The lure of the enclosed bed, with Juliana inside its sanctuary, was strong. She slept, and needed sleep, but he hoped that she would at least turn to welcome his arms. He wanted no more than that just now. Being here, so close to Glenshie and yet so far from it, he desperately craved solace for his soul.
The only place he could find that was alone with Juliana. Yet he lingered, searching the skyline for the giantess's face.
Wherever that was, he would find Glenshie.
Chapter 21
They came as they always had, gliding in toward the shore when she appeared, their graceful white bodies reflected in the rippling mirror of the water. Leisurely they swam toward her, without greeting or flurry, as if no time had passed.
As if she had not changed to the core of her soul since the last time she had stood here.
She tossed grain from a small sack and watched the swans feed. Their heads dipped, their bodies spun as they sought the offerings. Life was simple and direct for them, peace amid wildness. They accepted the food, just as they accepted her presence or her absence.
Only a few weeks had passed since she had last been here, but she had changed. She felt wiser, deeper, more aware of her need for peace, and home—and love. The doors of her life had opened, and Gawain had walked in, like a torch in the darkness. And nothing would ever be the same again.
She frowned to herself, remembering with an exquisite shiver how she had awakened in the middle of the night to find him asleep beside her. She lay beside him, savoring his warmth and the reassuring cadence of his breathing before she slept again.
She stepped toward the water, careful not to wet the hem of the mulberry gown that Gawain's mother had given her. Until she sent for her things at Inchfillan, she had only this or the white gown. Though the white satin held unpleasant memories, the mulberry serge was a comforting reminder of Avenel and the brief happiness she had felt there.
She looked over her shoulder at her chaperones. Laurie Kirkpatrick sat beneath a tree, while Brother Eonan sat nearby, pulling blades of grass as the two men talked. Each, now and then, glanced toward her. As usual, she kept a careful silence.
After awakening late that morning, she had breakfasted on some unappetizing oatcakes, which Laurie proudly claimed were of his own making. He then told her that Gawain had ridden out to Dalbrae to see the sheriff.
Exploring the castle more thoroughly after breakfast, she had noted further changes, and recalled more memories. Then she had gone to the loch with Laurie and Brother Eonan, who had come to the castle with some monks to tend the garden and the livestock.
The swans moved slowly in the water, and she walked along the bank, tossing grain to them, deep in her thoughts. Past a curve in the bank, she entered a little cove that was protected by a thick fringe of birches, out of sight of Laurie and Eonan.
Beyond the cove's outermost point, the loch narrowed like a waist, hardly wider than a river. Pine trees edged the opposite shore, fronting the dense forest where her rebel friends and kinsmen hid.
She felt a sudden urge to ignore her imposed boundaries and cross the loch to visit the forest rebels. Eonan might realize where she had gone, for he knew the rebels' hiding places as well as any of the monks. But he would not tell Laurie, she was sure.
Stripping out of her gown, she folded it and stuffed it under a fallen tree limb. Clad only in her linen chemise, she slipped into the water. Its coolness surrounded her as she sank down to her shoulders with a quiet sigh. She had always loved the sheer freedom of water.
The swans circled her, and she drew a breath and dove beneath them, surging far out in the water before surfacing for another breath. As she turned, arms treading, she saw that a few of the swans had glided out with her, forming a perfect shield.
On the shore, Laurie and Eonan sat with their backs to her. She took a breath and shot under the surface like an arrow, coming up for breath only twice more before reaching the shore.
Finding the familiar rock shelf below the water level, she grabbed it and pulled upward. Hidden by the low-hanging eaves of a huge pine, she climbed out, water sluicing from her.
This spot had long been a rendezvous. Sheltered beneath the swooping arms of the pine, she reached inside a fallen tree trunk and pulled out a canvas sack that she knew would be there.
