She moved under Cainnech’s arm when the King of Scots was finally announced. It took three men and a trumpet. Aleysia rolled her eyes. When she saw Sir John enter after him, her gaze went cold. She instinctively felt for one of her daggers tucked inside her bodice. Her eyes slanted to her husband and she found him watching her.
“Commander MacPherson!” Robert the Bruce’s boisterous voice filled the hall.
Cainnech turned toward him with a smile and released Aleysia to bow to him.
“Yer Majesty,” he called out. “Welcome to Lismoor Castle.”
Robert the Bruce wasn’t overly tall, but she remembered Giles speaking of him once during one of his visits. His size didn’t matter when it came to his skill and his courage. One did not have to be a Scot to hear the tales.
His dark eyes drifted to her, and then sized her up from boots to braid. “Miss d’Argentan, I presume?”
She nodded, suddenly caught speechless that Robert the Bruce was standing in her great hall, believing he was here to decide her fate. That was why Sir John was here with him. Pity he didn’t know it had already been decided the moment Cainnech MacPherson set foot in her forest.
“What brings my lord here?” Cainnech asked rather boldly.
If the king, who reached Cainnech’s shoulder, took offense, he did not let it show. “I was leavin’ Fife when I received word from Sir John here,” he turned toward the Norman, standing close by, “that there was some sort of dispute between ye and him over a woman. When I met with him, I told him that ’twas I who ordered she be wed.”
“Yer Majesty,” Father Timothy interrupted with a smile. “There is some—”
“Ah, Father Timothy, ’tis good to see ye!” the King of the Scots greeted him with open arms.
After a tight embrace, the priest stepped back and bowed, losing his nerve to continue.
“Sire,” Cainnech tried to take up where his friend left off.
The Bruce held up his hand to cut him off. “Sir John has already been promised to Miss d’Argentan by her cousin, Lord Geoffrey d’Argentan of Normandy.”
“Aye, Sir John showed me his letter,” Cainnech agreed.
“So then?” the Bruce asked, holding up his hands. “What is the dispute? Hand her over.”
No! Aleysia took a step back. Cainnech stepped in front of her.
“Sire, she is my wife.”
“Yer—” the king worked the word around his tight jaw. “—wife?” He turned to Father Timothy. “Ye married them. When?”
“Yesterday, Sire,” the priest told him. “They are in love. Meant to be by God’s own hand!” He shouted when the king would quiet him.
“Do ye want to be removed, Father?” the king asked.
Before anyone moved, Aleysia stepped forward and did her best to smile. “Sire, I do not want to marry Sir John. I love Cainne—the commander. What difference does it make which of them I take as a husband? My castle and my land will still be yours.”
The Scottish king’s face was unreadable. His tone, when he spoke, was sweet and condescending. “Miss d’Argentan, it doesna concern ye what difference it makes to me. If ’tis not I who stands behind this agreement, I will send Sir John off to yer King Edward and ye will see who he chooses fer ye. Aye?”
“He wants Norman allies,” Cainnech told her boldly facing his king. “That is why he wants ye to wed Sir John.”
“I see bein’ here hasna had a good effect on ye or the priest,” the king said, holding up his hands. “Ye will take yer men and leave after the ceremony.”
“What ceremony?” Cainnech demanded. “She is my wife before God and witnesses. Ye canna—”
“I will never swear my allegiance to you!” Aleysia swore as four of the king’s men stepped forward. “I want to make my plea before my king, Edward.”
“Yer Majesty,” Sir John stepped back when Cainnech reached out for him. “This is a volatile place. I wish to take Miss d’Argentan away tonight. I will take her to England.”
“Robert,” Cainnech said, commanding the king’s attention. “I have fought many battles in yer name, was willin’ to give my life to yer cause. Dinna repay me this way. I love her.”
Tears filled Aleysia’s eyes until her vision was blurred. She swiped her tears away and moved closer to him.
