Undeniable Heart (Legend of the King's Guard Book 4)

by Kara Griffin

  “Please, have mercy. I cannot do as you ask. Let us be. I want to go home.” Dallis tried not to let her emotions take heed, but whimpers reached her chest and throat.

  “I cannot reward you, sweet bloom. You will remain until the entire guard is in my dungeon.” He waved a hand at a soldier. “Take her to the upper chamber. She is to be guarded until I send her forth again.”

  Dallis couldn’t cease weeping. All that she endured and she would continue to be his captive. She’d risked herself and Brodin for naught. And poor Gilroy was murdered before her very eyes. As they dragged her to the upper floor, Dallis realized she’d never be freed from Alnwick. She, her gran, and Flora would perish there. She should never have gone to fetch Brodin. Gilroy would still live if she hadn’t.

  All hope waned. Somehow, she swore she would find a way to kill the man. Percy would breathe his last and she’d gain their freedom even if she had to die to try.

  Chapter Five

  She is dead. I will strangle the breath from her.

  That was his first thought when he came to. Before Brodin opened his eyes, he assessed the pains swarming his body. The soldiers gave him a good thrashing. He rubbed his shoulder and moaned, and rolled onto his back. Once his eyes adjusted to the obscurity of the chamber, he surveyed his prison. Above and around him was nothing but stone. No windows adorned the small cell. The door had no opening either, but a large metal lock. Braced with thick straps of iron, the door wouldn’t give way.

  A stale odor permeated the place. He discerned the scents: blood, urine, excrement – death. With a groan, he closed his eyes and took a slow shallow breath not wishing to take in the foul odors of the dungeon. He couldn’t hear any sounds. It was deathly quiet.

  Brodin wasn’t certain how long he’d been out. It wouldn’t take long for his comrades to arrive. With hope, they were on the road and trailed him. He’d bide his time until they came. Fortunately, he’d sent Gilroy’s medallion and his location with one of Rohan’s lads. Gilroy. His chest tightened. The lad …

  Gilroy was killed, murdered in his presence. He envisioned the dagger being thrust into the lad’s throat and cringed. Brodin couldn’t get to him in time to save him. The lass would pay dearly for his death. Aye, she was as culpable as the lord. She had to know her cohort would kill the lad to get to him. Gilroy was brave and hadn’t given him away. He’d spoken only one word. Mayhap. Aye, she’d pay with her life for taking his.

  A throb in his head caused his stomach to twinge. Damnation, they’d given him a good pounding, judging by the large knot on his head. He gently rubbed it, suspecting it would take days for it to lessen. Brodin rolled to his knees and sat back on his haunches with his hands fisted on his thighs.

  He wished Dallis Buchanan was there in front of him for he’d make sure she understood what her deceit cost. He could’ve laughed for she thought by bringing him to Percy, she’d be given her freedom. Percy didn’t have a qualm about going back on his word to her. Good, he thought, at least that would suffice as repayment for her betrayal until he could get to her.

  Brodin would free the lass and then he’d make her life a living hell. Why had he trusted her? For years he’d guarded himself against devious women. Och, it took but one gaze from a bonny face to sway his reason. His caution fled with the bat of her pretty eyelashes, the sway of her curvaceous hips, and the supple crease of her sweet lips. He deserved what he got and wished the guards had given him more punishment. The beating didn’t allay his guilt or stupidity.

  For the next hour, he replayed the event in his head. Gilroy bravely tried not to give him away. The only reason he had was to save the lass. Why would he care about her? The Buchanan lass wept when Percy killed Gilroy. Had she cared for him? It mattered not now. Brodin sighed at the thought – if she hadn’t pleaded for him to come, Gilroy would still be alive.

  The door banged open and Percy entered with two soldiers.

  Brodin resisted the soldiers, but they forced him to stand.

  “Are you one of the Bruce’s renowned guard?” Percy stepped forward. “I must know the truth. The lad did not confirm it as I hoped he would.”

  Brodin pierced him with his gaze and wouldn’t speak a word.

  After a moment of silence, Percy scoffed. “There are ways to gain your words.” He turned and waved a soldier inside the cell.

