Screaming, Fiona threw herself at him and raked his face with her nails, before the clansman could drag her off. Her wailing voice shrieked back curses of revenge as she was led away to her fate.
Chapter Thirteen
Alexander turned his back on the sight of his chamber door closing on Fiona's muffled curses. Disgust and anger at her betrayal ate at his soul. He thrust his clenched fists toward the heavens and cried out his rage at being played such a fool.
God in Heaven! He'd allowed his foolish heart to be taken in by Katherine's beauty and pretense of caring. Fie on all women! Hadn't even Fiona shown herself to be vile and deceitful? Even she, whom he'd known since childhood, held naught to truth and honor!
Gathering his targe and an extra plaid, he hurriedly looked about his chamber before he turned to leave. There, on the floor near the bed, was a dried sprig of heather. A vision of Katherine on their wedding day wearing a crown of heather assaulted him. How loving and understanding she had acted. Aye, an act it had been. By all the saints, he must rid himself of any tender feelings for the beautiful bitch he'd married. Aye, and for his treacherous brother. The thought of William cuckolding him with his wife consumed Alexander like a festering gut wound.
He touched the back of his hand to his face where droplets of blood congealed in the scratches. Curling his fingers into a tight fist, he swore. "By God, I will have my revenge!" Grabbing up his broadsword, he quickly sheathed it to his side. Then he jerked the door back, slamming it against the stone wall of his chamber as he ran out.
God, how would he bring himself to tell Da the truth of Katherine and William's treachery? No, he couldn't do that to him. He must think of some other tale to tell him of their disappearance and his reasons for seeking them out.
Turning a corner in the corridor, he found Ian deep in discussion with the man who'd led Fiona away. His plans to save his father the shameful knowledge melted on his lips.
The older man's face was mottled with apparent anger, its bright patches matching the red of his beard. He motioned the clansman to leave when Alexander approached. "God's blood, Alexander, what has taken control of you? I command you tell me! Were you so against the marriage and my wishes that you now have set our people one against the other over it? For what reason have you banished the lass Fiona from our clan?"
Ian raged on, his words filled with accusation and disbelief. "Damn it, where are your wife and brother? Have you set your wife aside as well or banished her to one of your distant holdings? And what of William? Did you send him to dispatch her as soon as her parents left? By God, 'tis dishonor you bring upon our clan!"
Alexander's fury rose like bitter bile in his chest, and he responded in kind, his words lashing out in contempt. "No, father, I am not the dishonorable one. I leave that distinction to my depraved brother and whore of a wife. I have learned they are lovers and conspired against us with Fiona's aid. Katherine and William have fled together and I will not rest till I have found them and sent their black hearts to Hell by my own hand!"
"What idiocy is this? I dinna believe it. You know your brother would ne'er set himself against you or bring such dishonor to our clan!"
"No. I know it not. I have seen what the beautiful Lady Katherine can do to a man's heart. Whether through love or treachery, William has done this evil deed. It doesn't matter by which means 'twas done. I will take my revenge when I find them. For past love of my brother, he will be dealt a quick fate. As to the witch I married, she will beg for death before I am through with her!"
Not waiting for a reply, he vaulted down the stairwell to his men's lodging on the lower floor of the keep. He burst through the doorway, startling a young man who dropped the sword he was polishing. "You, lad, call my men together. Tell them to arm for battle and make ready to leave the castle!" With that, he ran to the stable.
As he was packing his saddlebags, one of his men entered dressed in battle gear. "Lord Alexander, yer men are assembled in the courtyard. How many days' provisions should be packed? 'Twill take time to lay in stores for a siege."
"God's wrath, man. Don't question me like an old woman. I have no time to waste. Tell the men we leave now. We are Scots and fighting men. We'll take from the forests and streams whatever we need. As to the length of our journey, 'twill be as long as needs be, to rid this world of two deceitful traitors. Go tell my men to be ready or fear for their lives!"
Shock etched the man's face. "Aye," he shouted and hurried from the stable.
