The Saint

by Allison Butler

  She looked small, delicate …

  ‘Something smells delicious,’ she said, lifting her chin to sniff the air, a small smile now playing about her mouth.

  She looked delicious. Cal didn’t truly understand what the thought meant. His stomach tightened. He cleared his throat and forced his legs to move forward and carried the tray to the table. He removed the washbowl and set it on the floor before setting the food down. ‘There’s beef stew and ale, if you’re hungry.’

  ‘Oh, aye,’ she said, dragging her fingertips along the roughened wall toward him.

  ‘Come and sit here at the table,’ he said, noting she was using the sound of his voice to guide her. ‘You’ve been busy while I was gone.’

  ‘I thought to dry out my gown and apron and yer shirt. I hope ye dinnae mind.’

  ‘Nae at all.’ No one saw to his garments, except him. He liked being self-sufficient in every way, but seeing Isla tend to his shirt somehow seemed right.

  ‘I was lucky to find the hooks on this side of the room. I haven’t explored the other yet.’

  Lucky wasn’t the word he’d use for describing how she’d found the hooks. Clever would suit him better. She surprised him, again. He stepped forward and lifted the iron brazier out of her path and returned to his place by the second chair.

  ‘There’s a small table with a wooden washbowl and two chairs.’ She nodded, a look of concentration on her face. ‘There’s also an iron brazier filled with wood that I will move closer to where you’ve hung our clothes. Once lit, it should help them dry faster.’

  ‘What did Mungo think of his new lodgings?’

  ‘Mungo settled well,’ Cal said, more pleased with her concern for his horse’s happiness than was wise. ‘Here,’ he stepped toward her and grasped her floating fingers. They curled about his. ‘Let me seat you.’ He took her elbow with his other hand and guided her into the closest chair.

  ‘Thank ye.’

  Cal noticed the colour filling her cheeks as he moved one bowl and one cup from the tray to the table directly in front of her. ‘There’s a wooden spoon in the stew and the ale is to your right.’

  She nodded and her lips stretched into a smile that never formed. ‘Are ye eating?’ She asked, carefully taking up the bowl and holding it before her.

  He set the tray on the end of the bed and fetched the sack with the flint. ‘Aye, once I’ve lit the brazier.’ The kindling took flame quickly and Cal sat on the bed to eat his stew. It was still warm and was the tastiest meal he’d eaten in days. He drank the ale and stood to gather and return their empty bowls and cups to the tray.

  ‘Did ye see anyone while ye were gone?’

  ‘Only the innkeepers, Keddy and Mags.’ She nodded but he witnessed how her fingers were twisting together on top of the table. He stepped closer and placed his hand over hers. ‘I willnae let anyone stop you from reaching Restenneth Priory, Isla.’ He knew how desperate she was to get there and he hoped the tone of sincerity in his words only intensified their meaning. ‘You are safe here with me, but I need you to promise to stay within the room while I get some sleep.’ He squeezed her hands and released them. ‘There is only one bed, but I am happy to sleep on the floor.’ It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done so.

  ‘I’m nae tired and am content to sit where I am while ye sleep. I’ll just fetch my sack.’ She made to rise.

  ‘Stay where you are. I’ll get it for you.’ Cal retrieved her sack, briefly wondering at its contents. ‘Here.’ He offered it to her. ‘I dinnae need to sleep for long. If you need anything, wake me.’

  She nodded. ‘Sleep well.’

  Cal lifted the second chair and positioned it against the door beneath the latch. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it would alert them if someone tried to open the door without their consent.

  He crossed the room, drawing his sword and dagger, and laid both weapons on the bed. Keeping his back to Isla, he removed his plaid, noting most of the moisture from the rain had seeped down into the hem of the heavy garment. He snatched up the woollen blanket and wrapped it about his waist, before removing his leather vest and shirt and hanging the garments on the remaining hooks. The heat from the growing fire in the brazier would help their clothes to dry. With a last glance at the woman sitting quietly, Cal settled on the bed, still wearing his boots. He closed his eyes and wondered what Isla saw alone in her darkness.

