“I am very happy tae know ye,” she said.
Bane didn’t even let them reply to her before he was making demands. “What are ye doing here?” he asked. “’Tis a cold winter’s night for ye tae be so far from home.”
The one who had called Bane by name, Hamlin, still wasn’t over the shock of seeing him. He pulled Bane down into an empty chair at their table. Lucia ended up on Bane’s lap because there were no more chairs.
“We’re heading tae Inverness,” Hamlin said. “The winter has been bad tae the north, and we’ve had sickness move through the village. Do ye remember old Keltie?”
Bane nodded quickly. “The apothecary,” he said. “He’s still alive, is he? The man was ancient when I was a lad.”
Hamlin agreed. “That he was,” he said. “Do ye remember how a-feared we were of him? I was afraid tae look at him lest I turn tae stone.”
Bane snorted. “We all were,” he said. “But he’s a knowledgeable man. Is he sending ye intae Inverness?”
Hamlin nodded. “He is,” he said. “We’ve a list of medicines tae purchase tae help the sick. But no more talk of us. Bane, where have ye been, lad? We dinna see ye again after Jedburgh and we thought ye were dead.”
Bane quickly sobered. He knew this would come up when he reached Ledmore, and rightly so, but it seemed that he wasn’t as prepared as he’d thought to answer for his actions. He loved Hamlin like a brother; they’d grown up together. Dougal and Ramsey, too. He didn’t want them to think poorly of him.
He sighed faintly.
“I did what I shouldna have done,” he said quietly. “After the ambush with the Sassenachs…I couldna face what I’d done. Ye were there, Hamlin. Ye know what I’m talking about. I couldna return tae Ledmore and face those women and children, knowing I’d killed their sons and fathers and husbands. So…I ran away. I’m ashamed of myself, but that’s what I did.”
Hamlin didn’t seem surprised by the confession. “But it wasna yer fault,” he said quietly. “We all had a hand in the decision. Ye werena alone in it, lad.”
“But I’m the one who disobeyed my da,” Bane said. “All of ye looked tae me as yer commander and I led ye astray. It was stupid and reckless. It was my pride that did it, I suppose. I brought shame on my da and I just couldna face it.”
Hamlin reached out, putting a hand on Bane’s arm. “No one blamed ye,” he said. “Ye never let us tell ye that. Ye disappeared before we could.”
Bane shook his head, unwilling to be forgiven. Not yet, anyway. “I thought it would be best if I left. Hamlin, I never had the chance tae tell ye I was sorry I got yer brother killed. If I could have given my life for his, I would have.”
Hamlin smiled wryly. “Cauley was charging against the Sassenachs before ye ever gave the command,” he said. “He would have done it with or without ye, Bane. Ye take too much credit for my brother’s foolishness. Ye’re not tae blame.”
“While I appreciate that, I was with Cauley when he drowned,” Bane said quietly. “I tried tae swim with him, but he panicked. I couldna save him and save myself, too, so I chose myself. Hamlin…I hope ye can forgive me.”
Hamlin’s smile turned real and he took Bane’s hand. “I forgave ye the moment it happened,” he said. “I wish I could have told ye that before ye ran.”
Bane appreciated his mercy. It did much to help him deal with the guilt he’d carried since that time. “Ye’re a good man, Hamlin,” he said, looking to the other men at the table. “The two of ye, as well. I’ve missed ye all.”
Hamlin squeezed his hand. “We’ve missed ye a great deal,” he said. “No one knew what had happened tae ye, least of all yer da. The not knowing…it ate at him, Bane. He was convinced ye hated him.”
Bane shook his head, feeling his guilt return. “I dinna want tae shame him,” he said. “Mayhap if everyone thought I was dead and gone…the object of their hatred would be gone. It wouldna reflect poorly on my da.”
Hamlin hesitated before speaking. “Ye should know something, Bane,” he said. “Yer da took the blame for the ambush. He told everyone that he ordered ye tae take the men. No one but those of us who survived know the truth, and Uncle Arch swore us tae secrecy.”
