Susan King - [Celtic Nights 03]

by The Sword Maiden

  "I knew that already. I rode a long way today, boy, and I am damned hungry. Your ferryman looked as if he would rather stick a dirk in me than row me anywhere, and I had to stable my horse on the mainland. You need a bridge and more boats, and a ferryman who knows his place."

  "Old Alpin suits us. And we have neither coin nor stone to build a bridge from the mainland to here," Simon said.

  "Nor the desire to do so," Eva added. "We have always stabled our horses on the mainland in the care of the smith, though he... our smith has gone to France to fight there." Her cheeks heated as she thought of Lachlann, gone months now with Margaret's two older brothers. "Until he returns, we go there each day to care for our animals."

  "Return? Your smith may well be dead," Colin said bluntly. "Have you heard nothing of the French war lately? Many Scots have died in their battles, along with thousands of Frenchmen. Their fight against the English is a devastating failure."

  "Ach Dhia," Eva said, flattening her palm upon her breastbone. She glanced at Simon, who frowned deeply. "I—we had not heard. There have been no messages since they left."

  "Then figure your smith dead with the rest," Colin said. "I hear that the French are so desperate now that they have put their faith in a young peasant girl. She now heads their royal army! Can you imagine!"

  "Girl?" Eva scarcely listened, her heart pounding. No one had received word from Lachlann or her cousins, but she could not imagine him gone. She would not. She would always imagine him strong and willing to return to her, until he did. She lifted her chin. "A girl? How can that be?"

  "Jehanne la Pucelle, they call her—Jehanne the Maid. She came to the dauphin—the heir to the throne—and said that God told her to save France." Colin laughed abruptly. "The dauphin gave her armor and set her at the head of his army. No wonder the French need help."

  "It does not seem odd to me," Eva said. "Our own legend says the warrior princess Aeife guarded the Sword of Light, and her female descendants are obligated to defend the isle."

  "You will never need to do such a thing. I will ensure Innisfarna's safety." Colin set his bowl aside. "Simon, why did you not go with your father and brother?"

  "I stayed here to protect my sister from wolves," Simon answered.

  "Oh, do they swim?" Colin asked, and chuckled at his wit.

  "Some take boats," Simon drawled.

  "Perhaps Colin has some news of the king's parliament in Inverness," Eva said, hoping to dispel the building tension.

  "That is not a parliament," Simon said. "It is a trap. I hear King James is jealous of the power of his Highland chiefs. Ever since his return from those years of custody with the English, I hear he wants to center the Scottish government around himself, like an English king."

  "You hear wrong," Colin replied calmly, sipping his wine.

  "The rumor is that the king will punish those who will not bow to his game. But we are not biddable like the English, or even the Lowlanders. If the king takes rights from our Highland chiefs, we will rebel. I will be with them. Make sure you report that to the king. I hear you are deep in his pocket."

  "I serve my king," Colin growled. "That is what you hear."

  "Simon, please," Eva said, disquieted by her brother's hostility. Simon had an affable nature except when righteous matters stirred him, and he greatly disliked Colin, arguing with their father against Eva's possible marriage with the man.

  Colin Campbell was of an age with their father, and held Strathlan Castle at the far distant end of Loch Fhionn, more than thirty miles away. As a powerful Campbell laird and a king's advisor, he had considerable influence, and a marriage alliance would promote and protect Clan Arthur. That point, of all her father's reasons, was hardest to argue against.

  "I have news," Colin said. "First, the king has appointed me to France as an ambassador."

  "Are you going to France, then?" Eva asked, surprised.

  "When do you leave?" Simon asked quickly.

  "Soon. We have an old alliance with France, and they need more troops and assistance. The post is an honor, of course. The Campbells have long been indispensable to the Stewart kings of Scotland." He smiled at Eva. "I would take Eva with me as my wife. Your father and I discussed the possibility weeks ago."

  Eva bristled. "I prefer to stay at Innisfarna. I will not leave my home."

  "Of course," Colin murmured. "Women should stay by their hearths." He held out his goblet for more wine.

