by Kate Forrest
Rolf agreed. The woman had to be Isobel Campbell, and the man appeared to be a warrior. They would handle him, if needed, and take the woman.
“I’ll see what room they’re in,” Watkin said.
“I’ll wait a few minutes and follow you.”
Watkin nodded and trailed after the couple; Rolf took a swig from his tankard of ale, biding his time.
Chapter 18
As soon as the door was closed to their small quarters, Alex tried to explain the chief’s interest in the Crusades.
Isobel didn’t let him get very far. “He was glorifying battle, Alex! It was disgraceful.”
“Maclean is a warrior, Isobel. He understands the purpose and cost of battle well enough.”
“His words did not show it.” Isobel paced back and forth in their room. “You should have said something.”
“We are guests, Isobel. We are not here to cause trouble for the chief in front of his clan.”
“Perhaps someone needs to tell him battles are not entertainment. Men died fighting for something they believed in. They do not deserve to be talked about as a ‘good kill.’ ”
“Did I discuss them in such a way? Nae. I did not. Nor will I ever.”
“I’m glad of it, but Maclean should be put in his place.”
“Someday he may be, but it won’t be by me, Isobel. He holds the eastern shores of Mull. I cannae go and create conflict with my neighbor—a neighbor my clan appeals to for safe haven on most journeys to the mainland.”
“Spoken like a weak man.”
Alex stood there briefly stunned, as Isobel lifted her chin and looked at him like he was nothing more than a scrap of meat.
“Nae, Isobel. Spoken like a man who is to be a chief one day. I understand the necessity of maintaining peace. I will not wage a war with a man over his views on battle. I am many things, but I am no fool and I am not weak.”
“If you do not stand up for your beliefs, then what are you, Alex?”
“Alive,” he said with sincerity. “Maclean is a powerful chief with powerful allies. I hold my beliefs, but I will not impress them on anyone outside my clan.”
“He makes sport of death, Alex. How can you keep silent?”
“Because I must,” he said, growing tired of the argument. He understood her anger. He was angry, but she had to understand why he didn’t confront Maclean.
She stopped pacing and looked at him. Perhaps she has finally calmed down enough to see my reasoning, Alex thought.
“You must do what you must, Alex. And I must do what I must.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that as soon as I have the nunnery in my sights, we will part ways.”
“Oh, aye, so you can go off on your own. Is that right?”
“Yes,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“How will you travel to Ireland? How will you find food and shelter?” Alex asked, challenging her.
Isobel shrugged. “I do not know, but I’ll do what I must to survive.”
“What do you know of surviving? You’ve lived your life at court.”
“I know the struggles of survival. I’ve done it before, and I will do it again,” she said.
“What are you talking of? Your life before you came to live with King David?”
“It’s none of your concern.”
“That’s the right of it, isn’t it? Nothing is my concern. I must not give a damn about anything.” Why doesn’t she want my protection? Why is she pushing me away? Alex didn’t understand.
“I never said that, but I cannot be your concern. You must let me go.”
“You don’t need to be on your own, Isobel. You have me.” He tried to be gentler. They were on the same side; she just couldn’t see it.
“Do I?” she asked.
“Of course. If you dinnae wish to be a nun, I can find a place for you among my clan.”
“A place for me?”
“Aye, I’m sure you would fill a niche.” He knew his people would welcome her. How could they not?
“I’m grateful to be sure, but I won’t be filling any niches for you, Alexander MacKinnon!”
“I didnae mean it in such a way. I would not dishonor you,” he explained.
“Then what, pray, would you have me do?”
Alex stood there with his mouth open. She was angry, and he needed to think quickly. What could she do? As he stood there trying to conjure a position for Isobel, he took in her appearance. Her cheeks, which had been sad and pale during the evening feast, were full of color. Her eyes were no longer dull. She looked fierce and alive. He then became aware of her deep breathing and their closeness. The room was small. Save for the straw mattress and a solitary chair, there was little space for anything else in the chamber but them. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. After a few deep breaths, he looked at her and found Isobel’s eyes were not just fierce and alive—they were on fire, but it wasn’t from passion. She was angry.
