The Price of Freedom

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The Price of Freedom Page 15

by Carol Umberger


  Fergus defended her, tight-lipped and obviously angry. “I can assure ye it doesn’t lie with Carleton.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “She despises the man. Surely ye must know at least that much about yer wife!”

  “You seem to know as much or more about the lady than I do. How is that?”

  Fergus jumped up, fists raised. “What are ye accusing me of?”

  “Stop it, both of ye,” Thomas thundered. “Ye’re actin’ like a couple of dogs with a bone.” He glared at Bryan. “Are ye goin’ to rescue the lass or not?”

  Bryan shoved his hand through his hair, taking time to let his anger cool. “Aye, let’s be about it. Have the men mount up. We need to move deeper into the woods and devise a plan.”

  Fergus put a hand on his arm. “That ye question my loyalty is bad enough, but why do ye question Kathryn’s?”

  “Are you so sure, Fergus? Are you sure we aren’t riding into a cleverly laid English trap? Not only do they gain Homelea and its mistress, but Black Bryan as well.”

  “If it is a trap, it’s not of Kathryn’s doing!”

  Fergus stalked away, and Bryan threw his saddle over Cerin’s broad back.

  How could he be sure? He couldn’t be sure of anything! And he needed to be sure.

  KATHRYN AWOKE, CONFUSED AT FIRST by the unfamiliar room. Where am I? And whose prisoner?

  She climbed out of bed and gratefully washed in the basin of tepid water on the table. Having made herself presentable, she paced the room, hoping someone would soon bring food. She hadn’t eaten since before leaving Homelea yesterday afternoon.

  When Simon showed up at her door she said, “I demand to speak to your leader.”

  “His lordship won’t be here for a few days. Just relax and enjoy yourself, lady.”

  “And who is his lordship?”

  “Sir Rodney Carleton. We’re to stay here and see if your Scottish rebel comes a calling.”

  He refused to answer any more of her questions, and Kathryn was once again alone with her anxiety. A small window high on the wall allowed the only light and made it difficult to judge the passage of time.

  Kathryn wondered for the hundredth time if Sir Bryan would come for her. In truth, she feared he would be lured here to his death. The thought twisted her stomach into a knot. Though she hadn’t wanted to marry him, still she would not wish for any harm to come to him. The knight was at least honorable, more than she could say for Rodney.

  She thought of Rodney’s handsome face with its straight nose and lively blue eyes. Black Bryan and his ruddy skin and intense dark eyes. Rodney—whipcord lean and fast. Bryan—strong and true. The two men couldn’t be more different.

  Isobel’s safety depended on the knight—Rodney must not be given the chance to use the child for his own self-interest. He knew Kathryn well enough to know she would bend to his will if that’s what it took to keep the child safe.

  If she had to choose—if she were free to choose—it wouldn’t be difficult.

  Would that she’d be given a choice.

  TEN

  BRYAN OBSERVED NORHAM CASTLE from a tree line some distance away. No one had entered or left since early this morning and now, as he waited for the midday meal, he recalled the role the imposing keep had played in Scotland’s history. Here the nobles of Scotland had foolishly acknowledged Edward I of England as the supreme and direct laird of Scotland in 1291, the year of Bryan’s birth. Then the nobles had accepted Edward’s choice for Scotland’s king, John Balliol, thus setting in motion the events that had fueled the war Bryan had fought in since he was barely fifteen.

  Within five years, Edward removed his puppet from Scotland’s throne, and Robert the Bruce inherited his father’s title as Earl of Carrick. He also inherited his family’s claim to the crown, a crown Edward usurped as his own. Edward’s first act as Scotland’s king had been to sack the town of Berwick, a town just north of them now, ordering his men to spare no one. Thousands were hacked to death over a two-day period; even women and children had not been spared.

  God have mercy, Kathryn was now imprisoned at Norham under English authority. And although this Edward was not the butcher his father had been, Bryan feared for her life. He had every reason to believe Rodney Carleton was at Norham, which meant her virtue was in danger as well. Bryan noted the reassuring weight of his claymore at his back and grasped the handle of the dirk on his belt, as if to withdraw it and storm the castle in his frustration.