As she expected, she found spare clothing: a bleached linen chemise, two tunics, a shirt, and soft boots. She pulled off her wet chemise and tucked it out of sight to dry, then dressed in the shirt, the serge tunic, and boots, which she had appropriated years ago from her brothers' belongings and kept here for her use. In the little cove, she kept a similar cache of belongings, including a white, feathered cape.
Within moments, she ran along a half-hidden track, her feet silent on a thick carpet of pine needles and bracken.
* * *
Struck to her soul, she stood in the entrance of the cave where the rebel families hid and looked out over the forest. She blinked against tears. A large portion had been laid waste by fire. Charred stumps of trees thrust upward, separated from the dense greenwood by a wide stream.
"What happened?" She turned to look at Red Angus and Lucas, who sat by the fire with some of the others. "While I was gone, what happened? Father Abbot mentioned nothing of this!"
"The sheriff's men rode here," Lucas answered curtly. He came forward, a short, dark, powerful man with anger etched in the folds of his face. "They suspect rebel activity in the forest, although Father Abbot has told them that only homeless innocents live here."
"The sheriff intends to eliminate any rebel threat in this area, so they are destroying the forest bit by bit," Red Angus said. He came forward from the fireside, too, so tall that he had to duck head and shoulders to stand with Juliana and Lucas. "Soon there will be nowhere to live. We have too many already living in these caves." He gestured toward the rocky hillside, split with a few narrow cave entrances.
"We will be forced to leave Glen Fillan entirely," Lucas growled. "De Soulis will persist until he destroys us all!"
"We have weapons and armor put by, and enough men to wield them," Juliana said. "We can fight back."
"Fight back, says you? The girl who will only lift her bow to stick a target?" Lucas asked.
"We cannot defeat De Soulis," Angus said. "That black armor of his is impenetrable. You know what they say of it. Not one of us will rise up against a man who practices the black arts!"
"He is just a king's man. Remember the stories said of me—there is no truth to them. I practice no magical arts. Why do you believe such rumors about him?"
"We have shot arrows at De Soulis from the treetops," Lucas said. "Every bolt bounces off his armor. He cannot be stopped. He bought it from the devil, they say."
She frowned. "Surely there is some way to stop him."
"He and his men will search the forests until every one of us is taken or killed. We have children and elderly to protect. Our only choice is to go elsewhere," Lucas replied.
"Juliana," an old woman said. She turned to see Beithag shuffle forward, her head and shoulders bowed beneath the plaid pulled over the crown of her head. "You can help us now."
"Mother Beithag, I doubt it, now. De Soulis does not believe in the ploy of the Swan Maiden," Juliana reminded her.
"But now you are wed to the garrison commander at Elladoune," Beithag said. "Let our men into the fortress at night, so they can take it over, as we have planned so long."
"You can do that," Angus urged, nodding.
Juliana frowned, feeling pressured, resisting a scheme that weeks ago she had supported. But she could not see it through if it would compromise Gawain's well-being. Sighing heavily, she looked from one hopeful, dearly familiar face to the next.
"My husband would suffer for it," she said. "I... I cannot betray him."
"Ach," Lucas muttered with disgust, turning away.
"Only let us in," Angus said. "We will do the rest. We have weapons and armor stored away—"
"Please do not as
k this of me!"
Lucas scowled. "Before, you would have helped us!"
"Look at her face—leave her be," Beithag said. "She has feelings for her Sassenach husband. A wife should never betray her husband. Find some other way of taking the castle."
"Gawain Avenel has shown kindness to me, and so I cannot play him false," Juliana explained defensively. "That is all."
"Ach," Lucas ground out again. "Now what? We have been kind to you too. Some of us are your kin. We have children here, a woman with child, others who need help and shelter. Will you turn your back on us?"
Anguish yanked at her. Angus's glance was sympathetic, but Lucas glowered; he would never let her be about this, she knew.
"Juliana," Angus said. "We men can fend for ourselves. Some of us want to join the rebel army, but we cannot leave our families like this. You can ask your husband to help us."
Lucas snorted. "Not him! He has already begun his campaign against us!"
