“Ach,” he said softly. “Ye’ve carried a heavy burden.”
She pitched her voice so low she barely breathed the words. “There was talk at Bella Court that King Henry had been enchanted. There were whispers…about me. The visions I have…I cannot hide them now like once I did.”
He wiped his hand over his eyes, shaking his head. “That’s what set ye runnin’ and overcome with fear in the hall that day. I knew Katherine had seen ye sae before, I could read it in her eyes.”
Isabella wetted her lips. “Colyne—the day you took us on the road—I have never had a sending so vivid. I have had it again since, every time a little more clear, the worst of it in the hall that day.”
“What do ye see?” His brow knitted. “Ye dinna see the flames for yourself?”
“I do not know what I see! I do not know where we are, Kat and I. If a house, ’tis a very old one. I know I am with the queen, with the ladies of the court, the king. The walls and floor crack. We are screaming. I see—” Her voice broke and it was a moment before she could continue. “A man with a knife. The queen is bleeding. I see him turn to me, raise the knife then he—” Her hand went to her chest where, in her vision, the knife plunged. “I see his hair by the light of the fire. It looks like yours.”
He stared back her, appalled. “Ye see me hurt ye?”
Isabella shook her head. “I do not see his face.”
“But ye ran from me that day.”
“I see his hair. In the light of the fire that day, your hair—the way you stood—”
“I am nae murderer!”
“You hate James, you told me yourself. He is hated throughout the Highlands. Any number of lairds would be overjoyed to see his head raised on a pike outside Edinburgh castle.”
“Do ye see—will the king die?”
“I do not know. Mayhap both king and queen, and me as well.”
“Is that what ye see?” he demanded sharply. “Ye see yer own death there as well?”
Tears blinded her. “I do not know. Ever since Jehanne, I have thought that I should not live to be much older than I am now. But Kat! Please, when we have brought her back safely, will you let her stay? Will you keep her here, even if she does not wish it?”
“Do they always come to pass, these things ye see?”
She looked at the fire. “Yes.”
“Today, when ye come running, I would have ridden at yer word. Ye sought to save them.”
“But it did not matter, you did not reach them in time. They were taken anyway.”
“But I might have. I waited for the other lads, but if I had ridden alone, just then, I might have been there to stop it.” He looked at her. “Will ye come to me and tell me when ye see these things?”
She shifted in her seat. “That is not wise. There are none would believe you innocent of sorcery if I were denounced.”
“Some of Jehanne’s troops were Scottish. Do not judge us by English ways.”
“Jehanne was a saint! I am not even a maiden any more!”
His face twitched. “Isabella, I—” He broke off as the sound of raised voices reached them. He stood. “Malcolm.”
They arrived in the great hall just before Colyne’s uncle entered. Sweat streaked Malcolm’s face even in the chill air. He was breathless. Others gathered too, anxious to hear the news.
“Tell me,” Colyne said.
“Old MacLaulach is dead, his son is laird now,” Malcolm said. “They made me wait there till the man could be brought to speak to me. The MacLaulach clansmen told him nae to meet with ye.”
Isabella’s heart sank. All this, she thought, only to have it end in bloodshed.
Malcolm pushed back his damp hair. “But the MacLaulach shouted them down. He will meet with ye where our lands join, if ye come with me and nae other man.”
Colyne looked grim. “What’s yer measure of the MacLaulach?”
“He’s younger than ye, leaner. I have seen him before, I’m sure of it. I think ’twas he that may have cut ye, lad. This one is determined and the others will follow him.”
“Do ye think he’ll treat with us honestly?”
“I think so, lad. But I would be wrong to tell ye to go. If he’s false and kills us both, with Angus hurt, and Jamie taken, there’s nae enough in the village to ride against them without help and none ready to lead them as laird.”
“Did you see any of them?” Isabella asked. “Katherine or Caitrina or Jamie?”
