by Olivia Rae
“Then go with God. I shall pray until you return.”
Audrey squeezed the older woman’s hand. “Be careful, you will still have to deal with Ewart’s men once they realize what has happened.”
Lady Francis’s lips pressed thin. The determined gleam in her eye gave Audrey courage. “We will disarm them before their puny noggins can sort out the details. Just find my son and bring him safely home.”
After giving Lady Francis a hug, Audrey swiftly left the chapel, descended the spiral steps, and saw Ewart’s men standing at the base of the tower. With a swish of her hips, she approached them. “My, what a lovely day.” She puffed out her chest and shielded her eyes from the sun. “I would so love to take a ride.”
Three men voiced their agreement while staring at her as if she was a savory treat. One frowned, and the fifth, who clearly was in charge, shook his head. “Not possible, mistress. Only Master Ewart can take ye out.”
Audrey sighed. “Nay, he is already in his cups, snoring away. I fear he will not awake until later, and I do so want to ride, to dip my toes in the river.” She twirled a lock of her hair around a finger and slid her slipper temptingly across the ground.
The leader rubbed his stubble beard while the others cheered, offering to be her chaperone. “I dinnae think it would be a good idea. What if Master Ewart wakes?”
Flipping her long braid over her shoulder, Audrey strolled toward the leader. “He’ll not wake for some time. Surely a little ride could not hurt,” she whispered in his ear.
The man’s eyeballs bulged when she licked her lips. “What’s a short ride.” He pulled at the top of his breeks and ordered another to take charge.
They were out of the gate before another soul protested. With a swift kick, Audrey’s horse galloped away. The eager man followed and did not notice Fraser standing behind a copse of trees with his sword drawn.
Carefully, Audrey brought her palfrey to a stop before jumping to the ground. “Come, follow me.” She giggled and twisted her hips, before running right to the trees where Fraser hid.
Whack! The man didn’t know what hit him.
“Is he dead?” Audrey asked, not wanting to cause another man’s death, even if he was a leech.
Fraser hauled the man up against a tree, tied him up, and stuffed a cloth in his mouth. “I’m hopin’ so. But I will not take the chance.” He motioned to the two horses. “We have no time to waste.”
Audrey closed her eyes and sent up a quick prayer. Dear Lord, this scoundrel is in your hands. You decide his fate. And please, let us not be too late to save your servant, Gavin.
The hollowness reappeared in her chest as Gavin’s words reverberated through her memory. “Save your prayers. I do not believe in God.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Heavy rain pelted Gavin’s back as they rode into Perth. The ride had been rough and long. All he wanted was a plate of food, a mug of ale, and a soft bed. However, considering the late hour and the dark buildings, he’d be lucky to find a hard stone to place his head.
At least Ualan, Maxwell, and his men were dressed like servants and not like a bunch of marauding reivers come to ransack the town. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t meet the hangman’s noose.
Lightning cracked above their heads. “We should seek shelter and continue on in the morning,” Gavin suggested.
Maxwell scratched his beard. “Ye might be right. No sense raisin’ suspicions by arrivin’ in the middle of the night. We passed an inn not far back. Let us try to rouse the innkeeper.”
After retracing their route, Maxwell dismounted and pounded on the inn’s door. The innkeeper was not amused at being woken from his warm bed in the middle of the night, but he quickly changed his demeanor when Maxwell laid a healthy sum of coins before him. The men drank ale and ate cold mutton while Gavin and Maxwell were led to a room at the end of the hall.
“’Tis all I have.” The innkeeper rubbed his large belly as the voices of Ualan and the others filled the inn. “If they break anythin’, it will cost ye extra.”
Maxwell waved off the landlord and shut the chamber door in his face. He eyed the narrow bed in the corner. “I’ll be takin’ the bed. Ye can have the floor. In the mornin’, ye will go along with Ualan and a few others. I will stay here since Stewart knows me. We dinnae need him to become suspicious.” Maxwell rolled onto the bed without giving Gavin a second glance.
If this missive was so important, why would Maxwell put a bumbling fool like Ualan in charge? All the way here, he drank excessively and did not seem to care who followed them. The man would have no compunction to kill any who crossed his path. ’Twas like they were purposely trying to draw attention to themselves. Something was amiss.
