"But Hunter Castle is in Northumbria."
"Aye. In Crookham. Belonged to his wife's family. They were Norman/Saxon mix."
Squat eased himself around the keep's door and slowly made his way down the steps, his one ear stood at attention, listening to every word. The other flopped like it was too tired to bother. On the last step, the poor beast fell forward and was slow to pick himself up. When he approached Broccin, the man sidestepped. Sure enough, 'twas a wise move. Squat wobbled like a drunken chicken when he tried to lift his leg to pee. He shook his knobby gray head, planted all four legs firmly and leaned forward to piss like a bitch.
When he was done, Graemme squatted and picked him up, holding him beneath his front legs so he could look in the dog's face. He studied him a while and frowned, then held him to his chest.
"How long has he been like this?"
"I found him under Elyne's bed. A wine glass had been on the bedside table, but somehow he knocked it over. I'm afeared he drank all the spilled wine."
"And he's still drunk?"
"I'm afraid it had more than wine in it. I think there was also a light dose of a sleeping draught."
"What are ye doing for him?" Grunda came close and held the little dog's face to stare at it.
"I'm afeared to give him any elixir, since he is so small. Instead, Lady Ysabel and I have kept him walking. We make sure he drinks a lot of water and eats something every hour. We hope it will flush it from his body." Lady Joneta looked at Graemme cradling the dog like a baby and smiled.
"Um, Sir Graemme?" Grunda caught his attention.
"Aye."
"Perchance ye had best not hold him now. I will prepare something to ease his suffering. The pitiful beastie will be right in no time."
When Squat passed wind with the vigor of a warrior, before the noxious smell reached their nose, Graemme bent fast as lightning and put him on the grass. Just in time.
He straightened, and all the sympathy for the dog vanished from his face, leaving his features cold and forbidding.
"I came as promised but the girl has insulted me by ignoring her betrothal vows. I dinna plan to take this lightly. It isna a maiden's fear of marriage."
Graemme tried to keep his voice calm and soft, but even to him the words were harsh, angry. When he found Elyne, she would learn he was not a man she could trifle with as her other suitors had been. If she were here now, he'd take her by the scuff of the neck to a private room and whale the Hades out of her lovely buttocks!
His cock stirred. His hands remembered the feel of the wet flesh of her nether cheeks—perfectly formed, smooth and firm. He wanted to either kiss or nip her flesh there, but in his anger, the nip would probably leave teeth marks!
Magnus slapped his shoulder and brought him out of his abstracted musings.
"Come, brother, we will sit with Chief Broccin and piece this together. Between us all, we should come up with some idea of where she has hidden herself and why."
"Right, right," Chief Broccin seized on an end to the awkward meeting. He had feared the Highlanders would draw their broadswords and fight first afore thinking. "Come." He motioned not only the two brothers but their men with them.
They followed Broccin into the keep and up to his solar. Graemme was in no mood for small talk and only grunted if anyone plied him with inane questions.
Once the men entered the solar, Graemme took Grunda's hand and led her inside. Chief Broccin near slammed the door in the faces of Lady Joneta and Ysabel. He hastily filled his goblet with wine and shoved the pitcher and tray of goblets to the men seated around the table.
"Did she make any other attempt to leave Raptor in the past month?"
"Nay. She seemed anxious. She was unwilling to participate in the wedding plans."
"No more than anxious?" Magnus asked in a calm voice. It prompted Broccin to respond.
"Her usual nonsense about not being able to marry Sir Graemme because he intended to kill her."
"Kill her?!" Graemme slammed his goblet on the table and splashed wine on the top of his hand. He unconsciously licked it away. "How did she get such a flea-brained idea?"
"No real reason. Evidently, something frightens her about your standard."
"My standard?" Graemme's eyes widened. He looked down at his tunic where the seamstress had embroidered the black wolf leaping from a large rock. "Does she think I keep a pack of wolves?"
"Nay."
"Then why would she be afeared of a simple standard?"
