by Sakwa, Kim
Gwen was talking quietly with Ian when they both noticed a form slipping through the gates and creeping along the outer wall toward the stables. Ian placed a hand on her knee, squeezing it to indicate that she remain still and silent. From where they sat between the balustrades, they must’ve been concealed within the shadows. And Isabelle’s departure into the keep had mistakenly led the man to believe no one was about. As the man opened the doors to the stables, Ian stood to follow. “Go inside now,” he whispered.
Gwen watched Ian walk to the stables and reach for the latch to go inside. But for some reason she didn’t go inside, she couldn’t. Instead, she crept down the stairs, crouching next to the balustrade as she waited for Ian to come out. Long minutes passed before she saw smoke coming from the stables and the man who entered first leave by himself. Her only thoughts were of helping Ian. She ran.
Once inside the doors, she started crawling on her hands and knees, calling Ian’s name. She saw him farther within, lifting latches to set the horses free. He turned upon hearing her, a flash of incredulity as his eyes went wide and mouth fell agape. He was covered with blood, most likely from fighting with the man who fled. He cursed aloud and ran to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to protect her as he herded her out of the doors. When they came through the cloud of smoke, Greylen and his men were running toward them from the bailey.
As they cleared the stable’s entrance and reached the spot where Greylen and his men now stood, Ian pushed her away and knelt before her husband, meeting Greylen’s murderous stare. But it was not he whom Greylen directed his anger to. It was her.
Gwen stood before her husband never more fearful in her life. Greylen’s look was like none she had ever seen. His body shook so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t explode. She remained silent and motionless as he grabbed her shoulders.
“What were you thinking?” he demanded. “Did you think at all?” He pushed her away, a roar ripping from his throat. When he finally looked down at her again, his eyes were filled with betrayal—hers.
“REMOVE HER—NOW.”
His shout was filled with venom, the words seemed to be spat in disgust. If Duncan and Connell hadn’t grabbed her arms, she would have run herself. They all but threw her through the doors, and she ran to Lady Madelyn’s room.
Greylen’s mother had her arms opened wide when she came through the doors. Gwen ran straight to them, crying until there was nothing left. She knew Lady Madelyn had seen what occurred, but she said nothing. She just held her as she cried, and then they walked silently to the window seat where they watched the men release the animals and douse the fire.
It took hours before they were through, and they were covered in soot and sweat. Greylen and his men had just retrieved their horses and strapped their scabbards back in place when one of their rank leaders, Alex, approached them. Their horses were led away again, and Greylen and his six men-at-arms stood together in a solid line as Alex brought a man before them. Alex pushed the man to the ground making him kneel before his laird. They formed a tight circle around the man, and Greylen nodded to Alex, who was enjoined to stay.
Greylen looked to Ian, who must have confirmed that the man on the ground was in fact the one who started the fire. What happened next was a sight Gwen would remember for her entire life.
One that made her realize Greylen’s absolute authority.
Greylen took a step forward, yet all of his men took several back. He spoke words to the man whom he must have commanded to stand. And with an action so quick it stunned her, Greylen’s hands were behind his shoulders, covering the hilt of his sword, and he swung the blade. His powerful sweep rent clear through the man’s neck.
It was the most gruesome display she’d ever seen.
Greylen turned, looking to the window where she stood. His features were hidden in the shadows, but his message was clear.
This is who I am: a leader, a warrior, an executioner.
He was covered in blood and let forth another roar as he embedded his sword in the dirt. He turned toward the lake. He never looked back.
Gwen paced the floor in her chamber for hours, her stomach churning in knots. She finally heard them enter the keep and ran to the railing. Greylen never looked at her. His men remained in front of the doors and her husband walked down the hallway, his study door slamming with force.
She went back to her chamber, pacing again. She couldn’t take it anymore. Intent to go to him, she opened the doors. Kevin and Hugh waited just outside. They shook their heads, beseeching her to stay.
“I’ll not be scared,” she said, straightening to her full, measly height.
They followed her down the stairs but stayed by the entrance where the other men stood silent. She looked at no one as she continued down the hallway. Her hands shook so badly it took three attempts to press the latch.
She’d lied before. She’d never been more scared in her life.
Greylen was in front of the window, his arms across his chest and his legs braced apart. Water dripped from the back of his head, and his sword, now clean, leaned against the wall. He made no move to turn. He made no move at all.
Greylen knew ’twas his wife who stood in the doorway, for no one else would dare disturb him in his current state. Watching earlier, as she ran to the stables, all but stopped his heart. ’Twas too much. He’d almost lost her only two short weeks ago, and that she’d endanger her life—good God, it created a madness in him he’d never felt.
Now he felt something else, her arms around his waist and her body pressed to his back. Aye, she was brave. His love for her made his heart ache.
He finally broke the silence. “Have you no idea your value?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, Greylen. I’m so sorry.”