“Cainnech, if this were anyone else,” the king said regretfully. “But what ye say is true. I need this alliance. Imagine our force with the Normans on our side!”
Cainnech shook his head. “Nae. I can never give her up.”
“I understand there is a dungeon here. Dinna make me throw ye in it,” the king warned. “I canna let ye stand in the way of this.”
Cainnech ripped his sword from its sheath. “Let the Norman meet me on the field.”
“Nae,” the king warned again. “Put yer sword away.”
“Sire,” Cainnech pleaded. “Dinna make me do this.”
“My love,” Aleysia placed her hand on his arm. She didn’t want him to fight the king’s men. Some were men he knew and he might not make it out alive. “Please, put your sword away.”
He looked at her with his heart in his eyes. He wouldn’t lose her. He would do anything but lose her.
“Ye will leave tonight,” the king told him once his sword was sheathed.
“Then I will leave with my wife.”
“Take him away,” the king ordered. “And relieve him of his sword.”
Father Timothy held out his hand as if to stop them. “Sire, please.”
Cainnech fought six of them off before Nicholas and some of the others leaped into the fray. Once Cainnech saw his brother in the fight, he stopped and commanded Nicholas to stop as well.
Aleysia watched them push him away. He looked over his shoulder at her and then smashed his forehead into the next man who pushed him. The man fell to the floor as if dead.
When he was gone, the king gave the fallen man a pitied look and then turned to Aleysia. “Ye will leave with Sir John at once. Ye are England’s problem. Not mine. And ye,” he turned to Sir John, “will remember who ’twas who helped ye today.”
“Who betrays his friend,” Aleysia bit out. “I will not remain at Lismoor while you are king. Let Sir John wed one of your other puppets.”
“Our time is done here, Miss d’Argentan,” the Bruce told her. “I suggest ye go make ready fer yer trip.”
Oh, she felt for her dagger, she was ready.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cain waited alone in the light of a single candle in the depths of Lismoor. Put in the dungeon by the man he’d served for more than a decade. The betrayal cut deep and Cain would never forget it, but now was not the time for such thoughts. Now, he had to find a way out of Lismoor’s dungeon. He knew there was one, for Aleysia had escaped. Unless she’d already had the key with her.
He searched the cell for over of an hour but, in the dark, he could find nothing. He shouted for someone to come and then continued searching for the key. He was surprised to see Richard step into the torchlight by the entrance.
He rushed to the bars. “Richard, help me get oot of here!”
“’Tis too late,” he said, coming closer, looking drained and miserable. “He took her.”
Cain threw himself against the bars. “Sir John? Where?” he demanded when the old knight nodded.
“To England. He denied my company. Oh,” he lamented. “This is not what I wanted when I wrote to Geoffrey d’Argentan. I only meant to protect her.”
“Ye wrote to him?” Cain asked, stunned. That was how Sir John knew to come here. “’Tis too late now fer regrets, Sir Richard. But ’tis not too late to protect her. Help me get oot.”
“There’s a key in the waste bucket. There is a false bottom,” the old knight told him. “The tunnel leads to the woods.”
Cain immediately dumped the waste bucket and tore apart the bottom until he had the key. Clever lass. No one she put in the dungeon would happen upon the key, or think to look in such a place. “How long ago di
d they leave?” he asked Richard as he unlocked the door and ran out of the cell.
“About a quarter of an hour ago. She tried to come to you but the Bruce’s men stopped her.”
Cain nodded. “Dinna fear. I will bring her back and settle this with the king.”
“Commander?” The knight stopped him before he entered the tunnel. “Do you love her?”
Cain nodded. “Aye. Aye, I do.”
“Then hurry.”
Cain smiled and disappeared through the small hole in the wall.
He hadn’t gone this far inside the last time he was in here chasing her, he thought as the walls closed around him. He closed his eyes and kept on going, breathing in the air and searching for something fresh.
Finally, he came to the end of the tunnel and made his way out into the open. He climbed into the trees, hoping to see better from the high vantage point.