“ ’Tis nice to know you lust after me, but I won’t settle for being a poor crusader’s whore.”
The jab at his reduced circumstances made the lust disappear immediately. “Mary told you, did she?” Alex drew toward her, and Isobel quickly backed against the wall.
Isobel said nothing, but he’d seen Mary’s jealousy of Isobel when they’d arrived. The love of his youth was beautiful, but she could be cruel.
“Alex, I did not mean…” She held up her palms, as if to push him away.
“Aye, you did. You meant exactly what you said.” Alex pressed against her open palms, crowding her. “I may be poor, but at least I know my place in this world. Can you say the same?”
Now her cheeks were stained crimson with shame. At first, Alex felt satisfied. But then he saw the uncertainty in her eyes, and his anger dissipated. What am I to do with you? “What do you want from me, Isobel?”
“I do not know,” she whispered.
“I think you do.”
He cupped her face with his hands, lifting her chin upwards. He bent his head. Their eyes locked, but Alex hesitated. Then he felt Isobel’s hands reach up and wrap around his neck, pulling him down to her.
“Kiss me, Alex,” she whispered.
And he did.
Moments ago, Isobel had wanted to scream at him. He means to find a place for me? Fill a niche? He isn’t offering marriage. The jab at his state of poverty wasn’t intentional, but Isobel could not have controlled her anger if she wished it. Then he asked her what she wanted from him, and suddenly her arms were wrapped around his neck and she was asking to be kissed.
The warmth of his breath on her face sent chills of anticipation down her spine. She inhaled slowly to steady herself. Exhaling, she left her mouth parted, waiting for him. But he didn’t move.
He was giving her the chance to refuse him. Did she want him to stop? Her blood pounded in her ears, and her throat felt dry. No, I want him. She closed her eyes and tilted her face up. In the next instant, his mouth covered hers.
She responded, kissing him back hesitantly at first, then more assuredly when she heard him sigh in pleasure. Alex pressed her up against the wall.
At court, she’d shared a few stolen kisses with the son of one of David’s advisors. Those kisses, however, were very different from this one. This was hot and consuming. She never wanted it to end.
Alex knew there was a reason he needed to stop this madness, but with every sigh and moan that escaped Isobel’s lips, that reason slipped further away. He’d kept his hands against the wall beside her head—fighting the urge to touch her. The temptation to feel her body eventually won out, and he let his right hand slide down her side to the top of her thigh. He lifted Isobel’s leg and fitted himself against her. She wrapped her leg around his hip and moved against him. It was ecstasy.
Until the knock came. At first, Alex dismissed it. Someone was knocking on a room down the hall. But then the knocking became louder—more insistent. As if lifting his head above wate
r, the sound finally rang loud and clear.
Breaking the kiss, he held Isobel against him as he steadied his breathing. “Who is it?” he finally called. They were just a few feet from the door.
“The chief wishes to see ye in his solar,” a man said, his voice muffled by the barrier of the door. “He insists that ye come now.”
“Tell him I will be there in a moment.” After the footsteps retreated, Alex looked down at Isobel. She gazed up at him in bewilderment, as if she too didn’t understand what had overcome them.
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her on the forehead before stepping away.
“Isobel,” he began, unsure of what to say, “I didnae mean—”
“You should go,” she cut in. “It could be more news about the king.”
Christ. The king. Alex felt sick. Here she was mourning the man she looked up to as a father, and he’d just nearly taken her to bed. How could you be so callous?
“Isobel,” he said again, trying to take her hands, but she evaded him.