Malcolm shook his head and reflected his fears for his youngest in his eyes. “The MacLaulach said Jamie was hurt, but nae badly, and he says Caitrina is tendin’ him. He says the women will nae be dishonored.”
“Do ye believe him?” Colyne asked.
“Aye,” Malcolm said at last. “On that matter I do.”
Colyne folded his arms, his brow furrowed. “But he says he will treat with us?”
“Aye,” said Malcolm reluctantly. “I dinna think ye will like what ye hear, Colyne. The lad has a hard look in his eye.”
Colyne nodded. “When do we treat with him?”
“Tomorrow, early.”
“You and I will ride out to meet him,” Colyne said. He glanced at the clansmen and pitched his voice so only Malcolm could hear. “Have them prepare as best they can if we dinna come back. Have riders at the ready to seek our allies if we dinna return. Go an’ tell the lads then get yerself some rest.”
Isabella followed Colyne into the outer hall as Malcolm hurried off to relay the laird’s orders. “My lord—”
He glanced at her, his mouth a grim line. “If I dinna come back, Angus will take ye and Sir William to Perth.”
“No. I go with you tomorrow to see the MacLaulach.”
He blinked. “Nae,” he said shortly, turning to walk away.
“I am going with you,” she insisted, keeping pace.
“Yer stayin’ here, and that’s all there is to it!”
“You asked me to speak to you whenever I”—she lowered her voice, glancing around the outer hall to be sure she would not be overheard—“saw something.”
Now he did stop to look at her, frowning. “Have ye?”
“No,” she said honestly. “But if I did I would be too far away to tell you.”
He shook his head, and started away again. “Ach, yer talkin’ foolishness!”
“You said you might have altered things if you had ridden right away, if you had gone at my word. Caitrina and Jamie and Katherine are held by your enemy. If there is any advantage you have, you must take it.”
“I canna take ye, even if I were lunatic enough to! The MacLaulach said only me and Malcolm.”
“And no other man. I am not a man.”
“Ye cannot even lift a sword, let alone wield it if ye had to!”
“Jehanne never lifted a sword. She carried her banner only and she led armies.”
“Ye are nae Jehanne!”
“No, I am not Jehanne but you have need of me and I am going with you.”
“Ach, yer daft!”
She met him look for look.
“I’d be a madman to take ye there!”
“But you will?”
“Aye,” he spat. “Like the cursed fool I am, I will take ye!”
They rode out at first light.
Isabella felt sluggish and so tired that she longed to crawl back under the quilts. When she found her bed the previous night she had fallen into an exhausted sleep, for once untroubled by nightmares. She slept deeply, but not near enough. Mary woke her when it was still full dark. Isabella stood blinking against sleepiness as the girl dressed her in her warmest clothes. Even in stout boots, woolen chemise and hose, fur-lined gown, cloak and gloves, she felt the chill.
She hesitated at the top of the stairs that morning knowing Colyne awaited in the great hall. She felt curiously uncentered with her secret known. It felt as if the earth had shifted beneath her feet and the world around her had settled into new and unfamiliar contours.
She could scarcely meet hi
s eye when she joined the grim company in the great hall to break her fast.
He sat her beside him at the table as if it were natural she should be there. At meal’s end he paced his steps to walk next to her to the courtyard where the horses, saddled and ready to ride, waited. He helped her onto Cobweb himself and when Colyne placed the reins in her hands, his touch lingered.
He knew now, knew her worst, and he did not recoil from her.
She searched his face, her heart speeding up. Whatever had happened that night…but things are different now. I am sure of it. When we come back again, perhaps—
Malcolm brought his horse beside hers, his brow knitted with worry. “The MacLaulach awaits us. We must nae dawdle.”
“You dinna need to remind me, ye ken, Uncle.” Colyne took the reins of the charger from Jamie.
Malcolm shook his head at Colyne as he mounted up. “Ach, lad, what are ye thinking to bring this lady? If ’tis a trap, ye lead her right to danger as well.”
