Unbreakable Heart (Legend of the King's Guard Book 2)

by Griffin, Kara

  When he reached the village, Liam went directly to Rohan’s mead hall, confident he’d find Micheol there. Sure enough, the man sat at one of the tables inside with a few of the Lennox followers. Liam decided to wait before approaching him, and went to warm by the great hearth on the far side of the hall. Rohan greeted him with a nod, for the man was an esteemed ally in their efforts to remain hidden and kept their secrets. He handed him a cup of warm ale, one newly batched, and Liam drank it down.

  He wasn’t ordinarily one to fear any man, but Micheol held his future in his hands, and he’d have to appease the sniveling swine-shit. Liam approached and stood by the table.

  “Micheol, I’m surprised you came so quickly.”

  Micheol lifted his head and peered at him. “I expected to hear from you sooner. I suppose you want to discuss your father’s lands? Join me in a drink.”

  But he had no time to entertain his cousin and was surprised at his offer. The last time he’d seen his cousin, he’d caused him much contention. He didn’t want to be amiable toward him, and wanted to take his sword from its scabbard and put where he’d dreamt of so many times. That or at the very least intimidate him. The man was a lout through and through. If not for his actions, he wouldn’t have been sent in service. And he sure as hell wouldn’t have lost his love.

  “I must be on my way. I would that we discuss my father’s lands now. I wanted to say I was sorry to hear of your father’s death. I regretted our discord.”

  “I’m sure ye did. But it is too late for regrets, cousin. About the lands, have you fulfilled your promises to my da? He bid you to five years of service to the Bruce.”

  “My service is nearly up, only a fortnight remains. I will not be able to return though until the king bids my leave regardless that my service is over.”

  “Why is that? Surely you can just leave and return home.”

  Liam couldn’t speak of their treason or why he needed to continue his service. He’d give as little information as possible. “Even if I left his service, I would take arms for his cause. I made a vow to see that the king recaptures Scotland and until he does, I will aid him. I would that you keep the steward in charge until I’m able to return.”

  Micheol belched loudly and settled back in his chair. “Aye, many of us make sacrifices for the king. I suppose I can have the steward stay in place, but there’s one thing I need to know before I agree to return the lands. The betrothal? My father paid a hefty bride price to the Mackenzie for his daughter. Did you wed the lass as he instructed?”

  Liam got a sour taste in his mouth at hearing the word betrothal. “We discussed it briefly before the earl sent me to service. He only bespoke of Mackenzie and making a pact with him. I didn’t deem it significant now since he passed.” He didn’t say his uncle’s name outright, and hoped to insinuate he only wanted to be associated as far as business. His cousin had to know he wouldn’t go through with the farce.

  “He wanted you to marry Mackenzie’s daughter. Until you do, I cannot return your father’s lands.”

  Ire ran through his veins and his body heated. Liam wanted to take his cousin by his scrawny neck and strangle him. He took a calming breath instead. “I don’t know where she is or even recall what her name is. How am I to marry her?”

  “If you want your father’s lands, you will find a way. When you do find her and wed her, come and see me. I will then return the lands. I will not have my father’s word disparaged, Liam. He wanted this union and we must uphold his last words.”

  “You will see me soon then.” Liam didn’t know how he’d remedy the situation, but he’d think of something.

  “We shall see, won’t we? My father gave his word to the Mackenzie. You need to honor him, Liam. Find the lass and wed her.” Micheol looked to his side at his comrade. “I must go.”

  “Wait. What is the lass’ name? I don’t remember him telling me.” His last encounter with his uncle was disconcerting and he couldn’t remember much of what was said. He recalled some of their angry words, most of which were his uncle’s.

  “Makenna, the eldest Mackenzie daughter. Now I must be off. Come when you have secured your marriage.” Micheol didn’t wait for his acceptance and hastened away.

  His cousin sent him on an unreasonable quest. Liam stood dumbfounded, for he had no way of knowing where the lass might be. And he had no time to travel to Mackenzie land to speak with her father. Damnation. How was he to handle this? What if the lass married another? Many years passed since his uncle supposedly paid the bride price. Had she awaited him all these years? What if she didn’t wish to wed him?

