Highland Grace

by K. E. Saxon

  “Nay, I’ve just had some in the great hall,” Jesslyn replied, settling on the stool. Leaning forward, she placed her elbows on her knees and twined her fingers together, saying with care, “Daniel came down to tell us you were in your childbed time. Are you, Maryn?”

  She shrugged. “Aye,” she said in a barely audible whisper.

  Jesslyn’s heart tripped and then began beating wildly. She was not prepared for this! She looked toward the doorway and then back at Maryn. Where was Grandmother Maclean? Or Aunt Maggie? Why weren’t they here yet? She had no idea what came next or what she should do to help her friend. “Mayhap, you should be abed?”

  Dread filled Maryn’s voice when she replied, “Nay, not yet. Please?”

  Jesslyn jerkily nodded her head. “Al...All right,” she replied.

  Thankfully, Lady Maclean bustled through the doorway at that moment. “Maryn, my dear, whatever are you doing? You shouldn’t be troubling yourself with that hearthfire right now!” She strode over to stand near Maryn. “Here,” she said, placing her arm around Maryn’s thickened waist, her other hand on Maryn’s upper arm, “let me help you over to the bed; you should lie down now.”

  “Nay, Grandmother Maclean. I’m not ready to lie down just yet,” she replied, digging her heels in so that Lady Maclean couldn’t move her.

  Lady Maclean’s arm loosened. “Then let us walk around the chamber together awhile.”

  “The water is being brought up now,” Maggie said brightly as she walked through the opened doorway. “My son came down just a moment ago and I told him to take Daniel and Bao to the training fields to help Daniel work off his worry. Laird Donald went as well; I believe he’s just as distressed as Daniel.” She pressed her lips together. “My daughter-in-law is still abed, it seems,” she said, disgust in her voice.

  Jesslyn rose and took the clean tunics that Maggie held folded in her arms from the older woman and placed them on top of the chest at the end of the bed. They would wear the garments over their own gowns once the childbed began.

  Jesslyn was growing more anxious as the moments passed. The only other birth she’d been involved in had ended in death. And there had been so much blood. And screaming. A shudder ran down her spine, taking her by surprise. She cleared her throat. “Mayhap I should find my son and take him to Niall’s house for the remainder of the day. He’s sure to worry if he isn’t allowed to see me otherwise.”

  “Aye, that’s a fine idea, my dear,” Lady Maclean said as she strolled with her lumbering granddaughter-in-law away from the hearth. “You mustn’t rush back,” she said gently, a light of understanding in her eye. “Maggie and I can handle the childbed just fine on our own, if need be.”

  Maryn held out her hand toward Jesslyn. “Nay! You must be here when my babe comes! Promise me you’ll not be gone long!”

  Jesslyn’s heart twisted. No matter how fearful she was feeling, it could not compare to the fear her friend must be feeling at this moment. After all, Maryn’s own mother had died giving birth to her. She must wonder if she will survive the strain of birth this day. Jesslyn nodded. “Aye. I shall be back in a short while, worry not. I only want to see to my son first.”

  She stepped over the portal and to the side, as the three servants that had carried the buckets of water and a tub up the stairs and down the passage prepared to enter the laird’s bedchamber. A fourth and fifth filed behind the others, carrying peat and kindling. Moving past them, she hurried down the stairs and out of the keep. Her son was most likely at his and Niall’s fortress. The two lads spent most of their days there now that it had been completed. With mangonel. But they were only allowed to propel balls made of wound-up woolen hose in the weapon, much to their dismay, and her and Lady Maclean’s bliss. After both Bao and Daniel had explained the importance of such a tool to a lad’s deeper happiness, and had promised to make sure it was made in a way that it couldn’t hold anything too heavy, nor hurl very far, both Jesslyn and Lady Maclean had given their permission.