  Eva took the cup again, filled it, handed it back. She dashed some into another goblet for herself out of sheer nervousness, sipping to mask her distress. French claret was sweet and heady, and she did not care for it. Nor did she care to think about living in France—or anywhere—with Colin.

  But Lachlann was in France, too. Eva took another hasty sip, but the wine's burn could not diminish memories of wild, passionate kisses, tender and secret under the dark of the moon—

  She gulped more wine, and coughed.

  "Six thousand Scots have gone over there in the last few years," Colin was telling Simon. "Some of them gain wealth and titles in France."

  "If they live," Simon said harshly. Eva caught her breath.

  "Take your chances and go there too. Give up that plaid for a suit of good steel. It would make a man of you."

  "I am a man," Simon growled. "A Highland man."

  "Simon and Donal are the chief's sons, and so are needed here in Argyll to help our father," Eva said.

  "I discussed Innisfarna with the king before he rode to Inverness. He approves of installing a garrison here to ensure military presence. They will arrive later this week."

  "A garrison?" Eva asked indignantly. "We do not want it."

  "We need no added protection here," Simon said.

  "Innisfarna has a strong location, yet it is overseen by a female, with one kinsman, a few servants, and no troops. I am appalled that your father never properly manned this place."

  "Innisfarna is not a military fortress," Eva said. "It is neutral in any dispute the crown may have."

  "Our father keeps other properties manned," Simon added.

  "This isle is part of a triangle of fortresses that can protect the Highlands. It must be fortified."

  "For your purposes," Eva said. "Not ours."

  "I wish only to protect you in your father's... absence," he said. Something in his expression sent a chill down her spine.

  "She has no need of it," Simon said, stepping forward.

  "You," Colin said, waving impatiently. "Out. I have heard enough of your insolence. I wish to speak to your sister alone."

  Eva hastened toward Simon, nearly tripping on Grainne, who scurried underfoot. She scooped up the little dog. "Take her outside," she pleaded, thrusting the terrier into his hands.

  "You will not marry that man if I can help it," Simon hissed. "No matter the good to the clan. Eva, I must ride out to Inverness immediately, to warn our father that Colin intends to take Innisfarna." He stepped into the corridor. "But I do not want to leave you here with him."

  "I can take care of myself. Please give my love to our father and Donal," she added.

  "Take care, Eva," he said, and walked away, cradling the pup in his arms. Eva closed the door and crossed the room.

  Colin handed her his goblet wordlessly. Seeing the flush in his cheeks and the glint in his blue eyes, she set the cup down. "That claret is new and strong," she said. "I will prepare you some watered, spiced wine. It will aid your digestion better than this." She capped the jug.

  "You will make a good wife. I feared that you might have too much of your brother's wildness—raised too loosely, you were. Though I like some spirit in a woman," he purred.

  Another chill went through her. She did not like being ,alone with Colin, who sometimes looked at her with a salacious glint in his eye. After the ecstasy of Lachlann's kisses, the mere thought of Colin's kiss was repulsive.

  He moved toward her, stumbling, and she realized that the drink had soaked into his blood. She stepped away. />
  "I apologize for Simon's rudeness," she said. "But I share his concerns." A sense of dread swept through her, heavy and dark. "Something frightens me about this meeting at Inverness. Can we not send a message to summon my kinsmen back home?"

  He frowned and came closer. "That is impossible now. I thought you might be anxious, so I came here to offer you my comfort." He smiled. "When I am laird of Innisfarna, I can offer more than that. I know you mince about saying you will not wed me, but I also know it is just your fiery spirit. I once told your father that I can be patient." He reached out to pat her arm.

  She stepped back. "This island can be held only by me, and you know it. My father honored our ancient agreement with the faeries when he married my mother. No doubt he told you that."

  "Faeries!" Colin looked sour. "The faery women of Innisfarna have led their men by the noses. I am not so weak."

  Anger surged in her. "If you cannot respect our legend, that is one more reason this place should never belong to you!"

