Lady Fiona's Refuge (Ladies of Ardena Book 3)

by Rachel Skatvold

  He smiled at her for a brief moment before turning his attention to Fergus. Then his lips curved into a snarl as he produced a hidden sword from under his robe. His three guards followed his lead, lowering their hoods and produced weapons of their own. “Release my betrothed at once or face the consequences, Fergus.”

  The shocked look on Fergus’ face was well worth the effort of posing as a priest. Little did Fergus know—his priest and attendants were still on shore in an abandoned merchant’s shop tied up.

  Fergus recovered quickly and scowled in his direction. “You will not win this fight, peasant. You are outnumbered.” He nodded toward Commander Lorcan who rose to the challenge with a dozen armed men.

  “We shall see.”

  The other boat pulled up to the ship and more soldiers piled onto the deck. Fergus aimed a smug grin in Leland’s direction believing he had won. However, when they removed their hoods, they were revealed to be Leland’s men in disguise. Then a blur of gray fur leapt onto the deck. The hackles on Artair’s back stood straight up as he growled at the enemy, ready to fight.

  Fergus scowled at Leland and called to charge.

  Fiona and Clare hid behind some barrels at the bow of the ship with Artair running to stand guard. Once Leland saw they were safe, he went after one of the soldiers. After defeating him he took his sword, duel wielding so he could fight two men at once. Glancing at his men, he noticed they were doing well, fending off the others, using the obstacles on the deck to their advantage.

  After defeating two more, Leland saw several of his men had been slain by Commander Lorcan. He challenged the commander and knew right away he had met his match. Lorcan could wield with both hands as well, but chose to hold a sword in his dominant right hand and a dagger for slashing in his left. The elusive left-handed dagger jab was his deadly secret weapon. Leland took extra care to try and avoid it.

  They battled for a long while until Lorcan managed to slice the top of his left arm. Leland cried out, dropping one of his swords, but kept going strong with the right hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his remaining men were still fighting, but the battle was turning into a slog and enemy reinforcements would be sent for from the mainland if they didn’t hurry.

  Leland heard barking and a scream. Artair snarled at a soldier close to Fiona and Clare’s hiding spot. He started to run to their aid, but a sudden pain in the back of his thigh sent him plummeting to the wooden deck.

  Lorcan stood over him with a sneer, his sword aimed at his throat. “Did you truly believe you could win?”

  A battle cry sounded from nearby and in an instant his enemy was on the ground, having been stricken in the head by the pommel of a sword. When Leland sat up, he saw more men fighting the soldiers and a few still climbing over the hull—pirates.

  He saw Tristan clashing swords with another soldier. “Go! Take your family and leave now. There’s a boat waiting below. I’ll be right behind you.” Tristan defeated his opponent. Then he reached for Leland’s arm and pulled him up.

  He groaned from the pain in his leg while straightening to his full height. “Thank you.”

  “‘Tis I who should be thanking you, Cousin, for helping me see the truth.”

  Tears clouded his eyes as he patted Tristan’s shoulder. “See you soon.” His cousin charged back into the battle while Leland limped in the opposite direction to help Fiona.

  When he arrived, Artair stood over an unconscious man Fiona had knocked in the head with an oar. She dropped it and fell into his embrace. “You came for us.”

  “Of course. I never want to lose you again.”

  “Lee Lay!” Clare shouted, clinging to his leg.

  He kissed both their foreheads, savoring the feeling of them both tucked safely in his arms for a moment. Then he ushered them to the side of the deck with the waiting rowboat. “Come, we must make haste!”

  A minute later they were in the rowboat, being taken to Tristan’s ship. He watched Fergus’ ship with concern, hoping to catch a glimpse of his cousin. Instead he saw Fergus and Lorcan on another boat, escaping. Leland glared in his direction, knowing he would have to fight them again someday, but when he looked at Fiona and Clare beside him, he knew he had much to be thankful for.

