Highland Gladiator

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “I’ll see tae it,” Ternan said. “But remember—ye promised no attacks. If ye do and the Keith go tae Angus Murray about it…”

  Drostan understood. “I know,” he said, holding up an impatient hand. “We could have Angus down around us. Make sure the Beast knows it, too.”

  Ternan would. He seemed to be the only man in Drostan’s stable of men who had half a heart and half a brain, so he would ensure the Beast knew what his limits were, and he could only hope that the barbarian understood.

  Tomorrow would tell the tale.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Vale of Morning (Vale of Demons)

  This was where they first met.

  It was almost in this very spot, in fact. Right at the crest of the path that ran through the vale, closer to Lindsay lands than to Keith. As Isabail plunged through the frosted foliage that had grown up over the footpath, she remembered that day very well. It was the day her life had changed forever, although she didn’t know it at the time.

  She certainly knew it now.

  Isabail smiled as she remembered Lor on that day and the birds eggs she was so interested in. That was typical of her at that age, unwilling to accept responsibility for her actions. But he clearly didn’t hold it against her because now he was going to marry her.

  Perhaps she’d even get her birdhouse after all.

  It was just after dawn on a cold, crisp morning after a night of heavy rains. It wasn’t cold enough to turn the rain to snow yet, but that would come soon. Isabail could tell by the way the trees were turning color. It always happened in the Highlands right before the first snows. That was why she was particularly industrious this morning. Once the snows came, it would be difficult to forage or even hunt, so she had to build up their stores.

  There were Scottish chestnut trees in this vale, and the last she’d seen, which had admittedly been weeks ago, they had been heavy with ripened chestnuts. She had a big stick with her for slapping at the tree branches and two big sacks.

  Isabail was determined to collect all she could. Winter could be long, and they needed food that would keep well in storage. She could only hope that the other women of Auchnacree hadn’t come out to the vale to do the same thing she intended to do. She knew the women of the village were afraid of the vale, afraid of a Lindsay patrol, but Isabail wasn’t afraid.

  She could take care of herself.

  Still, she had another purpose for coming out this early in the morning—so Lor could speak to her father. Last night had been an excellent opportunity for Lor and Niall to become better acquainted over talk of the village defense, and Isabail thought they knew each other well enough by now. She didn’t want to wait any longer to become Lor’s wife, so she’d pulled a dirty trick on him, telling her father before she left the cottage that morning that Lor wanted to speak to him. If Lor wouldn’t go to Niall, then she would send Niall to Lor.

  A dirty trick, indeed.

  It made her smile to think about it. Taking a smaller trail off the footpath, she plunged into the heavy foliage until she came to the distinctive crisscrossed bark of the chestnut trees. There were several and she looked up, seeing already that many had been stripped of their nuts.

  Fearing she had come too late, Isabail continued to move through the grove until she found a tree that hadn’t been stripped. The branches were low and bushy, too. Thrilled, she set the sacks down and was preparing to beat the chestnut pods out of the tree when she began to hear voices off to the north.

  They were female voices so she wasn’t alarmed, but she was curious. Moving away from the tree, she pushed through some heavy growth until she came to a small clearing. Immediately, she recognized a few women from the village, digging up some half-frozen green stems protruding from the ground. One of the young women from the group caught sight of Isabail and waved to her.

  “Issie!”

  Isabail recognized a sweet lass she’d known since birth by the name of Aggie.

  “What are ye doing?” Isabail asked.

  Aggie dropped what she was doing and ran over to her. “Digging for roots,” she said. “Did ye come tae help us?”

  Isabail shook her head. “I’ve come for the chestnuts,” she said. “It looks as if most of the trees have already been harvested.”

  Aggie nodded firmly, her brown hair licking at her pale skin. “The chestnuts were the first tae go,” she said. Then she pointed to the women digging in the dirt. “Now we’re gathering wild onions before the ground freezes. Soon the snows will come.”

