by R. L. Syme
“You’re lying. He’s gone back to Holland so I won’t follow him. He wants me to stay here with you.”
“Oh, Cadha,” Maas whispered into her hair. He held her tight as she cried, and let her pound at him. “I know you loved him, and he loved you. His last words were for you.”
Why would Valc send his sword if he was alive? Why would he pretend to be dead if he planned to let her make her own choice? She sagged against Maas and let her tears come.
“Where is Auden?” she asked. “I want to see Brother Auden.”
Maas stroked her hair. “He is taking the body to Holy Island. Valc had no other family, so the monk took charge of seeing him to his final resting place.”
Cadha shook her head against his comfort. “You don’t understand. I need to see him. I need to see his body for myself. I need to speak with Auden.”
“I can take you to Holy Island,” Maas promised. “Malcolm has said he will give us whatever we need for the journey.”
“The brothers at Lindisfarne should have Valc’s ship,” Cadha said. The words sounded hollow, even as she forced them to come. “Auden should have it.”
“That is what he sailed back to England. He planned to deliver Valc’s treasure box, since he seems to be the only one who knows what to do with it.”
“Yes, Auden would know what to do.”
“For people who have only known each other a week, you three had the deepest trust for one another.” Maas bent to retrieve the sword. “It is quite remarkable.”
Cadha closed her fingers over his hand on the hilt. “How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“You seem certain that Valc loved me. How did you know?”
Maas gave her a sorrowful smile. “I heard you speaking to him the night you arrived. Not every man would be able to stand in front of the woman they love and turn her away.”
Cadha let the sword tip sink into the ground and touched Mass’s face with her other hand. “Not every man would be able to stand in front of the woman they love and listen to her grieve another man.”
“It depends on how much that man loves you.” Maas closed his eyes and turned into her touch. He kissed her palm and a bolt of emotion shot through her.
Maas had loved her for so many years, steadfast and true. He had talked so often of their being man and wife, it had become the only thing she could trust in the world.
But if she had been ready to leave him behind for the promise of something deeper and more passionate with Valc Vanhorn, she didn’t know if she could trust her feelings. Maybe Valc had been right. Maybe she was allowing emotion to control her.
Maas took her in his arms again and stroked her back in rhythm to his steady breath. She tried to remember the day, not too long past, when they’d stood on the docks in Hoorn and he’d been ready to leave with her father to go to Scotland. It was such a faint memory now, crowded out with the red hot memories of Valc. But it was still there.
The passion was not there, but his love was constant. Maybe that was enough. Cadha walked at Maas’s side back to the castle, dragging Valc’s sword in the dirt, unable to muster the strength to carry it, weighed down by the memory of him waving it in the air, majestic and smiling and ready to defend her unto his death.
Chapter Nineteen
Cadha hadn’t been able to look at the coast since the man they called Old Yaris announced that the ship was approaching the island. Maas had promised her a stop at Holy Island, and had offered to take her home to her parents after they saw Valc’s grave.
The trip had taken a whole day, and another day almost through, and the sight of the tiny island sitting just off the coast should have given her the ending she had been seeking. Instead, it brought tears to her eyes once again.
Maas held her against the wind and they’d studied what could be seen from the side of the ship that faced away from the island. He hadn’t asked any questions when she refused to look at the monastery. Instead, he remained with her in silence.
The captain spoke to Maas in quiet tones. They lowered the ship’s boat and Maas held out his hand to escort Cadha down the rope ladder. She almost couldn’t take it.
She didn’t want to see Brother Auden alive. A part of her kept imagining that Auden and Valc were off together somewhere on an adventure, protecting the girls who suffered injustice in Berwick, or fighting the Bastard of Balfour in the North Sea. But if she saw Auden, it would make Valc’s death too real for her.
Then, he would really be gone.
For a long moment, Cadha closed her eyes and pictured Valc as she remembered him, white shirt hanging open, ridiculous dress discarded, hair whipping in the wind, sword high in the air. She needed to hold on to this memory for as long as God and nature would allow.
She took Maas’s hand and climbed into the boat after him.
“I will anchor here.” The captain and his toothless grin receded into the distance as Holy Island grew larger.
Cadha tried to imagine what it had been like for Valc to wake on the shore of this island, cold and wet and tired, in the dark. Had he looked for her? Had he gone straight to the monastery? She’d never asked him. There were so many things she’d never asked him, and now...
Maas had recounted the story of the real Greta—the woman Valc had pretended to be in order to get Cadha to buy passage on his ship. And there were things she thought Auden could tell her that Valc had told only him. But she didn’t know who else to speak to. She had no idea who she should notify of Valc’s death. He’d never spoken of anyone else, and she knew he didn’t have any other family. Was she the last person on earth who would ever visit his grave?