Bane’s eyes widened in shock. “Christ,” he muttered. “Did he really take the blame?”
“He did.”
“Damn the man… He shouldna have done that. It was my fault!”
Hamlin shook his head. “It wasna anyone’s fault,” he said. “That’s what I was trying tae tell ye. Ye were in command of a group of hotheaded Albannach who would have gone even if ye hadna disobeyed yer da. Uncle Arch knew that. That’s why he took the blame.”
Bane wasn’t happy about that at all. He sat there, his brow furrowed with distress, unable to articulate what he was feeling. So many emotions were running through his mind, not the least of which was horror.
“I canna let that go on,” he said. “That’s why I returned, lads, tae see my da and tae apologize tae him for what I did. Tae tell him that there hasna been a day since that the guilt of it hasna consumed me. I’ll tell everyone in Ledmore who will listen that it wasna his fault at all, it was mine. I canna let him accept responsibility for something that wasna his fault. How is he, anyway? Ye said there was sickness in Ledmore. Is my da well?”
Hamlin glanced at Dougal and Ramsey, who didn’t seem able to meet his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he answered Bane’s question.
“Uncle Arch was one of the first tae get the fever, Bane,” he said. “That was about two months ago. He was strong, but in the end, the fever claimed him. I’m so sorry, lad. He’s gone.”
Bane sat back in his chair, staring at Hamlin. He could feel Lucia’s hand seek his, squeezing it, but she wisely kept silent. She didn’t say a word. Bane didn’t say a word, either. He couldn’t. He simply sat there as the news sank in.
Tears formed in his eyes.
His father was gone.
“How…how long ago?” he asked hoarsely.
Hamlin’s expression was full of sympathy. “A little over a month,” he said. “My da has taken over as the clan chief. Bane, Uncle Arch fought hard until the end. Ye should know that. And he never stopped loving ye, lad. I dunna think he ever gave up hope that someday ye might return.”
Bane swallowed hard as tears streamed down his cheeks. The pain of grief was too much to bear.
“I did return,” he whispered. “But not in time. Christ…not in time.”
“But ye’re here now,” Dougal spoke up. “At least ye came when ye could.”
Bane dropped his head, staring at his lap, struggling to process the death of his father. The man he loved most in the world, the man he’d betrayed so badly. The guilt was consuming him, guilt that he’d let his father die without apologizing to him, without telling him that he loved him.
God, he’d been so stupid. He’d stayed away, wallowing in self-pity, uncaring of the effect it was having on his father. He’d only been thinking about himself.
Now, he was only thinking about his father.
I’m so sorry, Da…
“Thank ye for telling me,” he finally said, wiping at his face. “Thank ye for giving my da comfort in the end. I know he loved ye, Hamlin. He looked at ye as another son.”
Hamlin smiled weakly. “My da and I were with him when he passed,” he said. “He wasna alone, Bane. We were there.”
That threatened Bane’s composure again, but he fought it. There would be a moment for him to weep unashamedly for his father, but now wasn’t the time in a room full of strangers. When he was alone with Lucia, he would grieve his father properly.
“And I thank ye for it,” he said. “It means a great deal tae me.”
As Hamlin nodded, Dougal spoke up again. “We thought ye were dead, Bane,” he said. “Mayhap this isna the right time tae say this, but Uncle Andrew is now clan chief. That title
rightly belongs tae ye, as Uncle Arch’s son.”
Bane looked at him. That was very true, something that didn’t even occur to him until Dougal said it. Immediately, he shook his head.
“Nay,” he said firmly. “I dunna want it. I dunna deserve it. Uncle Andrew will make a fine chieftain. But not me.”
Hamlin frowned. “But it is yer legacy, Bane,” he said. “It belongs tae ye.”
Bane continued to shake his head. “Hamlin, I’ll ask ye a question and I want ye tae answer truthfully. Is the village at peace now?”
“Aye.”
“Are the people happy?”
“Aye, for the most part.”
“And they respect Uncle Andrew as the chieftain?”
“They do. Very much.”
