by Kara Griffin
He stopped and dismounted and unsheathed his sword. With hasty steps he reached James. The Douglas lay on the ground rolling to and fro. His laughter sounded almost maddened.
“What is wrong with him?” Heath asked.
Graeme had no answer. James continued to bellow, shouted expletives and seemed not to know the fight was over. He grabbed one of the soldiers who rode with James, clasped him and drug the man to stand near his leader.
“Has he gone addled?”
The soldier shook his head and looked dazed. He smiled widely. “Nay, he’s always akin when we fight the English.”
James was fierce, but now that Graeme saw his actions he considered the man foolhardy. He didn’t protect himself and tossed his sword aside. As they stood there, the snow fell earnestly upon them, James removed his garments.
Taking his sword, Graeme approached. With it aimed at James’ heart, he called to him. “James, James, listen to me …”
But the man continued to laugh as did his followers. His eyes widened slightly when he gazed up at him. “Graeme, I ken ye would come. What took ye so long?” He tossed Kerrigan’s medallion at him and Graeme scowled at it, not sure what it meant. Did she need his aid or was she indeed gone?
“Tell me where she is or I’ll kill you now.”
Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN
Inside a vacated crofter’s cottage, Graeme and his comrades took refuge from the storm. He paced and gazed out the small window at the thick layer of snow on the ground. It would likely reach his knees were he to tread there. He despaired because he would have to await the melt before leaving to find Kerrigan.
James slept and hadn’t awakened since they arrived at the cottage two days before. He’d only said that Kerrigan was alive. As impatient as he was to leave, he realized he couldn’t put his friends in danger.
“Graeme, you’re wearing out the floor. Come and eat,” Brodin said, and lifted a trencher he’d filled with the meat of the hares he’d hunted that morning.
He sat at the small table, flanked by two benches. Liam handed him a dagger and Graeme cut a piece of meat and popped it into his mouth. The meat tasted bland for they had no herbs or spices to add and it was dry.
“I wish James would wake for I want to know what happened to Kerrigan.”
“Even if he awakens, our journey would be delayed.” Heath poured him ale from his flask. “We cannot travel in such deep snow.”
“I will wait another day, two at the most. And if James doesn’t wake within the hour, I will toss his arse into the snow.”
His comrades laughed, but Graeme was in no jovial mood. He couldn’t sit idly and the more James slept, the more he wore the floorboards.
Midday came and went. Graeme had to get out of the cottage before he went mad. James continued to slumber. Brodin sat in the corner and carved a piece of wood. Heath removed his boots and appeared to be making a tassel from the strings he’d tied to his boot strap. Liam flipped the coin they used for wagers into the air and caught it repeatedly.
Winter was wearisome. Were they back at the cave, they would’ve continued to train and test their tactics. “Let us practice arms. I vow I’ve never seen such a bored group of men.” He tossed Liam his sword, still in its scabbard, and he caught it.
He and his friends went out in the snow. Graeme chose Brodin as his partner. They tarried with their swords until they exerted.
Heath and Liam did likewise and whoever bested their opponent got to go against the winner. And so it went on through the day. The light faded, and they soaked through from falling in the snow. They continued their combat and honed the tactics they’d practiced.
It would’ve been a joyous time, to carouse as they had when they were lads. But Graeme was in no mood for revelry. Their brawls grew serious and none jested. The training not only curtailed their boredom, but it also enabled them to let off their excessive vigor.
James bounded from the cottage. He stood in front of the threshold wearing only his braises. His hands fisted at his sides. “Where the hell am I?”
Graeme tossed his sword into the snow and ran at him. He grabbed James and flung him into an untouched patch of snow. With a punch to his jaw, he knocked him back, but James didn’t defend himself.
“Fight me, ye miscreant piece of shite. I should kill you.” He kept up the onslaught until his foe’s nose bled, speckled the snow by his face crimson.
“Graeme, if ye want to know where Kerrigan is, ye best let up.”
