Highlander's Embrace

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Highlander's Embrace Page 9

by Amy Isan


  “Ye let me win, there was no way I could have otherwise.”

  “Aye,” he said. Gavin gave her a forlorn look. Her mood was feisty, but he wasn’t quite sure he could distract himself from the journey. He hoped Alec was still okay. “Can you blame me?”

  Another hill and another view of the castle. The gates were nearly visible, and it was only late afternoon. Gavin was sure they would only make it right before sunset and couldn’t account for the speed in which they had traveled from Eilean Donan Castle to Castle Iverlochy. The sky and weather was clear and bright.

  “It’s so much bigger than yours,” Elyn teased Gavin with a cheeky grin. He feigned shock at her revelation.

  “I’m sure you’ll be impressed anyway, runag.”

  “Have you ever been there before?”

  Gavin released a hand from his saddle and scratched his chin, his stubble surprising him. “Only once, but I was very young. I donae remember very much.”

  “What do ye remember?”

  “Just the smell. We were there for some feast, I think my Da said it was when King James first took the throne and tried to get all three clans to settle any longstanding disputes they had.”

  “Did it work?”

  Gavin shook his head, but cracked a small smile. “What does it look like?”

  Elyn looked back at the castle they were steadily approaching. It seemed to be getting bigger with every hill, but at the same time, didn’t look any closer than when they first could spot a spire. That was at least two hours earlier.

  ***

  They arrived at the castle walls. The sun hung low in the sky, but not quite sunset just yet. The spire they had seen originally seemed to almost touch the sky, its looming mass both a beacon and a warning to anyone who might come across it.

  The castle wasn’t much older than Eilean Donan, but it had a sense of majesty about it that Gavin’s didn’t. Gavin noticed it seemed much older than Eilean Donan Castle. Ivy and plant life scaled the walls, the highlands seemingly having adopted the structure as one of its own, a mountain standing in a valley with nothing around it to challenge its superiority.

  The gates into the castle square were open, and Gavin and Elyn passed through without being stopped by the guards. Gavin decided he would try to keep his profile low, just incase there were any Maxwell or MacDonald men waiting here for him. He couldn’t imagine they would have made better time than him, but he figured it was better to try and stay safe, especially with Elyn in tow. He couldn’t afford to be as reckless as he would have liked to be.

  At the gates to the castle proper, two guards stood by and held up their hands as Gavin and Elyn approached them. They looked a bit rough around the edges, and Gavin observed one looked like he had a lame leg. Gavin frowned as the first guard stopped him and gave him a sickly smile, a smug look on his face. The man eyed Gavin, then turned his attention to Elyn, his eyes obviously undressing her without any sense of shame or honor.

  “What business do you have in Castle Iverlochy?” The guard said without taking his eyes off Elyn. She stared right back at him and Gavin could feel the heat of her anger coming off in waves.

  “Do not look at her like that, or I’ll have your head, guard. I wish to see the king.”

  The older guard sneered. “By what right do you claim that you are worthy of such an audience?”

  “The right of Laird MacKenzie, of Eilean Donan Castle and Clan MacKenzie.” Gavin held up his head, quietly flexing his muscles. He still had a small splash of blood streaked across his chest.

  The guard stammered, unfolding his arms. “Clan MacKenzie?” He turned to the second guard. “What are you waiting for? Let them in! And donae look at the Laird's lass!”

  The second guard shrugged and unlatched the heavy wooden door, pushing it open to allow Elyn and Gavin in. Gavin climbed off his horse and handed the reins to the first guard. “I’m sure you can take care of Elspet, she needs a good stable.”

  As the guard took the reins, Elyn helped herself down off Rhys and guided him to the guard. “Him, too.” She pointed. She followed Gavin inside as he disappeared into the cool interior of the castle walls.

  ***

  Inside the castle, Gavin swallowed hard to try and keep himself calm. The walls were a familiar gray color of hard stone, but the atmosphere was different, more stark, less jubilant than he was used to. Trying to think back in his mind, he couldn’t even recall how his own castle used to be. The hallways were much wider than he was accustomed to. Looking at Elyn, he could see her awe as they strode down the carpeted corridor, her eyes flicking back and forth from thick canvased paintings and ornate stonework along the walls and ceiling.

