Lady Gwyneth's Hope (Ladies of Ardena Book 4)

by Rachel Skatvold

  The soldier’s expression turned grim. “He was badly injured and is barely clinging to life. Come, I will take you to him.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Surrounded

  Tristan, Gwyneth and his men entered the cave the soldier led them to. There they found Leland laying on a makeshift bed made from pine branches and blankets, surrounded by his eight remaining soldiers. His face was pale and beaded with sweat, but he was shivering. He knelt by his elder cousin and felt his forehead. “He’s burning up. What happened to him?”

  The commander of Leland’s men furrowed his brow. “An arrow struck him in the side. We were able to remove it, but his condition has only seemed to worsen since then.”

  “Leland,” Tristan whispered, placing one hand on his shoulder. “Cousin, can you hear me?”

  His eyes slowly opened, searching for the voice. Upon seeing Tristan, he managed a weak smile. “I’m glad to see you are safe. I had begun to fear all was lost.” He paused and let out a few ragged coughs.

  “No, it’s not.”

  A tear dripped down Leland’s cheek. “They took Isla. I failed and now I shall never see her again.”

  “Do not speak that way. I will find her. I promise you that, but right now you need rest. We will find a physician. There has to be one somewhere in the village.”

  Leland shook his head. “No, ‘tis not safe. We have lost the element of surprise. The enemy will be looking for us.” His eyes drifted to Gwyneth briefly before turning back to smile at Tristan. “At least you found the one you were searching for. Take her away from this place now and don’t look back. Marry her and be happy. Life is too short not to be.”

  Tristan’s heartbeat quickened. “What are you saying?”

  Leland grimaced in pain. “I’m saying, I will slow you down. I might not even survive the trip.”

  He stared at his cousin in disbelief. “Leaving you is not an option. We will wait for nightfall and carry you out of here somehow.”

  Leland shook his head and blinked several times, like staying awake was a difficult task. “Please…for once…just listen to me. You must leave now, before it is too late.” His head drifted to one side and he fell asleep moments later.

  Tristan’s eyes pricked with tears as he stood and began to pace in the cave, trying to think of a solution. His cousin had been like an elder brother since childhood. He’d always been so strong and brave—someone he looked up to—the same person who had nursed him back to health after the battle of Órlaith. Then after his disappearance, Leland searched for him for two years, never giving up hope. How could he ask Tristan to leave him to die? The thought of doing so was unfathomable to him.

  When his pacing ceased, Gwyneth approached and gripped his arm. “You need to rest. It will be a long night and you’ll need all your strength.”

  “I cannot do that.” He motioned toward Leland. “Not with my cousin so ill. Not until I think of a way to transport him out of here.”

  “We could send a few men out to find long branches. Then we’ll attach a blanket somehow to make a cot. We have ten men still with us between your crew members and Leland’s soldiers. They can take turns carrying him. We’ll have to go slower and rest more often for Leland’s sake, but it will be much better than the alternative.”

  Tristan nodded. “Aye, that could work. We also have some men remaining inside the fortress walls. If they are still alive, we could signal them somehow to join us. They will provide even more protection as we return to the ship. I only pray Leland is strong enough to make the journey.”

  “He’ll make it. We just have to keep the faith. Gwyneth reached up to wipe away his tears, bringing him comfort. “Now, there are a few hours before the sunset. We’ll have plenty of time to fashion the cot. Will you please take the opportunity to rest, my love?”

  He chuckled, noting the stubborn gleam in her eyes. “If you insist. However, I must ask…will you be this demanding after we are wed?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Probably more so, if you refuse to listen to reason. After all, someone has to take care of you.”

  “Aye, you may be right.” He glanced around for prying eyes before leaning in to kiss his betrothed. However, this time she didn’t seem to mind who saw.

  By nightfall, Gwyneth was pleased to see her makeshift cot idea worked. After reinforcing the bottom with ropes, they tested it, using the largest man in Leland’s company as a weight. With two men holding the cot on both ends, they were able to carry him without his weight buckling the frame.

