”
Gabel wished he had Ronald’s confidence, but did not argue with the man. “Well, I had best go and be courteous to my unwelcome guests. Fraser skulking about has been hard enough upon my poor aunt. I fear she may have to take to her bed after she meets that brutish Angus MacFibh.”
“They willna all be here for verra long, will they?” asked Ronald.
“Nay Now that the MacFibhs are prepared for the battle, we need not linger here any longer. If all of the Frasers are not here, that is their loss. I mean for us to ride to Kengarvey on the morrow.”
“I will tell the men,” said Justice even as he headed out of the door. “This is the news they have waited for.”
As Gabel stood up, he glanced at Ronald. “I do not believe I have ever been so reluctant to go to battle.”
“I ken it. Ye must do as the king commands and, although my heart sorely aches for my people, if any mon must be sent to end the troubles at Kengarvey, I am glad it will be you. I can rest easy kenning that, if God wills that any of my people survive, ye will treat them weel.”
He nodded to Ronald, silently thanking him for his trust, but Gabel’s heart was heavy as he left the room. The allies the king had sent him could neither be trusted nor liked. Bellefleur was crowded with brutish men who made no attempt to ally themselves with the men they would soon have to fight side by side with. Even his plans to show some mercy would be disobeyed, and he would not only have to fight for his life and those of his men, but for the people of Kengarvey who were willing to surrender to him. And, somewhere in the midst of all the duplicity and bloodshed, he had to try and find Ainslee before a Fraser or a MacFibh did.
Gabel knew that the next few days would be one of the worst ordeals he had ever had to suffer. He could only pray that he had the strength and wits to survive it, and to gain all he sought.
Ainslee blinked, her eyes hurt by the light of the extra torch Colin set into the wall. She had been in the dungeons for five long days, and this was only the second time Colin had come to see her. All the rest of the time she was virtually alone, her guards acting as if they sat before an empty cell. She was rather surprised that her father even bothered with the guards anymore. As she stood up and walked to the bars, she also wondered how Colin could get rid of the guards without bringing her father’s wrath down on his head. She did notice that Colin was never left with the key.
A little embarrassed by her own greed, she snatched the bread and cheese he pushed through the bars. The meager offerings Colin had slipped her before were all she had had to eat since her imprisonment. Her father saw to it that she had water and nothing else. It was very clear that he intended to starve her to death. Her guards probably had to report on how sickly she had grown. That would soon cause trouble for Colin, however, for her father would become suspicious if she lingered too long.
“Are ye not afraid that the guards will tell our father what ye do?” she asked as she forced herself to slowly chew on a thin slice of the loaf of bread he had handed her.
“They willna tell him about my visits,” Colin replied as he leaned against the bars.
“How can ye be so certain of that?”
“Because no one here ever tells our father what I am doing. In truth, only one or two of his hirelings would report on someone, but everyone is verra careful not to let them find out anything.”
“ ’Tis odd for I would have thought that they would seek his favor.”
“Most all ken that our father’s favor doesna last from one hour to the next. They gain more by keeping their own counsel. It means that, every once in awhile, one can do as one pleases, and not fear that they face a beating or worse.”
“How have I missed this?”
“Because ye didna need to join the conspiracy. Ye had Ronald.” He frowned when she carefully placed the rest of the cheese and bread beneath her thin, worn blanket. “Why dinna ye finish that?”
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