What he saw surprised him. Norman knights. Was Aleysia still here? No, there were less than a dozen of them. What were they still doing here, lingering about? He watched them, following them through the trees back to the castle, where they snuck inside.
What were they up to? Why were they sneaking about?
He hurried out of the trees and sprinted back to the keep. He nearly knocked over Nicholas on his way back in.
“Brother! The men and I were planning to break you free!” Nicholas greeted him.
Cain told him what he saw and suspected and they rushed toward the stairs for the solar.
They found two of the king’s guards dead in the corridor. Cain helped himself to one of the soldier’s swords. They looked inside the solar with hesitancy. The king was not there. They practically ran into four Normans on the way to the great hall. Cain swung his sword across two of the men’s throats. The other two died just as quickly as their guts spilled out across the rushes.
“Hell, Brother,” Nicholas stood still and pale with the dead around his feet. “I heard you are savage with a weapon. I see the tales are true.”
Cainnech patted him on the back and continued back on their path.
When they entered the great hall and saw that most of the men were still there and oblivious to what was happening, Cain informed them. “Find any Normans and kill them, no questions.”
They found more dead men, some Robert’s, some Cain’s, strewn across the rushes leading toward Cain’s room.
When Cain and Nicholas approached the room, they saw shadows by the bed, where the king lay napping.
Without a thought about what the king had done to him earlier, Cain sprang forward. After a short scuffle, he emerged the victor, with the hilt of his bloody sword in his hand. He put it into Nicholas’.
“Take it. Tell the king ye killed those bastards.”
“No. I will not take the credit for saving the king’s life when ’twas you who did it.”
“I must go,” Cain argued. “I must find Aleysia. Dinna tell Robert I am gone. Vow it.”
“I vow it,” Nicholas agreed quietly and did not call him back when the king awoke and called out.
Aleysia didn’t care about alliances, or Normandy, or the damned King of Scots. She wasn’t going to England with Sir John. She would escape the Norman knight and return to rescue Cainnech from the dungeon. She had tried, but Robert’s men wouldn’t let her see him. She’d visited Richard instead and begged him to promise to go to Cainnech and show him where to find the key to the cell. He had to escape. She had to get back to him.
She’d never agree to annulling their union and marrying anyone else.
“You are even more fair by the moonlight, Aleysia,” Sir John said as they trotted along on their horses.
“Why are we going south? Are we going to England?”
He tossed her an impatient look with a sigh to go with it. “You are not going to ask questions the entire time, are you?”
He needn’t worry. He wouldn’t be alive long enough to answer them.
There were twelve men in her company. Where were the rest of them? She was sure she could take down two with her daggers. One being Sir John. But then what was she to do? The rest of them would kill her.
Her traps were useless since she was on the ground and they were leaving the forest.
“Are you going to answer me?” she asked.
“We’re not going to England, dear Aleysia,” he told her impatiently. “We do not have to. Edward will do what I want now that I have disposed of the Scottish king.”
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying, Robert the Bruce is likely dead by now.”
Aleysia’s eyes opened wider. “You are in league with King Edward.” Now it made sense that Sir John had sought out the Scottish king. He planned on killing him quietly in her castle. Cainnech would never let it happen. But he could still be in the dungeon.
Amish would stop it. But it was an ambush. Father Timothy, Nicholas—Mattie!
She reached for the dagger shoved behind her bodice. She had to get back to the castle! She looked around at Sir John’s guards. Which one looked the most daunting? She found a man who sat tall in his saddle. He looked like a mean one, with a black patch over his eye and at least four hilts that she could see sticking out of his belt.
She pulled her dagger free and flung it all in one motion, aiming for his heart. Her blade landed in his chest with a thump. She moved swiftly, pulling another dagger out of her boot. She pointed it at Sir John and addressed his men.
“The next man to move ends his life!” she warned in a loud, clear voice.
“You will never get away,” Sir John warned. He smiled and it was so unlike Cainnech’s resplendent, patient smile that she nearly wretched thinking about life with this man.