  * * *

  Bao, Daniel, Callum, and Laird Donald had decided to work on cleaning up the remains of the bonfire instead of going to the training fields. This endeavor required just as much strength and would keep them busy for the remainder of the day. They’d already removed three cartloads of wood and ash from the site, but had at least thirty more to fill before they’d see the bottom of the pile. Where embers still burned, water was used to douse the flames. Most of the warriors were given the day to rest and were either in their quarters or with their ladies, enjoying the holiday from routine. The men assigned to the gate and lookout positions on top of the curtain wall were working in four-hour shifts throughout the day, allowing all of them a bit of extra rest after the late night they’d all had enjoying the Hogmanay feast. It was still early, not yet mid-morn, and the first shift would not be relieved for another hour.

  Branwenn crossed the courtyard, intent on speaking with her brother about their newly arrived guest—and her evident kin. She’d awakened later than usual and had just come downstairs a few moments before, only to be informed that Maryn was nearing her childbed time. When Branwenn had then rushed upstairs and pounded on Maryn’s chamber door, Grandmother Maclean had forbidden her from entering the room, saying unwed lasses were not allowed to see such. The lady had then entreated her to find Daniel and Bao and stay with them.

  She was pleased to do her grandmother’s bidding, as this tangle she found herself in seemed even more urgent than Maryn and Daniel’s forthcoming parenthood. The sun cast a bright ray of light on the fresh-fallen snow that blanketed the earth, blinding her a moment. Halting her pace, she blinked several times. When her vision cleared, she saw Bao lifting a half-burned pine log into a cart. He was bare-chested! She shivered with cold. How could he stand to be so naked in this bitter weather? The man wasn’t human. And then she caught sight of Daniel and Callum. Neither one of them were wearing anything on top either! A shiver of a different kind passed through her at the sight of her too-handsome, broad-shouldered, very muscular, nearly-naked nemesis. Tipping her nose in the air, she pressed on, telling herself it had been a shiver of pure revulsion. And he did not look like the warrior in her dream last night, not one wee bit.

  * * *

  “How long have we been doing this now, do you suppose?” Daniel asked.

  Callum looked at the position of the sun. “Mayhap a half hour.”

  “Not so long, then,” Daniel said.

  Bao clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Worry not. She’s under the care of well-skilled hands. Naught bad will happen, only good. And in a short time, you’ll be holding your new bairn in your arms.”

  “That’s right, lad,” Laird Donald said, his voice robust, as if he were trying to convince himself as well, “and Maryn will be there with you. She’s a strong lass, always has been. And she’s young, as well. Not in her middle years, as her mother was when she gave birth to Maryn. That makes a difference, mark me well.”

  Daniel nodded and turned back to the remnants of the bonfire. He lifted another log from the pile and tossed it onto the cart. “I’ll not stay down here much longer. I must know how my wife fares.”

  * * *

  “Bao,” Branwenn said, motioning with a wave of her hand to get his attention. When he turned toward her, she said, “May I speak with you a moment? Privily?”

  Her brother dropped the end of the log he’d just lifted and strode toward her. “Aye? What need you?”

  With a glance past him to the others, she decided she needed a bit further distance from them, in case they could hear their voices. “Put your shirt and tunic back on and let us take a walk.”

  His eyebrows slammed together with a look of concern, but he said naught further, only turned and pulled on his clothing. Then, clasping her upper arm, he scuttled her out of the upper bailey, across the courtyard, and through the gate of the keep.

  * * *

  “I wonder what that was all about?” Callum said, staring after the retreating pa
ir.

  “Mayhap she’s angered because our grandmother will not allow her in the room with Maryn while she gives birth to our babe,” Daniel said with a shrug.

  “Aye, the lass does like to be in the middle of things,” Laird Donald said.

  A flash image of her naked, in the middle of his bed, with him straining above her tripped through Callum’s mind before he slammed a steel bulwark in place to block it. Feeling guilty and disgusted with himself, he pretended indifference with a shrug, then turned back to his task.

  * * *

  Branwenn swallowed her complaints as she hustled to keep step with Bao.

  They were halfway across the glen, going toward the wood they’d dwelled in so many moons past, before Branwenn finally spoke. Out of breath, she wheezed, but managed to say, “Bao! We can slow down now. I vow, no one pursues us.”

