Awoken: A Medieval Scottish Romance (The Sisters of Kilbride Book 2)

by Jayne Castel

  It was slow going with the deer. Coira had hog-tied its fetlocks and hung it from the quarter-staff. They carried each end of the staff upon their shoulders, and the dead weight of the beast was starting to make Leanna’s shoulder and back ache. She had grown physically stronger during her time at Kilbride—it was no pampered lady’s life here—yet the doe was heavier than it looked.

  By the time she spied the pitched roof of Kilbride kirk piercing the sky, Leanna was sweating heavily.

  “Can we stop and rest for a moment,” she panted as they reached a hazel thicket that encircled the southern and eastern edges of the abbey. “My shoulder can’t take much more.”

  Coira halted before turning to her with a smile. She then lowered the deer onto the ground. “We still need to toughen ye up, I see,” she teased.

  Leanna huffed. “I’m tough enough.”

  Running an eye over her friend, she saw that Coira had barely broken into a sweat. The nun was tall and broad-shouldered, and in addition to training the other sisters in archery and use of the quarter-staff, she was also Kilbride’s resident healer. Leanna looked up to her—Coira was a formidable woman indeed—yet there was something about her that always remained an enigma.

  Coira never spoke of her past.

  All Leanna knew was that the nun hailed from Dunan and her family had been farmers. She knew very little else about her.

  “I’m not as strong as ye though,” Leanna admitted finally, with the playful grin she often used with Coira. “I think I need to haul a few more buckets of water from the well to build up strength in my arms and shoulders.”

  Coira snorted before picking up the staff once more. “Maybe, I need to put ye on log splitting duty for a moon or two. That should give ye arms like a smithy.”

  Leanna’s grin abruptly disappeared. The thought of having bulky, heavily muscled arms like a man revolted her. “Don’t ye dare!”

  Coira’s laugh rang out, the sound echoing through the trees. It was a rare thing to hear the nun show mirth so openly. Sometimes Coira could seem so … severe. But not this afternoon. Like Leanna, her mood had lightened when she was away from the abbey.

  Leanna was about to comment on this change, but Coira was already moving forward, and Leanna had to scramble to pick up her end of the staff. Gritting her teeth, she heaved it back onto her aching shoulder, and they resumed their journey.

  “How are we supposed to get inside … there’s no way we can scale those walls?”

  The rumble of Carr Broderick’s voice drew Ross’s attention from where he’d been observing Kilbride Abbey. His friend, whom he’d brought along on this mission, wore an inscrutable expression, although his gaze was wary.

  Like Ross, he hadn’t been pleased to be involved in this abduction. But just like Ross, he too wasn’t about to cross MacKinnon.

  The pair of them were crouched amongst the undergrowth in the hazel thicket to the east of the abbey. They’d been there for at least an hour, and so far neither of them had a plan.

  “Aye … ye have a point,” Ross murmured. He shifted his attention back to the high walls before him. From the outside, the abbey looked as if it was built to withstand a siege. A deep ditch ringed the base of the outer walls, and heavy oaken and iron gates shielded the complex from the outside world.

  If they wanted to enter Kilbride, they would have to do so through those gates—and that would mean announcing their arrival. Locating and then stealing Lady Leanna once they were inside would be close to impossible.

  Ross had seen the young woman once before, at a clan gathering. He remembered her as being small, blonde, and delicate-featured. However, all the nuns looked the same shrouded in black, their heads covered by veils.

  They’d never find her.

  Frustration welled up within Ross, and he dragged his hands through his shaggy hair.

  Damn MacKinnon. He’d given him an impossible task.

  The clan-chief didn’t care what lengths Ross went to in order to retrieve the woman he wished to wed. He’d made his position clear: Ross wasn’t to return to Dunan empty-handed.

  Muttering a curse under his breath, Ross glanced Carr’s way once more. “Maybe we should—”

  “Look!” Carr raised a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. “The abbey has visitors.”

  Swiveling back toward the gates, Ross’s gaze alighted upon a company of men on horseback who’d just emerged from the trees to the south. And as the riders drew near, he saw they wore sashes made of red plaid with green cross-hatching.