Colyne was silent for a moment, fingering the reins in his hands, then squared his shoulders. “I ken what I’m about. Let’s go then.”
Colyne led the way, she next, and Malcolm following. The sounds of the horses’ hooves were heavy as they crossed the wooden bridge.
Frost lay everywhere, the air so sharp and chill with coming snow that it stung Isabella’s eyes. She held the hood of her cloak closed over her nose and mouth to protect her face. The tiny hairs of the pelt poked at the corner of her eye and her breath made the fur lining moist. Still, the unpleasant smell of the damp fur was preferable to the biting cold against her cheeks.
Colyne’s back was straight as he rode before her. He kept the pace moderate and Cobweb had no trouble keeping up. The horses’ hooves crunched the snow as they rode into the woods.
He let her come on the shaky premise a vision might appear to warn him of treachery or provide guidance. Only, she had no idea how to summon a vision to her. She could no more predict when a sending would appear than she could call forth a rain shower. Isabella shifted through her memories, seeking something she did or could do to bring one on.
Certainly she never wished for them to come. They were unwelcome, a peculiarity that set her apart and made her uneasy in her own company. The visions came suddenly, without warning or reason.
But if I can summon one, I will know for certain Kat is safe.
And if I am with child or not…
Colyne picked up the charger’s pace. Court life had made her well practiced at tying her fears up into a tiny parcel. She knew how to place that parcel in a corner of her mind and return to the reel with a merry expression and no one the wiser. Isabella had no difficulty keeping up with the men now.
It was near mid-morning when Colyne slowed his horse to a walk, the woods thinned, and in moments they were beyond the snowy trees and into a clearing.
Colyne’s shoulders tensed and Malcolm cursed under his breath.
Isabella’s lips parted when she saw the number of MacLaulach men awaiting them on the other side of the glade.
Colyne reined in, holding position as he faced the enemy. Malcolm and Colyne were armed of course, but two against more than a score was no contest.
Silence greeted them as the horses pawed at the ground. The MacLaulach clansmen were grimly surprised when they caught sight of her but they stayed, plainly willing to tolerate her here.
Colyne dismounted, handed the reins of the charger to his uncle, and approached Isabella.
“Stay on yer horse,” he warned, as she readied to dismount.
She settled back into the saddle as he came to stand beside her.
He looked up at her expectantly.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered. “I have no guidance to offer you.”
“Then mayhap Heaven thinks I will have nae need of it.”
He glanced toward the MacLaulachs. The men regarded him grimly. The clansmen’s horses tossed their heads with impatience.
“Hang back as best ye can,” Colyne said quietly, his breath visible in the cold. “If there’s bloodshed, turn and ride like the Mouth of Hell is behind ye an’ dinna look back. If they catch ye before ye reach MacKimzie castle …” He stopped, his mouth working for a moment. “Tell them who ye are. I canna think but they’ll be eager for the ransom. But, Isabella—dinna tell them what ye told me.”
I should not have come! Her presence here endangered Colyne and Malcolm tenfold. Colyne would fight to give her the best chance to make it back to the castle, even if doing so would destroy his own chance of escape.
“I know you will prevail here, Colyne. I know you will bring us all home again safely.”
“I dinna ken ye thought sae well of me.” He put his hand on the horse’s neck and looked into her face searchingly. “Tell me, lass, last night, when ye were tendin’ me arm—”
Colyne leaned closer, his chest against her leg, and dropped his voice to a whisper.
“Ye peeked, dinna ye?”
Isabella’s face went hot, and she looked down at him, open-mouthed with embarrassment.
Colyne grinned. “Ah, now there’s somethin’ for a man to live for.”
He turned and strode toward the MacLaulachs with confident grace, his head held up proudly. “I am the MacKimzie,” Colyne called out to them when he reached the center of the clearing. He carried his shield and spread his arms wide, his sword sheathed. “I am come to treat with your laird.”
