"The clansmen who have joined Alexander become restless and, frankly, something of a problem. Men!" Glenda added ruefully. "They are like lads who must be kept busy or they get into mischief such as befell you yesterday."
"Mischief?" Rowena exclaimed. "My guardsman was gravely wounded, and I was nearly raped."
"Aye. Alexander was most wroth with Georas and his men. He levied a stiff fine and cut their ale rations. Which is good. Too much drink makes matters worse."
"You are chatelaine here. Could you not do something?"
"Nay, Alexander does not like it if anyone questions his decisions." She fingered a faded bruise on her chin. A souvenir of having roused the earl's temper? "He does give me free rein in domestic matters."
How bloody decent of him, considering it was Glenda's castle. Rowena seethed with impotent rage. How could such a canny woman bow down to a brute like Alexander?
Because she loved him. Further proof, if Rowena needed any, of the reasons to steer clear of such entanglements. "If you could point out to me His Grace's scribe, I could ask him about the swearing."
"Alexander does not employ one. He must deal with many sensitive issues, and thus writes his own letters and keeps his own accounts," she said with obvious pride. "He prizes learning most highly, which is one reason he enjoys Lion's company. Did you know he speaks not only French, but Italian and Spanish as well?"
"I doubt he finds much use for them in the Highlands," Rowena snapped.
"Mayhap not, but he sings beautifully and composes the most heavenly verse."
Donald hurried up and bowed before his mistress. "All is in readiness for the weapon shew, my lady. The combat field has been roped off, benches brought out and cook has set up tables to hold the refreshments, as ye ordered."
"Excellent." Lady Glenda smiled at Rowena. "Lion suggested we hold games and tests of skill to keep the men busy till the army marches. Alexander thought it a grand idea. The lairds of old used to do the same when they called up their clansmen to fight. Is His Grace ready?" she asked Donald.
"He left for the training grounds moments ago."
"Without me?" Glenda paled and jumped up. "Drat. I wanted to change, but there's no time. Have my horse brought round." She lifted her skirts and hastened away. Her departure started a flood, as the other women hurried from the hall, calling for their mounts and capes.
Rowena was borne along on the tide, but with no servant to send running for her mare, was forced to walk with the maids and women of lesser rank, some of whom were obviously harlots come to service the clansmen. The trip through the inner bailey to the grassy outer ward was not long, but her boots and hem were muddied by the time she arrived at the arena.
She'd been once to a gathering of Clan Gunn, and this was very similar. A huge area had been roped off to contain the contestants. The onlookers milled about outside, swilling ale and placing bets on their favorites. Three tiers of benches had been erected to hold the nobles. In the center of the middle row, under a canopy of dark blue Shaw plaid, sat Glenda and the other ladies, their gowns bright splashes of color on the otherwise gloomy day.
Lady Glenda spied her, stood and motioned for Rowena to join her in the stands. Jostled and hemmed in as she was by the crowd, Rowena gave the offer consideration, but noted Lady Selena seated beside Glenda. Nay, she'd had enough of strife.
"I am fine here," Rowena called up.
"So, there you are," snapped a querulous voice.
Rowena whirled and found Eneas at her elbow. It seemed her strife was not over for the day.
"I see you are enjoying the amenities of the castle," he said nastily, scowling at her clean hair and fresh clothes.
She was childishly pleased to see that, though dressed in his best tunic of saffron wool, he still stank of the trail and his hair was greasy. "Where are you staying?"
"I was fortunate to buy a small tent."
"What of the men?"
Eneas shrugged. "They are making do."
Sleeping in the open on the ground. Rowena felt a wave of guilt. It was a chiefs duty to provide for his men. She was here to claim that responsibility for her son, yet she'd not given any thought to the rest of the Gunns. That most of them were loyal to Eneas and would like to see her fail did not matter. "I have met the chatelaine of Blantyre," she said. "When the games are over, I'll ask if she can find some room for you all within the walls."
"I do not need your favors." Eneas scowled. "Have you met the earl, too? Have you already used your soft white body to entice from him the guardianship of my nephew?"