He gave a disgruntled look at Brodin and then pushed James’ face into the show. With force, he kept him there until Heath and Liam pulled him away.
“Is he dead?” Brodin asked.
James rolled onto his back. His breath rasped. “I ken you are ireful, Graeme. And ye have a right to be.”
“Mayhap you should’ve thought about that before you abducted my wife.”
James wiped the blood from his nose. “I will take you to her. We will leave at once.”
“We cannot go anywhere, not until this snow melts.” Graeme, frustrated by the inconvenience, kicked the snow at his feet. A smatter of snow covered James.
He gazed around him and James’ face staid. “When the hell did it snow? And where are my followers?” James groaned. “Oh, God, please don’t tell me they are dead.”
Graeme shoved James out of his way and walked inside the cottage. His comrades followed and James came in a moment later.
They stood about and made a large fire in the hearth. Graeme collected their garments and hung them around the confines to dry them. He retrieved his tunic and tartan and dressed. Everyone quieted. As much as he wanted to interrogate James, he suspected whatever medicinals he took had yet to wear off. He needed James to be clearheaded when he asked his questions.
Liam prepared a stew and when all finished eating, Graeme turned his body and faced James.
“Where did you take Kerrigan?”
James rose and walked to and fro from the cottage door to the table. He looked apprehensive. “Graeme, I only took her because Robert bade me to find her. If I didn’t take her to him, he would’ve sent others. You ken how relentless he is.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when ye came? We could have sent her and made a plan for her return.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“I don’t recall you saying such.” Graeme rubbed his eyes, trying to remember what their conversation was before he and James fought.
“I didn’t think that far ahead and make a plan because I only wanted Robert to cease his search of her which would’ve led to you.” James continued to walk around the small chamber, bumping into his comrades.
“Why’d ye thrash me then? Was it so I wouldn’t follow?”
“Aye. I had to make sure you didn’t come after her. I took her to Robert, and he spoke with her. I thought the game was up when he announced Kerrigan’s betrothal.”
Graeme rose, knocked the bench back, and it teetered on two legs before falling to the floor. “Did he wed her to someone?” He fisted his hands and wanted to punch James and bloody his nose again. That had to be the reason Robert hadn’t sent her along with his family. The king betrothed her. Graeme leaned against the table, needing it for support.
“Nay for the man, Micheol Lennox—”
Liam shot a confounded glance at them. “Micheol Lennox? He was betrothed to Kerrigan?” He laughed mockingly. “The fiend. I vow he’s a clod-brained arse.”
James shook his head. “He was betrothed to her by Moray, but when he arrived, he rejected Kerrigan. He said he already wedded.”
“Who did he marry?” Liam asked. When all glanced at him in question, he expounded. “He’s my cousin. I detest the man. He’s the reason I was sent in service to the Bruce.” Liam sat back, his face scowled with displeasure.
James walked back toward the hearth. “I don’t ken who he married, he didn’t say. Och both Kerrigan and I were relived until Robert suggested I wed Kerrigan.”
Graeme had gotten close enou
gh to James and was able to throw a resounded blow and stuck his jaw. It felt good to relieve his frustration, but his breath hitched and he couldn’t abate his racing heart.
“I deserved that.” James rubbed his face. “We both adamantly rejected Robert’s suggestion.”
“Then what happened?” Graeme stepped back and allowed James room to move about the cottage.
“He sent the womenfolk off with Niall to safety. Said he was going to winter on the isle but needed his family secure.”
“So he sent Kerrigan with them?”
“Aye he did. Before she left, Kerrigan told me if she were to disappear I shouldn’t search for her. I took it that she’d flee and make her way back to you.”
Graeme rubbed the back of his neck with the anxiety of the telling, and his eyes burned from peering at James. He was getting nowhere. “She left with his family?”
James nodded. “I never expected to see her at Gwenol’s.”