  Isabail nodded. “I know,” she said. “If ye find enough, can I have some? I’ll give ye some extra chestnuts.”

  Aggie wrinkled her nose. “We have plenty of chestnuts, but I’ll give ye some wild onions anyway.”

  “I’d be grateful.”

  Isabail flashed her a smile and turned back for the chestnut trees. She’d just made it to the tree and was preparing to lift her stick when she heard a chorus of cries go up from the women. Startled, she raced back to the clearing in time to see several men swooping down on the women, grabbing at them.

  Fear swept Isabail. It was a natural reaction to something that happened all too often, another Lindsay raid, one of the many they’d had over the years. Isabail could have run away at that moment, but it simply wasn’t in her nature. Her instincts demanded that she defend the women.

  She wasn’t going to flee like a coward.

  In her hand, she was still carrying the heavy stick that she was going to use for the chestnuts. Now, that stick became her weapon. Clutching it in both hands, she lifted it like a club.

  She was going to give those Lindsay bastards a fight.

  Rushing to the man closest to her, who was trying to toss Aggie over his shoulder, she came up behind him and crowned him over the skull. She hit him as hard as she could, and he fell like a stone. As he went down, Isabail grabbed Aggie and pulled her out of the way.

  “Go, Aggie,” she hissed. “Run for the village! Hurry!”

  Aggie was sobbing but not senseless. She took off at a dead run, disappearing through the wet foliage as Isabail focused on another man who had Aggie’s mother by the hair. Very quickly, however, the Lindsay men saw Isabail, and a pair of them began to stalk her while the others were busy binding the woman they’d captured.

  Seeing that they were going to gang up on her, Isabail began to back away.

  “Release the woman,” she barked. “Release her or I’ll take my stick tae ye.”

  There were more men back in the foliage, now stepping through it. One of them had a young woman he’d grabbed when she’d tried to run away, but the second man…

  God help her, she’d seen him before.

  Disbelief filled her. The last time she’d seen him had been back at the Ludus Caledonia and Lor had been hanging on his neck, strangling him.

  She began to feel sick to her stomach.

  “Ye,” she hissed at him. “What are ye doing here?”

  The man stared at her with eyes that bordered on madness. “Drop the stick, woman.”

  If he recognized her, he didn’t let on, but a strong sense of self-preservation told Isabail to back away from him. Lor had barely licked the man, and for him, it had been one hell of a battle.

  As talented and knowledgeable as she was, Isabail wasn’t sure she could fight this man and emerge the winner. She wasn’t sure she wanted to try. Something was telling her to run as fast as she could back to the village and sound the alarm.

  The Beast from the Ludus Caledonia was in their midst.

  “I willna,” she said, sounding braver than she felt. “Answer me. How did ye come here? Who are ye serving?”

  “Astonishing, isn’t he?”

  Another man appeared behind him, a short man with dark hair and a pale look about him. He smiled at Isabail, and it would have been a pleasant smile had the situatio
n not been so dire.

  Isabail’s gaze moved back and forth between the man and the Beast.

  “Who are ye?” she demanded. “What is that…that animal doing here?”

  The pale man glanced at the Beast. “Him?” he said. “He now serves Drostan Lindsay. He’s come tae help us with the gypsies on our land.”

  “What gypsies?”

  “I think ye know who I mean.”

  She did, but as for the rest, she was shocked to the bone. How on earth did the Beast come to serve Drostan? Last she saw of the man, he was being carried from the Fields of Mars after Lor had defeated him.

  And now he was here.

  My God…how?

  Through her astonishment, Isabail retained enough sense not to push the issue. She didn’t ask again because however it had happened, it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that it had. She continued to back away as the Beast moved toward her.

  “One man canna drive us from our own lands,” she said steadily. “Harass all ye want, but we’ll not leave. We have allies, too, or are ye too foolish tae realize that?”

  The pale man kept her attention. “We’ve been rather brilliant tae bring the best warrior in all of Scotland intae our midst,” he said. “’Tis ye who are foolish if ye dunna realize that ye must leave or very bad things will happen.”