  With his vow to the king, he didn’t have the wherewithal to wed. His home at present was a damp musty cave, for god’s sake, and he couldn’t ask any lady to live in such a place. Once he took possession of his father’s home, he could send her there. He certainly couldn’t attend to this problem now with the king’s imminent return and his pledge to his comrades.

  He decided to put the matter from his mind since there wasn’t much he could do about it presently. Eventually, he would find a way to seek his bride. Until then, he’d focus on the problems at hand.

  Liam retrieved his horse and rode toward the abbey and would find out what the ‘delicate matter’ was so he could get back to the caves. On his ride there, light flakes of snow fell. He was glad he’d worn his cloak for the day seemed to get colder.

  Liam reached the abbey in short time and tethered his horse. Hemm awaited him at the entrance. “What need have you, Friar?”

  The friar bade him forward and he stepped into his domain, a sparsely furnished room with a large table which held many parchments and candles. Liam stood by, awaiting the duty.

  “I wouldn’t trouble you with this task, except I know not what to do. You see, there’s a lad here … his name is Warren. He came last eve distraught because his da hurt his ma. I would’ve sent one of the brothers to fetch her, but they’re deciphering documents for the Bishop and have no time to attend to it.”

  “How old is the lad?”

  Hemm firmed his lips and sat on the worn wooden chair by his desk. “He’s a handful of years. A might wee to be traipsing all the way here from the village. He walked here in the cold snow and dead of night without a cloak or warm garments. I kept him here and promised to send for his ma.”

  Liam considered the poor lad’s plight. He could commiserate with him for he’d been about the same age when his father had died and he’d gone in search of his uncle. He and his comrades often hired themselves out as mercenaries, and even though this task wouldn’t call for such force, he had to aid the lad.

  “You want me to retrieve her?”

  “Aye, the lad won’t cease crying for her. I bid ye to go and bring her back to the abbey. I shall see they are taken care of.”

  “What of her husband?” Liam hoped he’d be there when he arrived. He’d have a thing or two to say to the man for his dishonorable treatment of his wife and son.

  Hemm dipped his chin. “As much as I believe a husband has a right to discipline his wife, he has no right to beat her without mercy. I admit I’d like to see the man reprimanded, but God will inflict his punishment on judgement day.”

  Liam drew a resigned breath. He and his comrades lived by the code of chivalry, knightly honor, duty … Women were never to be disrespected or mistreated. Even Brodin who wanted to murder his lover stayed his hand. In the end, his friend couldn’t harm the woman. None of them would lay their hands on a lady regardless of her station. The man’s punishment would be inflicted this day.

  Hemm lingered by his desk and appeared apprehensive. “I ask much of you and your comrades. I fear I cannot give you coin for performing this deed. Or for the other task I’ve asked of you.”

  “We don’t expect payment, Friar. I will see to it.” Liam noticed the relief that crossed the friar’s face. They’d never accept payment from him for any deed because the man aided them time and again. Not only that, but it was the pious thing to do,
helping the clergyman.

  “I shall make my prayers my payment. Aye, the Good Lord’s blessing will help you and your comrades prevail.”

  “That is all we can ask, Friar.”

  After Hemm gave him the details of where the home of the lad was, he set off. Before he left the stables, he visited the kitchens and scooped a pile of ash. He added oil to it and rubbed it on his face and neck. His sword and shield were still covered from their last outing, so he only needed a small bit.

  Using the concealment would help keep his identity from being revealed. Since he was traveling to the village, he wanted to ensure his safety. And the soot made him appear fearsome which would assuredly help him in the quest.

  On his ride to the village, he thought of a plan to gain the husband’s penance. Caerlaverock’s village boasted its size even from the distance on the road leading up to the gates. He walked along the lane until he reached the second cottage from the end. Snow fell heavier and dusted his shoulders. Cold seeped through his garments, but Liam disregarded it for anger heated him from within.

