With Garrick on one side and Coira on the other, they helped her to her feet, and they made their way through the remainder of the hall.
“Go find him, Garrick,” Kenna replied, with a wave of her hand once she was seated. “I know ye have sent for my husband. I shall be fine till he arrives.”
“Are you sure, Kenna?” Coira asked.
“Aye! Off with the two of ye. I can fend for myself, which is more than can be said for the boy.”
Garrick knew where to search first. As they made their way toward the rear of the kitchen, he halted before a door that led far below into the depths of the keep. He turned toward Coira. “’Tis a foul place I am going. Mayhap ye should stay here.”
Coira protested. “Nay! I go where you go, Garrick. Lead the way.”
He took her hand and descended the narrow stairs leading farther and farther below to the dungeons of the keep. He grabbed a torch from one of the sconces on the wall and began peering into the empty cells.
“Royce!” he called out, and the boy’s name echoed eerily in the underground rooms. There was no answer and Garrick swore. He had been certain this is where the boy would have been hidden.
“What is that? Coira said, pointing to a place on the floor with metal bars over the hole so no one would accidently fall into it.
“God forbid if they threw the lad into that hideous pit!” Garrick fumed. He called out for the boy and waved the torch over the hole. But there was only minor scurrying of whatever rodents occupied the pit and no sign of Royce.
A sigh of relief left Coira’s lips. “Thank goodness he is not down there.”
“Aye, I am glad of it as well. But where else tae look?” He took Coira’s hand and returned the torch to the sconce. They began making their way back up the stairs.
“Think, Garrick. You must know where someone might have taken him.”
“There is only one other place, but I dinnae think anyone other than the immediate members of the MacLaren family knew of it.”
“You have an idea who took Royce?” she asked once they reach the kitchen again.
Garrick began pulling her toward the turret stairs. “Aye. Some of the boys have been playing pranks on Royce. They may be responsible.”
“Why would they do something so dreadful to their liege lord’s son?”
“Perchance ’tis jealousy,” Garrick answered. They reached the floor with a hidden passageway to the strand below. “If such is the case, ’twill not go well once the boy’s parents are confronted by Laird Dristan.”
Garrick stood in front of what appeared to be a solid stone wall. His fingers reaching beneath the facade, he felt the hidden latch and, with a click, released the mechanism and swung open a doorway.
“My word!” Coira gasped.
“’Tis a passageway that leads down to the beach,” Garrick answered, once more taking another torch to light their way. “It has been used by the MacLarens for as long as I can remember tae escape in the event of a siege. Ye must keep it a secret.”
“Of course, I will, Garrick, but if the boys have hidden Royce somewhere in this cave, then ’tis not much of a secret anymore.”
“Ye may be right on that account, my love.” He placed a quick kiss upon her lips. “Watch yer footing. The steps may get slippery.”
With the hidden doorway closing behind them, they were plunged into darkness in the damp passageway. Their only light flickered as they descended the man-made steps. The smell of mildew assaulted their senses but ’twas far preferable than the odors they encountered in Berwyck’s dungeons.
’Twere no other options than going downward, so Garrick was certain they could not miss Royce as they made their way lower. He had just about given up hope when they came to a landing more than half way down. The torch flooded the area. Royce, bound and gagged with tears streaming down his face, sat on a small stool next to a wooden chest.
Relief that they had found the lad flooded through Garrick while Coira rushed to her nephew and began to untie the boy.
She ran her hands over his face looking for injuries then she pulled him into her arms when the boy began to cry.
“Thank God we have found you, Royce,” she cooed.
“They were so mean to me, Aunt Coira.” Royce wrapped his arms around her.
Garrick came to kneel next to them. “Are ye all right, Royce” he asked and suddenly found his arms filled with the lad.
“I knew you would be the one to find me, Garrick,” Royce said and smiled broadly as Garrick released him.
“As long as ye are unharmed, that is all that matters.” Garrick helped Coira to her feet. “We may as well head to the strand. ’Twill be far easier than climbing back up all those stairs.”
Coira took Royce’s hand and Garrick led the rest of the way till they saw a small measure of daylight. The entrance to the cave was hidden by vines and shrubbery but they easily exited the tunnel to encounter what was left of the day.
As they began making their way along the strand toward the castle, some of the knights searching the area saw the three of them and a cheer rang out. The knights’ horses quickly lessened the distance and soon they were all riding back to the keep.
Dristan and Amiria must have been alerted that their son had been found for they were waiting in the stable yard. Amiria gushed over Royce, smothering him with kisses before the lad asked her to stop. Dristan came to the lad and lifted him up into his arms in a fierce hug. With Royce perched on his hip, he turned to Garrick and bowed, mouthing thank you.
Garrick gave him a courtly bow in return before Dristan and Amiria left to take their son inside. The implications of what he had done for his liege lord were momentarily lost on him, for Coira rushed to his side, winding her arms around his neck and pulling his head down.