  “It’s a trap,” Fergus said, startling Bryan back to reality.

  “So you’ve said, several times. I agree.” He released the knife and dropped his fists to his sides. “Edward and Rodney hope to lure me, and perhaps even Robert, to Norham. And see, here I am, just as they hoped.”

  Fergus’s grim expression matched his own dark humor. “Ye don’t still believe Kathryn lured ye here, do ye?”

  “Let’s just say that I would rather believe better of her.” Bryan continued, “You should return to Homelea.”

  “I’m not leaving until Kathryn is free. As ye’ve been so willing to point out, ’tis my fault Kathryn is held in yonder keep.”

  “Aye, so it is.” At the moment, Bryan wasn’t sure who he was more angry with—Fergus, for allowing Kathryn to be abducted— or Robert, for forcing him to marry her in the first place. All his fears had come to pass.

  Fergus must have sensed how tightly strung Bryan’s emotions were because he didn’t press for details of Bryan’s plan to breach the stern walls of the keep. Which showed excellent judgment. Bryan wanted desperately to hit something, and Fergus’s face was much too convenient.

  Bryan’s first instinct had been to storm the castle, but wisdom had won out. He’d waited, praying all the while that Kathryn would be safe and that whoever held her would make the mistake of moving her.

  With effort, he calmed his anger and relaxed his fists. “Well, if we can capture a mighty Scottish fortress the likes of Perth, then surely we can breach this pile of English stones.” Bryan’s words suggested far more confidence than he felt.

  Just then Thomas returned from the errand Bryan had sent him on. He walked toward them, a bundle of clothing in his hands. At Bryan’s raised eyebrow, the man winked.

  Fergus demanded, “What are ye two plotting?”

  “It seems Thomas has taken holy vows.”

  With that Thomas shook out the bundle and produced the robe and cowl of a monk. He held the coarse cloth against his body to inspect the fit and Bryan explained their plan to Fergus.

  “We will await the evening here in these woods. We cannot get any closer in daylight without being seen. In the meantime, we must prepare ropes and grappling hooks.”

  “What are ye about, my laird?”

  “Thomas will seek entrance to the castle. Even Rodney isn’t likely to deny a traveling priest a night’s lodging. Then Thomas will offer to hear confessions in return for the hospitality. Hopefully, he can gain access to Kathryn, or at least learn her whereabouts.”

  “But what of the grappling hooks and ropes?”

  “Depending on what he learns, our ‘priest’ may have to leave the castle by way of them, or allow us entrance.” Bryan just hoped this plan would work. “I would prefer to seize the lady outside the castle, but we’ll go in if we must.”

  “Let me go in as the priest,” Fergus entreated. “This is all my fault—I should be the one to take the risks.”

  “While that’s true and I appreciate the offer, someone other than Lady Kathryn might recognize you and jeopardize our plan. You’ve made an impression on Carleton himself.”

  “But I need to do something.”

  Bryan put his hand on the man’s shoulders. “When we return to Homelea, you will be in charge of Kathryn’s protection. Thomas will take most of my men and head to Stirling while I gather the castle and the village folk to take them north.”

  “Ye would trust me after what I’ve done?”

  Bryan studied him for a moment.
“Lady Kathryn can be most persuasive, can she not?”

  Fergus nodded and gave a rueful smile.

  “I think neither of us is immune to her, Fergus.”

  “We are only friends, I assure ye, my laird.”

  “I know that. I also know that you would protect her with your life. And I trust you to see to her safety despite your earlier lapse in judgment. You’ll not make that mistake again, will you?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “Good. For now, ’tis Thomas who will go to her.”

  “Aye, my laird.”

  Though he’d been furious with both Fergus and Kathryn when he learned she’d been taken, now Bryan’s only emotion was fear. Fear that he was too late. A vision of Rodney’s hands on Kathryn, of her frightened face, seared through Bryan. He could no longer wait—they must get her out of that castle.

  This would be a good time for a miracle, Lord. If you’re listening.

  AS DUSK APPROACHED, Kathryn heard the bar lifted from the outside of her door. Each time the door had opened these past two days she feared a visit from Rodney, for surely he would soon be here, if what Simon had told her was true. But it was only Peggy with a cleric whose dusty clothing proclaimed him to be a traveler.

