by Kara Griffin
The man bowed his dark-haired head to them and opened the door wider. Kerrigan always thought of the clergy as aged priests, but this man was younger and had a smooth face.
“Friar Hemm, we need a place to rest for a few minutes.” Graeme motioned her forward.
“Aye, your squire, Gilroy, came last eve and told me you might stop by. Did ye fall into a bog, my lord? Aye, you’re dirtier than a pig’s sty.”
“We rode a good distance, through the night. We’re sorry to come in such condition, Friar. Will ye allow us take rest?”
The man nodded and waved them forward. “Of course, come inside.”
Kerrigan had never been inside an abbey. The confines were lavishly adorned with many religious objects and relics. She wanted to touch the statue of the blessed Mother, but her hands were busy holding the bairn.
“I did not know you married, Cameron. Ah, and your wife has a bairn. Blessed be. God has given ye good fortune.” The friar nodded and continued to walk in a slow gait toward a large hall.
“I wouldn’t say that, Friar Hemm. I deem God has sent misfortune my way.”
Kerrigan elbowed his arm for that wretched comment to which he winked at her.
Graeme stopped at a table and poured a cup of wine for her. When she couldn’t manage to take it from him, he set the cup down and took the babe from her.
Relieved of the duty, she hastily grabbed the cup and drank down the drink. Her parched throat cooled. She’d never tasted such sweet wine before. It was delicious. How she wished for more, but refrained from asking lest the friar consider her rude.
Kerrigan set the cup down on the table and watched Graeme, who held the babe tenderly in his burly arms. Never had a man looked as appealing as he, holding the small babe even in his unkempt state. Her breath stilled and for the life of her, she couldn’t move. That was until he jostled the bairn and almost dropped it.
“Careful, it’s not a sack of wheat.” She was about to take the babe back when he shook his head.
Graeme rocked the babe in the crook of his arm and sang, “Summer has come in, loudly sing, Cuckoo, the seed grows in the meadow and blooms, and the woods spring anew. Sing Cuckoo. The ewe bleats after the lamb—”
Kerrigan threw her palm over his lips. “Sing no more. That is not a song to be sung in such a pious place, nor one to a bairn.” Awkward silence came between them because she had never been as forward with a man. Her cheeks heated at the thought she’d purposely touched him, his mouth, and even lingered for a moment. If her racing heart was any indication, she might even admit she enjoyed touching him.
Friar Hemm chuckled. “It ceased crying. Well done, my lord.”
He laughed and hastily handed the babe back to her. “My ma used to sing that song to me. I’ve been around children from time to time. Och, Friar, pour me a goodly amount. I’m thirsty and have need of this drink.” Graeme took the cup after the friar filled it to the rim, and downed several gulps. “He makes the best wine in the land, enough to dull one’s senses if they have a need. Aye, and I surely do.”
“Ah, my lord, you say that because ‘tis true.” The friar smiled. “None make as fine a wine as we, here at the abbey. Now tell me your news, for you always have tales to bring.” He sat in a chair near the fire and banked it with a long iron rod.
Kerrigan waited until Graeme bid her to take a seat. She chose the closest chair to the fire and cuddled the babe on her lap. With Graeme’s deep burr of speech and his persistent gaze on her, she closed her eyes. She continued to heat within from his attention.
“If it be your wish, I can marry you this morn, before you go.” There was a humorous lilt to the friar’s voice.
“I just met the lass. We have no wish to wed.”
The friar snickered. “Nay, are ye certain, my lord? There is something betwixt you two.”
“She put herself in the midst of a war. I had to abscond with her before she was found and killed.” Graeme said and pointed at her. “When we arrived, we saw a woman at the entrance. The woman left the bundle there outside the door.”
“That be the second bairn left on our doorstep this week. You’ll have to take it with ye, because we have no accommodation for a wee one. We are engrossed in our studies and cannot allow distractions. The Archbishop is expected in a fortnight and all the brothers are diligent.” The friar motioned to a lad who stood near the buttery. Another lad returned with a container and handed it to the friar.