“Then I’ve no right tae disrupt that,” Bane said, raising his voice. “I came home tae see my da and make peace, not insert myself where I havena been for over two years. Let Uncle Andrew be the chieftain. He has earned it. Me… I’ve not earned anything. Let things lie.”
Hamlin looked at Dougal and Ramsey, who weren’t quite sure how to react. “Bane,” Hamlin said, “ye canna legitimately refuse yer inheritance. It belongs only tae ye.”
“I can refuse it if I’m dead,” Bane said. “Ye said yerself that everyone thought I was dead. Well, let them keep thinking that. There’s no reason for me tae return tae Ledmore and upset everyone’s lives. Ye’ll not tell anyone that ye’ve seen me, do ye hear? I’m dead tae ye, too.”
Hamlin could see what he was doing even if Dougal and Ramsey couldn’t. The man knew that returning after a long absence and assuming his legal rights would only shake up Clan Morgan. He was sacrificing his legacy for the sake of peace in the clan. And perhaps because he truly didn’t feel worthy of it, too.
It was a difficult choice that only a man of honor would have made.
“Are ye sure that’s what ye want, Bane?” he asked.
Bane looked at Lucia for the first time since sitting down at the table. A smile played on her lips as she returned his gaze, a smile of warmth and love and encouragement.
“’Tis yer decision,” she said softly. “I’ll stand by ye no matter what ye do.”
He gave her a gentle squeeze, mulling over the situation, his options, his wants. “I promised ye a home,” he said. “Latheron Tower is a fine home.”
“Is it what ye want?”
He thought on that. “Would ye be angry if I said I wanted tae return tae the Cal?”
She shook her head. “Of course not,” she said. “Yer friends are there. A new life is there. ’Tis a grand thing tae have a place like that waiting for ye.”
Her reasoning made his decision for him. Bane turned to his cousins.
“Aye,” he said firmly. “It’s what I want. Please dunna tell Uncle Andrew that ye saw me. He doesna need that burden on him, ’tis difficult enough tae be the chieftain. Let him think what my da thought…that I’m dead and buried somewhere. It’ll be easier that way.”
Hamlin was grieved by the decision, but he understood. “Ye realize that when my da passes on, I’ll become the chieftain.”
“And a fine one ye’ll be, Hamlin. I know ye’ll make me proud. But do something for me, please.”
“Whatever ye want.”
“Where is my da buried?”
“In the little churchyard next tae St. John’s Church,” he said. “Ye can see it from Latheron.”
Bane knew the church well. He’d spent a good deal of time there as a child, having his knuckles rapped by the priests because he wouldn’t pay attention to their teachings. Reaching out, he took Hamlin’s hand.
“When ye return home, will ye go tae my father’s grave and tell him that ye found me?” he asked, his voice cracking. “Will ye tell him that I’m happy? Tell him I’ve married a woman who has shown me what it means tae love. Tell him…tell him that I know he’d be proud of the man I’ve become and that I love him very much. Will ye do that for me?”
Hamlin’s eyes filled with tears. “I will,” he said. “He was always proud of ye, Bane. Did ye not know that?”
Bane was struggling with his composure again. “I wish I could have heard him tell me,” he said. “I wish I could have earned it. He deserved better than I gave him, Hamlin. I’ll spend the rest of my life living the way I think he would have wanted me tae.”
Hamlin sniffled, giving Bane’s hand a squeeze before releasing him so he could wipe his face. “Dougal,” he said gruffly. “Make yerself useful. Go get us some warmed wine. We’ll make it a night of celebrating the return of a brother.”
As Dougal and Ramsey went to gather the requested drink, Lucia stood up from Bane’s lap.
“I’ll leave ye with yer menfolk,” she said to Bane. “I’m a little tired, anyway. I wouldna be very good conversation.”
Bane smiled at her, appreciating the fact that she wanted to give him time alone with his cousins. Time to speak on things to soothe his soul, to bring closure to a part of his life that needed it. He kissed her hands.
“I’ll join ye later,” he said.
She patted him on the cheek as she turned to Hamlin. “It was very nice tae meet ye, Hamlin,” she said. “Mayhap we will see each other again someday.”
