Conquered Heart (Legend of the King's Guard Book 1)

by Kara Griffin

  “I do not ken, och it was close. If it wasn’t for the sheriff, I likely would have. ‘Twas a damned shame the sheriff was her father and sent me off to the Bruce. My father was pissier than an ornery oxen. Never seen him so angry.”

  Heath raised a brow. “Well, ye all have me floundering here, because I’ve never had a problem with the lassies.”

  Brodin shoved his arm. “Nay? How’d ye end up in the Bruce’s service?”

  “I’d rather not say. Graeme, you should follow your heart. Aye, if she means that much to ye, don’t let her go.”

  They became quiet then, and Graeme considered what they’d told him. There was much more to their revelations and one day they might reveal their secrets. He would decide what to do with Kerrigan when the time came, for now he’d enjoy her company.

  Time whittled by and he considered leaving when the door burst open and a lone figure dressed in black appeared. He stood in the doorway with his swords drawn, his stance rigid as if he expected an ambush. His gaze fell on them and his swords rose in defensive holds. Graeme recognized the fellow. His black hair gave him away, for none had hair as pitch as he.

  Graeme was the first to rise with his sword drawn, his comrades followed suit. Heath and Brodin ran forth and struck their swords against the intruder’s. One within seconds of the other. The man had each of them lying on the floorboards, unaware they’d been thwarted. Liam ran at the man, his sword rang a few times, before the man punched him in the face. He too joined his comrades on the floor.

  The man fought akin to a barbarian. His reputation struck fear into most men, for no one wanted to fight the Black Douglas. Graeme peered at him from the nearby table. True to his nature, he garbed himself as a contentious warrior and wore mostly black, little mail covered his chest or arms. He wore not one, but two swords at his sides and likely hid a fair amount of other weapons on his person.

  The commotion rousted the sleepy/drunken patrons, but when they saw the fight ended, they went back to their slumber. Rohan scoffed and tossed his wiping cloth on a nearby table and made himself scarce.

  The standoff didn’t last long and Graeme lowered his sword. “I’ll be damned. You came.”

  “Aye, ye will be damned. Pour me a drink.” His boots clipped the floor, and he shoved Liam, who took a seat at the table they’d occupied, so he could sit on the bench. “You risk much sending for me. Still, I delighted sparring with your comrades. You, on the other hand might give me a wee bit of a challenge, for I’ve seen firsthand your skill.”

  “If ye need practice with swords, we’d oblige.”

  James tilted he head. “Aye? Mayhap I’ll take ye up on the offer. When I received your message, I laughed my arse off for at least an hour. Never expected to hear from you.”

  “You would.” Graeme motioned to a serving lass for a cup. When handed it, he poured his friend a drink. “James, welcome.”

  “You do know if Robert finds ye, you’ll all be killed for he’s never abided with those who disobey his commands.” James drank down the drink in seconds and motioned for more. “This swill taste like piss.”

  Rohan, who’d been spying on them, ducked behind the wall at James’ displeasure of the drink. Graeme was about to call to him and make introductions, but it appeared Rohan would rather not meet the illustrious man.

  “Aye, we do our peril. You won’t give us away, will ye?”

  James Douglas fingered his dark beard and belched. “Why should I? You protect Robert, and I’ve sworn to do anything to aid him. He has my fealty. Does he have yours?”

  Graeme motioned to help himself to more drink. “Of course he does. We have followed him and struck targets before he gets there. We only ensure he makes it through the battles and we remain unseen. Methven was difficult as the battle was disordered.”

  “Aye, it was. It aides him more than he knows, having you at his back or at his front as ye say. I was surprised to learn you returned. Of all of Robert’s guard, you were the most trusted to do your duty. I never thought you’d refute his order and leave that isle. Och I won’t speak a word of you to him.”

  “Good, have you word of forthcoming battles? We mean to see to it his hide is protected. The young army he travels with is incapable of protecting him with his ardent nature. I swear, Robert takes risks and doesn’t cover his own back.” Graeme refilled his own cup, thankful they’d been served ale instead of mead.