Rowena did not like the way he said that. Did Eneas suspect the truth? "I have not met the earl," she said shortly.
"Good, because I intend—"
A blare of horns silenced the crowd.
Alexander galloped into the center of the enclosure. Seen in daylight, his stern visage was daunting. His hooded eyes seemed to pounce from person to person, like an inquisitor looking for wrongdoers. Still, he looked every inch the royal prince, his red-and-black Stewart tartan belted over a tunic of white wool. Three eagle feathers dipped jauntily from a velvet cap as black as his glossy hair. Gemstones winked on his hands as he lifted them in an expansive gesture. "Welcome one and all. I give you the chieftains of the Grand Army of Pacification."
The rope barricade was pulled aside and warriors streamed onto the field, a full two score of them. Some were dressed in gleaming mail; others wore the padded leine croich. A few rough men of the far north were bare legged, clad in animal skins and carrying long spears.
Alexander grinned, his teeth white against his beard. "We are met here to test your readiness for battle. What say you, are your clansmen prepared to show me their mettle?"
"Aye!" the chieftains roared back.
Behind the barricades, the clansmen whose fighting skills would be put to the test echoed their leaders' acceptance of his challenge. Waving their swords and spears in the air, they filled the air with a dozen different battle cries.
"The Gunns do not participate?" Rowena asked over the din.
"Did your new friends not tell you we are in disfavor?" Eneas's lip curled. "It seems that my brother did refuse the earl's summons to join the army. Thus we are tainted. Lord Alexander's commander would not even let us show our skills and be judged till His Grace rendered a decision about us." He glared at her. "Did you know Padruig had come here, that he was returning from Blantyre when he was killed?"
"Not at the time," Rowena said weakly. So Lion had spoken the truth. "What of the swearing?"
"I did not ask. If you could have seen the way his Stewarts looked at me, as though I might be a spy or an assassin…" His eyes narrowed. "I am surprised you were lodged in the castle and not tossed out on your arse."
Because of Lion. "Lady Glenda does not know we are in disfavor. She is busy running the castle and not much involved in the earl's business." What would happen when the earl found out? Silently, Rowena moaned, seeing Paddy's future ruined. "What can we do?" she asked of her unexpected ally.
"I intend to bide my time and find a chance to prove I am not the coward Padruig was."
"Coward? He was no such thing. He—"
"Was a weak old fool, too shortsighted to see that joining the earl was our one chance to make the Gunns truly important."
"You mean you would join his army?" she asked, aghast.
"If the earl will let me, aye."
"Bastard! Murdering bastard!" someone growled in her ear.
Rowena looked over her shoulder into the twisted face of a youth. Did he mean Eneas? Nay, the lad's hate-filled gaze was fastened on the field beyond her. Before she could puzzle it out, the youth pulled a dirk from his belt and pushed past her.
"I'll kill him. I'll see His Grace pays." The lad ducked under the ropes and started to run toward the earl.
"Stop!" Rowena cried, starting forward.
Eneas was quicker. "Beware! Beware, my lord earl!" he screamed. Vaulting the rope, he scrambled after the assailant.
<
br /> Alexander turned from his chieftains, who hemmed him in on three sides. Seemingly frozen in place, they stared at the running lad. Comprehension dawned in their faces. The earl shouted something. Men reached for their weapons.
The lad halted and drew back his arm to throw the knife.
"Naaay!" Eneas tackled the boy. They tumbled across the muddy ground, limbs flailing.
Rowena darted forward, saw Eneas snatch the knife from the lad and raise it with deadly intent. "Stop!" She grabbed hold of Eneas's hand and prevented him from striking.
"Damn. Let loose," Eneas shouted.
"He's only a boy. Let us find out what he was do—"
"He was trying to kill me." Alexander pushed Rowena aside, grabbed the youth by the throat and lifted him up. "Who sent you? Who paid you to murder me?"
"No one." Though scratched and covered with filth, the lad's narrow face screamed defiance. He was young, younger than Rowena had thought. No more than ten or eleven, surely. "Ye killed my brother. Murdered him in cold blood."
