Rise of a Legend (Guardian of Scotland Book 1) (18 page)

Completely breathless, Eva eased away. If only she could beg and plead for more.

William nuzzled into her neck, his breath hot against her cool skin.

Eva closed her eyes and inhaled his feral scent. “You may leave me at Fail, but I refuse to bid you goodbye.”

***

Eventually John Blair and the retinue caught up to them about at the same time Eva spotted the stone walls of the monastery. It looked so new and enormous compared to the ruin. What had Walter said? The monastery was commissioned less than fifty years prior. Surrounded by a wooden fence, the sanctuary with its rose window loomed majestically above a long dormitory building—she’d seen no trace of it in the ruins.

As they approached, a pair of riders galloped toward them. To the west of the monastery, an army of men gathered. Just as Lord Stewart had promised in his missive, the soldiers had arrived. Though Blind Harry gave William credit for Ayr, Eva wondered.
Will things play out as the poet described?

“What? Did ye find a wood nymph along the way?” A man with broad shoulders, dressed in mail from head to toe, eyed Eva with a lecherous glint. An ornate brooch at his throat clasped a red mantle closed.

“She’ll be staying with the Trinitarians.” William reined the horse to a stop. “Sir Douglas, I take it?”

“In the flesh.” Douglas stared at Eva. “Though with such a tasty morsel, ’tis a wonder ye made it this far, Wallace.”

“The maid is none of your concern.” William helped Eva slide down before he dismounted. “I’ve business inside, then I’ll tend ye directly.”

A rueful laugh rolled from Sir Douglas’ lips. “Ye best make it quick, else ye’ll have all my lads wanting their turn.”

Eva had enough. “Pardon me, but you are a pig. How dare you insult—”

William’s firm fingers gripped her shoulder. “I’ll be but a moment,” he growled, pulling her toward the gate.

Once out of earshot, she wrenched her shoulder from William’s grasp. “Did you see how he looked at me?”

“Aye, and I’m surprised I didna have to fight half the camp to keep my men away from ye as well.”

She’d known that was why Robbie had told the rebels she was Willy’s woman in the first place, but she didn’t expect such an indecent appraisal from a member of the gentry. “Where is his sense of respect?”

“For himself or for a woman dressed in a crofter’s gown?”

“I am not a slave.”

“No, but as far as Sir Douglas is concerned, if ye are not married, ye are fruit for the plucking.”

“That is preposterous. He’s
married
to Eleanor of Lovain.”

“Aye and his first wife was James Stewart’s sister. He’s a noble with connections with lofty lords. We dunna want to cross him.”

Eva bit her bottom lip. “Because he’s bred of nobility, he has the right to act like an ass?” Her own father was knighted—Sir David MacKay, the UK Ambassador to the US. If anything, the nobles of her time went out of their way to be more congenial.

William opened the door leading into the courtyard and shrugged. “Ye ken as well as I, ye must be respectful when it comes to your betters.”

“Betters?” Eva dug in her heels. “But you are no one’s man. I would expect you to stand up to the likes of Douglas.”

He grasped her elbow and started forward. “Had he placed a hand on ye, I wouldna have stood for it.”

“Right, but it is just fine for him to insult me.”

“Enough.” William clamped his lips together and led her across the courtyard to a monk working in the garden. “Is the abbot in?”

The man pointed. “In his chamber I believe, though we’ll be heading for the devotions of sext soon.”

“I willna be long,” William said, still leading her by the arm. He gave her a sideways glance. “Ye should be familiar with the abbot.”

Her heart squeezed. Must he continue to fixate on the exchange from their first meeting? “You know I am not.”

“I ken ye’ve lied to me.” He glowered as if convincing himself he needed to be rid of her.

Eva yanked her arm away “Which I did when I thought you were an outlaw about to murder me. And must I keep reminding you I will
never
stretch the truth again?”

Without another word, William knocked and stepped inside the abbot’s rooms. Tallow candles burned with black smoke in the center of an oblong table. The threadbare rug curled at the corners. Walter had been right when he mentioned this was not a wealthy order.

The withered man looked up from his seat at the table and stood. “Willy, ’tis good to see ye, lad.”

William greeted the man with an embrace. “Father Semple, I’ve come to ask ye a favor.”

The abbot looked at Eva for the first time and knit his eyebrows. “What is it?”

Pulling Eva forward, Wallace gestured with one hand. “I need ye to take this lassie in and help her find a husband.”