“What do you care?” she asked him, oddly calm. “You will be dead. Now, tell your men to—”
Something dropped out of the trees and took down two guards before Aleysia realized it was Cainnech. His sword flashed in the filtered sunlight. Blood splashed a nearby tree. A guard came at him on his horse but Cainnech stopped him with a brutal blow from his axe. He whirled around in a deadly dance that was both captivating and terrifying to watch. Even Sir John could not tear his eyes away from the carnage Cainnech wreaked havoc upon his men. He didn’t stop swinging and jabbing until every man save Sir John, was dead.
Aleysia thought about what he must be like on the battlefield. She shivered in her spot.
Thunder reverberated beneath her. Horses were coming.
Cainnech came toward Sir John and Aleysia, his léine pulled free from his waist and stained in blood, his eyes glittering like the northern sky. He dropped his axe and held open his arms, a dripping sword in one hand. “Come!” he roared at Sir John.
Her would-be betrothed, and possibly the Scottish king’s killer, wilted in his saddle. He held up his shaking hands and surrendered.
Cainnech still came forth. Aleysia held out her hands to stop him, forgetting the dagger she’d held on Sir John.
The Norman leaped for her, knocking them both from the saddle.
Cainnech was there instantly, lifting Sir John off the forest floor by his collar. When Cainnech had him on his knees, he pulled the Norman close, letting Sir John see her as he pressed the edge of his blade against the knight’s throat.
She met Cainnech’s cold gaze over Sir John’s shoulder. He was going to cut his throat.
The thunder beneath her grew louder. They looked toward the sound to see the king and Amish, everyone coming into view. She darted her gaze back to Cainnech. She didn’t want him to kill Sir John. His king would not forgive him.
“Let him go, my love.”
He smiled and kissed the top of Sir John’s head and then let him go, sending him forward on his knees before the king with a kick to his backside.
Aleysia didn’t care about what was going on around her. Her eyes were on her husband. He looked up and their eyes met. This savage, merciless bloody Highland warrior was hers. Hers.
She ran into his arms, where she
ached to be, where she belonged. No damned king was going to take her from him again.
They sat with the king in the great hall as night fell. They drank and cheered Nicholas, who had saved the king’s life. Mattie was especially happy. She hadn’t stopped smiling all night.
For attempting to kill the king, Sir John was shipped off to Normandy in three separate crates as a message to Aleysia’s cousin.
Aleysia was afraid this would make them enemies, but the Bruce assured her that was not the case. He was sorry for sending her off with a killer.
He was not so forgiving to Cainnech. “How did ye get out of the dungeon?”
“Does it matter?” her husband asked him, in between sips of wine. “I told ye I wasna leavin’ withoot her.”
“Cain, I have known ye since ye were a lad. I fergive much from ye because of yer past. But yer insolence is gettin’—”
“Sire,” Nicholas interrupted, rising from his seat. “Cainnech is—”
Cainnech set his steady gaze on his brother and Nicholas sat down, saying nothing else.
This piqued the Bruce’s interest. He eyed them both. “When did ye escape that dungeon, Cain? Before or after the Normans infiltrated the castle?”
Cainnech blinked slowly, his gaze still on his brother. “After.”
“Brother,” Nicholas said and then looked at the king. “Sire, he saw the Normans coming inside.”
“Nicholas,” Cain said again.
“Nae. Let him speak,” the king commanded.
He told the king what had happened and when he was done, the Bruce commended him on his honesty. Again, he wasn’t so forgiving to Cainnech. “Ye saved my life, so I canna toss ye back into the dungeon—not that it would do any good. Instead, I will grant ye whatever ye ask. Insolence or not, I want no one else by my side in battle.”
“Thank ye, Sire,” Cain said. “But I willna be fightin’ fer awhile. I want to start a family with my wife. I also want Lismoor—”
He stopped when Aleysia leaned up and whispered in his ear.
“Are ye certain?” he asked her.
The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection Page 104
