by Mary Wine
“But only if we hurry, and even then we shall have to ride like the demons of hell are upon us.”
“Or like the gates of Birch Stone are the golden ones that open into paradise.”
Connor laughed, a low sound that she would have expected to hear him using with a man who had impressed him with his cunning. She grinned, enjoying the moment.
“Well then, my hellcat, let us see if ye can use yer temperament on the Douglas, for it’s a truth that they consider themselves hard to humble.”
***
Brina walked through the hallways of the palace without gaining a second look from anyone. She suddenly thought kindly of Newlyn, her father’s head of house, and every switch that redoubtable head of house had applied to her ankles, for she knew how to move so that the skirts of her robe remained even with the floor. There wasn’t a single motion from her hips, her walk smooth and practiced to make sure that she appeared like a statue until someone noticed that she was in fact moving.
The palace was full of Douglas retainers. They served as the royal guard and marched through the hallways, but for the moment it was too early for most of the inhabitants to be awake. It was the time of day that lovers left the beds they had shared for the night and returned to the places where they were expected to be.
It was also the time when those who served the church began to perform their duties so that sins might be absolved.
Discovering where Vanora was sleeping took silver pressed into the hands of the servants. Many of the nobles failed to recall that there was a quiet army of people serving them. The lieutenant general had grown so arrogant that he forgot to reward the boy who polished his fine drinking cup every morning or the maid who tended to his boots after he went to sleep. There were hundreds of servants who took pride in their duties, but that did not mean that they were content to be told it was their place.
“What are ye seeking, mistress?”
Brina kept her eyes veiled as she glided to a halt in front of a set of doors. The Douglas retainer wasn’t really interested in what she was doing there; his gaze drifted to the two maids bringing fresh bedding down the hallway.
“I seek the Mistress Vanora and was told she is here.”
The retainer shifted his eyes to her while he frowned. “Mistress Vanora is departing this morning.”
“Yes, she is.” Brina felt relief surge through her for the fact that she did not have to lie. “I am come to fetch her.”
“The earl wants to see her before she goes? Aye, I can understand that.”
He reached over and opened the door. Brina felt a trickle of sweat go down her back in spite of the winter weather. She moved into the chambers beyond the doors, and a maid looked up from where she was tending a fireplace.
“I seek the Mistress Vanora, please.”
The maid studied her for a moment but dusted off her hands before quitting the room. It took every bit of self-discipline Brina had ever been forced to foster to maintain her position and not give in to the urge to pace.
There was a scamper on the hard floor, and a young girl came through the doorway. She had that spark of life that the young seemed to always have in their eyes, but it didn’t go any further. Her lips were pressed into a firm line that didn’t convey either happiness or unhappiness, only sedateness.
The maid appeared with a cloak and set it on Vanora’s shoulders before she raised the hood and handed the girl a prayer book.
Brina felt her heart rate increasing, and she tried to force her breaths to come slowly and evenly, but for all her training to be meek and unnoticeable, she had never practiced how to deceive. The maid obviously thought she was taking Vanora to confession, and Brina forced herself to allow the deception to stand.
She turned and retraced her steps to the door, with Vanora following. The Douglas retainer didn’t give them much of his attention, allowing them both to quietly walk down the hallway. Every step felt as though it took too long, but Brina forced herself to continue with her even pace. They turned the corner, and she drew a deep breath for having made it out of sight of the main doorway that led to the Douglas rooms. The palace was a huge complex with a labyrinth of hallways and wings.
But the calm did not last. Brina heard the raised voices before the Douglas retainer opened the door to allow the commotion to flood the hallway.
“Are ye insane? The master will hang ye if ye lose that girl!”
“Come on, Vanora!”
The girl looked shocked, her eyes as wide as saucers while she looked over her shoulder and then back to Brina. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
“I am Brina Chattan. If ye want to return to yer brother’s lands, come with me now.”
“I do.” Vanora squeaked out the pair of words even as they heard more coming from the chambers of the Douglas.
“Get after her, and ye’d better go quickly before she flees. She’s no babe any longer to fear being on her own.”
There was a pounding of boots while Brina searched their surroundings frantically for any place to take refuge. Two maids came out of a narrow door with their hands full of shirts that looked as though they had just been pressed.
“This way.”
She tugged Vanora toward the door and opened it. The air on the other side was hot and moist with a heavy scent of smoke. It was a servants’ entry to the laundry, and she pulled Vanora through it without any pity for the shock on the girl’s face.
They needed all God’s mercy to see them safely away, for the moment the door closed, she heard the heavy footfalls of the Douglas retainers passing by.
Nine
“The vestments are hanging over there.” Brina looked up at a plump woman who was directing the dozen maids who were using flatirons. Small boys hunched over next to the huge hearths and worked billows to blow more air onto the fires. The flames flared up, making the room hot and heating the irons so that they sizzled when pressed against the fabric the girls were trying to press.