  Chapter 9

  Heat from the fire in the small inn room bathed the bare skin between Cal’s shoulders and threatened to lull him back to sleep.

  Isla.

  The thought of the woman he’d vowed to keep safe had him sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes wide open, scanning the room before the need to do so even registered. She sat in the chair where she’d been sitting before he’d fallen asleep only a moment or two after he’d closed his eyes. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so tired. He rubbed his palms up and down over his face to erase the last vestiges of sleep.

  ‘Ye dinnae sleep for long.’ Her words were soft and held a hint of concern. She knew he was awake despite not being able to see him.

  ‘It was enough.’ He’d slept deeply, with no unwanted dreams or unsettling memories. He stood and walked to the window to open the shutter wide enough for him to look through. ‘And you?’ What had she done to fill the time while he’d slept?

  ‘I am well,’ she turned her head and followed his movements across the room. ‘Though I would … I do need …’ She ducked her head.

  Cal turned his gaze from the midmorning light outside to the empty pot on the floor near the head of the bed. ‘Give me time to dress and I will leave you for a few moments.’ He strode around the fire in the brazier to grab his plaid, and keeping his back to Isla, he dropped the blanket and quickly wound the almost dry garment about his waist. He snatched his shirt and vest from the next hook and put both on, then gathered and sheathed his sword and dagger at his waist. Lastly, he retrieved the chamber-pot covered with a square of cloth and carried it to where she was sitting.

  ‘I’ll place the chamber-pot at your feet.’ He lowered it to the floor and then collected the bowls and cups and set them on the tray. Lifting the lot, he headed for the door. ‘I will knock twice on my return.’

  She nodded and said, ‘Thank ye.’

  Cal moved the chair from leaning against the door and slipped out into the passageway. Cool air swept around his knees and brushed his face and neck as he closed the door behind him. He’d return the tray to the bar room and see if any of the travellers Keddy believed would come had arrived. As he slowly followed the corridor, numerous voices floated down the hall to meet him. He stopped in the shadows toward the end and listened, separating conversations, hoping none involved he and Isla.

  ‘Wild storm last night …’ ‘Mags always makes a fine beef stew …’ ‘They be newlyweds.’

  Cal concentrated on the last snippet of conversation. ‘’Twas obvious by the way the lad was carrying her. Even gave him the eye, but he paid nae never mind ta me and ye ken how upsetting that is, Dalziel.’

  Cal didn’t listen to any more. He didn’t have to. Dalziel wasn’t an overly common name and by the sounds of Mags’ conversation, she was well-acquainted with the man. Still holding the tray, Cal retraced his steps along the corridor, past closed doors, hoping none would open until he’d returned to his room. How Dalziel had caught up with them so quickly, he had no clue, but he doubted the man had come alone.

  He reached the last door and rapped twice. He didn’t wait for her to welcome him in, there wasn’t time. He opened the door wide. Isla turned to face him. ‘What is it?’

  He closed the door and strode straight to her side, setting the empty tray back on the table. ‘Dalziel has come. We need to go, quickly. Stay here while I gather our things.’

  ‘Does Conan travel with him?’

  Snatching up his own sack, Cal strode about the room, gathering their belongings and shoving them all within. ‘Who is Conan?’

  ‘Dalziel�
�s protector.’

  Cal stopped by the window and dropped his sack to the floor. Her betrothed had his own protector? Opening the shutter, he peered outside and found no sign of anyone. ‘I saw no one, only heard Mags telling a man named Dalziel about her newlywed guests.’ He walked to where Isla stood stiff and silent. ‘I’m going to pick you up and help you out the window.’ She nodded and he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the opening sitting chest-height on the wall. ‘Lift your feet through.’ He guided her booted feet over the sill and sat her on the ledge while supporting her back.

  ‘Turn onto your stomach. I won’t let you go.’ She reached one arm across her slender form and twisted about. Cal shifted his hold to beneath her arms, his fingers, his palms so close to her breasts. ‘I’ll lower you down. Let me know when your feet touch the ground. I won’t let you go until you can stand,’ he said softly. ‘Ready?’