  The soldier entered and set a table inside the doorway. He retreated and entered again with an armful of metal objects. The torture instruments clanged when he tossed them on the table top. In an effort to sway him, the executioner took his time in deliberately setting the items in place of their use. His eyes kept averted, and once he finished the task, he cleared his throat indicating he was ready.

  “You will answer my questions … and if not, I shall get to entertain my fine soldiers. I ask again, are you one of the Scottish king’s guard?” Percy stepped back and took a dagger from the table. He used it to rend his tunic and stripped it from his body.

  Brodin flinched when Percy took a two-inch strap and smacked his palm with it as he approached. He handed it to his soldier.

  “Let us see if we can loosen his lips. Five lashes.”

  Brodin’s arms were taken by another guard, and his hands tied to a rope which hung from the ceiling. The soldier began his task, and each slash of the leather strap stung and tore at his skin. But Brodin refused to be entertainment for these English curs. He growled low in his throat when the strap hit him. He closed his eyes and envisioned Gilroy staring at him right before his death.

  “I need to know for if I take your head to my king and you are not one of the guard, he will be displeased. If my king is displeased, I shall be displeased.” He twitched a finger. “Five more lashes. And don’t go easy on him. We shall get our answer.”

  As his punishment came, Percy leaned against the wall with a smug, satisfied look on his face. Brodin closed his eyes. He focused on her – Aye, the woman would pay for her deceit against Gilroy and him. He’d see to it.

  “Perhaps you care for Dallis Buchanan? No man can resist such beauty. You want to lie betwixt her legs as I have? Confess and I shall release her and allow her passage home.” Percy pulled away from the wall and approached.

  Brodin remained silent and motionless. He cared not if she was confined for the rest of her days. She lied about her relationship with the man. What did he care if she shared his bed? Hopefully, the act wasn’t one of passion but pain. Aye, that would have to suffice as repayment for now.

  Percy patted his shoulder. “She’s well worth the tumble. The woman adores me. She’ll do everything I say. If I tell her to end you, she shall. If I tell her to retrieve the rest of your comrades, she shall.”

  He hated the man’s touch on his skin and wanted to fling him away, but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Brodin lowered his gaze, breathing irefully and heavy. As soon as he got his hands on Dallis Buchanan, she’d breathe her last.

  Percy held out his hand and took a dagger from his soldier. Brodin wished he hadn’t been tied so tightly. He would’ve freed himself and had his fingers around the miscreant’s neck. The blade of the dagger caressed his chest, the coldness of it bringing about his alertness.

  “I can see why Dallis looked at you the way she did. Aye, she wants you. But she’ll not gain her heart’s desire. She is not meant for you. Besides, you have little time left in this world …” Percy gripped the dagger and pressed.

  The blade cut deeper forcing Brodin to shift. Warm blood slid down his chest from the slice. Still, he wouldn’t yell out and refused to give Percy the satisfaction. He growled low in his throat at the sting and pain and closed his eyes for a moment.

  “It matters not that you won’t speak. I will first remove your tongue and then remove the weight of your head from your shoulders. Your head will be taken to my king and likely set upon pikes in the tower square for all to witness your downfall. Your king’s guard’s legend has reached even Londontown. The townsfolk will be excited to view your head
.” He patted him encouragingly and grinned and held out his hand.

  Noises from above came. Brodin listened intently. Swords clashed, men screamed, shouts and bangs sounded. His comrades arrived and fortunately for him, just in time. It had to be them for it sounded as though the fief was being invaded.

  “I am one of Robert the Bruce’s guard.”

  Percy laughed. “You see, the threat of removing his tongue has loosened his lips.”

  “And so are they.” Brodin tossed his head toward the door, indicating the sounds coming from above. “I’d flee if I were you.”

  Percy’s brows scrunched as he too heard the melee. “Find out what the clamor is.”

  Two soldiers left the cell. Within seconds one returned. “We’ve been attacked, my lord. Abscond now before they come. They’re heathen barbarians from the north.” The soldier ran from the doorway.

  “Come back here you blighter. We need to defend Alnwick.” Percy dropped the heavy metal tool he’d taken from the executioner and disappeared through the door.