Fully armed and his horse saddled, Alexander glanced wretchedly about the stable. A wee voice deep within his soul cried out against what seemed to be and yearned for another answer. He shook his head to dispel the unmanly moment of weakness and strode out to join his waiting men. Mounting his stallion without a word or backward glance, he signaled his men to follow him. He galloped under the portcullis and out of the castle grounds, scattering castle folk and animals in his wake.
After riding for several hours, he and his men approached the crossroads between Perth and Ironwood. The thundering noise of approaching riders filled the air. Sensing treachery, Alexander ordered his men to form a mounted schiltrom and prepare to fight.
However, with sight of the approaching troop's banners, he called for his men to fall back. The brilliant black and gold banner of Laird Drummond alongside his own red and green carried by Malcolm, reassured him of the goodwill of the approaching riders.
Great clouds of dust arose as the two armies of men met at the crossroads. Against the backdrop of the setting sun, the dust clouds took on the red hue of the sky and seemed to portend a cloud of blood rising from a field of battle.
Both lords dismounted and walked toward each other. Laird Drummond spoke first. "Alexander. What do you here? When Malcolm found me and told me you had left for During Castle by yourself, I was fair surprised. Devon and I had made merry with wine and wenching and your man had a devil of a time convincing my befuddled brain aught was amiss. We mounted and followed, but you already had a day's ride behind you when we but started."
When Alexander didn't immediately respond, Drummond continued with a bemused look on his face. "From what Malcolm told me, I didna expect to see you away from your new wife so soon. Och, my arse has had enough riding for one day. Let us make camp and you can tell me why you left court alone and now ride with a small army away from your destination."
Nodding grimly, Alexander turned back to his men and called for them to dismount and set up camp.
Malcolm walked up and nodded. "Alexander, I am here to serve ye. I would have gladly traveled with ye and stand ready to follow yer orders."
Pleased by Malcolm and Davey's show of loyalty, Alexander clasped their forearms in greeting. "By the saints, old friends, 'twould have been far better had I stayed in befuddled ignorance at court with you. 'Tis a long and grievous tale which sickens me to relate. Malcolm, bring a stout keg of usquabae to carry us through the telling."
Around them, clansmen erected tents and lit campfires. Several men led horses off to be groomed and fed. But as one of Alexander's men attempted to lead Tursachan away, the animal pulled sharply against the reins. It threw back its head, snorted and rolled its eyes in wariness.
Drummond grinned at Alexander. "Some things never change. That black devil you ride will ne'er take to another's hand."
His friend's words brought back a flash of memory of Katherine smiling and feeding an apple to Tursachan, both at ease with the other. The memory burned into his heart as he thought of how he'd been betrayed by his beautiful wife. It seemed she had a way of winning even his stallion's trust. How she would pay for her treachery!
After eating a hastily prepared meal of rabbit and dry bannocks, Laird Drummond, Malcolm and Alexander stretched out before a fire. Davey and Malcolm waited for their friend and laird to reveal the story he had alluded to earlier.
Seeing their looks of expectancy, he threw a large stick onto the fire and drank deeply from his mug. "May the Lord curse me for a weak man, but
I felt no relief in leaving my wife on our wedding day as I had thought I would. In the few days we had together before we spoke our vows, I felt a great liking, nay, a fondness growing toward her for she seemed as kind and caring as she was beautiful."
He took another long drink and shrugged. "I began to ponder on the wisdom of my plan to leave for court and bide my time in order to accustom myself to the idea of being wed. But then…" A tight knot twisted in his gut at the memory of Katherine's unreasonable accusations. How dare that wanton whore think to accuse him! "Then the day before our wedding, she turned shrewish and questioned my actions like a skirling harridan. When I realized folk in the courtyard were listening as she let loose her temper and screamed at me, I became angry and decided to carry out my plans after all. By leaving right after the marriage vows had been spoken, I thought to teach her to tame her shrewish manner and sharp tongue."
A weak smile lessened Alexander's angry countenance for a fleeting moment before his lips set in a sullen line again. "I almost foundered when I looked at her in the chapel as we pledged our vows. She was so very beautiful but 'twas more than that. When I looked at her, everything I saw seemed honest and gentle."