“And make sure yer hands are clean so that ye do nae smudge them.”
Brina lowered herself, and Vanora followed her example. The woman waved them away before returning to ordering her staff about. Every maid kept her eyes on her work, obviously because their mistress was quick to notice when their attention wandered.
Brina heard Vanora gulp when they took the vestments, but the girl maintained her silence as they headed out the door. They could be locked in the stock for even touching something as valuable as the church robes without permission. They were made of the finest fabric and edged with purple velvet that was sewn with pearls and gold bangles.
But the vestments also made a good shield to hide their faces as they made their way through the back passageways. The windows there were large and already had their wooden shutters open so that the morning air could carry away some of the smoke.
That also allowed the scent of the stables to drift in. Holyrood had an immense stable structure built behind the main palace. The distance kept the foul smells from becoming too noxious.
All the main gates would be manned by Douglas retainers looking for them, but it was possible that they might slip out if they were willing to be humble.
“This way.”
Brina hurried Vanora along, and they left the vestments on two hooks that were bare because the cloaks that had hung there were now being used. But the freshly pressed cream linen looked out of place in the back doorway of a kitchen and they would point the direction that they had traveled without a doubt.
“Hang yer cloak over them.”
Vanora smiled and quickly unhooked her dark cloak. It was of finer fabric and lacked any rips or holes, but for the most part it was simply dark and nondescript. Once it was hung, it covered the vestments well.
Brina looked around the area and bent over to pick up a pail piled high with slop. Vanora sat her prayer book aside and picked up a second
bucket. Stepping outside, Brina took a deep breath and said a short prayer. Brina felt the muscles running up and down her back tightening unbearably. Her heart was beating too fast, and every sound seemed too loud as she waited for someone to yell at them to halt.
Instead they carried their slop buckets across the yard and into the stables. There, the sounds of horses mingled with the conversation of boys working to clean the stalls.
“What do we do now? Two women will never make it past the gate, no’ with you wearing that nun’s robe. It shall be very easy to spot.”
Vanora had kept her voice low, but that didn’t prevent Brina from hearing the defeat in it. Brina looked around the stable. There was a large hearth with anvils near it, but there were no blacksmiths working just yet. Instead there were many lengths of plaid still lying on the benches and shelves, telling her that the stable hands had risen to tend to the milking and left their beds for folding after they took the milk to the kitchens.
“I must change, and ye too.”
Vanora looked at the clothing at hand. There were shirts hanging from pegs and lengths of plaids too.
“But as boys? Do you nae fear the wrath of the church? Look what became of Joan of Arc for wearing men’s clothing.”
“I fear being caught by the Douglas more.”
Vanora snapped her mouth shut and contemplated that idea. “I agree.”
Once the words were spoken, the girl flew into action. She hastily pleated up two of the lengths of plaid. Brina found herself staring at the ease with which the girl performed what was largely considered a male task.
“They made me practice a lot so that I might be a good wife, able to serve my husband in all tasks.” She said it scornfully but didn’t hesitate to pull her dress off and reach for a shirt. Brina gasped when she viewed the girl’s back. Long purple bruises marred it, making the path of a switching.
Vanora shrugged into one of the shirts and turned suspicious eyes toward her.
“Show me yer back. I want to know what sort of man my brother is.”
Brina pulled her underrobe up and over her head before turning around to allow Vanora to view her. She heard the girl sigh before she pulled a thick belt off a bench and used it to secure the pleated plaid about her waist. Brina did the same in spite of seeing Newlyn’s disapproving face rise from her memory as she did so.
There were plenty who would tell them that dressing as boys argued against their place in life and therefore against God’s choice to make them female. For the moment, Brina refused to allow that to keep her from escaping. Her future was twinkling with promise just on the other side of the walls. What did she care if the Douglas despised her for her actions? Court was not a place that she longed to be. Besides, in time their success would be admired, even if it was despised today.
That was Scottish humor.
“Yer brother is a good man, Vanora.”
“He must be to have ye going to such trouble to fetch me.” The girl handed her a bonnet, which sat on her head quite comfortably, but it failed to hide the length of her hair.
“Pull yer plaid up; it’s still cold enough.”
The length of plaid that was draped across their backs had several purposes, and one was to be lifted up and over the head to help keep boys warm. Dawn was now fully lighting the horizon. In spite of the frozen landscape, there were foot trails to mark where the servants had already been. Even at such an early hour, horses were being saddled and taken from the stables, while others arrived and needed tending. The back gate was where food came into the palace. There were carts being pulled in so that the cooks might impress the nobles within.
There was also a steady stream of empty carts and servants making their way out of the gate. Douglas retainers stood watch, stopping some carts to inspect them.
“The yokes will hide our hair.” Vanora pointed to wooden yokes that were leaning against the stable wall. They were used to help a boy carry two buckets at once and shoulder the load more easily.
“Ye are clever.”