  “This priest has agreed to hear your confession. Be quick about it.”

  As the woman left the room, the man closed the door behind her. Kathryn stared at the hooded man.

  “Lady Kathryn.”

  “I did not request a priest.”

  “Nevertheless, I am here.” The hood of his robe covered his face. He pushed the cloth away and it fell to his back. Bright red curls covered his head.

  She gasped, “You are no priest. You are Thomas—”

  Placing his finger in front of his lips he whispered, “Quiet, my lady.” He motioned her to move further from the door and when they stood before the fireplace, he reached for her hand and pressed something cool and metallic into her palm.

  Kathryn stared at her hand. A ring. Bryan’s ring. She had remarked upon its unusual design that day in the rose garden and she knew it to be his and his alone.

  “How do you come to have this ring? How fares its owner?” she pleaded.

  “The man who owns this ring and calls ye wife sent me. Bryan wasn’t sure ye would recognize me.”

  “He is well?”

  “Aye.”

  Kathryn’s heart leaped. She had feared that Bryan hadn’t come for her because of injury, or worse. But he was well. “They hope to lure him into a trap, Thomas. You must warn him.”

  “My laird is aware of a trap. He sends ye greetings and begs ye to be patient. Ye need not remain here if ye do not wish to.”

  Not wish to? Of course she wanted to leave. “He will rescue me?”

  “If ye will it, my lady. Sir Bryan will not force ye to go. I’m to instruct ye very plainly—ye are free to do as ye choose. And more importantly—I’m to repeat his exact words—‘I will make no demands upon you.’ Do ye understand his message?”

  She nodded. He would risk his life to rescue her but would keep his vow of a chaste marriage. Her decision could be made freely, without fear of consequences.

  “Ye must let him know yer desire and he will abide by it.”

  She was free again to choose. Bryan or Rodney. Scotland or England. She had made this choice once—had anything changed? Rodney, whose presence darkened a room. Bryan, the loyal and honorable knight who would come for her, risk his life for her, if she asked it of him. Would risk his life for a woman who was less than a wife.

  “My lady?”

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “I haven’t much time. Do ye wish to go, or not?”

  The choice was easy. “I will return to my husband.”

  The man didn’t smile. “Then I am instructed to take from ye some token, or some special word, to assure my laird of yer decision.”

  How could Bryan believe she would want to stay here? He obviously didn’t trust her and the knowledge pinched. “Won’t your word be good enough?”

  “No, nor even a note that might be a forgery to trick him. Sir Bryan won’t risk the lives of his men to rescue ye unless he is sure of yer desire to return.”

  She frowned as a painful insight became clear. “Does he think I conspired with Sir Rodney to lure him into such a trap?”

  The man didn’t flinch or mince his words. “We’re at war, m’lady. ’Tis possible.”

  Kathryn quelled her righteous anger, putting herself in Bryan’s place. They had a marriage in name only and a fragile relationship at best. And yet he was nearby, ready to take her back to Homelea.

  “But Bryan doesn’t really believe it or he wouldn’t come for me.” The man’s face betrayed him. “But you aren’t so sure, are you?”

  “Let me say it plain, Lady Kathryn. The man is my kin on his mother’s side. If ye betray him, the hounds of the devil himself won’t keep me from murderin’ ye.”

  Kathryn felt the blood drain from her face.

  He gentled his voice. “Now do ye wish to go, give me yer token.”

  What word or token could she send that he would recognize? Trembling, she reached into the ciorbholg at her waist. Would he recognize the combs from her hair? What could she send to convince them—to convince Bryan—that she truly wanted rescue, that she hadn’t lured him here?

  She dug through the remaining contents of the small bag and unwrapped the protective cloth around a forgotten parcel to find tiny dried flowers, the nosegay of heartsease Bryan had given her as a peace offering.

  Smiling in triumph she said, “Take this. Remind my husband of the day he gave it to me and the words we spoke. Tell him . . . tell him his coming here is proof that Adam and I are right. God does care.”