  An old woman stood outside the door of the last cottage, emptying a bucket. She didn’t appear to fear him. “Are ye the devil’s reaper here to see him?” She slanted her head in the direction of the next cottage.

  Liam lowered his chin, but said nothing. He didn’t knock, but pushed the door open with force. It banged against the wall.

  “What the … Who the hell are you?” a man’s voice came. “W-what are you?”

  The husband stood at the table in the center of the cottage. He was a giant of a man, his beard heavy and covered most of his face. His shoulders wide like a bear’s, and his chest large. Liam wasn’t daunted by the man’s size, for he’d gone against many similar foes.

  He gazed about the abode until his eyes fell on the woman. She hunched in a corner, and he took a step toward her. The woman slouched and raised her arm to protect herself. A look of pallid fear crossed her face. He wasn’t sure how to go about appeasing her fear, and hesitated in his approach.

  “W-what do ye want?” the husband asked. “A-are ye the devil, for ye l-look like him?”

  Liam turned back to answer him, “I am here for her.”

  “W-why w-would ye come for my w-wife?”

  Liam turned back to the woman. He drawled near with caution so he wouldn’t frighten her. “Do not fear me. I will take you to your son. Can you walk?”

  “She’s not g-going a-anywhere,” the husband’s voice muffled.

  He turned and took a step toward the man. Near enough to reach and grab him, Liam threw up his hand and took hold of his burly neck. He forced him back against the wall, holding him against it, a few inches above the floor. The man’s feet floundered and his face reddened.

  “You gave up your husbandly rights when ye abused her.” He tightened his grip, fairly choking the man. “Look at her. The poor lass is cowering on the floor. That is your doing. You shall answer for your reprehensible deed.” Liam released him, allowing him to fall to the floor.

  The husband’s pant rasped. “I’m sorry. Don’t take her away.” The husband sobbed.

  Liam held no sympathy for him. “You need apologize to her, not me.”

  “B-but she’s m-my wife.”

  He wasn’t surprised the husband wouldn’t offer his wife an apology. The man considered the woman his property. Liam was hard-pressed to inflict pain on the man, but his concern for the woman took precedence.

  “Come, Mistress, I’ll take you to safety, to your son.” He gently grabbed her hand, helped her from the floor, and led her from the cottage. She said not a word to him but wept.

  Outside, a crowd gathered and their gazes inquisitive. He kept walking until he reached the old lady who lived in the next cottage. “Will you tend her injuries? I’ll have Friar Hemm send a cart for her.” Liam didn’t think she’d be able to ride upon his horse and nor could she walk the great distance to the abbey.

  “Aye, good sir, I shall.” The woman took hold of the battered mistress and helped her into her home.

  Her husband ran through the door and stopped short when he saw him. He held a sword, raised high. “You w-won’t be taking my wife. Be ye devil or nay.”

  Liam pulled his sword free. He wasn’t about to let the man threaten him or anyone. Yet, he wouldn’t strike first and kept his sword pointed downward. The last thing he needed was to draw attention, especially given that he and his comrades hid from the executioner. He had no choice but to face the threat. “How do ye propose to stop me?” He suspected the taunt would bring out the man’s anger, just what he hoped to do.

  Ireful eyes bore into him. The man growled and ran at him, yelling a ferocious guttural sound. Liam waited for him to near and when he got three feet from him, he raised his sword and deflected the strike. The man seemed possessed with his intent to kill him and he continued his attack, lifting and thrashing his sword about akin to a mad man. He could’ve easily lifted his sword and ended the clash, but Liam didn’t want the man’s death on his conscious. It was best he be dealt with in an aloof manner.

  Liam had enough and attacked, using his strikes to wear the man down. After a few minutes of the tarry, the man dropped his sword. He fell to his knees and panted from his exertion. Liam wasn’t winded from the exercise. He suspected the man inebriated hence his unskilled strikes.

  When he spotted a man who looked to have authority, he called to him.