  Brodin pitched forward, the injury to his body finally weakening him. His wrists burned from the pull of the rope, but he would be patient. For long minutes he concentrated on the sounds coming from within the keep. The fracas came closer and hollers from guards nearby signaled his brethren were getting nearer. He opened his eyes and saw Liam’s face. He was never as happy to see his comrade.

  “In here,” Liam shouted. He used his sword to cut the rope hanging from the ceiling.

  Brodin fell to the stone and groaned.

  “You’re hurt. Be still.”

  He grabbed his shredded tunic and pressed it against his chest to abate the bleeding. The slice wasn’t too deep but stung and hurt like hell. “You came.”

  “Aye, we set out right away. When we got Gilroy’s medallion, we knew something was amiss. We came across James and his barbarians on the way. They’re happily disbanding the soldiers. Most of the English have run off probably for reinforcements. The keep is almost secure.”

  Brodin lay on his side, because his back pained him more than anything, and couldn’t catch his breath. “Gilroy. Dead. Her. Get her.” He heaved as the agony wracked him.

  Graeme, Heath, and James entered the small cell.

  “He’s not making sense,” Liam said as he glanced at their comrades. “He says Gilroy is dead and wants us to get someone …”

  “Nay? God Almighty, look at him. He’s been done in.” Graeme knelt beside him. “Brodin, are ye all right? Can you move?”

  He groaned in answer.

  “Come, let us get him out of this wretched place,” Heath said.

  James whistled. “Damnation, Brodin. You’re a mess, aye.” To the others, he said, “We’ll have to carry him. We might need to send for Gwenol when we reach the caves.”

  Brodin mumbled, “Aye.” He would give anything to have Gwenol tend to him. She was the most talented healer in the land and would put him to right in no time. “Gilroy’s dead.”

  Graeme pursed his lips but nodded. “Aye, we ken. You’ll need a healer. Let’s get you to safety first.”

  “Rest easy, my friend. I’ve got you.” Heath lifted him carefully and set him over his shoulder, cautiously avoiding touching his wounds. “I’ll get him to the horses. Come right away.”

  “Dallis … Dallis … The maiden … Get her,” Brodin said, practically groaning his words.

  Liam chuckled. “He must be besotted for he’s never called for a woman before.”

  Heath moved to the door first. “I’ll get him out of here. Do as he says and find the maiden named Dallis. He wants her for some reason and we shan’t disappoint him.”

  Liam and James nodded and set out on their search.

  Brodin tried to lift his head, but couldn’t. His vision blurred and his head thrashed. He fought against the call of stupor because he had to ensure they didn’t leave until the maiden was apprehended. “Dallis Buchanan,” he murmured before he closed his eyes and gave himself to the darkness.

  Chapter Six

  Darkness met her when she entered the chamber she was taken to. She stepped inside the dismal room and turned to peer at the door when it slammed closed. Her body gave way and she fell against the hard wooden door and wept. Hopelessness overwhelmed her and she couldn’t gain composure. A groan sounded across the expanse of the room. Dallis shuffled toward the sound and bumped into a table. The room brightened enough to see as her eyes adjusted and she grabbed a candle, hastily setting flame to it.

  Flora lay on the bedding thrashing about and her gran leaned over her making panicked noises. She rushed to their side. For all the despair she’d just witnessed, she didn’t have time for sorrow. Gently, she moved her gran aside and set her hand on Flora’s face.

  “What is it, Flora? Have you a malady?”

  “Bairn comes,” Gran said, her voice full of worry.

  She smoothed a hand over her maid’s cheek. “I’m here now. All will be well.” But Dallis didn’t know if that were so. She’d never assisted in a birthing before and had no knowledge to draw upon. Mothers had to have understanding, didn’t they? She sure as hell hoped so. With a glance to her gran, she silently pleaded for aid.

  Gran patted her shoulder and nodded.

  “Dallis!” Flora screamed and rolled in agony from side to side.

  “You must breathe. We all must breathe.” Dallis took a big gulp of air, but it didn’t help calm her.