"Who might he be?"
"Will Ross. I am his brother, Colin."
"Ah." Alexander's lip curled scornfully. "So, the Rosses have bred up another traitor to follow in Will's path."
"Will was no traitor. His only crime was not wanting to be part of yer accursed army. For that, ye sent yer pack of wolves to murder him whilst he did claim sanctuary in Blair Abbey."
An ugly murmur sifted through the crowd.
Alexander ignored them, his black scowl focused on the boy, who hung limp in his grip. " 'Tis a lie. But likely the last one you'll utter. Georas, rig me a rope. We'll hang him—"
"Your Grace. Wait, please." Rowena pushed through the crowd. "Please. You cannot hang him. He's just a boy…a child. He cannot fully understand what he was doing. If you—"
"How dare you approach me in such an insolent manner and demand justice for my would-be assassin?" Alexander growled. "Who the hell are you?"
"R-Rowena Gunn. I—"
"Gunn!" It was like throwing oil on a fire. His eyes blazed with fury. "More traitors. What are you doing here?"
"I…we—" she gestured toward Eneas, who now stood beside her "—came to swear fealty to you for my son."
Alexander's fury mellowed as he looked at Eneas. "You saved my life. And for that I do thank you." His gaze narrowed. "What is this troublesome woman to you?"
"A nuisance," Eneas said quickly.
Rowena gasped. This could not be happening. If some ill befell her, who would raise her Paddy? "I am the mother of Padruig Gunn's heir."
"Do not speak to me of that traitor," Alexander snarled. "Georas, hang the Ross and lock this woman in the dungeon till I can decide how best to deal with her."
"A moment, if you would, Alexander?" called a deep, familiar voice.
Rowena felt an odd surge of relief as she spotted Lion guiding his stallion through the crowd.
"There you are," the earl grumbled. "You picked a damned poor time to go off hunting, Lion. I was nearly killed. By that." He pointed at the youth caught tight in Georas's meaty grasp.
Lion's bland gaze flickered over the lad, then moved to her. "And what has Rowena done?"
"Why do you care?"
"I mentioned last night that I'd long known her. And…" Lion leaned his forearms on his saddle horn, "…we are betrothed."
"Betrothed?" the earl thundered. "I knew naught of this. When did it happen?"
"We discussed it this morn, but I've always known she was the lady for me." He looked straight at her when he spoke, his gaze mocking, daring her to dispute his claim and suffer the consequences.
Chapter Six
If looks could kill, he'd be dead, Lion mused, conscious of the many dark glances cast his way. There was Selena's spiteful envy, Georas's frank loathing and Eneas Gunn's sullen fury.
As for Rowena, she was spitting mad, a hair's breadth from denouncing his claim, despite the danger. He could not afford to care what any of them thought. His mission, and a score of lives—young Colin Ross's included—hung in the balance here. And a delicate balance it was.
Lion concentrated his effort on the man who could tip that balance. "By your leave, of course, Your Grace," he said, pasting on a guileless smile. "It seems a pity to hang the lad before we've found out if there are others involved."
Alexander scowled. "Aye, you are right." He snapped his fingers at the Stewart clansmen lurking behind him. "Take this would-be killer to the dungeons and question him."
Rowena made a small sound of protest and started forward. Lion caught her wrist and whirled her into his embrace. "I am sorry, love. I've not greeted you properly." Crushing her to him, he hissed in her ear, "If you love life, keep silent."
"But—" she said breathlessly.
"Nay. One misstep now and you'll kill us all."
The stiffness left her slender body, and she nodded, but he guessed that her acquiescence was chancy at best. He needed to get her away, but knew they dared not leave. Damn. There was much that needed doing, too many people to protect. Glancing sideways at Heckie Sutherland, he jerked his head toward the party of Stewarts who were leading the terrified Colin away.
Heckie nodded and melted into the crowd on a course parallel to theirs. Small, canny and resourceful, Heckie was just the one to see the lad came to no harm…temporarily.
"I thank you for saving my life, Sir Eneas," Alexander fairly shouted. "Name your reward. Anything I have is yours."