Gavin placed his bundle under his head and stared at the ceiling, listening to Maxwell’s heavy breathing. Obtaining one mysterious message was a small price to pay to fulfill his bargain. At least they dinnae ask him to spill a Reformer’s blood.
* * *
A swift kick in the leg awoke Gavin with a start. Rays of early morning light streamed into the small window. Every bone in his body ached. He rolled to his side before Maxwell kicked him again.
“Get up and make yerself presentable. Yer goin’ to be meetin’ James Stewart today,” Maxwell snarled.
Gavin sat up and reached for his bundle, which possessed a clean leather jack and breeks. At least this day the roles would be reversed. He would be the laird while Ualan would be his servant. “How long will it be before your man with the missive contacts me?”
“Dinnae be worried about that. He will find ye and make sure ye do exactly what he tells ye.”
The back of Gavin’s neck itched. “What do you mean, do whatever he says? I’m picking up the message and nothing more.”
Maxwell shrugged, opened the door, and called for Ualan. “Be quick about it. The exchange needs to be done before John Knox makes any more fancy speeches.” The talk of the preacher surprised Gavin. Was he the man who would give him the missive? Nay, probably not. What would a Reformer have to do with a bunch of staunch papists?
Gavin yanked on his boots and followed Maxwell out the door.
“Besides Ualan, only two others will go with ye. We dinnae need to draw attention.”
This? Just what did this missive contain? There had to be more to this plan than what he was told.
With few words, they mounted their horses and headed farther into town. They made their way to a row of rough stone houses off a narrow road. A heavy stench of urine wafted from the buildings’ corners. They stopped in the shadows not far from Stewart’s house. Ualan’s gaze fixed on a thick wooden door with a crumbling stoop littered with broken branches and bird droppings. One would think this was the home of a poor merchant instead of the temporary residence of James Stewart. A guard dressed in a heavy cloak stood at door.
Ualan pointed at the structure. “That be the place.” His gaze shifted to the other riders. “Stay here. Armstrong and I will go on alone. Once the guard is dead, one of ye can follow. The other stay here in case there is trouble.” Ualan took out a wheel-lock pistol and exposed the dagger in his belt. He glared at Gavin. “Dinnae try anything. Now then, let’s get this deed over with.”
“Deed?” Gavin stuttered. “You mean kill Stewart?” Ualan’s venomous eyes answered Gavin’s question.
“Aye, and ye are along to take the blame.” Ualan spat on the ground. “Small price to pay to keep yer children breathin’.”
The message was well taken. Gavin would be used as the scapegoat in order to get rid of a powerful man that influenced many in Scotland. “The court would be in an uproar if Stewart, the half-brother of Queen Mary, was murdered.”
“Stewart is a traitor to our queen and to our faith. But he be only one of the targets. Knox is in there with him. Now get goin’ before the guard becomes suspicious.” Ualan aimed the pistol at Gavin and used his thighs to urge the horses forward, keeping his hands free. They rode on in parallel formation.
It all made sense now. Knox being a powerful orator was swaying many to the Reformed Faith. His death could break the backs of his followers. Or the man could become a martyr to a cause. Either way, there could be a war between Scots if both Knox and Stewart perished.
This was lunacy. This was a disaster. This was Maxwell’s brilliant plan. He didn’t care about his faith or who ruled Scotland. Not with so many lives in peril. Maxwell saw this as a way to destroy Gavin and probably gain control of Warring Tower once again, expanding his power in the borderlands. Why did Maxwell’s hatred run so deep? Gavin needed a plan, and quickly, to save these men and his family from butchery.
His mind raced as he tried to figure out a way to disarm Ualan and alert those within. A loud shout from behind momentarily distracted Ualan’s attention. Gavin leaned over and reached for the gun. The horses lurched, sending both of them to the ground. The guard at Stewart’s door called out a warning, pulling his sword from its sheath. Sweat broke on Gavin’s brow, and his arms shook as he rolled in the mud trying to disarm Ualan. Gavin lost his grip, and Ualan jumped to his feet, pointing the weapon at Gavin’s head. This was it, he had tried his best, but he had failed his family once again. If there was a hell, he was on his way to it.