  Gran pulled her from the bedside and sat next to Flora. She took her hand and said in muffled tones, “Push, lass, push.”

  Dallis lifted Flora’s frock to see if the babe was making its way out. There was too much blood to discern. She shuffled about the chamber searching for more candles, but there was only the one she had lit. The sole candle wasn’t enough to light the chamber, but she brought it closer to Flora hoping the light would help.

  “You can do this, Flora. Take slow breaths and push when you are ready.” Dallis had no idea if what she was saying was correct. She hoped to soothe her friend and wasn’t doing a fair job of it. She took the cloth her gran handed her and wiped Flora’s face.

  Flora wept and gripped the bedding. She mumbled regrets and horrid words of death. “I can’t do this, Mistress. Please, get it out. I want to die.”

  Dallis swallowed the huge lump in her throat and decided to be forceful. “You can do this. Now, fight through the pain. Push the bairn out, Flora. You’re going to be a mother soon.” She lifted the frock again, hoping to see progress and there, a small head peeked its way out. A frightened gasp came from her lips. She didn’t mean to let it slip and Flora leaned upward.

  “Oh, God Almighty.” Dallis huffed with fear. There was too much blood.

  “Attend to Flora,” her gran said and had to push her aside.

  Dallis rushed to the other side of the bed and took hold of Flora’s hand. She took part of the bedding and wiped Flora’s tear-streaked face. Her dear maid must have fainted for she fell back upon the bedding silent. She continued to wipe her and glanced back at her gran.

  The bairn wailed.

  “Flora?” She patted her cheek. “Flora, come. Don’t you want to see your bairn?”

  “A lad,” Gran said and wrapped the babe in a Buchanan tartan.

  The bairn let out a wail as lout as his momma had. Gran thrust the babe at her, and Dallis took him into her arms and held the tiny bundle.

  “Flora?”

  Gran reached out and placed a hand on Flora’s chest, and shook her head. “She’s gone now, lass, dead.”

  Dallis fell to her knees and held the babe tightly against her chest. She wept in sorrow at losing her friend. “This is my fault. I never should have brought her with us. I should have protected her from him. God forgive me.”

  Gran patted her shoulder. “Not your fault, lass.”

  Noise from the hall came and the door banged open. A large, rather mean-looking man stood in the doorway. He appeared discomfited by their appearance.

  �
��Are you Dallis, Dallis Buchanan?”

  She lowered her chin but didn’t reply. Gran slunk next to her and set her arm around her shoulder. Dallis suspected she was putting on a show of protection. Yet her frail gran couldn’t protect her from the muscular intruder.

  “Brodin sent me to get you. I’m his comrade Liam. We must go. The fief is being attacked.”

  “Who is attacking?” she dared to ask.

  He flashed a grin. “We are. The lord fled with his soldiers. He will return likely with reinforcements. We must go before he does so.”

  Dallis shook her head. “Nay, I cannot leave.”

  “I am not giving you a choice, lass.” He stepped into the room and scowled fiercely. “You will come with us because Brodin insisted.”

  She wasn’t one to lose composure, but the day’s events brought forth anger, heartache, and despair. “I am holding a newly born bairn. His mother is lying dead. I must put her rest. Oh god and the lad … Gilroy. I must lay him to rest as well. And … and Sir Percy won’t let us leave even though I risked my neck to bring the guard here. I deceived Brodin. He’ll detest me now. I have failed, failed at everything this day.” Dallis thrust the bairn into her gran’s arms and fell to the floorboards in a mass of sobs.

  The man stood there with his mouth agape.

  “Just leave us here. Go. Be gone.”

  The man turned and fled.

  Dallis was glad to see the last of him. She sniffled away her tears and tried to regain her composure. Gran helped her from the floor and drew her close. Her empathy helped to renew Dallis’ spirit. The shutters within her body lessened and she hastily wiped her face of the remnant of tears.

  “We must tend to flora and Gilroy before Sir Percy returns.” She settled the sleeping bairn next to his mother and sighed. “Poor Flora. The poor bairn. I know not how to care for the wee one.” She hoped her gran read the distress in her eyes because she didn’t know what she was saying.

  “I do.”