Forever Her Champion

by Suzan Tisdale

  He scanned the horizon, looking for Rianna and her attackers. There, just ahead, in a small clearing, he saw them. His gut tightened as his heart seized. They had her surrounded and she looked positively terrified.

  Kicking the flanks of his horse, he set off toward the men. The pounding of hoof beats upon earth announced his approach. They spun in unison, momentarily caught off guard.

  “Rianna! Run!” he shouted from atop his mount. “Run!”

  Frozen in fear, she could not get her feet to do his bidding. She stood and watched in horror as Aiden battled against the four men. Metal against metal crashed through the quiet glen as horses screamed and reared, tossing one man to the ground. Scarce able to breathe, let alone flee, she watched Aiden fight against them.

  Someone pulled him from his mount, forcing him to do battle one-on-one, while trying to watch his own back. Before it was all said and done, Aiden had been sliced and stabbed, but not before he could do damage to three of the four men.

  Upon seeing his men fall one at a time, Lachlan MacAllistair cursed loudly. “Kill them! Kill them both!” right before he kicked his horse into a full gallop and ran away. Rianna watched in stunned disbelief as the man she was certain was her father fled like a coward.

  When she turned back to the melee, she saw three men lying at Aiden’s feet.

  He was drenched in blood: his and theirs.

  ’Twas then that the world seem to slow to near stopping, as she watched the sword fall from his hand. Slowly, ever so slowly, he sank to his knees and fell forward.

  Rianna Coultier’s world stopped turning the moment Aiden Macgullane fell to the ground.

  Rianna wept, openly, uncontrollably, as she sat on the ground with Aiden’s head in her lap. She had wiped away as much blood from his face as she was able, using the hem of her dress. Her chemise was in tatters, for she had torn it into strips to use as bandages. The little strips of linen did little to staunch the blood that flowed from the numerous cuts to his arms and torso.

  Aiden lay limp, his skin ashen and damp. He was slowly dying in her arms.

  “I am so sorry,” she wept as she stroked his forehead and cheeks. “I am so terribly sorry.”

  Nearby, his horse stood, looking down as if he were standing as sentry over his dying king. If she had the strength, she would put Aiden atop his grand mount and take him back to the hunter’s croft. She prayed silently that he would somehow survive his injuries, but she knew they were far too grievous. Soon he would take his last breath. If she had to dig his grave with her bare hands, she would. And no matter if Lachlan MacAllistair returned with more men, this time to make sure she’d died, she would be able to go to her death knowing that Aiden had loved her.

  He had returned for her, of that much she was certain. Why else would he have come back, if not to beg forgiveness and take her away, where they could live out the rest of their days together? With all her heart, she believed that was why he returned. For her.

  Just as he had championed her in their youth, his final act on God’s earth was to protect her at all costs, including his own life.

  For all eternity, he would forever be her champion, and she, his ever faithful, ever devoted, loving friend, ally, and the keeper of his heart.

  9

  Fifty mounted men were racing along the road to MacAllistair Castle. Ahead of them, a team of outriders lead by Jean Luc Coultier. Something in the road caught the attention of one of the outriders, who pulled his horse to a stop. Sliding down, he grabbed it with a brawny hand.

  Jean Luc, after realizing some of his men had stopped, pulled rein and galloped back to find out why they had halted. “What is it?” he asked as he drew nearer.

  “’Tis nothin’ but a doll,” the man replied as he smacked it against his thigh by way of dusting it off.

  Jean Luc felt his head grow light, as if the wind had been knocked from his lungs. He knew that doll, even if it had been sixteen years since last he laid eyes upon it. A flood of memories crashed through to the forefront of his mind.

  “Valeriana,” he whispered as he took the doll from William’s hand. “Valeriana.”

  Rianna heard a grand commotion, horses galloping through the forest, heading toward her. Lachlan MacAllistair was back and she was quite certain he meant to kill her. The why of it no longer mattered. She would embrace death with as much valor and honor as Aiden.