Ualan laughed and took aim. “It be my pleasure to stop yer heart.”
A slap of footsteps and a loud cry bounced off the buildings. A boot like a flash of lightning came out of nowhere and kicked the gun from Ualan’s hand. He cried out, watching the weapon fly through the air. Quickly, Gavin stood up and grabbed the dagger from Ualan’s belt, plunging it into the man’s chest.
And then time slowed. Ualan’s eyes widened as his body pitched forward. With a gurgle, he fell face-first into the mud.
Behind Ualan, rumpled and out of breath, stood Audrey. The loveliest lass in the world.
“Is he dead?” she asked, paling. “I feared we would be too late.”
Gavin nudged Ualan’s body with his foot. “Aye, I believe so.” He wanted to wrap her in his arms forever. “Are you hurt? I told Fraser to keep you safe.”
Stewart’s guard was upon them, poking a sword into Gavin’s back. “Hold there.”
Fraser came limping down the wynd, blood oozing from his shoulder. Reading the concern in Gavin’s eyes, Fraser waved off. “’Tis only a small stab wound.” He glanced down at Ualan’s body. “I see ye are still a better fighter than a Maxwell.”
“Not at all. I still breathe because Mistress Audrey has a fair kick.” He gave her a smile filled with delight. Tearing his gaze from her, Gavin looked to his cousin, wincing as the guard still held the blade to his back. “Are ye all right?”
“Aye, but one of them got away.”
The gravity of the situation chilled Gavin’s soul. If alerted, Maxwell would head straight for Warring Tower. Before Gavin could make his case to the guard, the door burst open and out stepped two more armed guards followed by James Stewart and an older bearded gentleman who could only be John Knox.
“What goes here?” Stewart demanded, holding a sword in his hand.
The guard stammered about trying to explain the fight that killed Ualan.
“If you please, I can clear this up,” Gavin said, inching closer toward Stewart. Immediately all weapons turned on him.
Recognition came slowly to Stewart. “Laird Armstrong? Is that you? What happened, man?”
“This papist was sent to kill you and Knox.” Gavin flinched. He should have chosen his words more carefully for Audrey and Fraser were Catholics too, and yet they had come to his aid.
“I knew this place wasnae safe,” Knox said, stepping to Stewart’s side.
“Hush, John,” Stewart cautioned, his gaze traveling up and down the wynd. “This is not the place to have this discussion.”
Gavin carefully clasped his hands. “This man’s kin, Laird Rory Maxwell, holds my family hostage, and unless I followed his orders, he will kill my sons and my mother. Had I known about such a plot to kill you earlier, I would have found a way to send a warning, but I only discovered the truth moments ago. I beg you to let me go. My family’s lives are at stake.”
Fraser stumbled forward. “Ewart was tied up like a goose when we left, and yer mother was goin’ to send Duncan to my da for help. I think they are safe at the moment.”
Only if Hew Armstrong chose to help. He might just as well ignore Duncan’s pleas. The look of uncertainty in Fraser’s eyes spoke of his doubts as well. “If your father is in a forgiving mood. Maxwell will rip every brick from Warring’s foundation to get to my family. Maybe ’tis best you stay here and heal up. Mistress Audrey and you can follow later.”
Stewart frowned listening to the exchange. He seemed to be mulling the situation over in his mind. If he did not believe Gavin, then his family was doomed.
“We cannae afford a border squabble at this time. We have much at stake. Dinnae get involved in this,” Knox pleaded.
Again Stewart scanned his surroundings and then nodded. “I have no proof if your words are false or true. But I have always known you to be a fair man. Take one of my guards and I hope you can find this Maxwell.”
“My thanks.” Even though Gavin was eager to depart, the weariness in Audrey’s face did not escape him. “I have one other request. Could you give aid to my friends? Without Mistress Hayes’s and my cousin Fraser Armstrong’s help, I am sure we all would be dead.”
“I’m fine,” Fraser growled, wincing as he tried to throw his shoulders back.
