Circle of Honor

by Carol Umberger

  Adam stepped back, careful to keep his hand away from his weapon. “I kept her safe until I could be certain just who was waiting here in the fog. There are those who would harm her.”

  Daron dropped his hand to his side. “Perhaps I was hasty in my conclusions, sir.” He shifted his weight. “Have her brought to me and we’ll be gone.”

  “There has been a change of plans.”

  Daron shook his head. “You needn’t concern yourself, Mackintosh.”

  Adam heard the derision in Daron’s voice, and his own temper raised a notch. He baited the man. “You’d best remember who holds the upper hand. I’d just as soon turn you both over for the ransom.” He would not do this, but Daron didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

  Daron’s eyes blazed, but in a remarkable show of discipline, he acquiesced. “Then you know who she is.”

  “Aye. Tell me, how did your lady come to be captured by Leod Macpherson in the first place?”

  Daron shifted his weight again, and his gaze dropped momentarily. When he resumed eye contact, the pain reflected in his eyes revealed his despair at failing his kinswoman. “We were set upon— my men were tired and hungry. ’Tis no excuse, but,” he touched his scar, “when I was wounded, Gwenyth was taken before my men could rally behind my second in command.” He studied Adam. “Your message said she is well. How fairs my lady, truly?”

  “She is well, but . . .” Adam hated to say the words, but Daron must be made aware of the danger and come to see Adam as her best protection from the wrath of King Robert. “She was violated and beaten.”

  Daron swayed, clearly stunned. His face turned white, and he stumbled away from Adam. Adam fought the urge to tend the lad as the sounds of retching echoed in the foggy air. Best to let him regain his composure on his own.

  Several minutes passed. Adam could only imagine Daron’s thoughts; how would he feel in the other man’s place? Anger, frustration, a desire to strike back. Not unlike Adam’s own feelings, only much more intense, for Daron would no doubt blame himself.

  Daron returned, ashen-faced, his visage murderous. “Who is the man?”

  Adam made a note to remember this was a warrior, loyal to another king and heretofore an enemy. And a man who’d just learned that his kinswoman had been raped because he hadn’t protected her.

  “I have no proof, but when I do, he’ll be punished, I promise.”

  “If I don’t find him first.” The young man clenched and unclenched his fists. The blaze in his eyes matched the fire of his hair, and Adam realized that a powerful force stood before him. Daron Comyn made a formidable enemy, and he might well make just as fierce an ally.

  Their gazes met, and Adam said, “How will you accomplish your revenge as a broken man, without the sanction of a laird?”

  “I am sworn to Lady Gwenyth. Her welfare is my responsibility, and I will not rest until the man is dead.” His expression revealed his anguish at having failed his duty.

  Adam shared Daron’s determination to punish the rapist and to keep Gwenyth safe from further harm. Honor demanded it. Honor and emotions he didn’t care to explore. “I, too, am pledged to her. Lady Gwenyth is my wife.”

  Daron visibly reeled at this second blow. “Your wife?”

  “Aye, she accused me of the assault, falsely, as she will readily admit, in order to escape Leod MacPherson’s keep. We were forced to wed.”

  Daron shook his head, as if he hadn’t heard right. “Forced to wed. This is all my fault.” Daron rubbed his forehead as if to massage away pain. “Why are you telling me these things, and not Gwenyth?”

  “Because she would not have, in order to be gone.” Somehow, Gwenyth’s rejection of him had lost its sting. Especially now that he understood her reasons. He didn’t like her reasons; but loyalty, even when misplaced, he could admire.

  “She would leave her wedded husband? What have you done to her to make her flee?”

  “Nothing. We are handfasted, Daron. I would have set her free, planned to do so.”

  Daron stroked his chin. “Until you learned she is Gwenyth Comyn.”

  “Aye.”

  Again Daron grew thoughtful. “Handfast or no, you accept her as wife?”

  Did he? The truth was, until two days ago he’d been agreeable. More than agreeable. “I might have, had she been willing.” And less deceitful.

  “Ah. You have not . . . you haven’t . . . but of course . . .”