  He meant the Beast, and Isabail came to a halt when she backed into a bare sapling, her gaze now drawn to the pale man because there was something strangely familiar about him.

  “I’ve seen ye before,” she said. “What is yer name?”

  “Ternan. Who are ye, lass?”

  “The daughter of Niall Keith. Ye know my family has held these lands for almost one hundred years. They belong tae us; they’re in our blood. Why can ye not leave us be?”

  Isabail realized in hindsight that she probably shouldn’t have told the man who she was. She’d told him because it was natural to tell people who she was, and who her father was, but in this case, she should have been more prudent about it.

  It was too late now.

  “Niall’s lass,” Ternan said as if pleasantly surprised. “Ye dunna look like yer da.”

  “I favor my mother. She was an Ogilvy. If ye dunna leave us alone, then that’s who ye’ll have around yer ears. My da has already sent word tae them.”

  It was a lie, but she had to make it plain that she was nothing to be trifled with. She’d meant it as a threat. But Ternan didn’t seem concerned.

  “Then they can take ye back ontae their lands,” he said. “This is Lindsay land, lass. It has belonged tae us longer than it ever belonged tae the Keith and everyone knows it. Ye should have been gone long ago.”

  “Is that why ye burned Careston and made it look as if we did it? Tae turn the clans against us and drive us out?”

  His smile faded. “Who told ye that?”

  “It doesna matter. What matters is that we know. And so do others.”

  Ternan’s smile vanished completely. “Mayhap ye should tell Drostan that.”

  “I’m not going tae tell him anything. But ye can tell him for me that ’tis only a matter of time before we ruin him. He’ll not win this war, Ternan. Beast or no Beast.”

  Isabail’s mistake was that she was focused on Ternan too much, not being aware of her surroundings. As she spoke, two men moved up behind her, men she hadn’t seen yet. Her first clue that she was being ambushed was when one man grabbed her and the other knocked the stick out of her hand.

  After that, the fight was on.

  * * *

  “Issie said ye wanted tae speak with me.”

  Lor found himself looking at Niall as the man stood in the doorway of his cottage.

  It was just after dawn, and Lor had been fashioning himself a proper bed frame out of scraps of wood and pieces of rope he’d managed to borrow from Niall’s cluttered barn. He’d hoped to make a proper bed for him and his soon-to-be wife when there’d been a knock on the door.

  Now he was face-to-face with the man he had been trying to summon the courage to speak to, but Isabail had evidently not left something as important as this to chance. She’d taken charge and sent her father to Lor.

  Lor almost laughed when he realized that.

  “Aye,” he said after a moment, trying not to appear startled. “I…I was planning tae come and see ye myself. Ye dinna have tae come tae me.”

  Niall waved him off. “I was on my way tae see Clova, so it is no trouble,” he said. “And speaking of the old hag, she’s quite taken with ye. Did ye notice that?”

  Lor was quickly growing embarrassed. “She was already here this morning, giving me boiled eggs,” he said. “She seems…attentive.”

  Niall snorted. “Only with ye,” he said. “If it were me or my lads, she’d shove those eggs right up our… Well, she’s never been so attentive tae us. Ye must have impressed her somehow.”

  Lor shrugged, wanting off the subject of old Clova, who had kissed him when she’d left this morning. On the lips.

  He was still shaking that one off.

  “I dunna know how I made any impression on her,” he said. “I’ve hardly spoken tae her. Have ye broken yer fast yet? I have plenty of boiled eggs.”

  Niall shook his head. “Not those eggs. She’d probably curse me if she knew I ate them.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “What do ye want tae speak with me about?”

  Courage, lad, Lor told himself. He’d never found himself in a situation like this before; he’d never even come close.

  There was no use in delaying the inevitable.

  “Isabail and I have spoken,” Lor began and then suddenly stopped because he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. “That is tae say, she is agreeable.”

  “Tae what?”