Her lips met his and Garrick forgot everything else than showing this beautiful lady how much she meant to him.
Chapter 14
Coira stood once more on the parapet staring off to the distant horizon. After a good night’s rest following a celebration that Berwyck’s heir had been found, the morning breeze was refreshing, with a lingering hint of the salty ocean. She had found her home here among her cousin’s people and felt accepted amongst them.
Morgan had sought her out last eve and, after much arguing on his part, she at last convinced the man that her feelings for Garrick would not change. If Dristan would not give his consent that they marry, she would go to a nunnery, for she would not marry another. She prayed such would not be the outcome. Her cousin loved her too much to condemn her to the fate of being a nun without a vocation.
She thought of the last time she had stood here in this exact place, her brother a ghostly vision that put her soul at ease, knowing he would watch over her. Her breath hitched. She knew he was somehow near even though she could not physically see him. Oh, how she missed him.
The turret door creaked open and none other the man of her dreams stepped through the portal with an endearing smile etched across his face.
He pulled on the strap around his shoulder and brought a lute forward. Placing his fingers on the strings he began to play an old Scottish melody that Coira remembered from her youth. He strode forward, still playing, and a look of delighted surprise swept across her face. She had no idea he knew how to play the instrument as he began serenading her.
Garrick brightened her day with the smile he bestowed upon her as he began to draw near. When he reached her side, she returned his smile with one of her own. “I see you are a man of many talents.”
“I would fill all the rest of yer days with music if ye would give me the opportunity,” he replied. Finishing the last few chords, he took the lute and set it up against the wall.
Before she could answer him, he took a hold of her arm and pulled her inside his embrace. Fire rushed throughout her body. She watched in fascination when his pulse quickened at the base of his neck. “Tell me ye feel what is between us? Tell me how, when we touch, ye know inside yer heart we ar
e supposed tae be together. We are like two halves that have become whole, Coira. I knew this the instant I saw ye on the lists that day. Did ye feel the same way, too?”
Coira nodded. “I will not lie and say I did not feel some connection between us. I cannot even explain how I wandered onto the lists. I have no recollection of walking in your direction. I only knew I had somehow unknowingly moved forward to get closer to one knight in particular. That knight was you… even though I had no idea who you were.” She watched him attempt to get control of himself and then she stepped closer.
Her arms went around his waist, and he reached up to brush away the tears falling gently down her cheeks. “And what of our kisses, lassie? Have ye thought about those too?” Garrick inquired.
A gasp escaped her, knowing Garrick had also thought about those kisses they had shared. He took hold of her face and watched her closely whilst awaiting her answer.
“I have dreamed of your kisses, Garrick. You honored me with my first kiss, and I want you to be the one who gives me my last,” she replied, smiling and beginning to blush.
He placed a kiss upon her forehead before once more holding her close. “I will have ye know that I have spoken tae Fira and told her I love another. She willnae be bothering us anymore.”
"You were kind to her when you told her your affections went to another?” Coira asked softly.
"Aye. As kind as I could be. She wasnae pleased but I believe she understood. In truth, I have no idea why she thought I cared for her as more than just a friend. I swear I never encouraged her,” Garrick muttered.
“Let us not speak more of her. I believe you owe me a kiss,” Coira urged with a laugh.
“Do I now?” he teased, as he tilted her chin so she had no choice but to look up into his mesmerizing eyes.
“Aye, you do, Garrick of Clan MacLaren,” she said happily. “I meant it when I told Dristan I loved you.”
“As I love you, my sweet lass,” Garrick murmured, caressing her cheek.
Coira’s heart rejoiced at his reply before he leaned down to brush his lips against hers. His moan of pleasure removed any further fears that he did not love her as she did him. He deepened their kiss and wound his arms around Coira, pulling her closer. She kissed him back just as fiercely, as though she never wished to let him go.
The chink chink of chainmail from a nearby knight keeping guard as he paced the battlement wall brought them back to their senses. Garrick released Coira and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He kissed her forehead whilst she composed herself and ensured she appeared presentable.
“What do we do now?” she asked in a breathy whisper, her lips most likely rosy red from his kisses.
“I am sure ’twill come tae us,” he replied, sounding full of hope.
Garrick held out his hand to her, and she clasped her fingers within his. He lifted her hand to his lips before tucking her trembling limb in the crook of his arm. Grabbing his lute, he guided her towards the turret door. She nudged herself closer to his side, and her heart soared, knowing she had somehow captured her piper’s heart.
Epilogue
Berwyck’s Great Hall
One Fortnight Later
Garrick entered the great hall and a loud cheer roared throughout the crowded room.
Was it only last eve that his liege lord had met him in his hall asking Garrick to accompany him to the outer bailey? As they made their way outside, Laird Dristan began explaining he had a gift to bestow upon Garrick for saving his son. But Garrick never expected to see what was before him.
