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My Highland Warrior (Warriors of the Highlands Book 1)

Page 17

by Miriam Minger


  She didn’t tarry, but rushed outside through a massive arched doorway into an afternoon grown overcast, the air smelling of rain. The bailey, too, was alive with commotion, grunting clansmen practicing drills with sword and spear that made her keep to the edge of the buildings and out of the way.

  Her heart raced at the masculine voices carrying to her from along the ramparts, but she didn’t dare to look up to try and see Gabriel. She prayed that Conall had gone at once to rejoin him, her sole mission to reach the stable and duck into an empty stall.

  “Och, watch yourself, lass!” came a gruff voice as a man carrying a saddle came very close to knocking her down when Magdalene bolted inside. She barely managed to sidestep him, the telltale squish of horse manure beneath her leather slippers making her groan.

  After the glare of the cloudy sky, the interior of the massive stable with its rows of stalls looked like a tomb, and she used the dim lighting to her advantage by slipping into the closest empty stall she could find. The dark wool of her cloak giving her added cover, Magdalene huddled in the corner and peered out from the narrow slats.

  Watching. Waiting.

  Her heartbeat thundering in her ears. The pungent smell of hay and manure threatening to make her sneeze. Stable boys and armor-clad warriors she didn’t recognize passed to and fro as she kept her forefinger pressed beneath her nose.

  Only then did she wish she had stayed put in her mother’s tower room, the folly of her plan settling over her as still Gabriel didn’t come…the moments passing by.

  Where was he? Had Seoras insisted that he remain with the others as Gabriel had attempted to slip away? Had Conall been waylaid somehow? Surely he had sensed her urgency and that only a matter of great import would have caused her to try and search out her husband!

  Magdalene blinked against the dust in the air, horses snorting and whinnying all around her. The day was growing late and they were clearly restless and hungry. When Gabriel still did not come, she began to think that she should return to her room, for surely by now, that maidservant had awoken.

  Mayhap even raised an alarm to have found Magdalene gone, yet she was supposed to be a lunatic after all. What made more sense than her running off? Such an antic only added credence to her ruse, which she planned to tell Gabriel for she doubted that he would be pleased to seek her out in a stable—

  “Magdalene? By God, woman, where are you?”

  Her heart jumping to hear his voice raised in a tense whisper, she darted to the stall opening just as he strode by, her hand darting out to touch his sleeve.

  “Gabriel, in here—oh!”

  If his voice had held tension, his grip upon her arms was like a vise as he lifted her bodily and carried her back into the corner of the stall, though in the next instant he crushed her against him.

  “Woman, what in blazes?”

  “Forgive me, Gabriel, I had tae see you!” Her outburst more an impassioned whisper, she shifted in his arms so her ear wasn’t pressed so painfully against his leather armor. “Listen carefully, please! Remember that maidservant who appeared at the door just before you left? Cora, Seoras’s wife, sent her tae fetch me tae her chamber! Oh, Gabriel, I’ve such terrible news. I didna know when you’d return so I might tell you—”

  “Shh, Maggie, wait—wait!” he cut her off, drawing her deeper into the stall.

  He still held her close as an outcry of alarm could be heard out in the bailey—a young woman screaming to anyone that might hear that Lady MacLachlan was missing—och, she was the one missing!

  “What news?” Gabriel urged her with a tautness in his voice as if sensing she wouldn’t have taken such a drastic measure to find him if it wasn’t important. “Maggie?”

  “Your brother, Malcolm—Cora said Seoras had him murdered! One of his men named Tavish committed the deed. She hates Seoras, Gabriel! Cora told me that the Campbells were soon to rise up against him—her people, her clan!”

  Magdalene felt as if she were babbling now, Gabriel grown very still while she kept her voice to a breathless whisper and did her best to share with him everything Cora had told her.

  Everything except how much she loved him, the hue and cry outside growing louder as a man bellowed near the entrance, “Why, I saw her run into the stable! I was carrying a saddle and nearly struck her—och, she must still be in there!”

  “No more, Maggie, say nothing more,” was all Gabriel bade her in a dead-sounding voice she didn’t recognize before he lifted her off her feet and carried her from the stall.