“I don’t want to get married.” Eva yanked her arm away and clutched it tight to her body.

“Willy, what is this?” The abbot gave her a once over. “We dunna take in subjects who are not in need of our assistance.”

“Och, Miss Eva needs help for certain.” William spread his palms to his sides. “She just doesna ken how much.”

Eva rolled her eyes to the exposed beams in the ceiling.

“Please.” Wallace placed his hand on Father Semple’s shoulder. “I’d like to see her cared for, and a rebel’s band is no place for a woman.”

The abbot frowned. “I suppose she can stay in Brother Murdach’s cell. He passed away a fortnight ago.”

William crossed himself. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Not to worry, lad. He is walking with the Lord now.” Father Semple drummed his fingers on his chin. “Are ye another victim of this mindless war with the English, lass?”

Shifting her gaze to William, she nodded. “Aye.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Can ye take her in—at least until the fighting has ended?”

She could only shake her head.
Lord, you have no idea
.

“I suppose I’d be no abbot if I refused.” Father Semple moved toward the door, beckoning with his fingers. “I must away to sext. Come with me, Miss Eva. We live simple lives, and whilst ye’re here, I’ll expect ye to be respectful of our order.”

She glared at William and pursed her lips. “Of course.”

By the holy man’s glum frown, he didn’t seem any happier about taking her in as she did about staying. It didn’t matter one way or the other. She had no intention of remaining behind. Besides, how difficult would it be to track an army?

William gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll never forget ye.” He blinked in succession, then with long strides he hurried out the door.

Eva just stared. Nights of passion reduced to a hasty goodbye? Her entire body went numb while tightness gripped her heart all the way up through her throat.
How could he just turn his back and abandon me?

He’d said by leaving her, he was doing the right thing.

How could he be so wrong?

She followed the abbot through the cloisters while her heart ached.

Left.

Rejected.

Why did every good thing in Eva’s life crumble to nothingness? God, she wanted to scream.

The abbot stopped at a narrow door and pushed it open. The cell was no more than a closet with barely enough room to stand beside a narrow cot. “We live modest lives with few luxuries.” He gestured for her to step inside. “If ye’ll excuse me, I’ve a mass to chant.”

Lips dry, Eva couldn’t manage to make a sound, so she nodded instead. Tears rimmed her eyes as she shuffled inside.

When he closed the door behind him, Eva’s heart skipped a beat. A brown habit and hood hung on a nail.

The vise clamping around William’s heart was exactly what he needed to focus on the battle ahead. At least that’s what he told himself. Heaven help him, he’d been daft to become involved with Eva. And she always twisted every argument to her favor. How could a woman continually sound so bloody right? Well, he needed to end it now, and the battle to come would only serve to release his pent up agony. He never should have let things go so far.

And why did the lass have to look so forlorn when I left?

Blast it, she said she didna want to marry me.

And by God, I canna allow myself to think about marrying her.

Sir Douglas rode beside him. “My spies report a thousand troops marched into Ayr this morn.”

William blinked, snapping from his thoughts. “What is their purpose?”

“Public hangings or irons for all who haven’t sworn fealty to King Edward. Same as always.”

“Ye have proof of this?”

“Who needs proof?” Sir Douglas spurred his mount faster. “They all follow Longshanks and I’ll wager half of them pillaged Lochmaben—same place your da was murdered.”

William’s gut churned. He’d not forgotten the massacre of that day, nor would he ever.

John Blair and the Douglas man-at-arms who had ridden reconnaissance from Fail, galloped through the open lea straight toward them. By the determination on Blair’s face, they’d struck gold.

“What did ye find?” William asked as the riders neared and slowed their mounts.

“’Tis true. There’s an entire army.” Blair looked at Douglas. “But I estimate only a thousand troops, all bedding down in the sheep barns of Ayr.” The priest took in a deep breath. “This could be a grand win for us.”

William caught Sir Douglas’ eye and grinned. “Timing is everything.”

“I say as soon as the last lamp is snuffed, we burn them out.”

William looked back from whence they came. The Douglas cavalry weren’t far behind, but the foot had not yet come into sight. The pikemen provided their greatest muscle. “I say we’ll wait for the infantry to catch up and then we’ll make camp a mile out. It has been a long day. The men will be hungry. They’ll fight better on a full stomach and a good night’s kip.”

“Are ye daft, man?” Sir Douglas spat. “I say we ride now and burn them out.”