“Truly, Alex, you should see what the chief wants. We can talk when you get back. I’ll be here.” She smiled, but Alex didn’t take much comfort from it. She thinks I was taking advantage of her. If only I could explain. But what could he say? He was overcome with need and had to kiss her? Frustrated with his own weakness, he simply nodded and excused himself from the room.
Alex made his way through the great hall, where the evening meal was still underway. A guard directed him to the chief’s solar where Alex found the chief and several other Maclean men gathered around a table. There was also one man who had been absent at the evening meal: the chief’s son, Ewan. His childhood friend did not greet him though.
“Come,” said the chief, pointing to an open chair at his side.
Alex did as he was bid and sat down at the table. Everyone else sat when the chief nodded. All the men, save for Ewan, were older and appeared to be the chief’s counsel. He studied each man carefully, but none of the faces looking back at him gave Alex any sense of the meeting’s purpose. He took stock of the chief’s son. He had not seen Ewan in six long years. Looking at him now, Alex could tell his old friend was exhausted. Did something weigh on his mind? Perhaps he has been traveling. I probably look the same, Alex thought, feeling the ache in his arms from the afternoon of rowing.
“I spoke to yer father the summer last about his lands,” the chief began. “He was nae amenable to negotiating, but I thought ye might be.”
Alex was taken aback. What does the Maclean want with our lands? “You claim over half of the isle, Chief, and hold the gateway to the mainland. What land is it that you desire of the MacKinnons?”
“All of it,” he said simply.
“All?” Alex repeated in shock.
“Aye,” the chief said firmly. “In exchange, none of yer people will die.”
Alex felt his jaw tighten. It took everything he had to remain outwardly impassive. Inside, his blood boiled.
“I may want yer people to remain—however many are left—to continue to farm.”
However many are left? He didn’t understand. Have my clansman deserted?
“While they remain on my land, they will have my protection, and they will be allegiant to me.”
The chief’s offer was an insult, and it made Alex furious, but it also drew concern. What has happened since I left?
“My father and I will think on your offer, Chief,” Alex said, keeping his voice even and steady.
“I’ll expect a decision from ye both by the next full moon.” The Maclean reclined in his chair, tapping his fingers together. “Be wise, young MacKinnon. Since ye failed to bring home the wealthy Angus bride, this could be the only way to end yer clan’s suffering.”
With that, Alex was dismissed.
****
The door creaked open and Isobel’s stomach turned to knots. Alex is back. She kept her eyes shut, uncertain whether she wanted him to know she was awake. She’d tried to fall asleep after he left to see the chief, but their kissing had left her restless. His reaction to their intimacy also made her angry. He will call it a mistake, but I feel no regret. Learning about David’s passing had made her emotional, but she knew what she was doing. Alex wasn’t taking advantage of her, and she wasn’t taking advantage of him. She debated whether she should keep pretending to be asleep or if she should talk to him. She was curious to know what the chief wanted.
Resolved to speak with him, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and a foul odor filled her nose. It smelled like sweat and manure. Where in the heavens has he been? Feet shuffled on both sides of the bed. He’s not alone.
“Alex, what on earth?” Isobel opened her eyes and sat up in bed. Then her heart plummeted in her chest, for the man looking back at her was a stranger. Before she could react, she was struck on the back of the head, and her vision narrowed. Then everything went black.
****
Alex needed some fresh air. He ducked out the back entrance of the great hall, where the men still gathered in song and drink, and found a quiet spot in the bailey where the sounds of the keep were distant. He stayed outside for a long time, letting his mind and pulse completely calm. Passing back through the great hall, where now only a few Macleans sat in conversation, Alex overheard two men near the main entrance.
“I need to see the MacKinnon,” the man insisted.
“What’s this about?” Alex asked, as he approached.
“It’s me, MacKinnon. It’s MacDonald.”
“Robbie?” Alex jogged up to the door, knowing something was wrong. “What is it?”
He stood quiet, giving a pointed look to the guard blocking his entrance.