  His comrades came to and rejoined them. None of them would dare bring James to task for his attack. Their dark comrade was known for being abrupt and relished a good ambush, lest the reason they should’ve been ready and expected it.

  “It is a task all of us must endure, protecting Robert’s back. He felt badly, ye ken.”

  Graeme raised a brow. “About leaving us to exile?”

  “Aye, aye. He mentioned it several times since his return. He said all he could envision was your dejected faces when ye learned of his misdoing. Robert swore to return and retrieve ye, and that he changed his mind och the boat already left the bank. He says ye haunt him much akin to Wallace. The Bruce wears his heart on his sleeve these days. I had to talk him out of returning for you.”

  Brodin shot him a dark glance. “Why the hell would ye do that?”

  “Edward’s army was close by and he would’ve been caught. We were on our way to Scone. His crowning was of more import. Nay, you were better off returning on your own. This is a much better plan.”

  “It’s true then? He’s been made king?” this came from Heath.

  James leaned forward and motioned for them to do the same. “Indeed, crowned by the Countess of Buchan herself. Now listen, all of you. Robert heads north to gather more men for his army. He means to reach his allies, the Campbells. He’s lost a good many men at Methven and means to recoup his losses. We leave early next month. I’ll send word when we advance. I expect ye to follow and protect the king. We’ll trek through hostile territory. Aye, the Bruce’s own enemy, the MacDoughalls, want naught more than to get their hands on him and serve his head to Edward.”

  “When is the next battle or is it undecided?”

  “The Bruce is considering attacking the MacDoughall’s when the weather warms. Might as well squelch them since we shall pass through their lands.” James belched and slammed his cup on the table. He leaned back. “Aye, this is terrible business, for he wants nothing more than to crush all those who oppose him, and that begins with all Comyn supporters.”

  “Does he mean to gain acceptance by doing so?” Graeme dismayed at this news, for his king would risk all. It was a gamble, one that surely wouldn’t be easy to win.

  “He deems if he can defeat those against him on Scottish soil, beating the English will be easier. His greatest wish is to unite all the clans, even those from the north.”

  “We have vowed to protect the king, but you have our word. We will blend in with Robert’s men and protect him during the battle. Send word to Friar Hemm when all is ready.” Graeme offered their friend the fare that sat on the trencher in the center of the table. He was hungry, so he took up a leg of mutton and set about eating it.

  James’ dark brows furrowed. “It’s been hell having to watch him every second. He would be relieved to know you protect him. I will not tell Robert you are here, but I’m damned glad.”

  “Glad enough to do a favor in return?”

  His friend laughed. “What favor?”

  Brodin banged his cup. “This is not something James should concern himself with.”

  “I only want him to gather information for us. James, I need to find Laird Moray’s son, Andrew. He was taken in a siege by the English. I need to know where he is.”

  “I have a few young lads that can ferret information. I’ll set them to the task and let you know when I learn something. Moray was injured in our battle last month. The Bruce and he talked about his son and his ward, and Moray bid him to protect them. Robert will see to them, eventually. Moray’s men took him home and didn’t look like he’d surv
ive.”

  Graeme’s hold of his cup tightened at that news. The Bruce knew of Kerrigan. Once he found the wee lord, he’d definitely let her go to the king. That fact constricted his chest, for he wasn’t certain he wanted to let her go now or ever.

  “Moray’s dead. I made a vow to return the lad to his birthright. When we do find and apprehend him, we’ll send him to you. You’ll keep him safe and have Robert do what’s right and return his birthright when he wins these damned wars with England?”

  James bellowed with laughter. “When he wins? Ah ye have as much faith as I do in our king. Aye, Robert will win, I’ve no doubt. Before he does, I mean to make certain those who stole my land pay dearly even if I must destroy my own keep.”

  “You’ll ruin your home at the expense of your birthright?” Graeme was astounded by his standpoint.