Brina placed one across her shoulders and looked about for buckets to attach to each rope that hung from the ends. She didn’t bother to worry that the buckets were empty, for it would appear that they had delivered their wares.
“Do ye think we’ll make it?”
Vanora spoke in a tiny voice, but it increased in volume as she heard herself actually daring to speak.
“It’s better than nae trying. We may be women, but that does no’ mean we have no right to happiness.”
“I’ve been told that.” Vanora was no longer hesitant to voice her thoughts. She spoke them clearly and with venom. “But they could nae force me to believe such. I want to try.”
There was a note in her voice that tugged at Brina’s heart, but it also inspired her to begin walking toward the gate. Victory never went to the coward, but just possibly, today it might go to the meek.
They lowered their heads and fell into line with other merchants who had made their deliveries, each step feeling awkward because Brina tried to decide if she was moving too briskly or stiffly. Her heart was hammering so hard and fast inside her chest, Brina was certain that it would be heard by the Douglas retainers or that her face might be bright red from her distress.
Only fate knew if they would succeed or fail. But it was too late to turn back.
***
Connor listened for his men, waiting for the owl screech. They hadn’t all left together because that would have alerted someone to what they were about. The sun rose as more of his retainers joined him. Among the frozen branches of the forest, they concealed themselves and kept their horses quiet.
“Waiting is no’ something ye do well, Connor.”
Quinton Cameron slid up beside him and gained a calculated look from Connor.
“Now dinna be glaring at me like that, man. If I had nae brought fair Brina here, ye would no’ have this opportunity to reclaim yer sister.”
Connor continued to glare at Quinton. “If I forgive ye too soon, I’ll never sleep peaceful again for thinking on what ye will do next.”
Quinton smirked at him. “Well, yer sister is a pretty little thing.”
“Do nae tempt me to return this by sinking it into yer shoulder.” Connor pulled the dirk that was still in the top of his boot and offered it to Quinton.
“I might be tempting ye, but ye’re wise enough to know that my method was the only one that would have made the lieutenant general bring yer sister out of the Highlands.”
“A fact that has vexed me sorely, because I will find myself forgiving ye, Quinton Cameron.”
He’d ridden the night more times than he could count in his quest to catch the Douglas moving his sister between their castles and holdings. He’d never been able to discover exactly where she was, and Quinton Cameron was more cunning than he had given the man credit for.
“I still want to knock yer jaw loose.”
“I’ll remember that, but for the moment let us fan out, for I believe the Douglas will have the notion that we are waiting for the women. They know full well that only Brina went to fetch Vanora.”
Connor moved away, climbing through nearest the tree trunks where the snow had yet to reach. It made for a difficult journey; one that required skill if he didn’t want to allow snapping limbs to announce his position.
But he was a Highlander, and he just hoped that Brina was enough of one too, because today would be the test of it.
***
Vanora was stronger than she appeared. Brina never heard a complaint from the girl as the day grew longer, and they still had not reached any of the clansmen they might feel safe with.
They’d left through the back gate of the palace, which set them in the opposite direction from where Connor would be waiting for them. Walking down the road was sure to see them found out, so she took Vanora deep into the thic
ket before they began to pick their way around the palace. It was a great distance; one that looked impossible to cover. They had had to lie down too many times to count, because pounding hooves announced the coming of mounted men. There was no way to tell before they were sighted just what colors those men would be wearing, so she had tugged Vanora down where they could not be seen. Every muscle ached before noon, and by sunset Vanora looked as though she were as cold as the snow.
“The darkness will make the going faster.”
Vanora only nodded, but Brina could see the doubt in her young eyes. That same worry chewed at her, because once night fell, she would not be able to see any man’s colors. The Douglas would be looking for them now; there was no doubt in her mind of that. But Vanora’s hand hanging on to the plaid that was belted about Brina’s waist kept her going. The sun sank slowly and disappeared, leaving them at the mercy of the elements.
Once the darkness surrounded them, her senses heightened. Every sound became louder, and the shadows suddenly looked alive. In that time before the moon rose, they sat still because there was no way to tell the direction to travel. More hooves approached, but these did not thunder past. Brina caught herself staring at the torch this party carried. That single point of light was like the scent of food to the starving; she was hypnotized by it, leaning forward just because she longed to feel the heat.
“There… in the trees.”
Too late, she recalled how firelight shone off the eyes of animals.
She gasped and grabbed Vanora before plunging off into the darkness in the hope of finding a hiding place. They could hear the horses trampling the snow and brittle limbs of trees while the torches danced about. It was difficult to decide which way to go, and the horses sounded like they were closing in on them.
“Stay down. I’ll draw them away.” Brina pushed Vanora to the ground at the base of a tree, just inside of a snowbank. “Do nae look at the torches.”
“I will nae.”
Brina couldn’t stay to hear more; she climbed through branches too quickly, and several snapped after scratching across her thighs beneath the kilt she wore. When she had covered enough distance, she turned and looked at the light.