  They carefully transferred Leland to the cot, covering him with additional blankets to ward off the cool night breeze. The movement caused him to groan in pain, but once they had him settled, he fell back asleep.

  The journey toward the fortress was painstakingly slow in the darkness, but within a few hours they finally reached the base of the cliffs, giving them a view of the front gates and the village nearby. They took shelter under a small grove of trees, carefully lowering Leland’s cot to the ground. While the men gathered to formulate a plan, Gwyn knelt next to Tristan’s cousin, dabbing his forehead with a cloth.

  Tristan sat beside her in the darkness. “How is he faring?”

  She tucked in part of a blanket that had come loose to keep him warm. “He’s not waking as often and the fever still persists, but he’s holding on.”

  Tristan placed his hand on his cousin’s shoulder and closed his eyes, whispering a brief prayer. Then he turned back to her. “Will you do me a favor?”

  “Aye, anything you need.”

  “Please, remain here with Leland and two of his men. I need someone I trust to watch over him.”

  Gwyn sighed, realizing she’d just agreed to something that would keep her separated from the action. It wasn’t that she wanted to be in a perilous situation, but she didn’t like the thought of waiting on the sidelines, wondering if Tristan was in danger. Yet, seeing the desperation in his eyes, she didn’t have much of a choice. “I’ll take care of him while you’re gone. Just promise to be careful.”

  He agreed, pulling her in for a brief kiss before leaving with the men. Gwyneth watched him go with a pounding heart. God, please protect him. I put my trust in you.

  As Tristan approached the gates, he saw a waving torch at the top of the ramparts. His heart filled with hope, realizing at least his crew members were safe and able to let them in. There could even be a physician inside who could help Leland.

  They crept along the side of the walls, careful to make sure they weren’t being watched. Then Tristan knocked three times on the gate.

  It opened slowly to not alert any of the enemy guards. Tristan motioned for his men to follow, but the sound from a horn stopped them. A company of two dozen soldiers appeared.

  “Retreat!” Tristan yelled and they all ran away from the entrance, toward the village and away from where Leland and Gwyneth were to keep their hiding place secret. They had almost reached an overgrown area where they could lose the pursuing army. Then another company of soldiers came from the village, blocking them in. “Stand your ground,” he called, drawing his sword. “We will not surrender.”

  They stood back to back for protection. Tristan tried to think of a solution, but as the enemy drew closer, it became evident they would not leave them alive. Completely surrounded, their only choice was to fight to the death.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Battle Cry

  After all Tristan had been through in the past four years, he was no longer afraid of death. He had come so close to it before—felt its icy grip—but knew what awaited on the other side. While the world was tainted with sorrow and pain at times, Heaven would be full of joy and peace. He’d felt some of that pure contentment when almost drowning in the sea. After the pain stopped, it was as if he’d almost stepped his foot into paradise. Then someone pulled him back—returned him to the imperfect world he knew before. Tristan knew why now. He hadn’t been ready. God still had other things for him to accompli
sh before calling him home.

  Now, face to face with enemy soldiers who wanted to kill him, Tristan wondered if his time had come. The biggest fears he had were about Gwyneth and Leland. How would they escape now?

  The line of soldiers in front of him parted for someone on horseback. When he looked up, he was surprised to see it was a woman in armor, her hair blowing in the night breeze—Lady Kyna.

  Her green eyes shone in the moonlight that had chosen that moment to appear. “Look what we have here. The young heir to the Órlaithan throne. I had heard rumors of your return, but never thought I would see you here.”

  Tristan gritted his teeth. “I’ve heard rumors about you as well, Milady. One in particular about you poisoning my mother while she was with child all those years ago. You failed at killing me then and you will fail again this night.”

  “I suppose some insects are harder to squash than others. Today that failure will be remedied.” She motioned for her guards to move forward. “Kill them.”