Broccin squirmed on his chair, reluctant to answer. Graemme knew he wouldna get the truth from him. Without asking permission, he rose, threw the door wide and bellowed for Lady Joneta. He didn't have long to wait. She was in the first alcove to the left of the door.
"I wondered how long it would take you to realize my brother would wind his way around your questions."
"Please, Lady, enlighten me about my lady bride."
After he pulled an arm chair from before the fireplace and seated her at the head of the table, he noted Broccin bunching his brows, giving little shakes of his head and whatever means he could think of to signal her to silence.
The lady snorted. "Brother, don't be a fool. 'Tis best the boy knows afore the wedding than after when he finds her atop the turret roof."
"She's never been to such heights!"
"Nay, just every other strange place you could name."
"What are you talking about? Does she take to climbing? I know she likes to sit in trees, but high on the keep?" Graemme's eyes widened. "The demented girl could fall to her death with her adventures!"
"Not adventures. The results of her dreams." Lady Joneta went on to tell him of all Elyne's dreams and the strange places they found her when she awoke.
Graemme felt like he should put his fist below his chin to keep it from dropping after each telling of a dream.
"When did she first start having these 'foretelling' dreams?" Graemme wondered if she had been born with a curse or a gift. Or was the beautiful girl lacking in wits?
Before Chief Broccin could answer, Lady Joneta supplied the answer. "'Twas right after Ranald was sent to Kelso Abbey." She gave her brother a withering stare. "I think the horror of watching her brother hauled away in a cart like bloody refuse was too much for her young mind."
"Ye blame me for her crazy dreams?"
"If you must know the truth, Aye!" Lady Joneta slapped her hand on the table, surprising Broccin to silence.
"'Twas the shock of seeing ye thrash her favorite brother near to death then discard him." Grunda said. Her eyes looked like she was watching the actual beating, for she grimaced. "Ye told them he died, did ye not?" Her gaze bored into Broccin's eyes.
Broccin gave a jerky nod. Instead of rebuking Grunda, he looked frightened of the old woman.
"What happened just before I first arrived?" Graemme expected he knew the answer already.
Broccin shook himself and answered.
"The first night you came to Raptor? She knew you would come. She awoke on the ground and climbed the tree when she heard your footsteps. Ever since, she has been having night visions of a wolf bathing until all but the hair on his face was gone. The wolf threatened her in different ways. Chased and grabbed her then tried to kill her."
Graemme wondered if the surprise showed on his face, or if he had hid the shock. When Magnus squeezed his shoulder, he guessed not.
"And the night before she disappeared?" Grunda asked.
Lady Joneta told them.
"'Twas Squat who warned us. His barking brought us to the wall atop the corner tower. She stood between two merlons. Just as the guards reached her, she screamed you were pointing a sword of lightning at her and meant to strike her down. She shielded her eyes and lost her balance. One of the guards grabbed her around the waist, but she near pulled him over with her. They would have both fallen to their death had the other guards not grabbed his legs. They had a difficult time lifting them both back through the opening."
Graemme grou
nd his teeth together. How had the girl formed such a hatred for him? The night she came to his bed, she had been eager enough. She was wet and ready for him in a short time. How could anyone so afeared of a man be so eager to swive him?
"She will not go to places where there is family or friends. She hides where ye will not think to search for her." Grunda looked at Broccin and Joneta. "Ye have threatened her with something. What was it?"
"A convent!" Graemme broke in for them. "When she argued with ye about marrying me, ye threatened to remove my stones." He stopped to glare at Magnus, who tried to cover a laugh with a cough. "Afore ye were through cleaning my blood from yer blade, ye said ye'd have Domnall get coins to pay the sisters at Mary Magdalen to keep her there for the rest of her life. She was terrified. She knew ye meant it. Ye reminded her of the last time a child of yers sought to thwart ye."
"'Tis true, brother. I thought she would spew her dinner. She quieted when I reminded her Ranald would never permit it."
When they all gave him disgusted looks, Broccin looked shamed, probably for the first time in his life.