  The tension that Ross had been holding in his shoulders all day slowly eased. He didn’t want the task he’d been assigned, but this development was going to make it so much easier.

  “MacDonald men,” he whispered before flashing Carr a triumphant grin. “It looks like we won’t have to enter the abbey after all … our quarry is going to come to us.”

  Carr smiled back. “Good … let’s get the job done and go home. MacKinnon will be waiting.”

  2

  I Must Say Goodbye

  AS SHE APPROACHED Kilbride, Leanna was surprised to see the abbey gates open. Usually, the abbess insisted they be kept closed. However, Coira didn’t comment on it, and the two nuns entered the wide, dusty yard. Kilbride kirk rose before them, dominating the two wings of buildings that stretched either side.

  They carried their prize to a lean-to behind the stables, and Coira strung the doe up by its hind-legs. Drawing a knife from her waist, she prepared to gut the beast, while Leanna went to fetch pails for the blood and offal. She had just placed the buckets underneath when the scuff of footfalls behind them made her turn.

  Mother Shona, Abbess of Kilbride, approached. She was a small woman of middling age, yet she walked with a determined stride. A large iron cross lay upon her breast. This afternoon her pretty, if a little careworn, face was unusually serious.

  “Good day, Mother,” Leanna greeted her before hastily dropping onto one knee and bowing her head. Likewise, next to her, Coira sheathed her knife and did the same.

  Mother Shona stepped close and hastily waved the sign of the cross. “Rise,” she murmured softly, “or ye shall dirty yer habits.”

  Both Leanna and Coira did as bid.

  The abbess’s gaze settled upon Leanna then, her brown eyes shadowing. “I’m glad ye have returned earlier than expected,” she said. Her tone was gentle, although her expression was now troubled. “For ye have visitors.”

  Leanna went still.

  In her two years at Kilbride, no one had paid her a visit. She had asked for permission a number of times, yet Mother Shona had always refused, telling her that her transition into their world would be made harder if she didn’t sever all ties with her old life. Leanna liked the abbess, but she had resented her initially for her refusal.

  As such, it came as a shock to know someone had called upon her here.

  “Who is it?” Leanna finally asked.

  The abbess’s features tightened for a heartbeat, before she replied. “A group of yer father’s men from Duncaith.”

  Sister Leanna of Kilbride sat upon her sleeping pallet and stared at the floor. She was alone in the dormitory this afternoon. The other nuns who shared these sleeping quarters were still busy with their chores. Sunlight filtered in through a single narrow window at one end of the long rectangular space, pooling on the flagstone floor. Unseeing, Leanna continued to stare at the circle of light.

  Her body felt cold, her limbs weak. Time had slowed down; she was painfully aware of the rasp of her own breathing and the dull thud of her pulse.

  The MacDonald men had brought ill-tidings.

  She’d known by the abbess’s behavior that something was amiss—and when Leanna had entered the chapter house, she found herself face-to-face with Evan, her father’s right-hand.

  The grim look upon his face had made dread sweep over her in a chill wave, and when he spoke, Leanna’s knees had buckled under her. “Yer father is dead, lass … I am sorry.”

 
It had been a hunting accident. He had fallen from his horse and hit his head. Leanna almost hadn’t believed it. Niall MacDonald was an excellent horseman and hunting was in his blood. She couldn’t comprehend how he’d met his end doing something he loved.

  She couldn’t comprehend that she’d never see him again.

  When she’d come to live at Kilbride it had been a wrench to leave her father, but he’d still been alive and there had always been the possibility that he’d visit the abbey one day. Still, Leanna had missed him terribly. She’d always been his ‘princess’, his ‘jewel’—she’d spent much of her childhood trailing in his shadow.

  Her heart actually ached from the force of the sorrow that now pulsed through her.

  Tears trickled down Leanna’s face, but she didn’t move to brush them away. Instead, she remained seated upon her pallet, like a statue carven from ice.