Kerrigan opened her eyes and frowned at the clergyman. How could he be so unfeeling? She was about to protest when Graeme gave her a look of discontent. The babe’s wails became more deafening and even though she tried her best to soothe the wee one, nothing seemed to work.
The friar set a strange cover over the container and handed it to her. “For the babe, ‘tis but goat’s milk. It should abate the wee one’s hunger at least for a time.”
“I understand, Friar Hemm, we’ll take him with us when we go.” Graeme told the friar his news, most of which was uninteresting to her, and mostly of political dealings.
She gazed at the babe and wondered what would become of it. What with her pledge to Laird Moray and the predicament she found herself in, she had no means to take care of it. As she set the container near the babe’s mouth, it suckled the liquid and seemed to be content. The bairn’s cries ceased and there was a grateful silence within the chamber.
“If the men come to inquire of me, tell them I’ve gone home.” Graeme rose and motioned to her. “I will meet them there. Be sure to send someone with my message for James Douglas. I need to see him posthaste. Be sure to tell him to meet me in the village, at Rohan’s.”
“I shall, my lord. I’ll send one of the lads straight away. Safe travels and God keep ye.” The friar rose and made off behind a door.
When they reached outside, the sun rose and a new day dawned over the land. Kerrigan wanted nothing more than a few hours of sleep, but with the bundle she held, it was likely a few minutes she’d get.
“Where is this home? I should leave you and be gone myself.” She thrust the bairn into his arms and he looked at her as if she’d grown horns.
“We live close by. I cannot allow you to leave me now. What is your name?”
She was ready to march off and forget this night ever happened. Even though she needed his aid in her promise to Laird Moray, she didn’t want to involve herself in his own perils. If he was one of the king’s guards and he was intent on warring, he was a dangerous sort. One she shouldn’t consort with.
“Will you not at least tell me your name?” Graeme set the babe against his chest and seemed at ease to wait for her answer.
She should’ve run, fled the courtyard, and not look back. But something held her there, and she wasn’t certain if it was the look of despair in Graeme’s eyes or the need of the bairn or the warmth that settled in her belly. With a grated sigh, she approached him.
“Kerrigan.”
“You’ll not leave me now, Kerrigan, will ye? Not when I need you, lass?” His words deepened and his eyes implored her.
She couldn’t tear herself away. He was striking, even though soot still covered his face. His eyes were a rich shade of brown with a reddish tinge to them, which darkened when he turned serious. The stance of his body suggested he was at ease, but his musculature was evident in the way his legs braced and the wide set of his shoulders. What fascinated her most about him was the way his dark-flaxen hair curved his face. She longed to run her fingers through it to see if it felt as soft as it looked.
Why did he have to use that sultry tone or gaze? No woman could resist such a plea. What was she to do? “I have need of the king’s guard’s help. If you assist me in my pledge to Laird Moray, then I’ll help you find the bairn’s mother.”
Graeme handed the babe to her and nodded. “I hesitate to parlay with you, but must agree. If you assist me with the bairn, I’ll help ye. What was Laird Moray’s request?”
Kerrigan swallowed hard. Would he balk at su
ch a request? The dangers of such a task wouldn’t daunt him, at least she hoped not. “I am to find and retrieve the lord’s son, Andrew. He was taken prisoner by the English in a siege not long ago. Laird Moray wants him kept in safety until the new king can return him to his birthright.”
“The hell you say.”
Chapter SIX
Leading to the stone arch that flanked a low-lying rocky wall, the grasses grew high. Spring neared and soon the land would warm from the sun’s rays. Graeme disliked the heat of the spring and summer, but without a home at present, the fair weather was welcomed. He nudged his horse through the canopy of trees and continued to ride through the thick woods until he reached the hills stretched over the land. The cave they’d made their home was located near the third hillock. Luckily most were wary of the area because the hills were made into burial chambers and ossuaries.
Some risked their necks when they came with pagan offers for the dead. The clergymen would condemn them and the person would be hanged for such an offense. Many continued to hide their religious beliefs except for the elders who continued to practice the old customs regardless of the dangers.