  He thought it was interesting, her interest in the art made him actually take a look at it for the first time in a long time. He was so used to being around it all the time, he never considered that the villagers in Dornie had probably rarely seen art.

  They reached a small flight of stairs that crossed into the open air between sections of the castle. Gavin noted that it was much like the same breezeway in which he had first taken notice of Elyn, and he smiled briefly as they stepped through it, the wind kicking up and flinging their clothes in hard gusts.

  Two guards on the other side of the gates moved to guide them toward the throne room, but Gavin thought of it as less of a show of hospitality, and more of a move to keep an eye on the two guests. He gritted his teeth. A Laird of the King should never be subjected to such suspicion.

  In the throne room, they stared at the overly ornate and expensive metal and lavish decor that made the rest of the castle look like the rotting and gnarled roots of an up-turned stump. Gold accented nearly everything, and Gavin felt a bit sick seeing such luxury forced down his throat. He only could imagine what it must have been like for Elyn. At the end of the stretched room was the premiere seat of Scotland herself, with King James V waiting for them. The King looked young, much younger than Gavin expected. But perhaps with youth came mercy, so surely he knew what could be done to stop his people from killing each other. King James V was young, with a neat head of hair. His beard was braided in two spots and wrapped in gold. The golden crown of Scotland sat tidily atop his head, as if he were born with it attached to his skull.

  After reaching the steps before the King, the guards took a step back and kept their eyes on Gavin and Elyn. Gavin fell to his knee before the King, only casting his eyes upward for a brief moment. Gavin felt Elyn drop to her knee as well, perhaps a bit too clumsily. He suppressed a pang of embarrassment.

  “Gavin MacKenzie,” the King said, urging Gavin to look at him. “What a surprise to find the son of Angus. What business do you have for me?” He seemed irritated. “You’re lucky ta even find me here. I was preparing to leave next week for the lowlands, getting too chilly to stay here any longer.”

  “Aye, your majesty,” Gavin said, his breath tight in his throat. “Since it appears you do not know, let me be the first to inform you that Angus MacKenzie is dead.”

  The King stood up from the throne, shock raising his eyebrows; his mouth gaped. Gavin continued, “I believed he was slain by the MacDonald Clan.” Gavin hung his head down again.

  The King sat down again and folded his arms. He seemed to be lost in thought, Gavin’s mind raced at what else he could add. Was it improper to come to the King like this?

  “A curious problem. I assume you have proof?”

  Gavin frowned. “What are you saying? Isn’t my presence proof enough for you?” Gavin’s mouth felt dry.

  The King nodded slightly, he waved his hand. “I’ll assume you’re right for the moment, but we can settle this after dinner. I insist you join me.” He swept his gaze over to Elyn, who had a perplexed look in her eye. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Gavin sighed and hung his shoulders. He looked at Elyn for some kind of reassurance, some kind of answer or solution, but she offered none. He could tell by the look in her eyes, though, that she was just as upset at the King’s flip
pant attitude.

  The King clapped his hands together, a smile beaming from him. “Excellent, I’ll have the guards show you to the dining hall, I’ll be there shortly to join you.”

  ***

  The guards led them to the dining hall, a lavishly decorated room that did justice to the rest of the castle. A long table which dominated the center of the room was fit to seat upwards of forty people, pristine decorations and silverware neatly arranged on top of its gleaming surface. Gavin and Elyn sat down on the far end where they were told.

  Other guests arrived from the castle corridors, other clansmen that were in high authority with the King. Gavin couldn’t recognize any of them for Elyn's benefit because he was too young to remember. Gavin only had heard stories of the clans in the castle from Alec and his father, but nothing to put a face to. He frowned and tried to maintain his composure.