"Nay," Rowena whispered, struggling against Lion's hold.
"Easy." He loosened his grip, but did not free her entirely, keeping one arm around her shoulder. "Wait and see."
"I was glad to be of service, Your Grace," said Eneas, his smile as oily as his manner. "I ask no reward save that I be allowed to join you in your worthy cause."
"Ah." Alexander beamed. "Where do you hail from? How many men do you command?"
"I am Eneas Gunn of Hillbrae."
Alexander's black scowl returned. "Hillbrae…was that not Padruig Gunn's holding?"
"Alas, my brother is dead."
"Mmm. So I had…heard. And you have inherited?"
"Well…" Eneas cast a smug glance at Rowena. "My brother's heir is a lad of five, placed in my guardianship."
Rowena gasped and surged forward.
Lion pulled her back, clamping his arm around her waist. "Speak, and your son will be an orphan," he muttered.
Alexander clapped Eneas on the shoulder with enough force to make him stagger. "Ah. Well, we are happy to have you with us. Come, let us toast our new alliance."
As they wandered off toward the refreshment tables, trailed by the rest of the court, Lion hustled Rowena in the opposite direction, ducking behind the tiers of vacant benches, the only shelter of any sort on the open field.
"Let go of me," Rowena snapped the moment they were private. When he released her, she turned to leave.
"Stay, or I swear I will gag you, truss you up like a goose bound for market and stow you under these seats till the gathering is over."
She turned on him, shaking with fury. "Brute! You awful, hateful brute." She came at him, pounding her fists against his chest, calling him names no lady should know. He let her rail. When the storm was spent, he splayed his hands across her back and held her close while she wept.
At length, she lifted her head. "Why did you let them take Colin away? Why did you not let me speak out for my son?"
"Because Alexander is not a reasonable man. He will not pardon the lad nor heed your pleas for your son. His main aim is to raise an army. Eneas not only saved his life, he offers him more men. At the moment, Eneas holds the upper hand. Only a fool would speak against him."
"Or a coward."
Lion smiled. "You may think me that if it helps."
She hesitated, then shook her head. "Nay, it is just…"
"Hard to stand by and see such injustice prevail. I know, believe me, I know."
She stepped back, and he let her go. "There is no telling what
harm may befall Colin in the dungeons."
"Aye, he's in considerable danger."
"Do you think they will hang him?"
Lion was spared telling her a lie when Bryce walked around the corner of the viewing stand, carrying two cups of wine. Lion knew his cousin had not come to offer refreshments, but to receive instructions. Knowing also that time was short, Lion spread his cloak on the grass and bowed to Rowena. "Will you rest and partake of the wine Bryce so thoughtfully brought us?"
She sat, looking dazed, as one who has survived disaster but not come to grips with it.
Lion drew Bryce a few paces away. "Get a message to the lads in the hills," he said in French. Lion had with him thirty men, but another fifty Sutherlands camped secretly in the hills, a reserve force about which the earl knew nothing. "They have three hours to get inside Blantyre and get Colin out."
"Three hours? It'll not be full dark by then."
"I know, but it cannot be helped. We must act quickly. They'll not be looking for anyone to come so soon. And I'd not have the lad spend the night in the dungeon."
"I'll take a few of our lads from here and go now."
"Nay. The MacPhersons will be the first to point the finger in our direction when the lad vanishes. I want every Sutherland visible and accounted for this afternoon. And I want all attention focused here."
"How do you propose to accomplish that? I think the only event left for today is putting the stone. That can be a deadly boring affair and folk are bound to wander off."
"Aye, what we need is something exciting. A challenge." Lion cocked his head, a plan forming. "Send that message to the lads. I'll take care of the entertainments."
Lion's mind was brimming with plans as he sat down beside Rowena and drank from the second cup.
"Why did you claim we were betrothed?" she asked.
"'Twas the only thing I could think of on short notice. I'd no great desire to see you join young Colin Ross in Blantyre's dungeon," Lion said. "And the way things were headed…"
"You cannot hold me to it."
Lion's Lady Page 9