  The man grinned, a dazzling, boyish grin. “I’ll tell him. Is there anything else he should know?”

  Knowing that Bryan was undoubtedly worried that Rodney would behave badly, she said, “Please tell him I am well and have not suffered. That Lord Rodney is not in residence.”

  He seemed to ponder this information, and Kathryn feared he wouldn’t take her token to Bryan after all. Then a new thought struck her. “How will the rescue come about? Where and when?”

  “Soon. Don’t worry yerself, lass. Ye must trust Bryan. He said to keep yer wits about ye and don’t hesitate when the moment arrives.” He made the sign of the cross. “God be with ye, lady.”

  She clasped his arm. “Thank you.”

  When Thomas was gone and her door closed once more, Kathryn knelt on the floor beside her bed to pray. “Please, God. Guide me in the days to come. Let me put my trust in you, for the sake of those I love. And help me guide Bryan to you.”

  KATHRYN SPENT A RESTLESS NIGHT in constant anticipation of imminent rescue. But dawn arrived and she left her rumpled bed to wash the sleep from her eyes. As she splashed water on her face from the bowl on the table she wondered, would Bryan come today? When and how would he gain entrance to the keep?

  Peggy brought porridge, and Kathryn pushed her spoon around the wooden bowl after eating a few spoonfuls. She’d no sooner set it aside than her door burst open to reveal Rodney Carleton. A very angry Rodney Carleton, from the looks of him. And from the damp and muddy condition of his clothes, he had just arrived.

  She jumped up and backed away from him so quickly she knocked over the bench she’d been sitting on. “Rodney.” She barely squeezed the name past the tightness in her throat at the sight of the last person she wanted to see this morning.

  He gave her no time to say more. “Get ready to leave; we ride as soon as I change into dry clothing.”

  Leave? Today? How would Bryan find her? She couldn’t leave. “I will need some time—”

  “Don’t dawdle, Kathryn. Your husband has not come for you; we shall go to him.”

  Retreating further, she bumped against the bed. She forced herself to a calmness she certainly didn’t feel. “To him?”

  “You’ll be happy to hear we
are going to Homelea.”

  Kathryn couldn’t suppress the gasp of surprise that rose to her lips.

  With a gleam in his eye he said, “I have some unfinished business to attend to there.”

  Isobel. Kathryn grabbed the bedpost for support. “What business?”

  “An interesting rumor. It seems your husband may be using Homelea’s crossing to ship weapons to Bruce.”

  “Weapons?” So that was Bryan and Adam’s secret. Kathryn sat down on the edge of the bed, her knees weak with the news that Rodney did not know about Isobel after all. “Why do you need to take me along to capture weapons?”

  “You may prove valuable as a bargaining tool. He didn’t come here, so I will truss you up and dangle you right under his nose.”

  “What makes you think he’d trade these weapons for a woman he was forced to marry?”

  “I’m counting on his noble pride—he won’t allow harm to come to his own wife, no matter how he came to marry her. But you needn’t fear being forced into his arms, Kathryn. I’m not giving you up—I’ll slit his throat and we’ll be done with him once and for all.”

  “You are mad.” She didn’t doubt that Rodney would kill Bryan if given the chance. But she clung to the hope that God would not allow this evil man to prevail.

  Rodney grabbed her cloak from its peg and tossed it to her. “Enough talk. We must leave immediately before they have more of a head start.”

  “Who has a head start?” What was he talking about? Had Bryan left her instead of mounting a rescue? Had someone kidnapped Isobel as well?

  “Never mind, just get moving.”

  Simon came to the doorway and Rodney spoke to him. “Get her mounted and ready to ride.” Then he strode away while Kathryn struggled not to break down in tears.

  No, Bryan was nearby. He would not have abandoned her. Was he planning to take her from the castle somehow, or was he watching the road in hopes they would move her? But if so, surely he expected her captors to take her south, not north. Why hadn’t she insisted on getting more information from Thomas last night? Now she had no idea if she should try and delay their departure or not.

  Trust God. Aye, hadn’t she prayed last night to trust God for her deliverance? And he would use Bryan to make it happen. Comforted by the knowledge that all was in God’s hands, she walked out the door toward the bailey.

 

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