  He glanced over at her and slowed his pace. “Too well do I know you. There is something very amiss; I can tell by the panic in those purple eyes of yours. When we’re safe in our cave, you’ll tell me all, agreed?”

  “‘Tis much too cold to meet in that barren cave! Why can we not speak out here, where at least the sun’s warmth can reach us?”

  “Because, I want to be in a more privy place when you give me your tale. We’ll build a fire, worry not.”

  It took a while, but they managed to find enough peat turves and kindling in the cave to build a fire. They’d used the shorter route to their cave, climbing the pine tree and traversing the limestone outcropping that led to the fissure, which led to the opening of the cavern.

  The fire was barely built before Bao began his interrogation. “What has you so distraught? And don’t give me half-truths. I want it plain and brief.”

  “I met my brother last night. The one with whom I share blood—”

  “What?” he barked.

  “—is that plain enough?”

  Bao’s eyes drilled into her and he gave her a grim nod to continue.

  “His name is Reys ap Gryffyd; his mother was Gwenllian wreic Gryffyd.”

  Her brother’s brows lowered. “How?” he asked, his voice grave.

  Branwenn shrugged, enjoying herself now. Bao would take care of everything, she had no worry of that. And after the mad dash he had put her through and the rude way he had demanded she give him her tale, he deserved a bit of a blow to his arrogance. “He was our first footer. And Grandmother asked him to stay on as long as he wishes.”

  He studied her for a long moment. She couldn’t read the expression in his gaze. It was dark, guarded. When he spoke at last, he asked, “Are you glad that he’s found you?” He looked into the fire. “Pleased to find out you have real kin?”

  Branwenn dropped her chin to her knees and shrugged. “I suppose I am.” She picked up a chunk of bark that had fallen off one of the logs and tossed it into the fire. “I’ve not spoken more than a few words to him since I found out our relationship.” Shaking her head in self-disgust, she continued, “I actually swooned when he told me! Do you believe it?”

  Her brother grinned and returned his gaze to hers. His eyes were sad. “I would have loved to see that.”

  Branwenn slapped his thigh. “I’m sure you would have, you beast! I know not how Jesslyn stands you!”

  “Do not change the subject, for ‘tis not that easy to distract me,” he said gruffly. “Now, tell me why you were so panicked if you’re glad he found you.”

  Settling back in her earlier position, Branwenn said, “I don’t know why, exactly. I suppose I fear that he’ll take me from you. That I shall be forced to go with him and live in that other land that I know naught about.”

  “I will not let that happen. You’re mine. My sister. I raised you, I provided for you. And Daniel will not let that happen, either. You are his sister as well.”

  Branwenn nodded. “Grandmother Maclean would no doubt have something to say about it as well. After all, she’s set on training me in the ways of a lady. And I trow she’s already found a few prospects for husband for me that she will not be happy to give up, either.”

  Bao rose. “We should get back to the keep, then. I shall meet with this man and learn what his intentions are regarding your newfound relationship,” he said as he tossed dirt on the fire to put out the flames. Turning back to Branwenn, he grasped her hand, which she held out for him, and tugged, pulling her to her feet as well.

  “Aye, but I want to be there with you when you speak to him,” she said as she dusted off the back of her gown with her hands. “After all, it is my life you’re talking about.”

  Her brother sighed, but nodded his head in agreement. “But I shall send you from the room if you become peevish. Understood?”

  “Aye,” she answered gaily, thoroughly unconcerned with Bao’s threat.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 12

  Branwenn led Bao to the north tower where Reys ap Gryffyd was lodged. After climbing the spiral of narrow stone stairs that led to the top-most chamber, she knocked on the thick wood door that filled the arched limestone doorway to Reys’s chamber.

  Reys turned at the sound. He’d risen only a few moments past and had still to put on his shirt. One side of his face was shaved, while the other still held soap. “Aye?” he called out. As he scrubbed the remainder of the herbal lubricant from his cheek, he strode to the door and opened it, believing one of the servants was on the other side. “Oh, beg pardon,” he said to his guests, swinging the door shut once more and grabbing his shirt from the chest to put it on. When he was sufficiently covered, he opened the door again. Looking from Branwenn to the massive black-haired, slant-eyed warrior just behind her shoulder, he moved to the side and said, “Come in.”

