by Tarah Scott
Within moments, he collapsed on the ground next to her and gathered her in his arms. Keira pressed her backside up against him. Desire shot to his groin, as her backside pressed against him. He wanted her all over again, but had to resist. He knew she would be too sore and he hoped she would heal quickly so he could make love to her again tomorrow, God willing.
“Ian, have ye been wit’ many women?”
Ian’s brow rose at her question. He wondered where that had come from.
“A few,” he truthfully responded.
“Did I please ye?”
Ian smiled at her question. Though he found her question silly, it was a valid question. She had no experience in such things and could not have been expected to know what to do. But he wondered how she could think that she had not pleased him? In truth, she did please him very much.
“Aye, lass. Ye please me,” he responded.
~*~
Keira felt completely drained of energy. Ian on the other hand, walked around as if he felt refreshed. Handing her the gown he had tossed onto the ground, Keira slipped it over her head and stood.
“We should head back to camp before the lads come looking fer us,” he suggested.
“I agree. I certainly dinna want them finding us in such a predicament.”
Keira and Ian walked back to the camp where Leland and Rylan were already fast asleep near the fire. Quietly, Ian and Keira slipped inside the tent and covered themselves with the plaid. Unlike how she felt the first time they’d slept in the same bed together, Keira did not protest when Ian grabbed her and held her in his arms. She found she rather liked it there. It did not take long for her to get comfortable snuggled inside Ian’s warm embrace and she fell fast asleep.
Chapter 20
It was well before dawn when the four of them started their journey north towards Inverness. Ian was hell-bent on arriving at the King’s castle before nightfall. The wind blew fierce against their backs as if nature itself had lent a hand, pushing them towards their destination, as if their arrival would affect fate itself.
It was a hard ride for Keira as Ian pushed the horses fast across the uneven terrain of the Highlands. With only a few short breaks to stop and stretch, she felt her legs and backside turn numb, as her bottom jostled up and down on the hard leather saddle. She was not used to riding this hard but she would not complain. She knew Ian’s reasons for expediting their journey. They had to cross not only enemy territory but a southern point of Chisholm’s holdings as well.
Ian explained to her how dangerous it would be for her to be caught in the middle of battle. If they could safely reach Fraser territory to the north, they could find a safe haven there for her in the event Chisholm attacked.
Rylan took off ahead to scout out the area, leaving just Leland and Ian to protect Keira. She had faith in the two brothers and knew she was well cared for but it did not ease her worry. Traveling across enemy territory did not bother her. It was their destination she feared, and facing her father. She could not imagine what they were doing to him. Despite that he had lied to her, he was still her father.
Unsettling images of her father chained to others in the bowels of a dungeon had haunted her dreams the past two nights. Though he was convicted of crimes against the crown, the thought was still unnerving. She knew one day her father would have to answer for his sins but she could never have imagined his sins were so great.
She loved her father very much but was equally as angry with him. He had put her in the worst sort of predicament. His selfish actions made her and her sisters have to choose not only between him and God, but between him and the king. He was a heretic and a traitor, either of which would ultimately result in his death. Keira realized she could do nothing to save him. This journey had never been about saving him or his soul. It was for her; to allow her closure and to say goodbye.
For hours they rode, long past the setting sun until the moon hung high in the sky. They stopped along the shore of a small body of water, and Keira could see the castle turrets reaching high above the trees on the other side of the loch. Inverness, she whispered to herself.
The structure was massive and much larger than her home at Castle Sinclair. Even from across the bay, Keira could sense its magnitude. She thought of the labyrinth of halls and rooms that made up the keep. Though it had only been a week that she had last occupied the castle, she felt as if it were just yesterday that she was within those walls preparing to give her life to her betrothed before this tornado of events had occurred.
How different things would have been had they played out as her father had intended. She would be married to Laird Chisholm and father would have been safely back at Castle Sinclair with her sisters. But had things not turned out the way they had, she would never have met Ian. And if she had met him under different circumstances, they would have been enemies. That thought did not sit well.
“Leland, we are to meet Laird Gudeman at Margie’s tavern to let him know we have arrived,” Ian informed him.
Keira looked up at Ian. He had made mention of Laird Gudeman on several occasions, saying that he was the man who from whom Ian had received his orders. Perhaps he was one of King James’ personal guards.
The three of them walked into the tavern and took a seat at a small round table near the back. A young barmaid offered them a drink as they sat. Within a few moments, a man Keira assumed was Laird Gudeman, judging by the way Ian and Leland took notice of him, came down the stairs with a young buxom lass on his arm. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and sent her away. Walking over to their table, he took the vacant chair that sat across from Ian.
He was a young man of fair complexion. By his clothing Keira would have thought him a mere peasant, but his well-manicured beard, white teeth and clean fingernails said otherwise. He looked familiar to her but she could not place where she would ever have met him before.
While Ian explained their situation and the roles Keira and her father had played, she sat quietly and listened. Laird Gudeman seemed to be in agreement with the others; believing her father was a traitor. Keira, however, had already made up her mind that until she heard the words from her own father’s lips, she would never believe it. Gudeman eyed her suspiciously.