  When they reached the pirate ship, Leland’s eyes widened in shock, seeing the vessel belonging to Fergus burst into flames. “Tristan!” His heart pounded at the thought of losing his cousin again after searching for him for so long.

  He had almost lost all hope when Tristan dove off the side of the flaming ship and swam toward them. His men helped him aboard and he stood before Leland soaking wet, with a proud grin on his face. “Fergus may have escaped this time, but the loss of his ship should slow him down.”

  He pulled Tristan into a brotherly hug, surprising them both. “Thank you for coming to our aid, Captain Smyth. What changed your mind?”

  His cousin stepped back awkwardly and patted his shoulder. “A wise person once told me God still had a purpose for me. Perhaps it was to help you bring peace to our kingdom, Cousin.”

  A smile curved on his lips. “Aye, perhaps it was. So, where to from here?”

  “South,” Tristan said while making his way to the captain’s wheel. “I will take you as far as the southern inlet leading to the mountain pass. We should arrive undetected if the wind blows in our favor.”

  Leland nodded his thanks, but then sobered. “‘Tis a shame we couldn’t have helped the villagers hiding in the abbey. Perhaps they will make it to Kiely eventually, now that they know we will welcome them.”

  Tristan nodded, but suppressed a grin like he had a secret. “I hope you won’t mind them coming sooner than you think.”

  Leland stared at his cousin in confusion for a moment as they started south. “I don’t mind in the least. Kiely is a refuge for all. I hope you told them.”

  Tristan’s eyes shifted toward the stairs leading below deck. “I’m busy at the wheel. I’ll let you tell them yourself.”

  When Leland turned to look, he saw men, women and children emerging from below deck. Tristan had planned to rescue the villagers all along. Now he had a place to send them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Diverging Paths

  The first day and night after leaving Aoife were tense for the entire crew. Fiona caught both Leland and Tristan looking north to check for any ships pursuing them. However, by the second day, everyone on board began to relax.

  Fiona stood on the deck watching Clare playing nearby. She had made friends with the villagers’ children almost instantly and they enjoyed various games to keep busy during the journey. Most of them hadn’t enjoyed the sun in a long time, only venturing outside after dark to avoid being seen by Fergus’ men. Fiona felt a kinship with them after living so long in captivity at Dub Hach Fortress under her Uncle Malcolm’s rule. What a wonderful feeling it was to be free.

  Leland came up from behind, his strong arms encircling her waist. “How are you fairing this beautiful morning, my love?”

  She smiled and relaxed in his embrace. “I believe I am happier than I’ve ever been. ‘Tis hard to believe only a few days ago I thought my life would be very different—married to Fergus and sailing north to the Isles. It makes me even more thankful to be sailing south with you.”

  Leland kissed her and then nuzzled his cheek against hers, releasing a deep sigh. “I’d never been so scared in my life, thinking I lost you both.”

  “Me too. Ending our betrothal by letter was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I hope you know I would never wish to hurt you by choice.”

  Leland moved to face her, pausing to frame her face in his hands. “I know you wouldn’t. You did what you had to. I would never blame you for protecting our daughter.”

  “Our daughter,” she repeated tears clouding her eyes.

  He nodded. “Aye, Clare has seemed like mine since the first time I saw her.”

  “You’ve no idea how long I’ve prayed for Clare to have a real father. How co
uld I have known that man would appear the day of her birth. You’ve been there from the beginning.”

  He wiped her tears with his thumb. “Both of you stole my heart that day. I long for nothing more than to be a true husband for you and a true father for Clare.” He pulled her into a passionate kiss, making all her worries drift far away. Nothing else mattered in the moment except their future together.

  “Mama…Lee Lay!” Clare ran up, interrupting the moment, but Fiona didn’t mind in the least.

  Leland scooped the little girl into his arms and hugged her close. “You can call me Papa whenever you wish, Clare. I’ll always be here with you and your mama.”

  She giggled. “I love you, Papa.”

  He smiled and hugged both of them. “And I love you, Clare with all my heart.”

  Fiona’s heart nearly burst from happiness with the realization they would soon be a real family.