  Sensing she was surrounded, she looked up from the man dying in her arms. Through tears and gritted teeth, she let them know, in no uncertain terms, she was not about to allow anyone touch him.

  “Ye can kill me, I care nae. But ye will nae touch a hair on this man’s head until he has passed on. Do you hear me? Ye will nae touch him! I will nae allow it!”

  Countless confused faces looked down at her, as if she were speaking in a foreign tongue. “Leave me alone!” she seethed. “He’ll be gone soon, then ye may do with me what ye will.”

  Two men slid from their mounts and walked toward her. “I said leave me be!”

  “Lass, we are here to help,” the shorter of the two said. “We mean ye no harm, I swear it.”

  She eyed them suspiciously through tear-filled eyes for a long moment. The taller man … there was something oddly familiar about him. He was a larger more formidable version of Lachlan MacAllistair, with dark hair graying at the temples. A brother or cousin mayhap? His eyes did not hold the same contempt or derision as Lachlan’s had. Nay, they were softer, more thoughtful versions. Broad shouldered, he exuded the strength and power that Lachlan lacked. No matter, they were probably cut from the same vile cloth.

  The shorter man also had dark hair, but bright green eyes set on either side of a long nose. He was slighter in build with long, slender fingers. His accent was strange yet familiar.

  Both men stared with such quizzical expressions, as if they were looking at something strange and foreign. Yet, she detected no menacing intentions.

  Finally, the taller man spoke. She noted his voice caught once before he managed to get the words out. “Allow us to help ye, both of ye. On my honor, no more harm will come to either of ye.”

  There was such a depth of sincerity in his voice that she could not help but believe him.

  A litter was brought from somewhere. Large men with strong arms lifted Aiden out of her arms with such gentleness it defied logic. Moments later, Rianna was set upon the back of Aiden’s mount. The tall man took the reins and led her out of the woods and back onto the road.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as she swiped an errant tear away with bloodied fingertips.

  “To our keep,” he answered. “Yer man will receive every possible care our healers can offer.”

  Rianna glanced ahead. Realizing they were heading back toward the MacAllistair keep, panic rose. Any relief she’d felt at receiving help for Aiden evaporated in an instant. “I — we cannae go there,” she whispered frantically.

  “Why not?” he asked as he picked up speed.

  She swallowed down the fear. “Lachlan MacAllistair lives there. He said he would kill me if e’er I set foot near his keep again. He and his men…” She swallowed back a wave of tears. They attacked us without warning. I dunnae ken why, but I cannae go back there. He is sure to kill us both.”

  “Lachlan MacAllistair told ye this?” he asked. His brow creased as a dark shadow fell over his face.

  “Aye,” she replied. “I went to him today, seeking —” she paused, wondering if she should tell this man the whole of it. “Please, can we seek help elsewhere? He does nae want me.”

  “What did this man look like?” he asked.

  “Like ye, but far more menacing and hateful.”

  The shorter man finally spoke up. “I can assure ye, lass, ye’ll ne’er have to worry about that man again. No one will.”

  Rianna had refused to leave Aiden’s side. She refused offers of a bath, refused even to change out of her dress. For two days, she sat next to the large bed he had been given. She prayed over him, washe
d his body, wiped his damp brow, helped the healer in any way she could. And still, he did not wake. Never far from his side, she dozed fitfully and infrequently. She ate little, only enough to keep up what little strength remained.

  The healer had left his room in the early morning hours. “I’ve done all I can for him,” he said. “The rest is up to him and God.”

  Alone with him for the first time since arriving, she took his hand in hers. “Aiden, please, I beg ye, please wake up.”

  He stirred not, no fluttering of his eyes, nothing to indicate he could hear her or feel her presence.

  The prognosis from the healer was grim. Aiden had lost much blood, mayhap too much to recover from. If a fever did not set in, then his chances were better.

  She had just dozed off when she felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder. “Ye’ll do him no good if ye collapse from exhaustion and are put into bed by the healer.”

  Rianna looked up to see the tall man standing beside her. Next to him was the ever present Jean Luc. She had been too busy and focused on Aiden to even inquire as to who these men were.