“Now?” William looked down the length of his nose. “In daylight? Afore the foot have a chance to move into place
and
after a full day’s march? Ye expect a hundred cavalry men to be victorious against a thousand trained English soldiers?”

Douglas guffawed. “Ye’re soft.”

“And ye’re reckless.” Wallace hailed the cavalry men. “Only the patient man succeeds against a stronger foe. We make camp here and rise afore dawn.”

“Then we set fire to the barns and burn them.”

Wallace nodded his agreement. “We’ll strike with vengeance as they flee.”

Sir Douglas looked stunned. “Ye’re planning to let them out?”

“I woudna kill a man without allowing him a wee chance for a fair fight.”

“Och, ye’ve a lot to learn about war. I all but lost my head in Berwick—would have if I didna sign Longshanks’ Ragman Roll.”

Gut roiling, William regarded the knight. “Ye bore false witness to save your head?”

“Bloody oath I did.” Douglas clamped his hand around his mail-clad throat. “Saved my neck so I could return and murder every last one of them.”

William dismounted. “Ye’ll have your chance—come the darkest hour.”

Grumbling something imperceptible, Sir Douglas led his men a good fifty paces away and gathered them together.

Blair strode up beside William. “I dunna trust a one of them. The man-at-arms wanted to ride clear into the English camp and make a ruckus. That would not have been right—alert the bloody bastards to our presence.”

Wallace peered toward the Douglas camp. “Inform the watch to keep an eye on them. If we lose the element of surprise, we might as well all run for home.”

***

Dressed in the monk’s habit, Eva waited until the chanting from the sanctuary resounded across the monastery grounds, before she slipped out the front gate, somewhat surprised there was no guard posted to stop her, especially since the monastery had been under attack not long ago.

She closed the gate behind her and stood back from the curtain wall. When the monastery had been in ruins, there was no sign of the wall’s existence at all. Had the stones been used to build fences for the paddocks that crisscrossed the modern landscape?

She dug in her satchel for her mobile phone and pushed the “
on”
button.

The battery warning immediately flashed. Clicking “
ok”
, she stood back and snapped a picture.
Good
. She’d caught the angle of the building from the same place where the modern street would one day be paved—now only a narrow dirt trail.

After connecting her solar charger, she placed the phone in her satchel with the solar panel hanging out the side. Alone, she wouldn’t need to worry about prying eyes, and she just might snap a few more pictures that would totally blow away Walter, even if she couldn’t use them in a story.

Hmm. I wonder if the medallion would work in the reverse and send me back to the thirteenth century if I tried to publish pictures from this era.
She laughed out loud
. I doubt anyone would believe me. They’d all think my pictures were Photoshopped.

All set with the hood pulled low over her brow, Eva followed the boggy tracks west. On occasion, she’d catch sight of the tail-end of the entourage as it crested a hill, but she dared not move too near. She couldn’t risk having William discover her and do something that might change the course of the battle.

If her intuition was right, this would be a fight she’d prefer to miss—one she’d like to caution William against.

The medallion burned hot against her flesh. Stopping, Eva clamped her hand over it.
Right. I can change nothing. My job is to observe only
. The burning cooled.

Eva’s feet ached by the time she crested the hill and found the men making camp. The sun glowed orange, low on the horizon. A burn trickled eastward along her path while Eva crept as close as she dared. Two groups set up about a football field apart. The one to the south had fewer men and more horses—that had to be the Douglas contingent.

She snapped another picture.

William’s army included the Stewart pikemen, but she was too far away to make out any individuals.

Next problem. She’d been walking for hours with nothing to eat or drink. Digging in her satchel, she found the granola bars she’d dumped inside a month ago. Her hands shook as she tore the wrapper. As soon as she caught the sweet scent, her salivary glands watered. She shoved half the bar in her mouth and chewed.

Mm
.

Eating mostly meat with the odd bland oatcake, the honey and chocolate sent her taste buds into overdrive. She crammed the rest of the bar in her mouth and reached in her satchel for another. The sugar hit her blood like relief filling her veins and she strode to the burn, dropping to her knees.

The water ran clear and swift. Scooping greedy mouthfuls, she drank her fill. No, she mightn’t be able to survive for long on granola bars and water, but her meager meal would see her through till morning. And the woolen monk’s habit she wore over her clothes would help stave off the cold night air.

Straightening, Eva shook the water from her palms.

A metallic hiss sounded behind her. “Luck is not with ye today, Friar.”