Grunda rose and walked around the room, her eyes vacant. Broccin jumped when she touched his shoulder then released it. She went to the open window and threw back her head. Anyone would think she was sniffing the breeze or enjoying the night air, but she waited quietly. She opened her eyes and stared to the south.
"We need not search further for her. She arrived at Mary Magdalen this night. I have no doubt she'll have a sound, dreamless sleep for she will feel safe." Grunda nodded her head.
"Why do ye think this, old woman?" Broccin's brows met as he asked. "'Tis the last place Elyne would go."
"And the last place ye would look. They recognized her. She asked for sanctuary saying Graemme of Clibrick means to murder her."
If Elyne had been with them, Graemme was so angry at the words he would be tempted to shake her until her brains became so scrambled they would turn to mush. Ha! If they weren't already.
"She will be safe there whilst ye decide what to do when ye go for her," Grunda added. "Stand so I may tell if ye have changed this day."
They could all go to Hades and back before Graemme married a woman who was so piss-brained she could think he'd do such a thing. He was ready to tell them so when he looked at Magnus. Magnus shook his head and murmured for him to humor the seer.
Graemme stood, rigid and straight. Anger streaked through his body like thunderbolts.
Grunda stared into his eyes. "Angry enough to kill. 'Tis not her, though, but the fool who mistreated his children."
Broccin spluttered, but Lady Joneta slapped his arm and told him to hush!
Graemme could swear he heard Grunda ask if he wanted to swive Elyne, but no sound came from her mouth. She chuckled and looked down. His cock had stirred to life. By Satan's bug-riddled navel, was she a witch who could control his cock?
Slowly, she walked around him, stopping at different spots as she had done to so many people. Did she read them by the set of their shoulders, the rigidity of their muscles? Mayhap she could see a person's aura? She took so long he began to fidget.
Finally, she surprised him. She faced him and put both hands on either side of his head. She held still a bit then ran her fingers through his hair. She smiled, dropped her hands and motioned for him to sit.
"Well, now. This lad will make a fine husband for the girl. If he uses his heart and handles her right, she will lose her fear that he will beat and discard her. She will think only of having his bairns suckling at her breast."
Graemme felt his tension ease at the picture her words created.
"I leave when the sun rises," he said.
"Nay. Ye are still angered because she broke her vow to be here. Bide for a day. Take only enough warriors for protection so ye may travel fast. Few men together will not look threatening." Grunda gazed at Broccin and studied him. "There is a small hunting lodge in the woods nearby surrounded by Scotch pine, Juniper and Birch trees. I saw there a man who has black hair and deep eyes. 'Twas Ranald's brother afore he died. He took women there to spend slow days of making love, eating and drinking. 'Twill be the perfect spot for Graemme to take Elyne."
"The wedding is less than a sennight." Broccin sounded impatient, though he looked like he didna dare turn his back to this ancient soothsayer.
"Pshh! It can wait for a few days. Cook enough food for yer guests to gorge on." Grunda dismissed his words like a mother would an annoying youngling.
"They come for a festive occasion. They'll not sit around and gorge themselves all day," Broccin snorted.
"Men find their days fly by with contests of feats of strength. They will be more than happy to drink and fight for an extra day or two. Plan some hunts. It makes them feel powerful to kill something. When Graemme returns with her, his bride will be tame and peaceful."
"A good plan. We leave in two days." Graemme stopped and stared at Grunda. "Ye are sure she can be found at this Magdalen Convent?"
"Aye. 'Tis the only place she could travel to in a short time with no baggage. And she trusts them to protect her. I will tend to the wee dog tonight. He will be his old self when ye make the journey. Seeing him will soothe her."
Graemme nodded and picked up his forgotten wine goblet and drank it down. As his stomach felt its warmth, he began to feel more confident.
"Wouldn't she be more soothed if we take you and Lady Joneta with us?"
"Are ye such a weakling ye must have women do yer work for ye?" Her voice was like thunder.
"Dinna call me a weakling, old woman, else ye will see how far ye can fly out yonder window. Without a broom!"
Graemme's voice roared. If he were on a battle field, his enemies would think twice about attacking him. He put his hands on his hips, his eyes shooting sparks of anger.