“Ye dinna believe it to be so, do ye lass?” Laird Gudeman asked.
“I have only known my father to be a good mon,” she replied.
“I would be verra interested to hear yer side of the story.”
“I dinna know what else to say. Ian has already told ye everything.”
“Do ye believe in the allegations against yer father?”
“I believe, my laird that until I hear it from his own lips, I can no’ say fer certain.”
“But ye agree that he denounced the church?”
“I dinna believe it is a simple thing to say aye or nay. I dinna believe he has issues wit’ the church, my laird but with God Himself. My father blames God for taking my mother. It wasn’t until my mother died that he banished Father Bryant and stopped going to sermons. My mother died five years ago in childbirth and I think when he lost her, he lost a part of himself.”
Keira looked at Ian with sad eyes. She assumed Ian must have felt the same way when he lost Sarah. Turning her attention back to Laird Gudeman, she did not care whether he believed her or not. He was just another man quick to judge and point fingers. For all she knew, he was just another pompous Laird believing he was as high and godly as God himself. Who was he to place judgment?
“I am sorry fer yer loss on both accounts. As fer yer father, there were witnesses who came forward who testified against him, even some of his own men.”
“I dinna believe that. None of my clansmen would ever go against my father.”
“Do ye no’ believe the word of my men?” Laird Gudeman asked with a curious expression.
“If I may speak so freely my Laird, I have come to learn that yer men think more wit’ their balls than their brains.”
Ian coughed, spitting out the ale h
e choked on from Keira’s outburst. Laird Gudeman’s eyes widened in surprise at her harsh words, but he quickly let out a hearty chuckle.
“Aye, that may verra well be true lass,” he agreed.
Ian held his hand up to stop Keira from replying.
“Tomorrow we will discuss matters further,” Ian said.
“Agreed,” Gudeman said as he stood up from his chair. “Lady Keira, it has been my pleasure to make yer acquaintance. Ian MacKay is a good mon, one of my best warriors, and I am sure he will be a good husband to ye.”
Keira just nodded her head in response, as it wasn’t her pleasure at all to make his acquaintance.
~*~
Ian and Leland led the horses towards the gates where several armed guards were stationed at their posts. By the light shining from the torches that hung from the walls, Ian could make out more than twenty dark figures walking along the parapet atop the castle wall. He did not recall so many men securing the castle during his last visit here.
“Who goes there?” a guard called down to them from one of the towers.
“I am Ian MacKay of Clan MacKay and I’m accompanied by my brother Leland. I have come to provide testimony to the king,” he replied.
“A MacKay ye say! Well ye would be the first. And who is that wit’ ye?” the guard asked, looking down at Keira.
Ian could sense that she was about to respond. He glanced down as he whispered, “Dinna say a word.” Looking back to the man atop the tower he replied, “She is my wife.”
Keira looked up at Ian but he discouraged her questioning look by shaking his head.
“Verra well then, open the gates!” the guard called down to the gate guards. “Leave yer weapons when ye enter,” he added.
Ian removed his weapons and laid them inside a large cart full of swords and daggers that sat just outside the gate. Taking the reins, he led his horse through the gate.
A loud pounding echoed around them as they entered the courtyard. Searching the noise, he saw a group of men constructing the platform of the gallows. The smell of burnt flesh lingered in the air as several other men swept up ashes that were still smoldering. Ian felt Keira trembling in his arms. “Tis alright lass,” he whispered before dismounting.
A young red-headed man came running out of the barn to greet them.
“That be a fine beast ye have there, Sir,” he said, running his hand along Ian’s mare.
“Aye. Her name is Storm Fighter. She once belonged to the King.”
“Storm Warrior must be her sire. I’d recognize the similar coat anywhere. Never seen another one like her.”
“Ye know yer horses!” Ian said.
“Aye, I am the stable master here at Inverness. I have been running stables since I was a lad. Dinna worry about yer mount. I’ll take good care of her.”
“I trust that ye will.”
~*~
Ian walked to the side of the horse and helped Keira dismount as Leland grabbed their satchel from the saddle bags and came to Keira’s other side. Wrapping his arm around Keira, Ian held her close to his side as they walked swiftly toward the door of the keep.
“Ian what’s the matter?” Leland asked.
“Just get inside the castle Leland, I will explain later.”
Instantly, Keira knew something was amiss.
The three of them were greeted at the front door by one of the castle’s chambermaids who eagerly found them a room and ordered a meal to be sent up to Ian’s and Keira’s quarters as the evening meal had been served long since, and the tables put away for the night. Keira pitied Leland as the maid insisted he sleep in the guard house.
The maid led them to a bedchamber on the third floor.
“Is there anything else I can get fer ye?” the maid asked.
“Just bring the meal for the three of us, if you please. After that, we wish to no’ be disturbed,” Ian firmly replied.
As soon as the maid left, Keira could feel the tension in the air.