  “The handfast is not truly binding, Daron, if that’s what’s troubling you. She does not welcome me to her chamber.”

  “And you’ve not been there, welcome or no.”

  Adam had the feeling he’d passed some sort of test as they gazed at each other in silent understanding.

  Once again Daron spoke first. “You have feelings for her.”

  It was a statement, not a question.

  “No more than for any creature in need of healing.” Lies.

  Daron’s face clearly marked his disbelief. “I would not like to come between husband and wife.”

  “But you are pledged to her.”

  “Aye. But I would see her safe, and she is safer with you, Laird Mackintosh.”

  “How so? A few minutes ago you were demanding I turn her over to you.”

  “A few minutes ago I had no idea what she’d suffered already, or what was known. Think what might befall her once her identity is discovered.”

  “I have thought of it.”

  “There are factions that want to use Gwenyth for their own purposes.” Daron brushed a hand wearily across his face and ended by touching the still healing wound at his temple. “What you have told me about Gwenyth . . .” Daron’s voice failed him, and it took a moment to regain control. “Since Bruce’s rampage through Buchan we have hidden and lived like criminals.”

  “Aye, my king has been harsh with your clan.”

  “That he has. Yet he has also united the highlands as no man has done before. He’s even managed to subdue the earl of Ross. I don’t believe there is a man alive who can wrest the throne from him.”

  “But some would try.”

  “Aye, they would. And they would use Gwenyth to further their cause. But all they will succeed in accomplishing is to weaken Scotland and give the English reason to invade yet again. I have supported Gwenyth’s desire to make a new life in England, if it would bring her the peace she craves. But it won’t. She will live to see her children used as an excuse for further war and bloodshed.”

  Adam began to see where Daron’s thoughts were headed. “Who is your enemy, Daron?”

  Daron spoke quietly. “A good question for every Scot to ask himself. Is it a Scottish king with the strength to keep us free, or the English who would deprive us of our right to self-government?”

  Adam nodded. “You would give your allegiance to Bruce?”

  “My allegiance is first and always to Scotland. And I have my own doubts about Balliol’s ability to wrest the throne from Bruce, even with my cousin as his wife. Gwenyth would lose; we all would lose.”

  They studied each other. A man whose loyalty lay with his countrymen and not the figurehead who led them was a man to be trusted. Still, there was bad blood between Scotland’s king and Daron Comyn’s clan.

  Adam scratched his head and decided to push again. “So, you would serve Robert the Bruce?”

  Daron hesitated then answered. “Perhaps.” Daron turned and whistled. Three men as bedraggled-looking as Daron materialized out of the fog.

  Adam inclined his head toward them and asked, “Then will you all come willingly to Moy?”

  Daron didn’t get a chance to answer as a loud bird call pierced the air and one of Adam’s sentries burst into the clearing. “Leod Macpherson comes, my laird.”

  Adam ordered Daron, “Tell your men to put down their weapons.”

  “What?”

  “No time, Daron. Just do it.” He would soon see if Daron could be trusted.

  Quickly, Adam moved among his own men, giving the order to
take Daron’s men prisoner while Daron ordered his warriors to surrender.

  “Aye, but stay close to your weapons,” Adam warned.

  Now Daron smiled, and Adam grinned back. He was beginning to like this cousin of Gwenyth’s. Daron assumed a pose of surrender, and Adam gave an order for Leod’s benefit. Then he strode to face his nemesis.

  A dozen warriors accompanied Leod into the clearing. He halted his stallion and surveyed the group before him. Adam and his guards came forward, pushing Daron in front of them.

  Leod leaned over his pommel and addressed Daron. “Well, who have we here?”

  “Daron Comyn of Ruthven. I caught them raiding cattle.”

  Leod casually stroked his horse’s neck. “And what will you do with him?”

  “Didn’t you know there’s a price on his head?”

  “I’d heard something of the sort.” Leod shifted in his saddle. “You’ll have to take him south to collect.”

  “Perhaps I’ll have you do that for me.”

  “You’d like to see me gone, no doubt.” Flicking the reins lightly on his leg, Leod glared at Adam. “Don’t send me on your trifling errands.”