When Grunda cackled with laughter, he felt like a fool.
"Dinna be chicken-brained, lad. Were I a witch, I would pull ye with me and drop ye in the same pig sty where Elyne awakened one morn."
Broccin's eyes widened. "How came ye to know of that?"
"Same as I know where she is. I see things no other can." She shook her head at him. "Nay, I am not a witch as ye are thinking. Just a seer with many years of living."
Magnus grinned at her. "When Muriele first came to Kinbrace, Grunda laid a curse on all who would do harm to Muriele. 'Twas so dire, men went around checking their tarse at every chance, afeared it would shrivel to a thin nub and fall off."
"Huh! Elyne must have taken lessons from her!" Graemme scowled at the old woman. He shook himself and forced his face to hide his anger. "We will take only ten men so we will not frighten the good sisters."
"Ranald has a man from Kelso Abbey who tends the gardens at the convent. Now Muriele is no longer there, he still comes weekly. Likely, with Elyne there, he will challenge your right to enter." Broccin rubbed his belly and burped. Wine fumes wafted through the air.
"A monk willna keep me from bringing Elyne out."
"So you think. This is no usual monk, no more than Ranald was. A crusader who tired of killing. This Brother Octavius can snap a man's neck with his hands and not break a sweat," Broccin supplied.
"Then we shall make sure he never has the opportunity to have his hands on us."
"'Twould be better if I give ye a missive stating she is yer betrothed and Ranald agrees to the wedding. They willna argue with his choice of husband for Elyne."
Graemme nodded.
Lady Joneta stood and got their attention. "We will show you to your quarters. The men who came with you before and your warriors will sleep in the men's tower. Graemme and Magnus will take Ranald's bedchamber. Grunda can share a room with me. Take time to refresh yourselves. Dinner will be at dusk." She looked toward the window opening and sighed. "'Tis near upon us."
"Ye will need yer rest, for ye may have a small fight wresting Elyne from the convent," Grunda said.
"A small fight?" Graemme looked at her and quirked his brow.
"Aye. She will not leave through the gate. Ye and Sir Magnus must stand close to the castle walls and be vigilant." She twisted her head to the side and looked him up and down.
"Old woman, ye have studied every inch of me. For what do ye search?"
"Are ye good at catching things hurtling toward ye?"
"Aye. We played at tossing a blacksmith's hammer when we were lads."
"This will be heavier than ye are used to. Brace yerself when the time comes."
Grunda cackled with laughter as she left the room.
Chapter 15
Three days later, it was near dawn when Gramme and the men rode across the clearing between the convent and the surrounding forests. The entrance gate of the convent faced east. With the sun rising behind the men, it flashed on someone standing on the gateway battlements.
"Magnus? Is that a guard atop the left gatehouse tower?"
Creases formed between Graemme's brows as he squinted at the Convent of Mary Magdalen from atop his great horse.
"Hm. If it is, he doesna have his hair clipped and tonsured. Nor does he wear a robe with a cowl over his head like most."
The sun rose a slight bit higher and seemed to focus its strength on the person's head. Did he really see auburn fire flashing off hair? He kicked his horse into a gallop. On seeing the fear in Graemme's face, Magnus spurred his own mount. The rest followed as quickly.
"By Lucifer's crossed eyes! She must be as beetle-brained as a molding acorn," he shouted to his brother. "If my eyes dinna deceive me, Elyne is standing on the edge of the tower!"
"Slow to a walk when we draw near. We dinna want to startle her," Magnus cautioned him.
"Ye are right. Half way there, he slowed his horse to a walk and prayed his bride didn't panic when she saw them. She seemed puzzled as she studied their approach. She might not be able to see them clearly with the sun in her eyes, but they sure as Hades could see her! She wore naught but a thin shift, her form outlined by the first golden streaks of dawn.
They approached the gate slowly as Graemme spoke to Magnus, his voice so furious the words near hissed between his teeth.
"Am I so horrid to look upon that my bride would try to kill herself rather than bear the burden of the marriage bed with me?'
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