Maas rowed them into the beach and helped Cadha step out onto the sand. She looked into the bottom of the boat and saw Maas had brought the sword. Cadha bent to grab it and found herself almost unable to stand again. Maas came behind her and helped her to her feet. He dragged the boat far enough up the beach that they would be able to return to it, and they began the trek up to the monastery.
They passed the first rise, and came to the road. A woman gave them a strange look as they climbed up onto the smooth path, but she rushed forward to help Cadha onto the solid ground.
She said something to Maas and then offered a wan smile. He translated, “She said they’re coming from the chapel. There’s a priest up at the monastery who says mass every day.”
Cadha looked up and down the road and saw it was filled with people. Couples, families, children running ahead of their parents, or stopping to play in the tall grass alongside.
A large puddle had formed not far from where they stood and a little boy pounced in it, sending splashes of water everywhere. Cadha dragged the sword behind her and got more strange looks from the villagers, but she didn’t care. They were streaming down the hill from the monastery and by the time Cadha and Maas reached the top, the crowd had thinned.
A few monks waited at the door to the chapel. One of them looked down at her weapon and forced a smile. He spoke to her in English, and Maas tried to translate for her.
“He says there are no weapons allowed in the house of God.”
Cadha snorted. “With a smile on his face, no less.” She pulled the sword up into her arms. “I’m not leaving it with him.”
Maas placed her near the door and spoke to the monk, then came back to Cadha. “I’m going with him to find Brother Auden and the cemetery. You can stay here, outside the building, if you prefer.”
“I’ll stay,” she said, and sagged against the door.
“I will return shortly.” Maas bent in to kiss her forehead and she rested against him for a moment. “Would you like me to send this monk and stay here while we wait for Auden?”
“No. Go.” She rested the sword against the building. “I will be well, I promise.”
Maas followed two of the light-robed monks up some stairs, out of sight, and she heard a door open and close. Valc hadn’t told her much about the monastery, but he had mentioned their propensity for st
airs and doors. The other monk stayed near her, likely to keep her from taking the sword in and sitting down on one of the benches.
The trip had tired her more than she wanted to admit. She was ready to be back at home, with her family. Maas would keep her safe, and she would soon be the wife of a ship’s doctor.
There was some peace in knowing this would all soon be over.
Her heart hadn’t stopped hurting since the night Maas had presented her with this sword. If she could find Valc’s grave, she planned to sink the sword into the earth, like the old Dutch war chiefs had done with their weapons when they died. She could leave the sword behind and begin the long process of cutting Valc out of her memory and mind.
She must have looked wobbly, because the monk lurched forward with his arms out, muttering something in English. It wasn’t until he was past her that she realized he hadn’t been about to help her.
He said something a little louder, and the voice that answered back made every muscle in Cadha’s body go numb. Forgetting the sword, she ran around the corner, through the door, and into the chapel.
Just inside, wobbling down the aisle, was the man who made her heart beat wild with desire. She blinked and dragged in one long breath after another.
She called his name. “Valc.”
He looked up, holding on to the monk’s shoulder for support. When his brown eyes met hers, he shook his head and blinked right back.
“Cadha?” His voice cracked. “Cadha, what are you doing here?”
She rushed forward as the monk stuttered some words she couldn’t understand, and her arms were around Valc’s body before she realized that he was collapsing against her. She tried to stand with him, but he could not stand.
He fell back onto the bench and the monk helped him. He waved the man off and said a few sentences. The monk took enough steps back, Valc had some space to breathe.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, touching his legs, his stomach, his face. “Maas told me you were dead. That you gave me your sword. That Auden brought you here to bury you.”
“And so he did.” Valc winced and pushed himself to the side of the bench. He stretched. “The last thing I remember was giving my sword to Erlan to send back to you, and then… nothing. Black. I awoke yesterday in the hospital here, with Auden at my side proclaiming a miracle.”
Tears crowded her vision and she kept touching him. He didn’t seem real. He was dressed in a light robe, like the other monks, and his hair had been cut short, like Auden’s. But it was him.
“I never expected to see you again, Cadha.” A sheen of tears wet his eyes. “I thought you’d marry Erlan and have a thousand babies.”
“I needed to see you. See your grave. Know for myself that you were dead.” She launched at him, catching his mouth in a kiss. The heat burned through her that had been missing when she kissed Maas. As much as she’d tried to convince herself she would grow to feel this, she just couldn’t imagine feeling for anyone what she felt for Valc.
She kissed him like she’d rather breathe him in than live. But he did not kiss her back. He stayed stone-still and tolerated her ministrations.