  Tristan prepared to fight, deep down, hoping for just one opportunity to catch Lady Kyna off guard. Then a battle cry made everyone stop in their tracks.

  He watched in shock as the Daireann army came charging toward them, Lord Edmund at the helm. Caught off guard, some of Lady Kyna’s army retreated, leaving about three fourths of them to deal with.

  Tristan launched himself into the fight, clashing swords with the enemy with all the strength he possessed.

  Murtagh appeared, fending off an enemy’s advance with his cutlass. “Glad to be seein’ you alive and well, Cap’n.”

  Tristan laughed as he clashed swords with another man. “Where did you come from?”

  “When ye didn’t return I came searchin’ and met up with the Daireann Army. I figured ye would be needin’ reinforcements.”

  “Thank you, old friend. I always knew I could count on you.”

  They fought back to back for a long time. Then as the sun began to rise, Lady Kyna called for her army to retreat, but Lord Edmund and his men pursued them toward the harbor.

  Murtagh joined them and Tristan started to follow, but felt someone coming from behind him. He whipped around, clashing swords with a dark-haired warrior. He paused, recognizing his armor bore the Kielyan seal. With the knowledge they were on the same side, Tristan lowered his weapon. “May I ask your name, soldier?”

  He sheathed his sword. “Niall of Kiely and close friend of King Leland. Queen Fiona has sent me on a quest to bring him home.”

  “‘Tis an honor to meet you, Niall of Kiely. I am Leland’s cousin, Tristan of Órlaith.”

  Niall bowed in an instant. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I did not recognize you.”

  Tristan motioned for him to stand. “‘Tis understandable under the circumstances. Now, back to the matter at hand. I am sorry to inform you my cousin is gravely ill and in need of a physician.”

  Niall grabbed his satchel, eyes full of concern. “By the grace of God, you have found one.”

  “You’re a physician?”

  “Aye, please take me to him with haste.” He turned the other direction for a moment. “Sibeal will you assist me…Sibeal?”

  Tristan watched as the physician’s face turned deathly pale. “Who is it that you seek?”

  Niall raked his fingers through his hair in bewilderment. “My wife, Lady Sibeal of Aoife. She was by my side just moments ago. Her mother is the leader of the enemy army. I fear she may be trying something foolish, like convincing Lady Kyna to surrender all by herself.”

  Tristan watched the Daireann army pursuing the enemy to the sea, while thinking of a solution. “I will find your wife and bring her back safely if you’ll help my cousin.”

  Niall clenched his jaw, appearing to battle with himself over the idea. “She is very stubborn. I’m not sure if she will listen to you.”

  He nodded with a slight grin. “I understand the stubbornness you speak of. Lady Sibeal and I have known each other since childhood. Our families have been acquainted for a long time. I am confident I can convince her to return.”

  Niall finally nodded in agreement. “Very well. I will save your cousin while you save my wife.”

  Tristan shook his hand and explained Leland’s location in haste. Then they were off in separate directions, both having an important quest to complete.

  Sibeal navigated through the shadows toward the harbor, keeping a sharp eye to ensure she wasn’t spotted. During the charge, she had stayed back and hid in the brush, seeing her mother retreating.

  Guilt rippled through her for not informing Niall of her plan, but he would have never let her go. He was a wonderful and attentive husband, but he didn’t understand her complex family as well as she did. If only she could talk to her mother alone, perhaps she would come to her senses.

  Sibeal saw the opportunity she’d been waiting for when her mother appeared on the dock surrounded by her guards. When she ordered them to ready the ship, Sibeal stepped out of the shadows. “Mother,” she said, dropping her hood.

  The two guards standing with her unsheathed their swords, aiming them at her, but her mother put her hand up to stop them. Her eyes were wide with surprise as she stepped closer to Sibeal. “Stand down. She is my daughter.”

  “Please, Mother. I need you to listen to me.”

  “Daughter, what are you doing here?”

  Sibeal drew in a trembling breath and released it slowly. “I had to make sure you were all right.”