  "Rule your temper. Passion in women belongs only in the bedchamber." He touched her arm, then drew her toward him with unyielding strength. "By God, you are a lovely creature. Dark, delicate, fiery. I hear there is faery blood in you. And I like it well," he breathed, leaning toward her. "Our sons will have a touch of it, and be fine young men."

  "You assume too much," she said.

  "With reason, as you shall see," he answered. "I came here to speak privately to you, but you may need some reassurance before we can proceed with the news I bring."

  "What—" she began to ask, but he moved closer, taking her face in his hand. She turned her head away, but he slid his lips over her mouth, pulling her against him with his other hand. His mouth was wine-sour and clumsy.

  "Stop." She struggled, but he tightened his hold.

  "Easy, now." He kissed her again.

  "Let me go!" Eva pushed at his chest, but his kiss and his hands grew rougher, despite her struggling. Then her lifted knee connected with the soft sac under his firmed groin.

  He grunted and let go, cursing while he clutched himself. "Your father deceived me! He said you were obedient and quiet. You are a she-wolf, and a frigid one, too. I was showing you my affection! What did you think? Rape?"

  "You touched me with a forceful hand," she said, though she felt some remorse; he looked pathetic now, and no threat.

  "Saints save me from ignorant virgins!" He straightened. "That is how loving begins between a man and a woman!"

  I am not ignorant about loving, she wanted to snap at him. "That is not the way to woo a woman."

  "I wooed my first bride before you were born," he grumbled. "My current leman does not object to bedsport. Why should you?"

  "Go to your mistress if you want games like that."

  "I suppose you want hand kissing and poetry," he groused.

  I want gentle passion in my bed, she thought. Tender hands upon me, and deep kisses in the dark—from a man who is not here and may never return. She lifted her chin. "All I want from you is the news you came to deliver."

  "Very well. I will not spare you, since you are determined to be a she-wolf." He rubbed his belly as if it still ached. "The truth is this—matters have gone poorly at Inverness."

  Her blood went cold. "What do you mean? You assured me—"

  "I assumed you would need assurance and comfort. But any woman who can knee a man in his stones can take hard news."

  Her heart slammed. "Has something happened to my kinsmen?"

  "The king has taught the Highland chiefs a lesson they will not soon forget. Iain and Donal have been arrested and accused, along with more than forty Highland chiefs, of treason."

  "What?" Eva stared, stunned. "They have not committed treason!" Her hand found the carved back of the chair and she grasped the solid wood with shaking fingers.

  "The Highland chiefs resisted the king's bid for a centralized Scotland, which would unite and benefit all of us. Many of the clan chiefs are unpredictable and ungovernable, and pose a danger to his plan. He must take a forceful position."

  "Where are my father and Donal now?" Her breath came fast.

  "They were in Inverness, but Donal was among those moved to Edinburgh. And twenty chiefs, including your father," he added grimly, "were sentenced to execution. I had a letter yesterday that reported most of those gone by now."

  Inwardly reeling, Eva stared at him. "Gone?"

  "Iain is dead, Eva." His voice softened, and he reached for her. She twisted away. "He was in the first group to be executed at Inverness a few days ago. The word is just getting out. The king acted swiftly and secretly in this matter."

  "Why did you wait until Simon left to tell me this?" she demanded. "He took the only boat to shore, and is riding hard to Inverness by now. Why did you wait?" Her limbs shook, her heart pounded. Suddenly she could barely think, scarcely breathe.

  "Simon is a hothead, and there is no reasoning with his sort. I decided to tell you first. He will discover in Inverness that he is outlawed and his father gone. When he returns—if he is not arrested—the garrison will be here to control him if he tries to rebel. I assume he will."

  "Outlawed?" she asked. Moments ago, she thought she would fall to her knees with the shock of the news, but now a strange, cold calm filled her, clarified her thoughts, kept her feet firm on the floor. "What do you mean?"

  "There is more news," he said. "Are you strong enough?"

  She nodded, feeling numb. "Tell me."

  "Clan Arthur is summarily dispossessed, with all lands and rights forfeited to the king."

  Blood rushed in her ears. She gripped the chair's rim. "Why?" she gasped.