Coira stood smiling next to a pair of fully kitted out war horses. A servant held chainmail and helmet and a full array of knightly weapons were nearby. For him? Surely not. He could afford to maintain his own horse, but not two more, and expensive war horses at that.
He turned his attention from the horses in time to see Laird Dristan exchange a smile with Coira. He told all who were listening that his ward’s husband would have no problem keeping her in the style to which she was accustomed. Coira came to him, holding out her hand. He gladly took it, placing a kiss upon her knuckles. Her eyes shone like the brightest of stars.
Their moment was brief and interrupted when Laird Dristan ordered Garrick to follow a servant to his new quarters in the family wing. He was to bathe, dress, and spend the night in prayer in the chapel. Tomorrow he would be knighted, an honor he had earned for the training he had done over the past several months along for his bravery and cleverness in finding Dristan’s son.
His gaze swept the room until his eyes landed on the lady of his choice. Now that he was in truth a knight of the realm and his laird’s blessing had been given, Garrick felt worthy enough to wed the fair Coira.
He watched as Royce began playing with the very same boys that had been tormenting him. After a substantial punishment from their parents that befitted their young age, the boys had been forgiven and Garrick hoped there would be peace between the lads from now on. Friendships that sometimes lasted a lifetime could begin after such a misunderstanding.
There was no further time to contemplate young Royce. Not when Coira rushed up to him and grasped his hand. He lifted hers to his lips. “Sir Garrick, you are looking particularly handsome today,” she whispered, pulling him to an alcove where they would not be seen.
“And ye are looking lovely today as well, my lady,” he declared, before kissing her lips. But he did not linger longer than necessary and brought her once more forward so they were seen. “Dinnae look so disappointed, lassie. I willnae have my laird declaring I am unfit to wed ye now that he has given his blessing.”
“We can talk about our wedding another day, Garrick. Today belongs to you,” Coira murmured as she once more took his hand.
“I never thought tae have earned myself the honor of being one of Laird Dristan’s guardsmen,” Garrick said quietly.
She patted his arm. “You have earned the right to stand with them, my love. Never forget how hard you have been training. You have more than proved your worth, not only to be called a knight amongst them, but also to be my husband.”
He looked down upon her whilst she smiled brightly upon him. “Ye shall not regret that we wed?” he asked, momentarily uncertain about her feelings for him. He ran his finger down her cheek before she took his hand and placed a kiss inside his palm.
“We belong together, Garrick of Clan MacLaren, whether you are a knight or the clan’s piper. We shall have many happy years ahead of us and today is only the beginning. Let us dance!” she proclaimed with a laugh.
He leaned down and placed another quick kiss upon her lips before she left his side to join in the celebration. He lovingly watched her as she joined the women in a lively dance. When the vague image of her brother briefly revealed himself to Garrick, the ghost nodded his approval before he once more disappeared.
Garrick smiled in relief, but today was not the day to ponder what the future may hold. As long as Coira was happy to be the piper’s lady, Garrick would do all within his power to ensure she never regretted her decision to love him.
’Twas a good beginning. He was content.
* * *
Sherry Ewing needs your help!
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Author Notes
Dearest Reader:
Thank you so much for purchasing this extended edition of The Piper’s Lady. I hope you enjoyed Garrick and Coira’s journey to finding love! How about
a little lesson with history?
I know when most people think of bagpipes, we think of the Scottish Highlands and gorgeous men in kilts. But did you know that my research had me learning that the possible ancient origins of the bagpipe dates back to 1000 BC? Considering the title of this novella, it was important for me to ensure that some form of bagpipe existed in twelfth-century England.
As an example, take a look at this sculpture of a medieval bagpiper at Monastery of Santes Creus, Catalonia, Spain, constructed between 1174 and 1225. It’s not what we envision today, but shows that some form of a reed pipe with a bladder was used during this period in time.
Château d'Usson was used at the beginning of The Piper’s Lady for the location of where Morgan at last found Coira and her grandfather. “The castle dates from the 11th century (perhaps earlier) and during the Cathar period marked the eastern boundary of the territories of the Counts of Foix. In the 12th century, this was the capital of the Donézan region. Before the défilé was cut through the mountains to link Quillan to Axat, this was an inaccessible outpost providing succour for faidits and other persecuted Cathars. The Cathar bishop of Toulouse Guilhabert de Castres is known to have taken refuge here. Towards the end of the wars against the Cathars, this was one of their last sanctuaries, providing support for Montségur. The seigneurs of Usson, Bernard d'Alion, lord of the Château de Montaillou, and his brother Arnaud d'Usson sent arms and supplies to their besieged comrades there. On 15 March 1244, the day before 225 Cathar parfaits were burned alive at Montségur, four other parfaits left the castle there for Usson, where the Cathar treasure had been evacuated a few months earlier. This mystery has fed a number of theories about the equally mysterious treasure supposedly found at Rennes-le-Château in the 19th century.” (reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Château_d%27Usson)
The Piper’s Lady: The MacLarens (Book Three) Page 7