  “I remind you who is laird and who is vassal, Leod.” Adam’s voice betrayed his growing anger.

  “But for how long? You’ve not been overly anxious to defend your title, Adam. Do you truly wish to be laird, or are you just playing at it?”

  Adam scowled at his enemy, for Leod was more an enemy than Daron or any of Daron’s men. He held his tongue, fearing what his thoughts might reveal about his turmoil.

  Leod went to the heart of it. “You will have to fight me, Adam. Hand to hand, sooner or later. And if you best me, I will acknowledge you as my laird. Until then, I’ll continue to challenge you, and to convince others that I am the rightful laird.”

  There, it was said, the thing Adam dreaded. For a moment his rage nearly overcame good judgment and he came close to challenging Leod to fight on the spot. Have it over and done. But wisdom prevailed at a surreptitious touch to his elbow from Morogh.

  Adam released a breath and sought to diffuse the tension. “Aye, Leod. It will come to that. And you’ll learn that day who is the rightful laird. Me.” Adam sounded far more confident than he felt.

  “We shall see. Good day to you.” Leod jerked his mount’s mouth and retreated.

  Daron stood beside Adam. “I don’t trust that one. It was in his keep that Gwenyth was harmed?”

  “Aye. But do you trust me?”

  “For now it seems the wisest course. I am firm in my resolve to avenge Gwenyth. Besides, there’s a price on my head, and I’ve no desire to meet Robert the Bruce so that Leod can line his pocket.” He studied Adam for a moment. “I find it hard to believe Gwenyth would bind herself to the man who injured her.”

  “I did not harm her.” I only kissed her.

  Glad that Daron was persuaded to come peacefully, Adam gave the order to return to Moy. Morogh signaled the others to join them, and Adam led his mount so he could walk with Daron. Motioning his men in the opposite direction from Leod, Adam watched as they herded the Comyn men toward Moy, maintaining the pretense of capture in case Leod had posted spies.

  The younger man spoke first. “If I were not certain you wouldn’t harm her, we would not be discussing an alliance,” Daron said softly.

  “You are willing to swear allegiance to me? All of you?”

  Daron nodded. “I will talk to the others, but aye. We are all sworn to the lady.”

  “And you’ll follow my lead in seeking your revenge?”

  “As laird, you must punish the man, so our goals coincide. And I give my word to uphold you as my laird and to fight in your defense.”

  “Good. We are agreed.”

  As they walked, the fog began to clear although a light mist still fell. Adam absently massaged his shoulder, which always stiffened in the dampness.

  “One question, Laird Mackintosh. Won’t Leod use my loyalty against you?”

  “Aye, Leod will do whatever it takes to oust me, Daron. Trying to outmaneuver him is a waste of time.”

  Assured of Daron’s intentions, Adam stopped to tighten the cinch on his saddle, then mounted for the remainder of the journey. It wouldn’t look right to approach the castle on foot with men who were supposedly prisoners.

  A short time later a shout of dismay was heard from the castle guard until Adam signaled to them that all was well. The Comyns and Mackintoshes entered the bailey together.

  Adam called Morogh to his side. “See to their lodging. And from the looks of them, they could use a good meal. We shall continue to treat them as captives for the time being.”

  “What of their weapons?”

  “Have them repaired and ready, but don’t allow Daron’s men to carry them just yet.”

  “Aye. I’ll see to it.”

  The castle folk surrounded them when they entered the bailey. “Go back to your work,” Adam ordered. “I have given these men sanctuary. Do not give me cause to be embarrassed by your lack of hospitality.” The folk dispersed, curious but obedient.

  “Daron, get yourself something to eat. I’ll send for you.”

  “Aye, my laird. But first I’d like to see Gwenyth.”

  FIFTEEN

  GWENYTH RUSHED ACROSS the inner bailey toward them, and Adam watched as the two embraced: Gwenyth with obvious exuberance, Daron somewhat hesitant. He handled her as if she were fragile glass, crooning, “The fault is mine, lass.”

  Gwenyth stiffened, her heated gaze accusing as she pulled away and turned on Adam. “You told him.”

  He nodded.

  “Aye, your husband has told me of your trials, my lady,” Daron said.