He swallowed the remaining drink in his mug and held it out to Malcolm to refill. After taking another deep drink, he continued. "The rest you know of how we left and went to court. I tried to lose her memory while I was there, but it wouldn't leave me. When Devon questioned me about Katherine, I knew 'twas time to go back and make things aright. All through my return journey I thought of her. But when I arrived at During Castle, I found I had been made the greatest of fools."
Drummond looked up sharply. "What are you talking about?"
Alexander kicked a rock into the blazing fire and drank deeply again. The warmth of the usquabae eased the tightness in his throat. "When I didn't find my wife in our chamber, I sought her in the chapel. There, the priest told me she and William had left for Ironwood well over a fortnight earlier. I thought aught was amiss, so I questioned my father. He acknowledged their departure and spoke of his concern over receiving no word from them. When a wool merchant sent word of seeing signs of ambush on the road less than a day's ride from Ironwood, I feared greatly for their safety."
Alexander's jaw clenched and he sat silently staring into the blazing fire, lost in thought. His grip tightened on the mug turning his knuckles white. Then he belted back another swallow and spoke bitterly. "When I returned to my chamber to prepare to go in search of them, I learned the truth about Katherine and William. It seems while I was away, they lost no time in cuckolding me and have fled together! I have sworn to avenge myself on them and travel now to Ironwood. They will be repaid for their cursed treachery."
Obvious shock etched Drummond's face as he barked out his question. "What? Alexander, that canna be so! Think on it, mon. Surely 'tis no truth in what you've been led to believe. Who told you this?"
Malcolm nodded in agreement. "Aye, lad, this rings false. Who has spun this tale?"
Alexander shouted angrily, sickened by his memory of Fiona's reception of him. "It doesn't matter who told me. Only that I know the wrong has been done! At the morrow's first light, I ride with my men to Ironwood."
He turned a black look on his man-at-arms almost as if he expected disloyalty from him as his wife and brother had shown. "Malcolm, you swore an oath of allegiance to me years ago. Do you still stand loyal or no?"
Malcolm jumped to his feet and glowered back. "Ye have nay cause to question my honor! My word is my bond. I ride with ye even unto death." Angrily clapping his right hand to his sword, Malcolm turned and stomped away, his heavy tread trampling a few clumps of nearby heather.
Alexander looked back at his friend with a glare. "And you? Do you still stand with me as in the past?"
Drummond's harsh words cut through the thickening haze of alcohol and growing weariness. "Damn it, Alex, you are a great arse if you doubt the loyalty of Malcolm or myself. I know naught of this, but I will stand by you as we have always done, one for the other." He tossed his mug to the ground. "But you'd best leave off your swilling of usquabae and clear your head before we ride on the morrow. I have no wish to ride into battle with a bemused drunkard!" Kicking his mug out of the way, Drummond stalked off to his tent.
Guilt lashed at Alexander for doubting the two friends he'd known most of his life. And what of the merchant's tale? Did it have aught to do with Katherine and William? Were they alive and well? If so, and they were innocent, why had no one heard from them? Cursing, he hurled the usquabae keg away. Then he rolled across the ground away from the fire and curled his plaid around him. Despite the cold, he didn't seek the comfort of his tent with his men. He'd heard enough for one night.
What he needed was to be alone to think. Unfortunately, the crushed heather beneath his nose conjured up the memory of Katherine thanking him for sending her flowers on their wedding day. For the slightest moment he felt ashamed that he had been too anxious over Malcolm's return to think of doing so. Then realization dawned; William must have sent those flowers. Damn it. His brother hadn't even waited till he was gone.
**
The heavy mist and gray light of approaching dawn did nothing to ease the pounding in Alexander's head or the chill in his soul for the deed he vowed to do. He stood, found his legs none too steady and cursed his fate.
Malcolm, already dressed in the clothing of a warrior, came over to him with a steaming plate of haggis and a mug of watered wine. The smell of the strongly flavored meat set Alexander's stomach lurching. He shoved past his man-at-arms and stumbled away, retching.