“I hope so, Lady Morgan,” Hamlin said.
With a final smile to her husband, Lucia retreated to their chamber, giving her husband the private time with his cousins that he so badly needed. Running into them at the tavern had been fortuitous in so many ways; it had been cathartic to Bane in a sense. Perhaps Hamlin told him something he didn’t want to hear with the death of his father, but in the end, it put Bane on a different path.
A path to a new life.
The Ludus Caledonia was a large part of that new life, a place where Bane could start fresh and new, where there was no past hounding him. Only a future that would unlock his potential. Lucia didn’t care about a home of their own that he had promised her, at least not now. She was content to return with him to the Ludus Caledonia, a place she knew very well.
The past month had given her a good perspective on what had happened at Meadowbank and why. Bane had convinced her that she wouldn’t be punished for killing Colly in self-defense because he was quite certain Laird Currie would not allow it. That gave her the confidence to return with Bane to the Ludus Caledonia, knowing that, come what may, he would protect her from harm. He would protect her from anything Lady Currie could throw at her.
Bane was not only the Highland Defender—he was her defender, too.
A giant among men.
As Lucia finally found rest on the mattresses on the floor, feeling the delicious heat from the brazier, her thoughts turned to the future and what would come for her and Bane. For whatever happened, it would be with Bane by her side, for all time. She’d been married to the man for nearly a month, and already it seemed as if they had always been together.
She couldn’t imagine her life without him.
Had Lucia not taken that shortcut in Edinburgh and suffered the attack of sausage thieves, she would never have met the man who had come to be her purpose for living. That defeated wretch of a man she had shown kindness to had been an angel in disguise.
Bane had called her his angel once, and he continued to call her that to this day. But the truth was that he was her savior.
Her love.
When Lucia finally drifted off to sleep, it was with dreams of the Ludus Caledonia.
Dreams of home.
Epilogue
Year of Our Lord 1487
July
“Watch out for his feet,” Lor muttered into Bane’s ear. “I told ye that the last time and ye dinna listen.”
It was a warm, dusty day over southern Scotland, with a brilliant sun hanging in the pale-blue sky.
And Bane had made a terrible mistake.
He and Lor had been working with a group of novicius in the Fields of Mars when Magnus, who was in the holding area next to the arena, challenged Bane to a fight. Bane would have refused except Magnus was smirking at him in a mocking manner, one that had Bane accepting before he’d even stopped to think about it.
Now he was stuck.
The group of novicius had been moved into the lists which, unfortunately for Bane, also included his wife and Isabail this morning. They were sitting about halfway up the arena, in the shade for the most part, watching their men train new recruits. Now they’d be watching a rematch between Bane and Magnus, who was strutting over on the other side of the arena, pointing his finger at Bane and laughing.
Bane liked Magnus well enough. In fact, they’d become good friends since his return to the Ludus Caledonia three months ago. Magnus was arrogant but loyal and wise when he settled down enough to display those characteristics. Rumor had it that Clegg was getting ready to move him to another fight guild, the Ludus Antonine in Glasgow, because it was becoming extremely popular and the moneymaking potential was great. Magnus didn’t particularly want to go, but as a career warrior, he went where he was told.
Therefore, Bane might not get another chance to best the man.
“He’ll not get those feet anywhere near my head,” Bane said confidently. “If he tries, I’ll break his toes.”
Lor snorted, turning away from Bane but catching sight of someone else entering the arena. Galan, who used to help him train novicius but had since moved on to become the trainer of his own group, was emerging from the staging area with two shields and two wooden swords.
Lor came to a halt.
“What are ye doing here?” he called.
Galan smiled broadly. He was big, strong, and handsome, and there had been a time when Lady Currie, long ago, had noticed him. But he’d refused her just as Bane had, only she hadn’t pursued him nearly as hard. He’d slipped away unscathed.
“I thought we might team up against the Highland Dimwit and the Chicken,” Galan said, watching Bane laugh and Magnus’s feathers ruffle. “I’m sorry. I meant the Highland Defender and the Eagle. My apologies.”
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