  Her mother’s jade eyes gleamed in the dim morning light and a brief smile snaked across her lips. “I was doing quite well until my new husband was slain. Nonetheless, I will make due. The rulers of Ardena may think they have won today, but I will come back stronger and more determined than ever before. You should come with me, Sibeal. I have taken back Órlaith…our homeland. I am her queen and you shall be a princess. We will no longer be under Fergus’ thumb.”

  “Órlaith is not ours to rule, Mother. Tristan is the true king. I do not intend to be on the wrong side again.”

  Her mother scoffed. “So, you have chosen to oppose me then. Has your new husband influenced you in this direction…to go against your own flesh and blood?”

  Tears pricked Sibeal’s eyes, realizing how far her mother had fallen in her reasoning. She only had one last thing to say, praying it would turn her around. “I’ve been happy, Mother. Happier than I’ve ever been. I have a loving family, a home and a new faith in God.” She chuckled softly in spite of the situation. “I’m even learning to cook…not without a few mishaps, but it makes me happy.”

  “You may think you are happy, Daughter, but you could have so much more. More riches and power than you ever dreamed of.”

  Sibeal shook her head as a rogue tear dripped down her cheek. “I already have more than I dreamed of.” She paused to place both hands on her abdomen. “I’m expecting a child. Niall doesn’t know yet. I didn’t even know until we started our journey across the sea. On all the voyages you and Father took me on as a child, I never became seasick, save this voyage. I am certain of it now and you were the first person I wanted to share this news with.”

  Her mother didn’t say a word at first, but continued to stare at her with a stoic expression. Then she stepped forward, her eyes softening. She cupped Sibeal’s cheek in her palm. “I am happy for you. Heirs are a gift and our royal bloodline will live on through your children.”

  Sibeal smiled through her tears. “I knew you would be pleased. I want my child to know their grandmother.”

  Commotion erupted behind them and it became clear the Daireann soldiers were breaking through her defenses.

  Her mother turned to her with a look of desperation and a hint of sadness. “Sibeal, as much as I desire that, we are on opposing sides of a war and I don’t believe either of us is willing to yield.” She hugged her and then started backing up toward the ship. “Goodbye, my daughter.”

  “Mother, wait!” she called, heart breaking, but it was too late. Some of the Daireann forces broke
through and her guards hurried her on board to depart.

  Daireann soldiers rushed past her and Sibeal’s vision began to swim. Her world seemed to tilt on its end as her knees buckled. She clutched her abdomen in a desperate attempt to protect her growing child if she hit the ground.

  At the last moment, two strong arms cushioned her fall and Sibeal felt herself being carried away from the chaos on the docks. She drifted in and out, watching as the hues of the orange and pink sunrise faded from the sky, along with her hope of saving her mother. She had failed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  A New Dawn

  Leland drifted in and out of consciousness as the pain from his wound came in waves. It was dark whether he closed his eyes or kept them open. He felt a comforting hand holding his—heard the blast of a horn and then a battle cry later. The sounds all blurred together and the pain from his wound came in waves.

  Then something changed. The pain faded and light came in flashes. Soon the light turned into blurry images and slowly came into focus. He saw the mountains in Kiely—playing with Tristan there in the woods when they were younger. He saw his mother with Isla as a newborn. A few flashes later, his sister was grown and their mother was taking her to Órlaith. The memories were all so bittersweet with his mother passed on and Isla captured. Would his family ever be whole again?

  The next images he saw were more vivid and lifelike. He was walking through the gates of Kiely Fortress. He came up the path and through the courtyard. His breath caught in his throat, not believing what he saw.

  “Papa!” Clare called, her chestnut curls bouncing in the breeze with Artair following close behind.

  He lifted his daughter into his arms and held her tight, unsure of what was real or imagined. Leland patted his dog on the head. Then he walked with Clare to where Fiona waited for him on a nearby bench, holding their newborn bundled in a warm blanket.