  She faced Daron, hands on hips. “What’s done is done. I only want to leave this wretched place.”

  Apparently she still saw Daron as her rescuer, despite the fact Adam had clearly told her she and her cousin would not be departing. Adam cleared his throat. “Perhaps it would be best if I allowed you and your cousin to speak privately.”

  “Aye, perhaps you should, Laird Mackintosh.” Her voice was a whisper, but that did nothing to take away the sting of her dismissal. He hardened his heart—she could not leave Moy or Scotland, and he dared not allow his misplaced feelings for her any room to grow.

  He turned away, but Daron stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Adam winced but did not turn around.

  “Stay, my laird.” Daron turned Adam around, and their gazes met and held. “There is more you should know.”

  THE APPARENT ACCORD between the two men surprised Gwenyth, but Daron’s next words surprised her even more. “Your husband seems to care for you.”

  He cared for her? She shook off the warmth that thought brought. Of course he cared, which was one of the reasons she and Daron had to leave. Today. She must make it clear that she was well and strong and ready to go forward. “My husband?”

  “Mackintosh says you are wed.”

  “We are handfast, but I don’t consider the tie binding and neither does he.” She glared in Adam’s direction.

  Daron answered. “Gwenyth, we cannot find passage—by now the word is spreading of your whereabouts, and the secrecy of our movements is gone. I doubt we could find a ship’s captain willing to transport you. And the risk in attempting it is too great.”

  “Surely King Robert doesn’t hate me so much?” But she knew better. The devastation of her home and family were more than adequate testament to Bruce’s animosity toward the Comyn clan. A sense of doom crept over her.

  “Perhaps not. But he has placed a ransom on your head, and his followers may well be tempted to collect it.”

  With his face in profile to her, Daron’s wound became visible. She touched it and he winced. “Oh, Daron. You were hurt.”

  He pushed her hand away. “ ’Twas nothing, Gwenyth. I am quite recovered.”

  Obviously, he didn’t want to talk about it. She had seen the look that passed between Daron and Adam, and she feared it
did not bode well for her plans.

  Laying her hand on Daron’s arm, she attempted to move toward his men, who were entering the keep behind them. “I want to leave this accursed place, Daron. Now.”

  “You will remain with your husband.”

  “Nay.” She fought to hold her emotions in check. And much was at stake. Edward and safety. A home in England, safe from Robert the Bruce. Daron didn’t answer, his demeanor stubborn, and she called on the last of her patience. “You are sworn to me, Daron. Why will you not obey my wishes?”

  “I cannot put you in further jeopardy, my lady.” Clearly it pained him to deny her, yet deny her he did. “And a husband’s right supersedes my own oath to you.” Setting his gaze on Adam, he motioned him to join them.

  “Nay,” she cried.

  “Aye, Gwenyth.” Daron’s voice held the sharpness of command, one he had never used on her before. He was barely a year older, and until now had always treated her more as a friend than as a responsibility. But it would seem their roles had changed.

  Ignoring her, Daron addressed Adam. “You are her husband. As her sworn man, I offer myself to your service.” Daron stared at her before continuing. “I have learned that you are to marry John Balliol’s heir to strengthen his claim to the crown. Is this true?”

  Defiantly, she answered, “Aye.”

  A glance passed between the two men, and again Gwenyth feared what it meant.

  Adam spoke, his voice harsh. “You know that I can’t allow that, my lady.”

  “Nor will I, Gwenyth.”

  Daron’s agreement surprised and angered her. “Why did you tell him this? Why, Daron? You are sworn to me.”

  “Edward Balliol would use you with no thought to anything but his own purpose. You won’t be safe with him, Gwenyth.”

  “Come, Daron. You exaggerate. Your lady mother assured me in her last letter that I will be welcomed at court.”

  “And married off,” he said, voice rising with heat, “and bred with an heir to the Scottish crown just as quick as can be arranged.”

  In desperation she shouted back. “Isn’t that what we want, Daron? To bring down Bruce?”

  Daron huffed a breath before replying. “What I want, my lady, is your health and happiness. And Scotland’s freedom.”