  She nodded briskly and whispered, Aye.’

  He captured her weight in his hands and lowered her outside. Her hands grasped his forearms, her knuckles white. ‘Almost there,’ he said softly, leaning further through the opening.

  ‘My toes. I can feel the ground.’

  ‘Good, now stay against the wall but move to your left so I can climb through.’

  She did as he bid and once more the wonder of her total trust in him hit him like a blow to his chest.

  He reached down, grabbed the sack and dropped it through the opening, and pulled himself up onto the ledge. Due to his larger size, there was no room for him to turn. With a powerful push against the outer wall with his hands, he dived out the window and rolled head over heels and found his feet. Dusting himself off, he snatched up the sack and dashed to Isla’s side. Taking her hand, he turned and placed her fingers on his back. ‘Hold my vest, stay quiet and don’t let go.’

  They crept along the short side of the inn and he drew them to a halt when they reached the corner. Cal peered around the end of the building, and finding the area between the inn and stable deserted, he gave one long, low whistle. In the short time it took for Mungo to respond to his summons, Cal noticed the physical closeness of the woman standing pressed against his back and the hurried pounding of his heart.

  Mungo darted out from the stable and Cal gave another shorter whistle to alert his horse to where they were. Mungo trotted straight over to where they waited and stopped long enough for Cal to turn and lift Isla into the saddle before mounting himself. With a nudge of his knees, Cal gave Mungo his leave and they were off down the side trail they’d followed to reach the inn and then back onto the Causey Mounth.

  They couldn’t stay this path as they were out in the open and the sun was still climbing to its peak in the cloud-dotted sky. He needed to find them a place to hide until night fell and there would be less risk of someone seeing them.

  He peered back over his shoulder, hoping their absence hadn’t yet been discovered. He saw no one. Luck was with them, but for how long? This track would be the main travel route for anyone heading north or south. Facing forward, he steered Mungo a short distance off the trail toward a thin line of trees on the west side. The trunks would give them shelter if they did come across others and though the grass was longer here, and despite the storm the night before, the ground was firm enough for Mungo to traverse without risking a broken leg or tearing open his coat on the coarse bracken.

  ‘I hear running water,’ Isla said softly over her shoulder.

  A full breath after she’d spoken, Cal heard it too, and after several more ongoing steps, he saw the sun’s light glinting on the surface of a gurgling burn. Half a breath later, a shout and the unmistakable sound of galloping hooves rushed up from behind. With a tug of the reins to the right, Cal steered Mungo within the trees. ‘Lean forward.’ Her body bent like a willow and his body followed hers like it was the breeze. They passed under the low branches, and once confident they couldn’t be seen by whomever he’d heard riding in haste along the road they’d recently left, he straightened in his saddle and peered out through the leaves.

  Within moments, two mounted men rode the path south directly in front of where they sheltered in the trees.

  ‘Who are they? Do ye know them?’ Isla asked quietly as she too sat upright.

  ‘There are two men. One is older and of an average size. The second is the size of a mountain.’ Both appeared to be well dressed. Both also had a look of determination on their faces.

  ‘’Tis Conan and the other man must be Dalziel.’ Cal didn’t miss Isla’s faint shiver. ‘The two travel everywhere together.’

  Cal watched the riders until they disappeared from view. ‘Does Dalziel know about your wish to go to Restenneth Priory?’ If he was aware, their journey would be more difficult.

  ‘I doubt Father shared my plan to go there. But I cannae be certain if he knows my uncle lives there.’

  ‘Is your uncle a priest?’ If he was, his promise to take her to the priory made more sense.

  ‘Aye. Uncle Norval is Father’s wee brother. I only remember meeting him once. He came to Aberdeen nine years ago when my mother and baby brother were laid to rest.’ She lifted her chin. ‘He left the next day. My uncle is the only family I have left.’ Her lilting voice was dulled by sorrow and an underlying note of loneliness he well understood.