“I may not be dead, Cadha, but I am not alive.” He put a hand to his side. “I am injured still, and I do not know if I will live, or for how long.”
“I don’t care.” She pulled at his hand and put it on her cheek. “Don’t you see? I’ve come after you, even in death. I’m never going to stop coming after you.”
“Then I’ll go somewhere you can’t find me.” He put his hand on her shoulder and made to stand.
Cadha bounded to her feet and held him. “Valc, don’t do this. Not when I’ve lost you once already.”
He motioned to the other monk, who came to offer him balance. Valc pushed off her arm and walked away.
“Please. You can’t leave me.” She glanced up at the ceiling and offered up her quick prayer. Please, make him see. “Valc, why are you doing this?”
Valc stopped and motioned for the monk to step away again. He leaned on the door and turned back to face her. “It’s for your own good, Cadha. You don’t know this now, but you’re going to hate me if I let you leave Erlan behind. You have someone who loves you, who you have loved for years, who wants to be with only you. You’re going to regret leaving that behind.”
Cadha’s throat itched and she swallowed against the tears. “Valc, I know about Greta. You don’t have to protect me from that.”
He closed his eyes against the memories. “You don’t know what it was like, Cadha. Thinking she loved me all those years, that I was something special.” His mouth opened and hung there. “You don’t understand what that’s like.”
“I can only imagine.” Cadha stepped toward him, but he held up his hand.
“It would be so much worse to see that regret in your eyes.” He leaned his head back on the door. “Besides, you came here with Erlan, no doubt, so you can leave with him. He will give you safety.”
“I don’t want safety.” Cadha crossed the distance between them and pressed her body into his. “Love is brash and wild and unpredictable, like the sea. It might swallow you whole, or carry you on your journey. But when you decide not to brave its waters, that’s cowardice.”
A tear slid onto his cheek and his jaw muscles rippled. “It’s protection.”
“I don’t want you to protect me.” She slipped her fingers against his cheek. “I want you to love me.”
Valc bowed his head and rested his forehead against hers. Just when she thought he would speak again, he dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her, hard and deep and long. His hands were in her hair, on her back, over her body. He slid his tongue between her lips and her knees forgot to be knees. She sagged against him and he winced.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You never will mean to.” His words were drawn, resigned. “But I will heal.”
Loud steps pounded near the door and Cadha heard Maas shouting for her. “Cadha! He’s alive!” His red face soon appeared, his smile wide with glee. He took in the scene, Valc’s arms around her, her face no doubt flushed with the desire that pooled in her body. But his smile did not break.
He offered a hand to Valc. “My friend. It is good to see that the rumors of your death were wildly exaggerated.”
Valc accepted the handshake. “Careful with the resurrection talk. They’ll think you want to form another religion and arrest you for heresy. Only one person gets to rise from the dead around a monkery.”
Cadha laughed. “Monastery.”
Valc responded by kissing her forehead. “It’s not your average, everyday monastery. Auden and I have much to tell you.”
Maas retrieved the sword from outside the chapel and put it in Valc’s hand. “You have everything back that belongs to you.”
The note of sadness in his voice lanced Cadha’s heart. She reached for him. “Part of me will always belong to you, Maas. You know that.”
“Ah, but I am Maas no longer.” He squeezed her hand. “I am Erlan once more, and I have a sister who will soon have a family in Scotland, which is my home. You will always belong in Hoorn.”
“Or on the sea,” Valc and Cadha responded together, then traded laughter.
Valc kissed her head and rested against her, his arms still threaded around her body. Cadha imagined that she could sit like this forever and be perfectly happy. With the two men she loved, one with her past and one with her future. She would never stop loving Maas, for the boy he had been when she needed him. But she would never stop loving Valc, the protector, the lover, the partner.
Never.
Before you go…
From the author: I hope you enjoyed Cadha’s Rogue. Thank you for joining the adventure. Would you consider posting a review of the book on Goodreads or your favorite bookstore? Thanks so much!
-R.L. Syme (also w/a Becca Boyd)
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Have you read the rest of the
Highland Renegades Series
of Medieval Historical Romance?
The Outcast Highlander (2013)
The Runaway Highlander (2014)
The Pirate Highlander/Malcolm’s Return (2014)
Lachlan’s Revenge (novella—2015)
Cadha’s Rogue (novella—2015)
Or the Line of Fire series of romantic suspense novels, set in Somewhere, TX, R.L. Syme writing as Becca Boyd?
Fire Away (2014)
Fire Fight (2015)
Fire Up (coming in 2016)
As We Dream By the Fire (2015)
Catch Fire (coming in 2015)