  And yet heat flushed through her as the long moments stretched out. Her hands, which lay upon her lap, balled into fists, her nails biting into her palms. Anger swept over her, warring with the knot of grief that twisted in her breast.

  How could God let this happen?

  She’d never wanted to take the veil. She’d never felt the ‘calling’ that many of the other women here had. But she’d wanted to wed Duncan MacKinnon even less. Her father, determined to keep the MacKinnon clan-chief from his first-born daughter, had sent Leanna here. She’d been upset with her father at first; she had felt betrayed. She wasn’t interested in dedicating her life to serving God, to giving up all her possessions and any hope of taking a husband and having children. It seemed like a great sacrifice indeed.

  Her mother and younger sisters all wept when they heard the news, but Niall MacDonald had been resolved. MacKinnon had developed an obsession with Leanna after meeting her at a gathering between their two clans the previous summer. Her few conversations with him had left her shaken and him determined to have her. He wouldn’t let it go.

  Leanna squeezed her eyes shut, but still the tears flowed, burning down her cheeks. The ache in her chest increased, and she raised a hand, rubbing at her breast bone with her knuckles.

  Her father had been a good man. He’d deserved to live to an old age.

  Leanna clenched her jaw so tightly that pain lanced through her ears. Indeed, there was no fairness, no justice at all in this life—when men like Duncan MacKinnon lived and her father died.

  The door to the dormitory creaked open, causing Leanna to snap out of her grief-induced trance. Sister Coira had come to check on her. The nun’s violet eyes were shadowed with concern, her proud face taut. She approached Leanna without a word before settling down upon the pallet next to her.

  Still silent, Coira reached out, placing her hands over Leanna’s.

  Leanna’s breathing hitched, a sob escaping. It was easier to cope, easier to keep a leash on her sorrow when she was alone. But in the face of Coira’s kindness, she crumbled.

  Leaning into her friend’s shoulder, she wept.

  Coira didn’t speak. Instead, she merely sat and held her, and Leanna gave herself up to the sorrow that swept over her in a tempest.

  Eventually, her sobbing ceased, and she moved back from Coira. Drawing in a shaky breath, Leanna wiped at her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her habit. “I can’t believe he’s actually gone … it all seems like a dark dream.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Coira replied softly. “He died so suddenly … may the Lord rest his soul.”

  Leanna looked up, her gaze meeting Coira’s for the first time since she had broken down. Her father had been a God-fearing man. Part of him had been proud to gift his eldest daughter to the abbey. She hoped that Coira was right, that he was at peace now, and that God was watching over him. Her throat constricted as tears welled once more.

  It was no good—she couldn’t see the positive in this. The two years she’d spent at Kilbride had not given her the same faith her father had.

  “We should go to the kirk and pray for him,” Coira said after a pause. “Do ye feel strong enough to do so?”

  Leanna swallowed hard. “I can’t, Sister Coira. My father’s men are waiting for me. I’m supposed to be in here gathering my things. They’re preparing Da for burial in Duncaith and awaiting my arrival.”

  Coira’s gaze widened. “Ye are going away?”

  Leanna nodded. “Just for a couple of days … Ma wishes me to be there when they bury him.”

  “Has Mother Shona agreed to this?”

  Something in Coira’s voice made Leanna tense. “Aye,” she replied warily. “Although she isn’t happy about it … ye don’t look pleased either?”

  Coira sat back, expelling a long breath as she did so. “It’s not a good idea for nuns to leave the abbey,” she said, holding Leanna’s eye steadily. “Look what happened to Sister Ella.”

  A strange thrill went through Leanna at these words, momentarily overshadowing her grief. How she’d been jealous of Ella’s new life as wife to Gavin MacNichol—a man as kind-hearted and strong as he was handsome.

  “I won’t be away for long,” she replied, shoving aside the sensation. Resolve caused her spine to straighten and her shoulders to square, even as the loss felt like a kick to the chest. “I have to go … I must say goodbye to my father.”

  A group of nuns had gathered in the yard before the kirk when Leanna finally emerged from the dormitory. She carried little with her, just a leather satchel slung across her front.