He glowered, reached out, and gripped James’ tunic. Fisting the material, he shook the fiendish swine, his anger overrode any caution. Brodin and Liam gripped his arms and gained James’ release.
“Who is Gwenol?” Brodin asked.
“She’s an old crone I visit for medicinals.”
Graeme took a breath of consolation. “And ye saw Kerrigan at Gwenol’s?”
James pressed his hands over his chest and turned around. He faced the wall. His voice low when next he spoke. “I went there because Robert complained of a stomach ailment and I oft get medicinals from her. When we entered her cottage, there was a lass …”
The cottage silenced. Graeme couldn’t move for he held his breath and hoped he wouldn’t hear what James was about to say.
“When Gwenol allowed me to help her, and I realized who she was.”
From what James alleged it was obvious something happened to her. “James, I need to ken. Was she dead?” He’d spoken his will in a low tone, one which surely sounded akin to a prayer.
“Kerrigan was hurt and Gwenol tended her. She said her hound found Kerrigan in the river, nearly drowned.”
His chest constricted for pain riddled him speechless. “Was she gone?”
James lowered his head. “She was barely breathed. Och I left and was on my way to you, but got distracted by Edward’s army. Mistress Gwenol is the best healer, Graeme. If anyone could save her, she could.”
Graeme hadn’t realized he’d taken a seat until he stood. He grabbed the sack he kept his belongings in and collected his possessions. When his comrades saw what he was doing, they too gathered their things.
James pulled on his boots and said, “I suppose ye don’t intend to await the melt?”
“Hell no. I want to leave now.”
“I would that we gather my men for I won’t be coming back this way.”
Graeme nodded. “They are encamped a short distance away. James, ye best hope Kerrigan lives for if not, I shall kill you.”
James gave a firm nod. “Let us go then and see how she fares.”
*****
The morning brightened, and the snow receded. Gwenol happily walked beside Merlin who insisted on stopping to smell every tree. She only had a few minutes and wanted to return quickly. The lass should awaken and Gwenol wanted to get more broth into her. She was relieved Kerrigan took the broth and kept it down when she’d awakened the past few days.
Medicinals kept Kerrigan from fully waking and feeling the pain of her wounds. Once she fed her, she would have to see to it she was kept under the effect. Gwenol whistled to Merlin and walked toward the cottage. As she neared, she heard the thunder of horse’s hooves, many riders, by the sound of the stomping. She hurried inside and closed the door. With Merlin guarding the entrance she breathed easier. For no one could get inside without being ravaged by her hound. A knock came, and she peered out the window.
She opened the door. “Welcome. I didn’t expect to see you at my door so soon. Have you run out of the medicinals already?”
The king smiled. “I used all and am fully healed, Mistress. I thank you.”
Gwenol stepped back and hurried to pull the cover over Kerrigan’s head. She remembered what the Good Sir James told her about ensuring no one saw the lass. Taking a bottle of herbs, she pretended to busy herself.
He approached. “The lass?”
She shook her head. “I fear she … didn’t make it, my lord.”
“I am disappointed and sorry to hear that, Mistress.” The king’s eyes took on sadness and darkened with a soulless mien.
“Indeed, Sire. You appear to be troubled. Come and rest,” she said and motioned to a chair.
“I am, for I learned my family was taken by Edward’s army. My own wife imprisoned, my sisters held in cages … My brother,” he said, and lowered his voice to a grave level, “tortured and hung.”
Gwenol set a hand on his arm, consoling him with a gentle touch. “I am sorry, Sire, it is such distressing news.”
“I blame myself, Mistress. All I wanted was their security, but I sent them into the path of that villainous swine. I can barely live with this tormented guilt.” He lowered his head and closed his eyes.
She set her hand on his shoulder. “I am certain you did what you thought was right. Is there a way to rescue the women?”
“Short of surrendering myself to the English king, I doubt it.”
“You are an intelligent man, Sire, and surely you will think of something to save them. Whilst ye think on it, drink this for it will calm ye and ease your heart.” She poured a few drops of the datura powder into a vile mixed with mead.