  * * *

  Branwenn scanned the chamber. The man was certainly tidy, she thought. He’d neatly folded and stacked his clothing in the chest at the end of the bed and his shaving implements were meticulously aligned on the top of the washstand. One of the linen cloths he must have used to bathe himself earlier had been folded lengthwise and hung on its wooden rod on the back of the stand, and his crwth leaned against the corner of the recessed seat of the window. Still gazing around the place, she said lightly, “This is my brother, Bao.”

  Reys acknowledged him with a slight nod.

  Bao’s nod was curt, she noticed, and he stood with his arms crossed over his chest with his feet spread. “So you believe my sister shares your blood? What proof have you of this rather odd notion?”

  She gave Bao a questioning look, but remained silent. She’d already told him who the man’s mother had been, and the resemblance they shared to one another was quite distinct, she thought.

  “My home is Penrhos, on Ynys Môn, part of the kingdom of Gwynedd, in the land of the Cymru kings. My mother was the daughter of a pencerdd, the chief poet to Prince Owain Gwynedd. Her name was Gwenllian wreic Gryffyd.” His gaze settled on her. “Just as was this lass’s mother...and our father was Gryffyd Duy ap Kenneric, the penteulu, head of Prince Llywelyn ap Iorwerth’s uchelwyr teulu, his noble warriors,” he said the last with a bit of hesitation. His gaze returned to Bao. “My pardon, but speaking of my father is not an easy endeavor, as I lived with the broken spirit of the man for nigh on thirteen years until he took his final breath on the blood-soaked ridge overlooking the castle at Mold.” He turned to Branwenn and said, “He took a Norman arrow through his eye in their campaign to wrest the fortress from the Norman invaders’ grasp. The castle was captured, but our father paid the ultimate price.”

  Branwenn stared. “My father was the head of a Cambrian prince’s noble fighting force?”

  “Aye. And I, as well, served in the uchelwyr teulu. At least I had done, until I set out on my quest to find you.”

  She cocked her head. “How did you find me?”

  “My father learned that our mother’s body had been left at a small kirk near Duglyn. When he arrived there, the priest told him that a foreign looking lad of around ten summers had given instructions for burial and had give
n him our mother’s full name, along with her betrothal ring, should her family ever come searching for her. Even with that, it has taken years, and the backing of my liege, to find you.”

  “And now that you’ve found Branwenn, what is your aim? To take her back to Cambria with you?” Bao said, his words clipped.

  Reys nodded, “Yes—”

  “Nay!” Branwenn said loudly and moved behind Bao, clinging to the back of his tunic.

  * * *

  Bao’s heart stopped momentarily and then thrummed to life once more, beating a rapid tattoo in his chest. “Never,” he said darkly.

  “The lass is promised to one of the march lord’s nephews. She must return with me and wed the man. Prince Llywelyn has decreed it. He’s got the backing of King John of England and he needs the alliance to extend his influence further south.”

  “You had no idea the sibling you searched for was a lass—how could this prince have made a decree for her to wed?” Bao said.

  “According to the dictate, if my sibling proved to be female, she is to wed the nephew. If my sibling proved to be male, then he is to wed the niece,” Reys replied. “In either event, Prince Llywelyn intends to provide either the dowry or the bride price. That is how intent he is in this pursuit.”

  Branwenn peeked from behind Bao’s arm. “And why can you not wed this niece, then?” she asked.

  “Because I’m wed to someone else.”

  “You’re wed? Where is your wife?” she asked.

  “At home in Penrhos, taking care of my little ones.”

  She edged to the side a bit, but remained standing behind Bao. “You’ve bairns?”

  “Yes, twin girls.”

  “Twins! How many summers are they?”

  “They just past their second year not one moon ago. I’ve yet to see them, tho’ I’ve tidings they fare well,” Reys said. Bao heard sadness in his voice and that softened his anger toward the man, but there was still more to be confirmed. “How is it that my sister is sufficient to fulfill this requirement?”