  After four days at sea, Tristan’s ship reached the inlet leading to the southern pass of the Óir Mountains. They traveled up the body of water for about an hour before his cousin found a safe place to anchor the vessel. Leland walked with Tristan along the shore and they gazed at the mountains in the distance. “Are you certain you won’t come with us to Kiely. I know the people would welcome you back with open arms.”

  Tristan sighed while picking up a small flat stone and skipping it across the water. “‘Tis more complicated than that, Cousin. They remember me, but I cannot remember them. What kind of king would I be if I cannot remember my subjects?”

  Leland rested his hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Give it time. You will remember them. Being with our people could help you. You’ll see.”

  “Forgive me, but I need more time to sort all this out. For so long I haven’t known who I am. Now that I know, I need to figure out how to accept it.”

  “I understand.”

  Tristan looked at the villagers from Aoife with tears clouding his eyes. “Will you watch over them while I’m gone?”

  Leland nodded. “I will. Take care of yourself, Cousin. Remember, you’ll always have a home in Kiely. Whenever you are ready to return, we’ll be waiting to welcome you back.”

  “Thank you,” Tristan said, pulling him into a tight hug. “We shall meet again soon.”

  A while later, Leland stood on the shore with Fiona, Clare and the survivors from Aoife as Tristan set sail with his crew. They watched and waved until the ship moved out of sight. Then Leland turned and led them toward the mountain pass that would lead them home.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Without Condition

  Lady Sibeal blinked several times as a thin stream of light woke her from a deep sleep. Her abdomen throbbed and she reached down, feeling the outline of the large bandage under her shift. Then the events of the past few weeks came flooding back. She’d been injured saving Leland and Niall had cared for her wounds. He must have brought her to some kind of infirmary.

  She observed the tall shelves filled with medicine bottles and medical supplies. She’d never seen a structure quite like it before. It was similar to a cottage, but with tall thatched ceilings and larger windows, bathing the room in light.

  Sibeal groaned while moving to a sitting position and allowed her legs to hang over the side of the bed. After catching her breath, she moved into a standing position, careful to held her hand over the healing wound in her abdomen. She shuffled across the room toward the nearest window, pausing to move aside a few hanging dried bundles of herbs blocking her view.

  Sibeal squinted, allowing her eyes time to adjust to the light. She saw other structures nearby, some two stories high. In the small earthy place between them, a long narrow garden stretched the width of the structure. A middle-aged woman with graying brown hair bent over the neat rows of plants, picking the mature herbs and some ripe vegetables.

  She stood watching her work for a moment before starting to feel dizzy. Sibeal stumbled backward as the room seemed to tilt on its side. Then she squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of falling on the hard, stone floor.

  Two arms caught her from behind. “‘Tis all right, Milady. You’re safe here,” a deep voice said and when Sibeal opened her eyes, Niall’s handsome face filled her vision. His hazel eyes studied her with curiosity as his hand reached to check her wound. “You should be resting.” He lifted her with care as if she was light as a feather and carried her back to bed. The dizziness faded as he added another pillow so she could sit up and pulled the covers over her. Then he pulled up a small stool and sat beside the bed, reaching for her hand. “How are you faring now?”

  “Better,” she murmured. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness. How long have I been sleeping?”

  “Off and on for a little over a sennight, Milady. You developed an infection and high fever, but I believe you are on the mend now. Do you not remember any of it?”

  Sibeal shook her head. “No, I’m afraid I do not recall.”

  He offered a gentle smile and stroked the top of her hand. “‘Tis probably better that way. I feared a few times I would lose you.” Sibeal gazed into his eyes, noting a hint of worry and then relief. “With plenty of rest, you should make a full recovery.”

  “Thanks to you, Milord.” She squeezed his hand, marveling at how well her petite palm fit in his larger one. “I believe you are a gift from God.” She winced as the throbbing from her wound grew stronger.