  Many of the sisters wore sad expressions, their gazes full of empathy. However, there were some, such as Sister Elspeth, who looked disapproving. The older woman folded her arms across a flat bosom and fixed Leanna with a stern stare.

  Leanna ignored her. Sister Elspeth had never been a friend of hers. More often than not the nun wore a sour look, as if the whole world offended her. She’d disliked Sister Ella, and as Leanna had been close to her, she had also received Sister Elspeth’s jaundiced eye.

  “Ye are yet a novice,” Sister Elspeth greeted her. “It is not seemly for ye to go riding off … with a company of men.” The nun spoke that last word with clear distaste. Her gaze shifted then, to the group of horses that were being saddled outside the stables near the gates. “A sister with true devotion to the Lord would remain here.”

  The nuns flanking Sister Elspeth started nodding in agreement. News of Leanna’s imminent departure had caused quite a stir it appeared.

  Leanna regarded Sister Elspeth coldly. Heat flashed across her chest as anger surged once more. She didn’t care what this sour-faced witch thought of her, and she didn’t care if every last one of the nuns here questioned her faith.

  Right now, she needed to be at home in Duncaith.

  She wanted to see her mother and sisters again, to lay her father’s body to rest. She had no patience for this woman’s judgement, and she was about to tell her so in very blunt terms when Mother Shona’s voice interrupted them. “That’s enough, Sister Elspeth.”

  A small figure glided through the crowd of nuns. They parted to allow the abbess to approach, and Sister Elspeth hurriedly stepped back, her mouth compressing.

  “Sister Leanna grieves for her father’s sudden death … we shall not make this parting more difficult for her.”

  Mother Shona stopped before Leanna, meeting her eye.

  Wordlessly, Leanna dropped to one knee, waiting while the abbess blessed her. When she rose to her feet, Leanna met Mother Shona’s eye and guilt twisted in her breast. Unlike Sister Elspeth, the abbess had only ever treated her well.

  Leanna averted her gaze. She should really feel more gratitude for all that Mother Shona had done for her. Leanna’s life at Kilbride was much better than many folk living upon this isle could hope for. She worked hard, but she always had food to fill her belly and a warm fire to keep the winter’s chill at bay. She had company and a bed of her own.

  Leanna knew she should be grateful, yet at that moment she couldn’t wait to be away from Kilbride. It suddenly felt as if the walls were clos
ing in on her. The shock of her father’s death had ripped something from her, torn away all pretense.

  The truth was that she wasn’t completely happy here.

  The tightness in Leanna’s chest increased as panic now wormed its way up. She couldn’t leave the order. In just a couple of months, she would be expected to take her vows of perpetuity. Suddenly, she felt as if she were standing in a dark dungeon watching the doors slowly close before her. Soon, she’d be trapped here forever.

  Maybe this trip back to Duncaith, seeing her family again, would make her appreciate Kilbride more. Her mother was prone to whining, and her sisters bickered constantly.

  Probably, she would miss the peace of this abbey.

  She certainly hoped so—for she wasn’t sure what she’d do if the opposite occurred. What if she never wanted to come back here?

  After a long pause, Leanna raised her gaze once more, meeting the abbess’s eye. “Thank ye for allowing this journey, Mother Shona,” she murmured, forcing down her simmering panic. “I won’t linger at Duncaith. As soon as father has been buried, I will return.” She inwardly cringed as she said these words, sure her voice would betray her.

  The abbess nodded, her gaze holding Leanna’s fast. “Take these days to reflect, Sister Leanna,” she said softly.

  Shame filtered over Leanna then, causing her cheeks to warm. Like the other sisters here, she hated to disappoint Mother Shona. The woman wasn’t like any other she’d met. Gently spoken and kind-hearted, the abbess also possessed a will of iron.

  Mother Shona had a shadowy past, and after being elected as abbess, she’d revealed that she knew how to wield a knife, a sword, a longbow, and a quarter-staff. Her time living rough on the mainland years earlier had given her a set of unusual skills. Unlike most women, the abbess could also defend herself with her bare hands if need be.