Juliana frowned. "What do you mean?"
"My sons saw him this morning," Lucas said. "He was riding the paths and the hills. He stopped on his horse, and watched the forest and the hillsides, then rode on, and stopped elsewhere to do the same. My sons tracked him for a while."
"He is curious about the area," Juliana said, wanting to defend him, though she found herself wondering at his actions.
"No doubt he looks over the land to send word back to the sheriff. More of our forest home will be destroyed. More land will be trampled by Sassenachs."
"He might help us, if I asked him," she ventured. Lucas shook his head and growled his doubt.
"Listen to Juliana," another man said. Juliana turned to see Uilleam Beithag's husband. Bent and grayed, he maintained a quiet but strong presence among the rebels. "If he cares for her as she seems to do for him, she could ask a favor of him, and he would grant it."
"What favor, husband?" Beithag asked.
"Ask him to go to the sheriff and demand that he stop the raids here, so that we can live in peace. This part of the forest is on Elladoune's property. He has a right to ask."
An idea blossomed in her mind. Juliana looked around at them. "All of you could live at Elladoune," she said. "There is no garrison there, and plenty of space."
They stared at her. Lucas lowered his brows. "Live under the same roof with Sassenachs?"
"Lucas, we could keep your family there, so you would be free to join Robert Bruce's army," Juliana said. "Angus, you could go with him. I will ask my husband to shelter those made homeless by the Sassenachs. But for now, I must get back, or my long absence will appear suspicious."
"Hah," Lucas muttered, "she has to slip away to come see us, but she is sure we will all be welcome at the castle! Girl, just let us into the castle by night. We will see to the rest."
"I cannot do that," she said. "But the women and children and old ones can find shelter at Elladoune." Surely Gawain, who had an innate kindness, would allow that. "He is an honorable man, my husband, for a Sassenach."
"Bah," Lucas said.
"Smitten," Beithag said, nodding to Uilleam.
"It is better than staying here," Angus said slowly.
"I will be back," Juliana said. "I must go, and hope that my chaperones will believe that I have been playing in the loch with the swans and sunning myself like an otter."
She bid them farewell, and jumped lightly down from the cave mouth to run back through the forest.
* * *
Emerging from the water inside the cove on the other side of the loch, she sluiced back her wet hair. Then she hurried to the fallen tree and reached under it.
Her gown was gone. She knelt to grope beneath the trunk, finding only old leaves. Rising to her feet, leaves and dirt clinging to her sopping chemise, she turned, confused, thinking she must have made a mistake.
"Looking for this?" a man asked.
Gasping, startled, she flung her arms over her breasts in the wet linen, and turned. Laurie stood amid the birches, her mulberry gown draped over one broad shoulder. Brother Eonan stood well behind him, a hand over his eyes.
Laurie turned. "Brother, if you think it a sin to see her thus, stay back. I mean to have a few words with the lass. My lady," Laurie went on as he strode toward her, "just where the devil have you been?" he finished impatiently.
Silently, she lashed out an arm for her clothing, and then covered herself hastily when he did not relinquish it.
Laurie put his hand on the gown. "This? You want this?"
She sodded, shivering, dripping, fuming.
"You will not have it until you and I talk some," he said. "Och, stay, do not flee from me. I have sisters and a wife. The sight of a wee wet lassie doesna fret me as it does poor Brother Eonan, there."
She backed away, eyeing him warily, arms crossed. He took a couple of steps toward her.
"It wounds me to my soul that you do not trust me," he said. "First you will not speak to me, then you steal away from my company, and now you think me a lecher."
She gulped and watched him, wishing she had not tried to fool him earlier. He was a strong man in a fierce temper, and suddenly she was not sure of him at all.
"Listen to me," he said sternly. "I see that look upon your face. I would never lust after my friend's own wife. Fine as you are, lassie, you are like a saint to me. Understand?"
Nodding with relief, she inched forward, then lunged to grab the hem of the gown.