  He pulled up a chair and sat in front of her. “Lass, ’tis time we had a talk.”

  Why she found so much comfort in his voice, she could not explain, but she did. ’Twas warm, filled with kind regard, and something … something she could not put her finger on.

  “Who are ye?” she finally asked. “Why do I feel as though I know ye?”

  He glanced up at Jean Luc, who had remained near the door, before turning back to her. “The man ye met before, at the gates. He was not Lachlan MacAllistair. I am.”

  Were she not sitting, she would have fallen over. Her eyes grew wide as astonishment set in.

  “That man was me brother, Melvin. For years, he has done everything he can to keep me from ye, lass. He has finally paid for those actions and deeds with his life.”

  Jean Luc stepped forward then and placed the doll in her lap. “I found this on the road. It belongs to ye.”

  Rianna scooped the doll up, staring between it and Lachlan in quiet, stunned surprise.

  “Do ye remember when I gave this to ye?” Lachlan asked, his tone low and soft.

  “Aye,” she murmured. “Or at least I think I do. ’Twas late and night and ye were sending us away. ’Tis all I remember.”

  Lachlan and Jean Luc exchanged another knowing glance.

  “We were sending ye away for yer own safety. I had two brothers, Melvin and Daniel. I was the oldest, Daniel the youngest. And Melvin, he was betwixt us. And betwixt us in more ways than one.”

  Rianna listened intently as Lachlan explained what had transpired all those years ago. “Yer mother,” he asked. “How does she fare?”

  Inexplicably, tears welled in her eyes. “She passed away a little more than a year ago.”

  Both men looked genuinely hurt by the news. Lachlan ran a hand through his hair, then shook his head before letting out a heavy sigh. “I loved yer mother, verra much,” he said. “More than I probably ought.”

  Rianna’s brow knitted. “She said ye hated her. Hated us. She said ye cast us aside, threw us out because of yer jealous, spiteful wife.”

  Lachlan chuckled in disbelief. “The only jealous, spiteful wife I e’er had was yer mum.”

  The more she learned the more lightheaded she felt. “I dunnae understand.”

  “She was nae always like that. Och, she was such a loving, kind woman. A ne’er a more beautiful lass had I e’er laid eyes on. But when ye were born and she saw how I doted on ye, spoiled ye, she began to change. She grew jealous and spiteful.”

  “Of me?” Rianna asked. Her mother had, betimes, been quite cruel to her. But she’d never interpreted it as jealousy.

  “Aye, of ye and how I loved ye.”

  “Why did ye send me away?” she dared to ask the one question that had burned in her mind for her entire life.

  “To protect ye,” he replied.

  When he saw lack of understanding staring back at him, he went on to explain. “Melvin was jealous as well. Nae of ye or yer mum, but of me. He wanted to be laird and chief, more than anything. I did nae see it until it was too late. Daniel tried to tell me, but I refused his good council.” He looked away, remembering those dark times. “I had grown sick. I thought ’twas something I’d eaten. Bad grouse or something. But I grew sicker and sicker. Melvin came to me in the middle of the night and convinced me that someone, most likely Daniel, had been poisoning me. And they would come after ye next.”

  A vague, fuzzy memory of an ill man popped into her mind. Dark circles under his eyes and a scratchy, ill-sounding voice, but naught else.

  “Ye were my only child. Ronna was unable to have another. Ye were set to inherit everything if I lived. I knew, should anything happen to me, there would be very few people who would be able to protect ye. So I sent ye and yer mum away, with Jean Luc as yer protector.”

  Try as she might, she could not place the man anywhere in her memory.

  “I sent ye first to France, with Jean Luc. Ye lived for a time with he and his family. But then one night, Ronna left without word and took ye with her. I have been looking fer ye all these many years. It seems we were always weeks or months behind ye.”

  He looked for me! He did love me! She all but screamed the words in her joyful heart.

  “I gave ye the doll, do ye remember?”