He dismounted and helped Kerrigan from the horse. With his hands on her waist, he flinched at the wayward thoughts riddling him. The woman was slight, dainty even, and undeniably beautiful. He hadn’t seen her face uncovered yet in the light of day, for she still had soot over her skin. He could tell she had a pretty face, and he’d soon see it for himself. Her curly blonde hair fell well past her shoulders and bonnie blue eyes alluded to her beauty. She was a complication he didn’t need or want, but then neither was the bairn.
She continued to hold fast to the babe and looked around at the scenery. “I do not see a cave. Must we walk from here?”
He grinned and recalled her look of affront when he’d told her he resided in a cave. “The entrance is there, behind the vines of the tree. Come.” He held the vines and allowed her to pass.
“My lord, you’ve come,” Gilroy said, as he stood near the table. “All has been set to right. There is plenty of foodstuff and I was able to purchase ale. I rolled the barrel all the way here from the village. It were difficult, and I didn’t think I’d be able to do it.” The lad gawked at Kerrigan as he waited for instruction.
“Go and stand guard outside. The others will return soon. See to my horse and make ready to see to the other’s horses when they come.”
“Aye, m’lord.” Gilroy bowed and hastened out without another word.
Graeme walked spryly into the cave and went to light a fire in the makeshift hearth. Once that was done, he lit several candles on the trestle table they’d erected near the center of the large chamber.
Home. It was a safe place, at least, to rest his head and body. It was as far as could be from the lavish home where he’d been raised. The keep was being rebuilt after it took toil after a skirmish they’d had with their rival the Mackintoshes. He wondered if they’d completed the repairs, but he wouldn’t find out for many years.
Graeme motioned her forward, but she stood still taking in the large hallowed out chamber. He’d given little thought to Moray’s request of her. If he were to aid her, it would probably lead him back to Robert, the Bruce, and that was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t be found until Robert was ready to allow their return or release them from their duty. That might take a long time if ever.
“This is unexpected. You’ve furnishings, not many, but enough.”
He went to his trunk and pulled out two tunics and turned back to her. “We must speak about this … none must ken our location. I will have your vow to tell no one.”
She approached and set a hand on his forearm. “You have it and may trust me. I know the danger you are in. I’ve heard tell how you help others and are likely being pursued.”
If word reached Robert they ignored his command to stay on the isle, they would be pursued. Worse, they’d be condemned to death for treason against the English king. Graeme firmed his jaw and needed to stress the urgency of his command.
“We cannot risk the danger of being found. It could mean our deaths. Do you understand?” He touched the side of her face and tilted her chin to look into her eyes. Honesty was there, a trait he admired. Yet, he didn’t know her well enough to trust her and he refrained from telling her the truth of his matters.
“I do, Graeme. You may have faith in me. I shall tell none about this place or of you. You’ll help me find the wee Andrew and for that I am indebted to you.”
He gave a nod. If anyone was indebted it should he, for she’d help to find the bairn’s mother. His task, although more dangerous, would prove easier. “I will return shortly. Stay here.”
Outside, he grabbed a large bucket, and ventured toward the stream that ran along the trees in the distance. Gilroy sat on a branch in a nearby tree, one with few leaves on it. He should warn the lad to take heed and try to hide himself more if he was going to be on watch. In a dash, Graeme hastened to the water and filled the bucket. On his return, he spotted his comrades riding over the first hillock. They’d returned safely. He worried for them, but knew his friends were more than capable at arms.
“Graeme, where’d ye go? We thought ye met your end at Methven and searched for ye.” Liam jumped down from his horse’s back and clasped his arm in greeting. “We stopped by to see Friar Hemm, but he left the abbey.”
“It is a long story, best told inside. How did ye fare?”
Liam scoffed and shoved Heath. “We dispatched at least fifteen men before the Bruce arrived. We saved Robert twice though from foes and were able to abscond before he discerned we were there. I don’t suspect he noticed us. He was a might busy.”
Heath laughed. “The fracas arduous and we left before we were noticed. Robert looks well enough. I ran into my father when he fought a man off the Bruce.”