A young man dismounted from his horse in the MacLaulach line near the trees. He met Colyne in the center, keeping a half dozen paces between them.
The MacLaulach was younger, shorter, and leaner than Colyne. “I am the MacLaulach,” he said, when he was within a few steps of Colyne. The young laird was armed, but did not draw his sword.
Colyne nodded to him. “Ye’ve taken two of me clan, and an English lady. I would have them back.”
“Yer man said you wanted to trade for them.” The MacLaulach jutted his chin toward Colyne. “And what are ye offerin’ in exchange, MacKimzie?”
“Fifteen coos.”
The MacLaulach gave a humorless laugh. “Yer a wealthy man indeed, MacKimzie, to offer sae much.”
“I dinna wish to insult ye or do disservice to me clansmen by offerin’ less.”
The MacLaulach looked at him, gaze narrowed, then gave a short nod.
“Ye can have the lad and the English lady for the coos,” the MacLaulach agreed. “But the lass, no.”
Isabella felt the air rush out of her lungs. Colyne’s stance went rigid.
“Ye dinna mean,” Colyne began, his voice sounding strangled. “Caitrina’s nae dead?”
The MacLaulach shook his head sharply. “She’s nae hurt. Still, her ye will nae have back, MacKimzie, not ever.”
Colyne unsheathed his sword in an explosion of fury and Isabella felt herself blanch.
God’s blood, what is he doing? With his shoulder injured he is mad to take on the MacLaulach like this!
The young laird scarce had time to block the swing of Colyne’s sword. He got the shield under his shoulder and shoved Colyne backward. The MacLaulach moved back quickly to bring his sword up and his men shifted to rush forward.
Catching sight of their movement, the young laird threw them a furious glare.
“Stand ye by!” the MacLaulach shouted.
Startled and angered by their laird’s order, his clansmen stopped their charge. Grumbling, they obeyed and fell back to the tree line.
The MacLaulach watched warily as Colyne edged toward him. “Ye can still go in peace, MacKimzie.”
“And leave me sister with the likes of you?” Colyne’s eyes narrowed. He circled. “Yer nae match for me, MacLaulach.”
“We’ll see,” the young laird spat.
Colyne darted forward with startling quickness, bringing his sword down and around. The MacLaulach blocked with his shield, but just barely. The MacLaulach’s blade came up, knocking Colyne’s sword away as the younger man jumped back and regrouped.
Colyne ducked back, taken by surprise at the ferocity of the attack. In the next instant Colyne rushed and hammered at the MacLaulach with a series of blows. The young laird fell back, limping and breathing hard. He got his footing, his shield held firm, sword at the ready.
“Ye’ll die here, lad,” Colyne taunted. “Yer innards spilt on the ground!”
The MacLaulach went pale, but his grip tightened on his sword, his face set and determined. “Have at me then.”
“I’ll have yer head rottin’ on a pike!”
The MacLaulach men tensed as their laird fell, scarcely rolling out away from Colyne’s swing. They had swords in hand already. If their laird died, Colyne would not outlive him long.
The MacLaulach shifted, drawing strength from his inner core, a man ready to die now—and kill. This young laird fought recklessly, as if he were already lost—
It was not a vision that came to Isabella then; it was a memory.
“Hold!” she cried, swinging from her palfrey.
She dropped Cobweb’s reins. The nervous animal retreated back toward the other horses as she ran toward the men.
The field was icy, the hard ground beneath treacherously uneven as she ran. Her heavy woolen dress hindered her, her boots clumsy in the snow, and Malcolm was shouting at her to stop. Isabella seized her skirts and lifted them to run faster, the stays of her dress choking off the breath she needed so badly for speed, heedless that the MacLaulach men could see her legs to the garters.
Colyne’s sword swung back and the MacLaulach tensed, coming at him from beneath.
“Stay your hands!” she screamed.
Another Man's Bride Page 16