  Elyn was silent. Her eyes flicked back and forth between each new guest that arrived, as if she were reading them. She fidgeted with her hands on her lap, turning them over and over again, pulling on the fingers and threatening to crack them. He was grateful she didn’t, not wanting to offend any of the other guests, whom he could tell were eyeing them both somewhat suspiciously. He growled as one overly dressed man gave Elyn the evil eye without her knowing. The man swept around the table and took a seat across from Gavin, much to his revulsion.

  Gavin leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear, only pausing as her delicate scent struck him with surprisingly force. “I donae understand why he didnae believe me.”

  She turned and leaned into his ear, her eyes open and vulnerable for a brief second. “There must be more that we donae know about, maybe. Are you...” she looked at him more closely, and chose her words. “Anxious?”

  He shook his head, but knew she saw right through it. She looked down at his hands and grabbed one. He felt his heart race, her fingers neatly threading in his palm, resting interlocked in his. He stared at her and felt the desperate need to kiss her, but knew it would be improper.

  The King came through a set of doors, the sound of them shuttering open startling Gavin out of his reverie. Gavin cursed under his breath, then almost laughed inside at the incredible high he felt from having Elyn's hand hidden in his under the table. The simple act of holding hands was enough to calm his nerves.

  The King moved next to Gavin and took his seat in the large chair at the end of the table. No chair matched his, even on the opposite side. As the King settled down, the hall grew quiet as he smiled at a servant and food began to pile up in front of the guests.

  After eating small portions of fish and bread on the highlands, it was almost unbelievable. Elyn seemed just as excited about the food, and Gavin thought about how it must have looked to her, a commoner. He thought more about it. Common wasn’t quite right. She was uncommon if anything at all. He looked at her and smiled, thinking of how he’d never let her eat so little ever again.

  The King coughed. “Please, I know ye want to talk, but let’s eat first. I can tell you’ve had it rough.” He began to eat, noisily and greedily. Gavin dished up food for Elyn and himself. She thanked him and tucked in.

  ***

  The King finished his meal, slurping up the last of the chicken on his plate.

  “So it finally happened...” the King said, setting his fork with a clatter on his plate. The servants nearby bristled at the screech, and the room fell completely silent, the other guests also directing their attention to the King. “I was always worried this day would come.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “That the MacDonalds would finally get revenge on your family.”

  Gavin bit his tongue, gazing up at the King only long enough to note the coldness in his eyes.

  “I came to you to put a stop to this.” Gavin’s voice rose despite his attempts to stay calm. “I donae want a feud with the MacDonalds as much as I’m sure you donae want your own people killing each other senselessly!” Gavin sprung to his feet, his skin red with anger. The guards readied themselves, startling Gavin but not deterring him. He felt the other guests’ eyes on him. “Can’t you stop this? Of all people in Scotland, can’t ye put an end to this madness?”

  “If what you say is true, and Angus MacKenzie is dead by the hand of MacDonald Clansmen, then what can I do that your father didn’t already attempt?” the King said. “You’re right though, I donae want my own people fighting, but if there is a way of stopping this, maybe it's only with finally bringing justice to the minds of Laird MacDonald and his wife.”

  “I donae understand... I left the castle the night he was killed.”

  The King raised his eyebrows and leaned over to a servant, whispering something to him. Gavin’s heart pounded in his ears.

  “You saw the MacDonald men who attacked your father?”

  “Yes. I chased him to my father’s chambers and found him slain. I know they did it. They had to.” He swallowed hard. “Even if it is because of what the MacDonalds thought my clan did twenty years ago, isn’t it time they let go? Let go of their dead daughter?”

  “Could you?”

  Gavin stared in disbelief.

  “Could you stand by and let the clan that murdered your daughter get away without repentance? Nay, I think this is all a ruse. I haven’t received any letters from your father or Eilean Donan Castle in the last nine months. I summoned Laird Angus to my castle last year and never heard a word back. At first I figured nothing was wrong, until my advisor — ” the King pointed toward the overly dressed man sitting across from Gavin, brown hair hanging from his head. “ — Laird Maxwell, informed me that your family was refusing to marry into his, which was causing some tension. He then informed me that he had heard that the MacKenzies were only trying to get a foot hold into the Maxwells to storm the throne. Combined with the lack of news from Eilean Donan, I had no choice but to write off your entire clan. Needless to say, I’m extremely surprised to see you showing your face here at all.”