  Cal wanted to touch her. She was so close, sitting before him in the saddle, within easy reach. But if he did, he was afraid he wouldn’t want to let her go. Instead his gaze followed the path of her thick chestnut braid, darker now in the shade of the trees. ‘It matters naught if Dalziel knows about the priory or not. We travel in the same direction, but we now have the advantage.’

  She turned her head, her braid skimming the back of her gown with the movement. Her delicate jaw was now within his view. The urge to lift his hand and gently run the back of one finger from the hollow point just below her ear to the downward angle of her chin was strong. He clenched his jaw and closed his hand tight about the leather reins.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘We will nae have to wait until dark to move on. We will now be following them.’

  * * *

  Isla straightened once more after leaning forward to avoid the low branches they’d been hiding beneath. The warmth of the sun splashed her face as they turned to the right and emerged out into the open. She welcomed its heat, along with the freshening breeze rustling the wisps of hair about her face.

  She drew a deep breath, the air lacking the usual saltiness of the sea, telling her the coastline to the east was further away here. Instead, the smell of an assortment of damp foliage from last night’s rain and late summer blooms, likely bobbing their colourful heads with the gentle wind left a fresh taste on her tongue. She was tired of hiding. But now having Dalziel and Conan riding ahead, she didn’t feel like the prey she’d become now her father was dead. She drew a deeper breath, but this one was bitter with loss.

  They hadn’t gone far when the man behind her drew them to a halt.

  ‘The burn runs fast here. I’ll fill the skin and then we’ll continue south.’

  Isla nodded but didn’t speak. She was too busy sinking into thoughts of all she’d lost, most recently her father, fighting the pull of self-pity and loneliness. She kept sinking.

  The man sitting close behind her dismounted and the beast beneath her sidled to the right. She tightened her grip on the pommel and her knees clamped against the horse’s sides. She was alone, high up on Mungo’s back, but she wasn’t fully alone. He was leaving to fetch water. He was coming back. She concentrated on the sound of grasses and brittle foliage giving way beneath his booted feet. Anything was better than being sucked down into her own well of self-pity and loneliness.

  The crushing footfalls stopped. A faint crack, like the noise two sticks being hit against one another made. The same sound her knees often made when she crouched low to retrieve something she’d dropped from the ground. The same sound she’d heard from across the peat fire during the storm.

&nbs
p; Water gurgled louder, as if something interfered with its running path. He’d reached the burn. He was refilling the skin. He’d soon return and she’d no longer be alone, high up on his horse’s back.

  Callum. A man of mystery. She focused on his returning steps. Each was sure and precise, measured, as if he were in full control of where he was going and why. He was going home, but he hadn’t found what he was searching for. How she wished she could help him find his mother. Such a foolish thought. She couldn’t even get herself to where she wanted, nae, where she needed to go.

  Movement stirred the air about her bare left knee. Caught up in her thoughts, she’d lost track of his whereabouts. Callum’s footsteps stopped as he paused beside his horse.

  ‘Are you thirsty?’

  ‘Nae.’

  Faint sounds followed her reply and she guessed he was securing the now-filled skin to his saddle. Something brushed the heel of her boot and then he was there in the saddle behind her. Isla drew her first full breath since he’d dismounted.

  He leaned forward. His chest skimmed her shoulder as he gathered the reins. ‘Ready?’ he asked quietly as he settled back behind her. Close but not touching.

  ‘Aye.’ She was ready to continue their journey south, but she wanted him to wrap his arm about her and draw her back against him. Into the heat of his body. Like he had before. She didn’t know why she felt so safe in his arms. She just did. She wanted to feel that security surrounding her now.

  Mungo started forward and the urge to ask him to hold her close grew more powerful with every step, while he seemed to be ensuring their bodies didn’t touch. ‘Tell me about the lands around us.’ She needed something to occupy her mind.

  ‘What do you want to know?’ His voice wasn’t low and deep as usual. He wasn’t comfortable with her request.

  She loathed being a burden in any way but it had been so long since she’d seen anything and her precious memories were growing dim. ‘Just tell me what ye see.’