  “Marriage. I want yer permission tae marry yer daughter.”

  Niall stared at him. From his expression, he hadn’t been expecting that. “What did ye say?” he asked.

  “I asked for permission tae marry Isabail.”

  That didn’t ease Niall’s shock. In fact, it made it worse. Suddenly, he was pitching to his knees, grabbing Lor’s hands for support. As Lor watched in horror, Niall collapsed in front of him.

  “Forgive me,” Lor said quickly, trying to pull the man to his feet. “I shoulda… I dinna mean tae be so clumsy. Forgive me if I surprised ye.”

  Niall had his forehead resting on Lor’s hands. “Surprised,” he muttered. “Surprised? God’s teeth, lad…surprised isna what I’m feeling. Ye want tae marry my Issie?”

  “Aye,” Lor said hesitantly, hoping that was the right answer. “I’d make a good husband, I swear it. I wouldna beat her…”

  Niall cut him off. “She needs it!”

  Lor seriously wasn’t certain if Niall was happy about this or not. “I willna lift a finger tae her,” he insisted. “She’s brave and beautiful… She wants tae be my wife, Niall. I’ll be true tae her until I die, I swear.”

  Niall seemed to be having some sort of fit. He was laughing or crying; Lor couldn’t tell. Then he abruptly kissed Lor’s hands and stood up, throwing his arms around the man and pulling him into a powerful embrace.

  “Thank God,” Niall grunted. “Thank God for ye, Lor Careston. I thought I’d never find a husband for my Isabail. Ye willna change yer mind, will ye?”

  Lor was coming to think he had Niall’s approval. “Never,” he said softly. “She’s a fine woman. I’ll be proud tae call her my wife.”

  Niall kissed him loudly on both cheeks before releasing him. “Praise the saints,” he said. “Aye, lad, ye have my permission tae marry her. And good riddance!”

  He laughed uproariously, causing Lor to grin. Now, he could see that Niall’s reactions, all of them, had been purely out of shock and joy. Truthfully, he was relieved because he hadn’t been sure how Niall would take any of this, but the man was
clearly overcome with glee.

  Grabbing Lor’s hand, Niall yanked him out of the cottage and dragged him out into the early morning, shouting to anyone who was within earshot that Isabail was to marry Lor. He began picking up a crowd, who crowed with delight at the news. It was news that began to spread, and more and more people were turning out to congratulate Niall and Lor. The only thing missing was the bride, and Niall informed Lor that Isabail had gone out to forage for chestnuts in the Vale of Morning.

  Lor was thinking seriously about heading out to the vale to locate Isabail and inform her that they were now betrothed. He wanted her to share in the excitement. He was happier about it than he’d ever thought he would be, now being congratulated by villagers he’d only just met. But they were good people; Lor knew that.

  Since coming to Auchnacree, he’d had the opportunity to see that these were simple folk, not the aggressors that he’d always feared. They were farmers and shepherds, bakers and wheelwrights. Unlike the Lindsay, who had many warriors at their disposal, the Keith warriors were villagers who were only concerned with preserving their way of life.

  Certainly not what Lor had always been taught about them, and after the destruction of Careston, he was looking forward to finding a home again—a home, a wife, and a family. Everything he’d lost, he’d now found again.

  He couldn’t have been more grateful.

  As they moved toward the center of the village, more people were turning out and Ewan and Ossian appeared. Having been at the smithy because their shaggy ponies needed their hooves tended, they’d heard of their sister’s impending marriage from the village alewife, who had heard it from the merchant’s wife.

  The village gossips were working at full speed.

  “What’s this I hear?” Ewan was outraged. “Ye intend tae marry my sister?”

  Niall thumped him in the chest before Lor could reply. “If ye ruin this for me, I’ll kill ye,” he said. “Dunna let the man know what idiots ye are before he marries yer sister.”

  Lor laughed quietly, putting a hand over his mouth so he wasn’t so obvious about it. “Dunna worry,” he told Niall. “I’d marry her anyway.”