“How is the Fraser? I’m surprised he’s given his sword to the cause.”
“He’s aged, och he’s still a worthy soldier. I haven’t seen my da in two years. We talked for only a few minutes when I rejoined the battle. The English fared better than we though. The Bruce’s army will need to tend their wounds before he takes them to arms again.”
Graeme was glad to hear their escapade went off without a hitch, and at least the king was safe for now. “Come, we should get inside. What have ye there?”
Brodin hefted a good-sized boar over his shoulder. “Did a bit of hunting on our return. We’ll have a scrumptious supper this eve. We worked up a hunger.”
“Gilroy, take the horses and see to their care. When you’re through, come and get food.”
The young squire took the leads of Liam’s horse and directed him to another nearby cave where they kept their horses. Graeme didn’t want to let their horses roam free amongst the hills, and he couldn’t have them within their quarters. For their protection, it was best they also remain hidden.
“Before we go in, I should explain …” But Graeme didn’t know where to begin. “There’s a woman …”
“Ah’s” came from his comrades.
“Nay, ye don’t understand.” Before he could further explain, his comrades bellowed with laughter.
Heath punched his arm. “We hail off to war and you to a warm bed. Is that the way of it?”
Graeme grimaced at their jest. “That lad in the mead hall, the one that surveyed us … he was a she, and I found her in Methven’s woods. I had to get her out of there before the battle began.”
Liam chuckled. “Aye, you certainly did. And where did ye hail off to? A warm bed?”
“Nay, you arses. I took her to the abbey and there … Never mind. Come. You’ll see for yourself.” Graeme led the way inside. He spotted Kerrigan walking and rocking the bairn.
His comrades stood stock-still and watched the scene before them. None of them spoke a word. She’d done the impossible and rendered his friends speechless, a miracle, that.
“Kerrigan, come and meet my comrades.”
She approac
hed and thrust the babe at him. “It won’t cease crying, Graeme. I don’t know what to do. Take it.”
Graeme hefted the bucket and indicated he was unable to help. Kerrigan frowned at him. She turned toward his men and with a curtsey, she bowed her head and when she rose, she smiled.
His comrades each pushed each other to stand before her. They all spoke at once.
“My name’s Brodin, my lady, aye from the Clan Grant.”
“I’m Liam of the Kincaids. Are you Graeme’s lady?”
“Don’t mind them, milady. I’m Heath of Clan Fraser. It has been a while since we’ve been around a bonnie woman. They’ve no manners around ladies. We’re honored to meet ye.” Heath managed to make his way to the forefront of the crowd and bowed. Of all of them, he was the most chivalrous.
Graeme would’ve laughed at their ill-gotten manners, but Kerrigan looked waylaid by their overzealous welcome. “Stand aside. This is Kerrigan. She’s from Bothwell.”
“Ward to Laird Moray,” she said low.
Their silence was palpable. Graeme raised a brow at her statement. He wasn’t aware Moray had a ward, for he’d never mentioned such. If she were his lover, he’d probably claim her as a ward so no others would get ideas. Moray was a sneaky man and likely hid the lass away. No wonder he’d never seen her before as many times as he’d visited Bothwell.
“She wishes our aid in a promise she made to him. We’re to find his son, Andrew, and give him over to the new king. In return, she will help me find the mother of this bairn, who we found at the abbey this morn.”
A hawk with a wide wingspan couldn’t have knocked them over for a still as they stood. Their tongues held firmly behind their teeth. He suspected his comrades wanted to comment about their task, given they needed to hide from said king. He’d definitely hear their conjecture in private, certain they’d vehemently object.
Graeme walked to the table and set the bucket upon it. “We should wash the soot from our faces. I deem we’re scaring the poor lass.”
At once his comrades fled to the table and washed their faces and necks. He did the same and when he finished, he donned a freshly laundered tunic and took the bairn from Kerrigan. She watched them with wide eyes and remained quiet. Graeme took pity on her, for he would be daunted if he were a woman in the presence of unknown men too. He placed the babe on the floor near the table on a spread-out tartan and turned to find his friends scrutinized him.