“Let him in,” Alex demanded.
The man moved aside, letting Robbie pass. They walked out of earshot of the guard, then Alex pressed him again. “What’s wrong, MacDonald?”
“Men are coming for you and Lady Isobel.”
“We expected this, but I thought it would take the bishop more time,” Alex said, not understanding.
“Aye, that’s what I thought. When I got back to Edinburgh, the bishop told me he’d sent another team after the Rood. I raced as fast as I could to get here, but I fear they have already arrived on Mull. A fisherman in Oban said he’d taken two men, and their horses, by boat to Duart just this afternoon.”
“You’re certain it’s the men the bishop sent?”
“Nae, I can’t be. But I have a feeling.”
Alex nodded. “Come,” he said, and Robbie followed him through the keep. He needed to check on Isobel. When they reached the landing, Alex’s heart caught in his chest.
“The door is open,” he said, as Robbie reached the final step.
Robbie unsheathed his sword, and Alex took out his knife; he’d left his sword and other weapons in the room when he’d gone down to meet with the chief. They carefully approached the door, which was pushed open a foot or so. Alex signaled to Robbie, preparing him for his next move. Robbie nodded. In the next moment, Alex kicked the door completely open and backed aside, allowing Robbie to charge the room.
Alex followed after him and searched the room for Isobel, but there was no sign of her.
“They’ve taken her,” Alex said. “Christ, how could I let this happen?”
“There’s no time for that, MacKinnon,” Robbie said. “How long were you gone?”
“A few hours.”
“Then they can’t be very far away,” Robbie said.
Alex searched the room and found Isobel’s cloak lying on the floor.
“If they only came for the Rood, why would they take her hostage?” Robbie asked.
“They don’t have the Rood,” Alex said, reaching down to pick up Isobel’s discarded cloak. The Rood was still tucked inside the hidden pocket of the garment. “It’s in here. Once they realize they aren’t in possession of it, they may kill her.”
“Or use her as ransom.” Robbie sheathed his sword. “They’ll know you still
have it. They’ll exchange her for the Rood.”
“Aye. Perhaps.”
“Do you trust the Maclean chief?”
“Not like I did before I knew he wanted my land,” Alex said. He gathered up his weapons, which thankfully hadn’t been stolen.
“Then I think you should take everything if you aren’t planning to return.”
Alex agreed and packed up all of his and Isobel’s possessions. When everything, including the Rood, was securely packed, the men quietly descended the stairwell. Alex didn’t want to deal with any Maclean warriors on the way out, so they kept to the shadows, skirting the great hall. They found the guard, from just minutes ago, already asleep at his post. Alex and Robbie snuck out into the bailey and headed for the stables.
They found Robbie’s horse, Coira, tethered just inside the stable doors.
“You’ll need a horse too,” Robbie said, untying Coira. “The merchant I came over with had that horse aboard his boat.” He nodded toward a white horse, near the back corner of the stable. “He was half drunk when our boat landed. I doubt he’ll be up too early to come looking for her.”
Alex jogged down to the end of the stable, looking around for a guard. Seeing no one in sight, Alex quickly tied his belongings to the horse and led her back toward Robbie.
“The stable lad won’t be back for a while. He checked me in, then got called away to help in the kitchens,” Robbie said, from his perch on Coira’s back.
Alex climbed atop the horse and gently nudged his heel into her side. She didn’t budge.
“Come on,” he said, nudging the horse again.
“I think her name is Honey,” Robbie offered. “Try that.”
“Are you serious?” Who the hell names a horse Honey?
Robbie just shrugged.
“Come on, Honey,” Alex said, and the horse trotted out of the stables. They rode to the wall that surrounded the perimeter. This time, the guards at the gate were wide awake and on patrol.
“What’s the play here?” Robbie asked.
“We’ll tell them we were following the party that just left a short while ago,” Alex said. “Perhaps they’ll even give us the direction they went.”