  “Aye, damned right I will. Better it lay in a heap on the ground than anyone but a Douglas occupies it. When I returned to Scotland after my tutoring, I found my home engaged by the English. I went before Edward, got down on my fucking knee and swore fealty to him. I appealed and pled for the return of my lands. When he heard who my father was, he denied me, the swine shite.”

  “Did ye believe he’d return it?” Graeme asked.

  “Aye, I did. My fealty was for naught. Even though I gave my word, he stabbed me in the back. Then I met the Bruce, and I decided he was the best means to my end. No matter what happens, even if I don’t regain my lands, I am gladdened I took up the Bruce’s charge. He is more worthy a king than any of the others.” The Douglas was firm and would seek vengeance on those who besieged his home and lands.

  Graeme nodded firmly, because his friend was obviously ardent about his connection to the Bruce, as much as they were. “We will do everything in our power to ensure the Bruce’s safety. You have our word, James.”

  “Meet me at the abbey a day or two hence and I shall give you news then. Mayhap I’ll have word of the wee Moray. With the Bruce’s passion, all our enemies will wish they’d never taken England’s side.”

  His fervent words struck a chord in his comrades who grunted and raised their cups.

  “To claiming victory,” Graeme said.

  To claiming victory, they said in unison.

  *****

  A clang of metal awoke her. Kerrigan dozed off after tossing and turning for the last few hours. Many worries filtered through her mind, most of which how she was going to find the bairn’s mother. What would happen to her and her attendants once Graeme found the wee lord? Would he oust them and demand they leave the protection of the cave? She could think of no safe place to take refuge if he did.

  Along with those concerns, she wondered what was going on with Galyn, because she’d never been so distraught. Her friend’s dismay had more to do with than an inattentive love. There was more to her friend’s words than she let on, and Kerrigan wanted to find out what that was. But Galyn wouldn’t be forthcoming and getting her to divulge her confidences would be difficult.

  Kerrigan sat up and pulled the covers to her chest. The sound of swords strikes came again, and she got to her knees. Foes were outside the cave. As fearful as she was, she slunk forward and stood in bare feet by the cave entrance. Apprehensively, she pulled aside the vines and saw Graeme and his men in the clearing before the entrance.

  They were garbed in black and all covered their skin. Graeme called a halt, and they fell to the ground and used their hands to push their bodies above the ground. The site awed her for they had strength and endurance. After several minutes of the activity, Graeme called another halt, and the men moved to a tree where they pulled themselves up on a branch.

  She stepped out of the cave, leaned against the vines, and watched. How she wished she had such strength, and likely she couldn’t pull herself up once, let alone the amount of times they had. After they finished with the tree, they moved beneath the tree canopy and Graeme went against Brodin, and Heath went against Liam.

  Her mouth hung open as they wrestled and performed maneuvers she’d never seen. Graeme, winded from the exercises, turned and noticed her standing outside the cave. He called an end to their training.

  “I’m sorry, lass, if we awakened you.” He walked toward her and before she knew what was happening, he took her into his arms.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  He nodded and set her upon a soft patch of grass next to the cave entrance. “Your toes will get cold, lass, walking outside without shoes.”

  She gazed at her feet, yet her feet weren’t cold at all. His touch heated her, and she grew warm, recalling how her body slid against his when he’d allowed her to stand.

  “Kerrigan?”

  She came out of her reverie. Her bare feet were the least of her worries, for the men stepped hastily toward her and it was all she could do to get out of their way. They said not a word as they bolted past her and entered the cave. She stood alone with Graeme.

  When she could speak without sounding overwhelmed by them, she asked, “Is that what you meant by training at night?”

  “It is what we do. If we woke you …”

  “Do you find it helpful?” She thought it odd they would train at night, given most battles took place during the hours of lightness.

  “We practice an ancient method of warfare.”