  A few powerful strides and they were outside in the bailey, Magdalene blinking against the rain pelting her face as Gabriel roared, “I’ve found her! One of my captains came tae tell me my wife escaped from the tower and ran for the stable—but what else would a crazed woman do? Mad Maggie is found!”

  “Good! Leave her and rejoin us!” Seoras shouted from a high rampart, a chill plummeting to her toes at how Gabriel’s face had hardened at the sound of her brother’s voice. “The servants will escort her back upstairs—and this time, they had better watch her more carefully!”

  Gabriel gave a terse nod, but he didn’t set her down until they had reached the entranceway that Magdalene had fled from no more than a half hour past—though it had seemed an eternity while she’d awaited him so anxiously in the stable.

  Right there to greet them was the red-haired maidservant, her face flushed as she glanced with apprehension at Seoras striding along the ramparts with his entourage and then back to Gabriel.

  “We’ll see to her, Laird, forgive me!”

  He didn’t respond, his gaze as hard as his expression as he gave Magdalene over to the girl and several other maidservants who had gathered, which made apprehension sluice through her.

  God in heaven, had he not believed her? As if reading her mind, he brushed his fingers across her cheek so fleetingly that she might have imagined it—and they held tension, too.

  “See that she’s brought tae me for the feast,” was all he said before he strode away, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

  His knuckles white.

  His massive shoulders stiff.

  Magdalene sensing a terrible tempest brewing within him as a violent crack of thunder made her jump, the maidservants surrounding her and pulling her none-too-gently inside.

  Chapter 22

  “I want tae kill Tavish tonight. Grant me the honor, Gabriel.”

  He shook his head at Cameron, who flanked him along with Alun and Conall.

  All of them grim-faced as they paused outside the great hall lit with blazing torches, and surveyed the raucous scene unfolding.

  As the other barons and their men had rushed inside with Seoras to get out of the pouring rain, Gabriel had held his captains back beneath an eave to tell them what Magdalene had revealed to him.

  Their faces stunned at first and then hardening into thunderous expressions that matched his own. A tic worked along his jaw, clenched so tightly as he glanced into the hall at the dais where Seoras had taken his seat and shouted for the feast to commence early.

  The entire room had erupted into a frenzy as servants rushed to serve ale and wine to everyone, including the MacDougall clansman called Tavish who stood at attention behind Seoras’s chair.

  A burly bodyguard with dark red hair and a full beard, his heavily muscled arms crossed over his barrel chest.

  A henchman.

  A murderer if what Cora had told Magdalene was true…and Gabriel had no doubt of it, knowing Seoras as he did, the events of the last eight months falling together with deadly precision in his mind.

  Malcolm’s untimely death…deemed a tragic accident, though clearly Seoras had known of his brother’s empty coffers, and used that knowledge to destroy him.

  He could have wed Magdalene to Malcolm, a widower, but Seoras had known, too, that his older brother was weak. Not a fighter like Gabriel, a powerful baron far more useful to him…so Seoras had sent his clansman to kill him.

  Tavish.
/>   Such fury filled Gabriel that he could barely restrain himself from striding to the dais and drawing his sword to lop off the bastard’s head.

  His captains, too, clenched the hilts of their swords, but one glance from Gabriel made them ease their hands away.

  “We need tae get him alone first…mayhap after the feast. He’ll tell us what happened once he feels a blade at his throat and then we’ll have proof of his crime—Seoras’s crime.”

  “Aye, Gabriel,” came a joint assent from his men, but they fell silent as the lady of the fortress, Cora MacDougall, drew near, accompanied by an entourage of women dressed resplendently for the feast.

  Courtiers’ wives and daughters, many of them giggling into their palms as they spied Gabriel, who remembered all too well that same tittering when he’d agreed to take Magdalene as his bride.

  Now he thanked God for that day…but then—och, a different matter altogether! He could only imagine their startled faces if they knew she was no lunatic, but as close to perfection as any woman under heaven.