Eventually his gut emptied and his head cleared enough to allow him to walk to a nearby stream to cool his burning face and throat. By God, he'd not felt this foul since he and Davey had hidden in the ale cellars as young lads and gotten soused on green ale.
Gritting his teeth, he dunked his head under the water's icy surface. The mountain stream came from high in the hills where snow was late to melt. The frigid water shocked his system awake as no food could have done. Shaking the cold water from his face, he returned to the campsite. Without a word, he mounted Tursachan and headed toward Castle Ironwood. Davey and Malcolm rode equally silent beside him as their troops fell in behind.
Even nature seemed to turn against him. Heavy wind and rain greatly slowed their progress. The stinging torrent slashed at the men's faces, arms, and legs. Even the swath of their great kilts pulled up to cover them couldn't provide much relief from the downpour.
After several miles, Drummond called out through the roar of the wind. "Alexander, we must find shelter. 'Twill do no good to push our mounts and ourselves so. Come, there is a cave ahead. We'll rest for a while and begin again when the storm lets up."
Although exhausted from his arduous journey to During Castle, and sleeping outside in the cold mist, Alexander shook his head. In stubborn silence, he urged his horse on. He could barely hear Malcolm's voice as he, too, called out against the tempest. "Dinna be a fool, lad. Ye'll drop from exhaustion long before ye get there."
Fury surged through Alexander's veins, temporarily filling him with energy. He turned in his saddle and shouted at his companions. "Stay behind and dry your sniveling noses. I need none of your help." With that, he dug his heels into Tursachan's sides and galloped ahead.
Drummond called out, "You great arse. 'Twould serve you right if we left you to your own fight." Then he turned to Malcolm. "Och, Hellfire. Let's go." He yelled to the men, and they spurred their horses forward.
**
Although the storm had ended, it was near dusk when they neared their destination. Drummond and Malcolm urged Alexander to make camp for a night's rest before proceeding, but he would have none of it. Leaving his men lagging behind, he spurred Tursachan into a gallop for the castle. The need to purge himself of the treachery dealt him by his wife and brother burned inside him like a fiery brand. Soon. Soon he would end his torment.
He glanced back as the distance widened between
him and his friends and saw Davey motion to Malcolm to leave the armed men behind and do their best to catch up with him before he entered the castle. He smiled grimly. Let them try. They wouldn't stop him.
Seeing the MacGregor and Drummond banners of the oncoming armies, guards on the castle walls opened the gates and raised the portcullis.
Alexander galloped past startled servants in the inner bailey and jerked to a sudden halt in front of the keep. He vaulted from the saddle, and wielding his broadsword, ran up the steps and into the keep. The corridor was empty allowing him unhampered entry to the great hall. His heart froze as he skidded into the room.
Dear God. There they were. They were both alive and unharmed! For the briefest of moments, relief swept over him that they had not fallen to harm as the wool merchant's words had implied. Then he noticed how Katherine sat on a stool drawn up close to William as he reclined leisurely on a cushioned bench. A small table with an ornate chessboard sat in front of them. Her laughter bubbled as she moved a piece and leaned close to whisper something to her companion, their heads bent near each other. …Like lovers.
'Twas more than Alexander could stand. Anger propelled him forward like a catapult. Brandishing his sword and shouting, he lunged at the small table with his heavy steel blade, sending it toppling to the floor. Chess pieces scattered at the startled couple's feet.
Katherine screamed. Her hand reached for William. Shock and fear filled their faces as they looked up in astonishment. Alexander's heart hardened at the sight. Aye, they were right to fear, but 'twould change nothing.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of William's men run toward him, his own sword raised in attack. Stepping to the side, he thrust the point of his blade to his brother's throat and shouted at the advancing man, "Drop your sword and stand back!"
As William's man did as he was ordered, Katherine rose from her chair. She shrieked at Alexander, "Sweet Mother of Christ. Alexander, stop! What madness is this?"
Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1) Page 17