“Ian, why have ye been acting so strangely?”
Ian looked to Leland before turning his attention back to Keira.
“Have ye noticed when we reached the gate, they no’ made any mention of Rylan?”
Keira pondered his question. Had Rylan made it to Inverness, he would certainly have introduced himself as a MacKay, yet she did remember the guards mentioning that they were the only MacKays present. Even the stable master seemed surprised to see a horse like Ian’s, but Rylan’s horse looked almost identical. Surely, if he’d seen Rylan’s horse it would have come up in conversation. Had something terrible happened to him?
“Ye dinna suppose he was attacked on his way here, do ye?”
“I’m no’ sure,” Ian said.
“Had Rylan been accosted, there would have been signs on the road. We traveled the same path,” Leland added.
“Do ye suppose wit’ the bounty on his head, he chose no’ to come? After all, ye did say that many men were after him,” Keira said directing her comments to Ian.
“That may be true, but tis no’ like Rylan to go missing. And I can no’ go looking fer him either.” Turning his attention to Leland, he continued, “Once the trials are over, I will take Keira home to Invercauld. From there, we will search fer Rylan.”
“Invercauld? But I thought ye lived at Varrich? That is where Clan MacKay hails from. My father spoke of it many times.”
Leland responded, “Castle Varrich was our home. Many years ago, our home was taken from us. It was seized by the Sutherlands shortly after they burned our village. We make our home now wit’ our cousins, Clan Farquharson. But it is Ian’s hope to one day restore our clan to its rightful place when our father passes. For now, our clans have allied.”
Keira looked back at Ian.
“That’s why ye left home in the first place, isn’t it? Fighting the Sutherlands was yer mission, and that’s why ye felt it was yer fault they attacked yer lands,” Keira said, affirming what she already knew.
Remaining silent, Ian nodded. Losing his wife was one thing, but his home as well? Pity did not even begin to describe what she felt for her husband.
The more she learned about him, the more she started to understand him. And with understanding came trust and respect, and with respect came admiration and love. God blessed! Could it be true? Had she fallen in love with him? Keira wrung her hands together as she thought more on it. She couldn’t possibly be!
Keira sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes following Ian and Leland as they paced back and forth while they were in deep conversation about Rylan. Too distracted, she couldn’t keep up with their conversation. They spoke in half sentences as if they had the ability to read each other’s minds. Their actions were not completely out of the ordinary, for she and Alys had the same ability.
“Leland,” Ian said, “I want ye to stay here and guard the door. I am going to speak to the officers.”
“Yer leaving?” Keira interrupted.
“I will be right back. I am going to see if there has been any sign of Rylan, and see if they will allow ye to speak to yer father before tomorrow. The maid will be here shortly. I want ye to stay here with Leland. Listen to his orders. I am leaving him in charge. Do ye understand?”
“Aye. Please do no’ be gone long.”
Ian walked up to her and placed his fingers under her chin. Lifting her head, he kissed her. But before Keira could kiss him back he was already gone.
Leland and Keira sat down on the chairs and waited.
~*~
Ian left the chamber in search of answers. He decided it was best to speak to the castle steward first. If Rylan had arrived, he would know about it. Ian also hoped to gain permission from the man for Keira to speak to her father in the dungeons below, at least to get her questions answered and say goodbye.
As Ian reached the steward’s quarters, he found the man hanging up a ring of keys on a rusty nail hammered into the back wall behind his desk. Cell keys, he figured, by the looks of them. One too many tim
es had Ian seen keys such as those. The man continued to sit at his desk and began reading a ledger.
The steward looked up at him defensively. With no guards present, and no formal introduction, Ian stepped into the chamber. The man gasped and looked ready to run. It became clear to Ian this man was not a military man, but by the look of him he was a man of politics, and ambition. By the smell of whiskey from his breath; he was also a man well into his cups which meant he might be easily persuaded if Ian used just the right approach.
“Good day, Sir…” the steward began, slurring his speech.
“MacKay. Ian MacKay.”
“Aye, well it’s quite unfortunate that ye have caught me at a bad hour. I am no’ taking any meetings today. I’m verra busy as ye can see. Come back tomorrow,” he said as he continued his reading.
“I was sent here on behalf of Clan Sinclair. I have escorted the laird’s daughter to pay her last respects to the man before ye see him hanged.”
The steward looked up at him, giving him a vicious glower with his reddened eyes.
“Visits will take place tomorrow before the tribunal,” he said, hiccupping as he tried to speak.
“Aye, I understand. Ye have yer orders. Surely, ye would allow a mon of God to hear the prisoner’s confession.”
“Ye are a mon of God?” the steward asked suspiciously.
“Aye. I apologize for my attire, but ye know traveling through these Highlands. One feels the need to conceal his identity until he is called upon in times of need.” Ian hastily replied.
“Surely ye must understand my position, Father.”
“My humble apologies. I do no’ wish to get ye in trouble wit’ yer superiors. Is there someone else I should ask?”
“Nay. I am this castle’s steward therefore all requests go through me.”