He caught her arm firmly in his big hand. "Nae yet. Now tell me. Went for a swim, did you?" She nodded vigorously. "I saw you cross the loch and run into the trees on the other side. Where did you go?"
She shivered, growing colder in the shade of the trees despite the summer heat, and shrugged. Laurie let go of her hand.
"Questions require answers. You can speak, lass."
Juliana only scowled at him.
"You trust Gawain enough to talk to him," he said. "I have seen it. If you have secrets, I do not care to know them. But I am tender in my heart, and I hoped you would like me well enough to trust me too. Hey," he murmured, "remember I am a Scotsman. Doesna that count for something?"
A Scotsman who rode with English, she wanted to reply. But he was Gawain's friend, and she appreciated his gentleness with her now, and she was strongly tempted to trust him.
Silence rolled out. Birds twittered, the breeze rustled the leaves. Brother Eonan turned his back, clearly tired of holding his hands to his eyes.
"Tcha," Laurie said in exasperation, whipping the gown from his shoulder. "Take it before you catch an ague. Gawain would have my hide for that."
She snatched the gown. "Thank you, Sir Laurie," she said.
His sudden smile was bright, and he bowed. "Lady Juliana," he said gallantly, "You will not regret the faith you put in me." He turned to give her privacy.
She stepped behind the shelter of some trees, stripped out of her wet chemise, and pulled on the dry gown. She draped the linen over a tree limb to dry and walked back toward Laurie. He turned when she murmured his name.
"The Swan Maiden likes to swim, does she?" he asked as they walked companionably toward Eonan.
She nodded. "I love it."
"And what then, in the trees? Did you seek out the rebels to betray your husband and his duties here? I must ask that, you know." He frowned.
"I would not betray my husband," she answered carefully. "I have friends in the forest, but they are homeless people in need, good people. Not warriors or enemies."
"Ah. Harmless, are they."
"Oh, aye," she said.
"And all you did was play a bit with your wee swans?"
She drew a breath. "Swimming is something I have always done here. It feels like flying to me... it feels like freedom."
"Ah well," he said. "You do need more of that, I think. Mayhap you can go swimming—if your husband approves."
She tilted a brow. "And if he doesna?"
He pursed his lips, thinking. "I am a lazy man," he said. "I do not care to chase you about
the hills like a nursemaid when I can rest on the shore while you go splashing. Shall we have a pact between us? Trust me, and I will trust you." She smiled. "I would like that."
"Good. But do not get me into straits with the constable of Elladoune. He is not so mellow a man as I." He winked at her.
Chapter 22
Evening spilled amethyst color into the loch as Gawain rode back to Elladoune. Once again he scanned the dark shapes of the mountains reflected in the water. He had traveled the hills for hours, but had not yet seen the stark and craggy face he sought.
He had ridden to Dalbrae, too, having learned its location from the monks. The gatehouse guard had told him that Walter de Soulis had not returned from his journey; the Lindsay brothers were inside, but Gawain lacked official permission to see them.
With the rest of the day free, he had ridden over rough tracks, past greenwood, moors, lochans, and hillsides, moving toward the high mountains north of Elladoune. Beinn an Aodann was there somewhere, he was sure.
By the end of the day, he mistrusted the memory. He thought Glenshie lay north of Loch nan Eala, but he had been a boy when he had left. Perhaps he was wrong about the location.
Yet he could ask no one. No English knight would answer his inquiry without questioning it or reporting his interest. He could raise no suspicions, nor could he ask locally and risk revealing who he was.
His mother surely knew where it was, but he could not bring himself to mention Glenshie when he had been at Avenel. He had not confessed to her his lifelong dream of claiming his inheritance. Unable to remind her of something so painful, he had kept it close.
Regardless of today's disappointment, he had to find the castle. The need sat in his belly like a great stone. Shoulders slumping, he felt weary in spirit and body as Gringolet took him toward Elladoune's gate.
Susan King - [Celtic Nights 02] Page 20