  “Laird MacLachlan,” Cora greeted him. Her expression appeared serene though her eyes, matching the dark blue sapphire of her gown, searched his as if she wondered whether Magdalene had spoken to him.

  Surely she had seen him from her window, carrying his wife back to the tower—that same window where Magdalene had told him Cora gleaned that she wasn’t a madwoman at all. That alone should tell her that Gabriel knew the truth behind Malcolm’s death, though he sensed that Cora was hoping for some sign…

  “Countess,” he said with a slight bow of his head, though his gaze never left hers. “You remember your cousins, Cameron and Conall…”

  “Aye, it’s so good tae see you again,” she murmured, extending her hand to greet them both.

  Gabriel wasn’t surprised when Conall didn’t stop there, but grabbed Cora and hugged her while the rest of the women gasped with astonishment.

  “Dinna lose heart,” Conall whispered in her ear, barely loud enough for Gabriel to hear. At once he saw tears glistening in her eyes, but she swallowed them back and lifted her chin to stare not at her handsome cousin, but at him.

  “We’ve many Campbells among us here…more, I’d wager, than even MacDougalls. I take comfort in having my kinsmen near. Did you travel with many?”

  “Sixty warriors. They’re in the barracks dining upon bread and mutton stew.”

  “Aye, my husband reserves these occasions for his courtiers and honored guests like yourself and your captains…yet I’m sure your clansmen would answer the call if you had need of them.”

  “They’re well trained, Countess, their allegiance unquestioned to myself—and Earl Seoras.” Not wishing to converse further about so perilous a subject, however veiled, Gabriel pointedly inclined his head toward the great hall. “Shall I escort you tae the dais?”

  “My thanks, Laird MacLachlan, but no. Your lady should be joining you soon, aye?”

  Gabriel nodded, though in truth he was surprised that Magdalene hadn’t yet come down the tower steps with her maidservants in tow. He hated that she must play the lunatic for even another day, another hour, but if it might protect her in any way, then they would both have to bear it.

  He only hoped she wasn’t tussling with those women as she had done with poor Euna and Donella, but mayhap she wished to make an entrance with her gown askew and her hair disheveled—

  “Ah, look, here she comes now,” Cora announced softly as fresh titters went up from the women who turned to look behind them.

  Yet almost at once, the titters ceased and murmurs of astonishment filled the air as Magdalene walked down the last few steps—looking more radiantly beautiful than Gabriel had ever seen her.

  Her gown—surely the finest from poor Anna’s wardrobe—an iridescent silk the color of gold that clung to the perfection of her curves.

  Her long tawny hair brushed to a sheen as luminous as what she wore, her cheeks flushed a soft pink, and her incomparable sea green eyes seeking out his…only his.

  Gabriel felt such emotion welling inside him that he stood stock-still, simply staring at Magdalene while she gave him the sweetest childlike smile—ah, he understood now.

  No crazed lunatic for this evening, but docile and pliant…which would make her appear all the more unpredictable after the wild laughter that had flown earlier from the tower.

  As Cora gestured to her entourage to accompany her into the great hall, Gabriel went to Magdalene and waved away the two maidservants following close behind.

  “I’ll tend tae my wife now.”

  The young women looked doubtful, and quite flush-faced. Gabriel felt certain that Magdalene had given them trouble after all while helping her change her gown for the feast, but they acquiesced with quick bows and then hastened away.

  “My thanks, husband,” she murmured for his ears alone as she laid her hand in his, Gabriel feeling a tug in his chest at the touch of her fingers. “I’ve had my fill of servants dogging me for one day.”

  “I dinna doubt it, my love,” he whispered back, wanting so badly to reach out and stroke the softness of her cheek, her hair. Yet he could feel the weight of countless pairs of eyes boring into his back, their entrance into the great hall sure to create a stir.

  That thought made him bristle. He could already hear the courtiers’ laughter, and his hand must have grown tense for Magdalene gently squeezed his fingers.

  “A time of reckoning will come, husband…for all.”

  He didn’t feel soothed by her words, only grimly resolute as once more the reality that Seoras had ordered Malcolm’s death overtook him.