  "The king has his reasons. Eva, you look pale," Colin murmured. He turned away, poured a cup of wine, offered it to her. She shook her head. "Listen to me. If you and I were already wed, I could have helped your father. You made a mistake, avoiding my suit, but it is not too late to save your kinsmen."

  "Ach Dhia," she moaned, feeling his reproach like another deep stab. "How could I have known?"

  "I have some influence with the king. I cannot help your father now—would God that I could-—but I can request a pardon for Donal, and the return of the rights. I am among the few who can whisper in the king's ear. But if I give you my promise, I must have yours in return."

  "My promise of marriage," she said woodenly.

  "That," he said, "and Innisfarna, without condition."

  She stared at him. "I cannot do that," she whispered.

  "Eva," he said sternly. "Your father died because of your stubbornness. Do not let your brother Donal die too."

  "Dear God, how can you say that to me?" She drew a breath. "And you know I cannot give Innisfarna to you. The legend—"

  "I know the legend, and it does not frighten me," he said curtly. "Marry me and give me this island, and you will save Donal, and Simon, and the rest of your kinsmen. They are all outlaws now, and I alone can help them."

  "Oh—please—give me time to think!" A sob filled her throat and she swallowed with effort.

  "Are you so coldhearted as to refuse to help them, just to keep one small island castle to yourself?" he murmured.

  "It is not that—it is—" But she hesitated, unable to tell him that she had waited, hoped, for Lachlann to return. In the midst of the storm that surrounded her now, that hope was gone with so much else, suddenly a remote, impossible dream. Colin had said she might never see Lachlann again.

  "You are greatly distressed. I may have been too harsh with you. Women are fragile creatures. Come here," he said, taking her wrist and pulling her toward him. He kissed her hand, kissed her brow, moist, lingering contacts that made her flinch.

  "Leave me be." She tried to turn away.

  He trapped her with heavy hands on her shoulders. "I must go to France soon, but first I want your betrothal promise before a priest. If you will not agree, I assure you that Donal will die the same death as your father. An awful death."

  "Stop," she moaned. "
Please stop. Give me time—"

  "And I will make sure," he went on, "that Simon is caught like a wolf and stripped of his skin. The garrison that will come here will be under my orders even while I am gone. Simon will not escape this fate, nor any of your outlawed kinsmen."

  "You cannot do this—"

  "Can I not?" He kissed her softly on the cheek. "There, our first pledge is made. Remember our agreement. Be my wife, give me this isle to safeguard for you, and your kinsmen will be snug and safe as bugs in the woodwork."

  She gasped, then nodded without looking at him. "I will marry you," she said. "But you can never have this island!"

  "Eva, you can save them all with this bargain. Or you can ensure that their Highland hearts are roasted and served on the king's charger. It is your choice." He smiled down at her, and she stepped back with a muffled sob.

  "I warn you to say nothing of our agreement to anyone. No one but you and I understand the importance of this, eh? Good," he said, when she was silent. "I will summon a priest to bind the betrothal tomorrow. While I am in France, you will be safe here in my absence, with the garrison." He paused. "I trust you have women to aid you, for you are pale and trembling."

  She locked her hands, lifted her head. "I have no women, and no need of any. I am fine. Leave me be."

  "Until later, then." He went to the door.

  Eva stood stone calm, as if she had been emptied of emotion. Slowly she sank into the chair by the hearth and stared into the fire, aware that her world, her hopes, her most cherished dreams had crumbled away.

  Chapter 4

  Aussy je croy, en bonne foy,

  Que les anges I'accompaignassent

  (So I believe, in good faith,

  That angels accompanied her)

  —Martin le Franc, Champion des dames, 1440

  Perth, Scotland

  September 1431

  "So there you are, MacKerron."

  Lachlann looked up. Alexander Beaton stood over him, wrapped in a cloak. The brisk evening air clung to its folds, refreshing in the close atmosphere of the crowded tavern.

  "Aleck," Lachlann said, masking his surprise with a casual glance, which triggered, in his left and injured field of vision, the flashes of light and shadow he could neither control nor predict. "Just over from France?"