  “Aye, I do. Ye told me ne’er to let it out of my sight and ne’er to let mum ken I had it,” she answered in a low whisper. Relief began to wash over her. She hadn’t imagined it. She was not mad.

  “Valeriana,” he whispered. “Yer real name is Valeriana MacAllistair. Yer mum changed it to Rianna Coultier. But why she gave ye Jean Luc’s last name, I shall ne’er know or understand.”

  Valeriana. It sounded so odd, so strange to her ears.

  “Ye were named after my mother, God rest her soul. She was a good woman. She loved ye verra much. She passed away two years after…after I sent ye away.”

  It was almost too much to take in at once. The more answers she gained, the more questions she had.

  Lachlan reached out and took her hand in his. “There was a ring inside the doll, lass. Do ye have it?”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. With her free hand, she pulled the ring from under her dress and showed it to him. It burned brightly, more brightly even than when last she looked at it.

  Stunned, Lachlan stared long and hard at the ring before glancing at Aiden. “Ye love him.” ’Twas a statement, not a question.

  Tears stung at her eyes. “Aye, with all my heart I do.”

  “And he loves ye.”

  Rianna looked lovingly at Aiden. “He gave up his life for me.”

  “Nay, he is still with us, lass. Ye must believe with all yer heart he will wake.”

  A long moment of time stretched out before she turned back to face her father. “Why does the ring glow? Is it magik?”

  Lachlan smiled adoringly at her. “Aye lass, ’tis indeed.”

  They sat together for another hour, while Lachlan told her the legend behind the ring. “So ye see, lass, it only glows so brightly when ye have found yer true love. Ye shall pass it on to yer first born daughter someday.”

  Fervently, she wanted to believe him, but if Aiden did not survive, she knew there would be neither daughters nor sons for her.

  “What did ye do to Melvin?” she finally asked.

  He and Jean Luc exchanged yet another guarded glance. “I killed him. ’Twas he, nae my brother Daniel, who had poisoned me. Melvin had been searching for ye for years, Valeriana. He wanted to see ye dead. He knew that if ye e’er returned, he would ne’er have a chance at inheriting the chiefdom or lands. He coveted those things above all else. But for years, I was convinced ’twas Daniel’s doing. I did nae ken until we found the doll and learned he had sent ye away, that ’twas truly him behind all of it.”

  “I wish I could have seen him die,” Rianna blurted out. “It is because of him that Aiden lies here
dying before my eyes!”

  Lachlan stood, pulled her to her feet and into a long overdue embrace. “Wheest, lass. Ye must believe with all yer heart that he will recover. I ne’er gave up hope of someday finding ye. Please do nae give up hope of Aiden soon waking.”

  More than a decade’s worth of tears spilled out then. Lachlan held her tightly, allowing her to cry until she had no more tears left. When her sobbing finally quieted, he patted her head. “Now will ye please wash away his blood, change yer clothes and rest? Ye dunnae want to look a sight when he finally opens his eyes, do ye?”

  Reluctantly, she agreed.

  “I shall send in someone to help ye bathe and get ye settled in. I leave ye in Jean Luc’s good care, lass, but I promise to return in a week.”

  “Where are ye goin’?” she asked, suddenly worried she might never see him again.

  “To bring my brother Daniel home.”

  Epilogue

  Whether ’twas the power of prayer, love, or her father’s fervent belief, Aiden finally woke on the fourth day. Or, more likely than not, ’twas the stubborn Scottish blood that coursed through his veins. Either way, he was awake with no idea of where he was or how he came to be in a soft, warm bed.

  Every muscle in his body ached and screamed in protest when he tried to raise his head to get his bearings. He tried moving his arm, but one of them burned and ached. Slowly, he moved his head to see if the bloody thing was still attached.

  Rianna.

  The sight of her stole his breath away. She was beside him, fast asleep, and she was using his arm as a pillow. One slender hand rested on his chest, one leg was draped over his. Her dark locks were tousled, spreading out in all directions. Even as she slept, he could see the dark circles under her eyes. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever set eyes upon.