  Alun, Cameron, and Conall must have sensed his thoughts, for they looked equally somber as they turned and strode into the great hall…leaving Gabriel with Magdalene to make their entrance alone, hand in hand.

  Aye, he would pray for that reckoning, he told himself fiercely as he escorted her into what he had long imagined would be raucous laughter resounding from the rafters and blatant finger-pointing.

  At him. At the young woman they knew as Mad Maggie. Yet strangely the hall had grown quiet but for servants rushing to fill cups and setting trenchers of food upon the long tables.

  Everyone staring as she smiled sweetly from one end of the vast room to the other, her unrivaled beauty alone enough to render everyone speechless.

  Even the servants stopped to stare, until Seoras’s roar of outrage sent them all scurrying like frightened mice.

  “Damnation! Are we tae eat or stare like fools at my sister? Aye, she’s lovely—for a lunatic, but dinna forget she’ll be drooling all over herself before the night is done!”

  That pronouncement seemed to break everyone from Magdalene’s spell. Now laughter exploded around Gabriel—though he scarcely heard it.

  As they reached the dais, his gaze settled upon Tavish, and all Gabriel could see in his mind’s eye was the man’s big callused hands around Malcolm’s neck.

  Twisting the life from his brother…at Seoras’s command. Tavish glanced at him and then quickly looked away—the nervous twitch in his cheek confirming his guilt to Gabriel then and there.

  “Sit here at my left, MacLachlan! You and your bride!”

  Somehow Gabriel moved his feet to oblige Seoras, who already held a joint of roasted meat in his hand and waved it like a scepter.

  All around them, his courtiers and barons and their own captains set upon the food like ravenous dogs. No pause even for a prayer from a white-haired priest who stood off to one side, the man clearly accustomed to such coarse behavior as he seemed to heave a sigh and made the sign of the Cross over the room.

  Yet not all the barons had fallen upon the steaming platters, nor all the warriors in attendance. A fair number seemed to be waiting for Gabriel to sit down after he had settled Magdalene into a chair, Seoras guzzling wine and thankfully not noticing.

  Cora had noticed, though, seated to her husband’s right and making no move to reach for anything to eat or drink. At least not u
ntil Gabriel had taken a seat and reached for his cup, already filled to the brim with wine.

  At once those that had appeared reluctant to begin their meal did so, which made Gabriel as certain as he breathed that he wasn’t the only one there who held ill will toward Seoras.

  He had sensed it earlier just as he did now, an underlying current of barely contained resentment that seemed ready to boil over at any moment—if only the fire grew hot enough.

  Those barons, too, had seen the rotting bodies alongside the road, Seoras savaging his own people.

  Mayhap his treatment of Gabriel had turned their stomachs as well, for most of them had been present when he had agreed to wed Magdalene in exchange for coin to save his people.

  No doubt they had wondered what bargain Seoras would demand of them if they ever needed to ask for anything—och, had they lost family members, too, to his heartless ambition?

  “Eat, MacLachlan!” commanded Seoras, Gabriel seeing Cora flinch as if she couldn’t bear the sound of her husband’s raised voice. “We’ve entertainment tae follow the meal and I dinna mean your bonny bride!”

  A great roar went up from his courtiers nearby who heard his pronouncement, a wave of excited voices reaching Gabriel.

  “Did you hear? Earl Seoras is going tae execute the prisoners tonight!”

  “All of them—or mayhap only one or two? I’d heard he planned tae burn them at the stake until the rainstorm came up.”

  “Aye, I would have enjoyed hearing their screams—accursed traitors! If Robert the Bruce marches upon us, he’s sure tae find whatever’s left of his men hanging from the ramparts—”

  “And their heads on pikes! Do you think he’ll want tae fight then? Ha! He and his men will turn tail and run and Earl Seoras will be right behind tae cut them down!”

  “They deserve no less after that night raid on our forces—led by King Robert himself, if the rumor is tae be believed. He’ll not be king of Scots for much longer if the earl has aught tae say about it!”

  Gabriel clenched his cup, for it was the first time he’d heard that Robert the Bruce had led the raid cited by Seoras’s messenger—yet how could that be?

 

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