The king took it and turned back to peer at the lass. He crossed himself and bowed his head. “Shall I have my men shovel a grave?”
Gwenol stiffened for she had to go forth with the falsehood for James insisted the king not know of her and she would do what she could to ensure Kerrigan’s protection. “The ground is too hard yet. I shall have my lad take care of it when it warms. We shall wrap her and keep her until then. Did you come to seek aid? Is your stomach still unwell?”
He turned away from her and Gwenol released a relieved sigh. “My stomach only bothers me from time to time. But several of my guards have come down with a malady, their cough harsh. We are soon to leave and I wished to provide them an aid for their illness.”
She hastened to her table and poured a good amount of mixture in a large flask. It wouldn’t be enough and she poured two more flasks. “That should do you, Sire.” Gwenol handed the flasks to him. “They should only need a small sip.”
“What do I owe ye?”
“Oh, Sire, nothing at all. I am pleased to aid you and your followers.”
“I am grateful as I am sure my men will be. I should go unless you need me to help you with the lass.”
“I have my lad, Sire. We will manage. Be well.” She bowed, and he left. Gwenol closed the door behind him relieved at his departure. She cast a quick glance at Jay. Her son sat beside the hearth, petting Merlin. She listened for their withdrawal and heard the tromping of horses and men’s voices getting farther away.
“Jay, go and watch. Be sure he has left.”
She stirred the broth which now simmered and ladled enough into a bowl for it to cool. When Kerrigan awoke, she’d have to ensure she drank all of it. She’d need her strength and the sustenance would do her well.
“Mother, it looks as though the king’s men return.”
She left the pot and stood by the door. “Stand by Merlin. Do not let the hound loose until I say.” Gwenol wasn’t sure if or why he would return. Four men rode with Sir James, but they appeared to be displeased by their approach for they all scowled or wore grim faces.
James dismounted and waited for one of the men to approach. She opened the door wider and stepped back when they entered.
“Good Sir James, you just missed the king. He was here but a moment ago.”
“Nay, we did not miss him, Mistress. We saw him.”
“Why did you not come with him?
” Gwenol was confused for James rode with the king the last time he’d visited.
“I cannot explain.”
One of James’ companions moved past them. He approached the bed where the lass lay and gasped. He knelt next to the bed and pulled back the cover. “She’s dead.” His voice sounded woebegone, and she thought he might weep.
Gwenol approached and when the man looked to want to take Kerrigan in his arms, she shouted, “Nay, do not!”
That got an odd reaction from the men for they each pulled their swords free. Except for James who stood afar and lowered his head. Merlin growled ferociously and Jay’s eyes widened. The moment grew tense and not a soul moved within the cottage.
“Mother, should I release him?”
She shook her head. Gwenol realized who the man was for James said he would retrieve her husband, but she would ask before she assumed. “Quiet all. Sir, are you her husband?”
His voice barely a whisper, “Aye.”
“I am sorry I yelled at ye. ‘Tis just … she has injuries and I didn’t want ye to hurt her further by moving her.”
“She lives?”
“She does. I only covered her because the king came and I didn’t want him to see her. Sir James said she fled from him.”
“She did. What happened to her?”
“I know not.” She pointed to his company who continued to hold their swords at the ready. “Can your men stand down? My son will have a hard time holding Merlin.”
He waved a hand at them and they sheathed their swords. She pointed down and Merlin lay by the hearth, his tail thumped. The man set his head on the bed and hid his face. Gwenol thought he might be weep for his shoulders shook.
“Out. Everyone be gone. Let us give the man time with his wife.”
Sir James and the other three bounded from the cottage. “Jay, take Merlin out.”
“Will ye be safe, Mother?”
She nodded. “Go for I shall be well.” Gwenol turned back to the man. “Sir, she is heals but it will take time.” She handed him a cup of mead and proceeded to wipe Kerrigan’s face.