  He sat back against a tree and tugged off his tartan. The fabric of his tunic pulled taut against his chest. Kerrigan wished she had the courage to reach out and touch him. She longed to feel his musculature and hardness. He was a man of war and weapons and had the body of a warrior. She’d tended many similar men’s wounds, but none compared to the man sitting before her. Nor had she ever wanted to touch any of them that was until she met Graeme.

  She sat next to him, perplexed by his practice. “Ancient? I don’t understand.”

  He grinned as if what he was about to tell her was most secret. “My grandda used to tell me stories about this tribe in Germania. They wanted to overthrow the Roman soldiers who occupied their land. So a man named Arminius trained his tribe to use the night to aid them. We use the same methods to take our enemies by surprise.”

  “It is clever. I assume you have tried these methods?”

  “We have. We even use the soot and oil on our swords and cover our shields with it so nothing can be seen in the darkness. It helps us to be invisible. The least our enemies know of us, the better.”

  “You are extremely frightening in such garb and I would gather your enemies would deem so as well.” Kerrigan reached out and swiped her fingers across his face.

  “It is necessary to present such a mien. There is nothing akin to fear in defeating your foes. We are usually the first in on a battle, before the fighting even begins, oft in the dark, and we must disappear before morn comes.”

  Kerrigan was fascinated. “Why must you flee? Oh, I understand. You cannot be found. If someone recognized you, you would be pursued. Is that right?”

  “Aye. That is correct.”

  “I am verily curious of what you’re running from.” She placed her hand against his neck, and caressed the heat of his skin, and the slickness of the cover-up.

  Graeme pulled her against him. He tilted her face back. “If I told ye, lass, I’d have to kill you.”

  She smiled even though his words should have frightened her. “As curious as I am, I believe I can forget this conversation ever happened.”

  He grinned and kept his eyes fixed on hers. She leaned upward and set a gentle kiss on his lips, but didn’t want a gentle kiss and hoped he would take her hint. She wanted all of him, without restrictions, without consequences.

  With him so close, she wouldn’t lose the opportunity to kiss him as she wanted. She pulled him closer and held his face to better position herself. Using her mouth, she swamped him with a hot-blooded kiss, one that would surely let him know of her desire.

  When he pulled back, he frowned. “I am more assuredly the one in danger here because I cannot resist the desire to kiss you
for the rest of the night. My honor disallows me to do so. But I hope that kiss was unforgettable.”

  “Everything about you is unforgettable.”

  Graeme rose and helped her to stand. “We should get rest. Morn will be here soon and the others will rise.”

  Kerrigan hid her disappointment and followed him into the cave. She noticed his comrades washed and already set their bedrolls and settled to sleep. Graeme set about washing. He said nothing more. With a dampened cloth, she wiped her face and hands, and sighed at the thought she washed away their kiss. This night, she wouldn’t get any sleep, not with all her worries, and certainly not because of the kiss they shared.

  Chapter NINE

  Kerrigan often slept like the dead. No one could roust her early, at least before the sun rose. It was a habit she’d had since she was wee. She opened an eye and spied the chamber and heard the noise of the occupants. Annag banged the pot she set upon the fire. Finley sharpened the spear he used for fishing. The French woman sat, nursed the bairn, and hummed softly. Gruff tones of Graeme and his men sounded from across the large chamber.

  It was then she noticed the fire pit in the center of the room. Stones encircled it and smoke drifted to the high peak of the cave’s roof. There was a small amount of light where a hole allowed the smoke to filter through. From her vantage point the cave felt as vast as the great halls of Edinburgh and Stirling.

  She didn’t want to awaken and closed her eye. Kerrigan was content to listen to the surrounding sounds. The noise drifted and became quieter. Someone touched her shoulder.

  “Lass, are ye awake?”

  She recognized Graeme’s voice. “Hmm. I’m trying to.”

  “’Tis time to open your eyes.” Graeme chuckled and shook her shoulder. “Are ye that tired? The day is half gone.”

  “Nay,” she said grumpily, and sat up. “I’m awake. What is it?”