  Gavin stared hard at the King as he finished his speech, but his mind had gone numb. “It can’t be true...” Gavin stared past the King and tried to unravel what happened. Was his father truly a tratior to the crown? With his actions, had he condemned Gavin to the same fate? Who else knew? Did Alec know? He cursed silently.

  Gavin was barely aware of Elyn standing to her feet. She shouted at the King, “You killed the Laird. This is your fault, not his.” Before Gavin could move again or realize what was happening, The King waved his hand and guards stepped forward and seized them, snatching Elyn and grabbing Gavin by his arms.

  The King ordered, “Throw them into the dungeon. I won’t tolerate commoners talking to me like this. Let them consider their worth.”

  As Gavin was dragged out of the dining hall, he caught a glimpse of sick pleasure on Laird Maxwell’s face.

  The doors to the throne room disappeared down the hallway as the pair were dragged down stone steps and thrown into the castle’s dungeon.

  ***

  In the keep, Gavin folded his arms over his knees and turned away from Elyn. He couldn’t bare to look at her, already embarrassed by how incensed she was. She was on her feet, grabbing the bars of their cell and yelling profanities. She rose to her toes each time she shouted, squeezing her face between the bars.

  “Elyn, stop.” He tried to say with some sort of stern command and authority in his voice, but failed. “What’s the point? We’re traitors and, according to the crown, we deserve this and more.”

  “Bullshite!” Elyn yelled, startling Gavin out of his destitution. “Your father isn’t a traitor!”

  “How can you say that? You have no idea who my father is. You’re just a commoner, nothing better.”

  Elyn fumed, shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. She grabbed Gavin by the arm and shook him. “Bullshite. It donae matter anyway, I donae deserve this shite! I didnae do anything! If anything, I should be the one executing you!”

  Gavin stared at her, op
ening and closing his eyes. He tried to grasp for words, but none would come. He couldn’t believe someone could say that to him, of all people. He quietly nodded and agreed with her, before turning over to face the corner of the cell. “Just let me be.”

  “ 'Just let me be,' ” Elyn mocked him. “I wish you would have let me be in the first place.”

  He turned to her, his voice fiery: “You were the one who decided to come with me, you’re the one who got us thrown in here for talking back to the King! I should have known better than to have brought you along, you were nothing but trouble the first minute I saw you.”

  Her eyes glazed over and she looked away. Without apologizing, Gavin snorted and shook his head. “Just let us sleep already, there’s no use in fighin’ it any longer.” He curled up and laid his head on the hard stone floor, the dank smell of moss and water heady and powerful. Within a few minutes, he felt himself drifting. Elyn murmured something to herself, but he ignored it.

  ***

  None if it made any sense to Elyn Douglas. Why would Laird Angus betray the King of Scotland? Especially if he was trying to get his only son to marry another clan who, obviously, swore fealty and loyalty to the king? To what ends?

  While the MacKenzies had a large claim of land and property, it wasn’t as if they would have had the power to overthrow the Maxwells and force them to revolt as well. What was there to revolt against? Nothing Elyn had ever heard of, no unrest she had heard gossiped about in the keep. Maybe it was kept that way so no one would question it.

  Was there more to it that she just didn’t know? She wondered to herself as she heard Gavin begin to snore. The solitary window that was in their cell gave her the chance to read the time, but nothing more than that. The wrought-iron bars that held them were guarded by a lone guard who looked very young.

  The guard swayed from foot to foot, obviously impatient with his task. Elyn crawled across the floor and stood up, grasping the bars and clicking her tongue to get his attention. He turned to face her.

  “Yea? What is it?” His voice was gruff, but surprising coming from his acne-ridden face. Elyn cast a look at Gavin before answering, wondering how old the young Laird was anyway.

 

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