“Nay, you are not,” Gavin snapped before he turned back to Stewart.
For the second time, Stewart hesitated while Knox shook his head. Audrey folded her hands and bowed her head. Her lips began to silently move. Did she pray?
The uncertainty in Stewart’s countenance seeped away. “All right. They may stay until they are well and able to travel.” Stepping aside, Stewart gave them entry.
Knox shrugged and recited a prayer as he went back into the house.
Before Gavin could make it to his horse, Audrey rushed over and gave him a hug. “Godspeed,” she whispered.
He tightened the embrace, cherishing the moment, absorbing the warmth and spring garden fragrance that was his lovely Audrey. “All will be fine. Come along when Fraser is healed.” He pulled away and looked into her moist eyes. How he wished to kiss her tears away, but not now, not in front of Stewart and Fraser. “Thank ye for saving me. You are as good with a kick as you are with a dagger.”
Her thick lashes fluttered as she blushed and stifled a smile.
Fraser coughed as beads of sweat formed on his brow. “I am fine now. No need for us to stay.”
“Nay, and I have no time to argue.” Gavin picked up Ualan’s dagger, then pinned Fraser with a rigid glare. “This time watch over her, or I swear I will have your head.”
Fraser’s shoulders slumped, and his head tipped to his chest. Audrey rushed over to him. “He has lost a lot of blood. Worry not. We will be fine. Go.”
How he admired her determined spirit, but now was not the time to think of all her good qualities. His family must be saved.
When Gavin rushed to his horse, he heard Stewart say, “So then, mistress, are you betrothed to Laird Armstrong?” He did not hear her response as he left the wynd, but the question that once would have curled his gut now invigorated his spirit as he went to search out his nemesis and right his home.
Chapter Twenty-two
They were too late. By the time Gavin and Stewart’s man made it to the inn, Maxwell was gone. Gavin franticly looked to the open road before turning back to the guard. “He must have heard what happened. Maxwell will make for Warring Tower. He plans to kill my sons and probably my mother as well.”
The guard shook his head. “I cannae go farther. I must stay and protect my laird.”
Indeed. In Scotland, Stewart’s life would outweigh two young lads of insignificant value. Gavin wondered if their thinking would change if they knew Thomas was Queen Elizabeth’s child.
“I understa
nd.” Gavin turned his mount around. “Please thank your laird for his generosity to my friends, and I will compensate him for his troubles later.” He kicked the sides of his horse in earnest.
Gavin tore out of town, doubts stabbing at his soul. Never in his life had he ever felt so alone and so useless. The hollowness in his chest overwhelmed him. He tightened his grip on the horse’s reins, trying to find some resolve, but there was nowhere to draw strength. Bleakness surrounded him.
In his despair, a flicker of hope begged to be heard. What was it? A picture of scripture niggled his mind. “Trust in the Lord…” As much as he tried to remember, the message seeped away. Peering into the bleak night, he galloped on, full of worry, desperation, and fear.
A day and a half later, he arrived home. From a distance, all seemed well. One of Gavin’s servants stood near the gate. That did not mean no trouble lurked within. Cautiously he approached with his hand on Ualan’s blade. Once crossing the threshold, he found his mother and Hew Armstrong standing in the courtyard. But where were his children?
He scanned the yard; there was no sign of Maxwell. If all was well, then why did foreboding engulf his soul? What was it? Something was missing, something wasn’t right. His mother looked weary but also…troubled. Horror crept into his soul. Where were the lads?
“Where are my sons?” Gavin leapt from his mount and pulled the beast toward Hew.
Squaring his shoulders, Hew stepped in front of Gavin’s mother. “Where’s my son and that English lass?” Hew bellowed to give Gavin rival.
“Fraser should be along within a few days with Mistress Audrey. He suffered a mild wound.” Handing over his horse to the stable master, Gavin entered the lower level of the tower.
“A mild wound?” Hew raised his fist to eye level and chased after Gavin. “If somethin’ happens to me lad, I’ll—”
“Hew, stop.” Gavin’s mother stayed at Hew’s side. “I am sure he will be fine.”