  “Sir, this man has committed a crime. He needs to be taken into custody.”

  The man strode near and removed the hood of his cloak. His garments alluded to his station for he dressed in expensive cloth and wore a broach denoting his role within the village. The sheriff stood by and watched the commotion. “The name’s Reginald Guthrie, sir. What is the charge?”

  “He attacked the king’s servant. You all saw him come at me with his sword.” Liam was forced to admit who he was, and he decided to use it to his benefit. They’d heard of the king’s guard and the many tales being spoken certainly aided him now.

  The crowd’s voices rose with mutters of agreement. He faced the abusive husband. “You might rather my sword be your end than go to the gallows. I’ve heard no man enjoys the masters in such a place. Most would prefer to perish.”

  The husband spat at him and the crowd shouted expletives and condemnation.

  Sir Guthrie moved closer and took the husband’s arm. “I shall see to him, Good Sir, and am happy to oblige the king’s guard. Be ye always welcome in our hamlet.”

  A round of mirth came from the villagers. If not for the wife’s wounds, he’d find the entire affair most comical.

  Liam turned and faced the crowd. “Let this be a warning. If I hear of any man laying an abusive hand on their wives, I shall come for you.” He took a threatening step forward.

  All the villagers gasped and retreated, and then a resounding cheer arose from the women.

  He left the lane and headed back to his horse. A lad stood afar and he studied him. The lad looked akin to Gilroy, their long-lost squire. It was he, and the lad skulked along the wall. He scowled and wondered what he was up to. Then he noticed the cloaked figure standing beyond him. Liam pretended to see to his horse’s care while he observed the pair.

  It was indeed Gilroy and he would call out to him, but he was interested in the lad behind him. He couldn’t tell if the bystander watched him or Gilroy. But he felt the lad’s eyes on him. Perhaps he wanted to hire him or needed aid? Liam waited for both to gain ground before he’d act. When Gilroy reached him, he pulled his arm and held him.

  “Where have you been? When we returned to the cave, we despaired something happened to you, lad.” He didn’t answer right off and Liam gripped his arm. “You were supposed to be at the cave aiding Annag.”

  Gilroy pressed the long locks hanging in his face aside. “I know, m’lord, but I had to see to something and only returned.”

  “Where did you go? What did you have to see to?” Liam pulled him out of the way
when a cart passed. The lad appeared unkempt, and even though it was his usual state, he thought the lad unusually dirty. He reeked of an odor Liam couldn’t place.

  “I was in the sheriff’s gallows for he caught me stealing.” Gilroy lowered his chin and seemed sorrowful at either getting caught or at his time spent in the ghastly place.

  Now he recognized the smell. The gallows had a certain odor that existed nowhere else. He sighed, realizing the peril the lad must’ve been in. “Are you harmed? Did you tell the sheriff anything about the king’s guard?”

  “Nay, m’lord, of course not. I wouldn’t ever tell a soul about you or the others … the king’s guard. I hid the coins I stole before the sheriff caught me. He didn’t have any proof except the word of the English knight … That’s why he released me.”

  Liam roared with laughter. “Lad, are ye telling me that you stole from an English knight? I never figured ye to be so brazen. Why’d ye steal from him?”

  “We ran out of coins that m’lord Graeme left us and I wanted to get foodstuff for the mistress.” He kept his face down and wouldn’t look him in the eye.

  Liam suspected falsity, but at the moment he wanted to get the lad safely home where he could feed him and get him bathed. He’d leave the questioning to Graeme for he was more the leader of their group. Gilroy looked starved for all that he had thinned. “Come along, lad. I’ll take ye home. You’ll need to account for your actions to Graeme.”

  He mounted his horse and hefted the lad behind him. Before he set off, he tilted his head at the other lad standing yonder, still perusing them. “Know you of that lad there? Is he a friend of yours? He’s been watching us.”

  Gilroy leaned to the side and looked in the direction he’d indicated. “Nay, m’lord, I don’t know him. He’s not a friend of mine.”