  Taking notice of her discomfort, Niall rose from the stool and crushed some herbs into a powder. After adding it to a cup of water, he returned to her side with the mixture. “Here, this will alleviate the pain and help you rest.”

  She sat up with Niall’s help and took a few sips. Sibeal made a face before swallowing. “Oh… ‘tis bitter!”

  Niall chuckled softly. “I apologize, Lady Sibeal. I know the taste is awful, but it works. I have yet to discover something sweet enough to mask the bitterness.”

  He helped her drink the rest before she settled back onto her pillows again, already feeling the effects. Within moments her eyelids started to feel heavy and she fell asleep with Niall’s comforting hand smoothing back her hair.

  After a few more days, Sibeal started regaining her strength enough to eat with Niall and his family. She had discovered the woman tending to the garden was his mother. She also acted as a nurse for patients.

  His father looked like an older version of Niall with warm hazel eyes and dark hair. He was a man of few words, but he was a physician also and had helped heal Sibeal of her infection. Niall had grown up under his father’s tutelage and she could tell he was a good teacher based upon his son’s talent as a physician.

  Sibeal enjoyed eating the midday meal with the family, trying exotic vegetables from their garden she had never heard of. Whenever she asked what something was, Niall or his father took the liberty to also inform her of its health benefits while she continued to heal. The wealth of information was fascinating to Sibeal and she found herself wishing she could stay with Niall’s family. However, she knew once she healed, she would have to return to the fortress to live, if the council allowed her to after she’d conspired with her mother. If Leland did not return soon, it was still a possibility.

  Sensing her change in mood, Niall’s mother gave her a knowing look. “Have you had a chance to write to your mother, dear?”

  Sibeal shook her head. “No, I had Niall inquire for me. She is being kept in the tower. The council will not allow any communication between us. I would have probably been imprisoned, too, if I hadn’t been injured.”

  “They are being cautious, but since you helped King Leland, I’m certain he will allow you to speak with her when he returns.”

  “That is my hope as well. She has done many evil deeds, but she is still my mother and I love her.”

  Niall’s mother nodded and reached for her hand. “Aye, my dear. Of course, you do. Also, I wish for you to know, we do not condemn you for your mother’s deeds. You will always have friends and shelter here no matter what others may say.�
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  Sibeal wiped away a few tears and managed a shaky smile. “Thank you. I cannot express how much I appreciate your kindness.”

  “It has been our pleasure having you as our guest.”

  After eating, Sibeal felt up to a stroll through around the garden. She held onto Niall for support as they walked and he pointed out all the herbs to her and what medicinal properties they had.

  “‘Tis harvest time now. By next week, everything will be picked and hung in bundles to dry.”

  She nodded in amazement. “I never knew plants could be so helpful in providing healing. I love learning about your profession, Niall. It sounds like quite a life—helping people.”

  Niall shrugged. “I believe God is the great healer. He gives us the wisdom and resources. It is really Him working through us to help people.”

  They sat together on a small bench near the perimeter of the garden and she gazed into his eyes. “I’ve never heard anyone speak as you do. ‘Tis fascinating to me.”

  He grinned and leaned closer to her as if sharing a secret. “And your hunger to learn inspires me, Lady Sibeal. ‘Tis a rare person who could listen to hours of my family’s medical babble without falling asleep.”

  Sibeal released a hearty laugh, sending a twinge of pain through her middle. She gasped, clutching her abdomen.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, placing his hand over hers. “Are you all right?”

  “Aye, the pain is gone now.” She regained her composure, pausing to grip his hand that still rested on her abdomen over her healing wound. The concern in his eyes for her well-being sent a warm feeling through her soul. “My whole life, I have been raised to be a queen. My mother never asked me if I wanted that life—she didn’t care. I was to marry Tristan when I came of age. Then when he disappeared, her eye turned to Leland.”

  “I’m sorry, Sibeal. That must have been hard for you.”

  She nodded. “It was, but my father was different. He loved me without condition. When he died, I feared I would never have anyone in my life like that again—someone who would care for me and love me for simply being me.”