Her body shook and the back of his shirt became wet with her tears. He closed his eyes, willing his mind to let go of his anger. He pulled her around, resting his cheek atop her head as she clung to him. He finally pushed her away. “Don’t ever risk your life again, for anyone. Do you understand?” He hadn’t meant to shout, but he was consumed with fear.
Nodding emphatically, she whispered, “Aye. Do you forgive me?”
“’Tis not something I can forgive, Gwen,” he said, shaking his head, giving her a look that brought tears to her eyes again. “Had Ian not ordered you inside?”
“Aye, but—”
“Gwen, when my men give an order, it must be followed. They can’t worry about you and another problem at hand. Orders are given for a reason, wife.”
“I thought he would die, Greylen. He didn’t come out and smoke was coming through the doors.”
“Did you see that he knelt when he emerged?” He was shouting again, furious she still didn’t understand. “Have you any idea why?” he asked in a chilling tone as she shook her head. “He awaited my blow. Do you understand now?”
She gasped, stepping back. “You would kill him, because of me? Because of what I did, only to help?”
“I’ve never been put to the task—till tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Greylen. But I wouldn’t change what I did. I wouldn’t let someone die if I could help them.”
“Then it seems we’re in a predicament. I’ll take you upstairs.”
“It sounds as though you have no intention of staying with me.”
He gave a sarcastic laugh. “I can’t sleep, Gwen. I can’t kill a man and seek the comfort of my bed. ’Tis something I’ve never been able to do.”
“Then I’ll stay with you,” she pleaded, tugging on his shirt.
“No.”
The air released from her lungs, a sound close to a cry emitting from her lips as the impact of his refusal seemed to hit her like a physical blow. He’d never said that word before. In her own language, he turned her away.
“Come, don’t argue,” he bit out, taking her arm.
S
he let him lead her down the hallway, but when they reached the front doors, she wrenched free of his grasp. She walked to his men and stood before Ian. “I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry, Ian. I never meant to put you in such a position.” She looked at each them: Duncan, Kevin, Hugh, Connell, and Gavin. “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused. I know now I was wrong.” She made for the steps then, and Greylen started to follow. “Don’t,” she said without turning. “I know the way.”
Greylen shouldn’t have been surprised that Gwen chose to go alone. He was the one who turned her away. Why, then, did his heart constrict? His men said nothing as he turned back toward his study, but he didn’t miss Gavin’s look, the censure in his eyes.
It took less than an hour for him to come to his senses. He sat behind his desk, his hands pressed to the sides of his head. His only thoughts were of her.
How often she had come to him? How often she had given of herself? How often he had thanked the gods above for the grace of Gwendolyn in his life?
He didn’t face his men as he approached the stairs, and for the first time felt unsure as he entered his chamber. Gwen didn’t look up when he came in. She sat on the floor in front of the fire, staring at the flames and listening to music. The volume was so low her head rested on the hearth next to the speaker.
She looked sad, a look for which he was to blame. He sat on the floor and faced her. Still she didn’t look up. “Gwen, I’ve done things a certain way my entire life. I’ve had to. But I’ve never regretted them…till now.”
“You shouldn’t have to regret your actions, Greylen,” she whispered. She didn’t speak for another full minute, but when she did, her words caught on a sob. “I feel so alone right now, and you’re sitting right beside me. That hurts more than anything.” Still, she didn’t look at him.
“Look at me, Gwen,” he pleaded softly.
“I’m afraid of what I’ll see there, Greylen.”
“Only love, Gwen,” he said in a voice he scarcely recognized. “I swear ’tis only love.” He sensed her struggle and damned himself for being the cause.
She finally looked up. “I hate that I love you so much. I hate it.”
The words tore through his heart, and again he was unsure. He just wanted to hold her, but now it seemed this wall lay between them. And once again, ’twas she who came to him. Gwen crawled into his lap, then laid her head upon his chest. He could have squeezed her to death his relief was so great.
He held her as he sighed, feeling so very lucky to have her in his arms again and realizing now just how fearful he was of her rejection. “Will you stay with me by the fire?” he asked. He still couldn’t sleep in their bed, but he’d been a fool to turn her away earlier.
“Anything, Greylen,” she whispered. “Anything.”
He added more logs to the fire as Gwen took pillows from their bed. Then removed his boots and laid his dagger atop the hearth as Gwen turned off the music. They still hadn’t made love, not since she first told him she was pregnant. And they wouldn’t tonight. But Greylen held her as never before, vowing never to allow his anger to come between them again.
Just as he was falling asleep, he felt her hands upon his face, her whisper melting his heart anew. “I love you so much, Greylen, I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, Gwen. I love you so much too.”
Greylen woke Gwen as she lay in his arms. They were still in front of the fire and he held her so tightly, she couldn’t move.
“I leave this morn, Gwen.”
“You’re going after MacFale, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Aye.”
“I’m sorry about last night, Greylen, I never meant—”
“No more apologies, Gwen. You acted on instinct. ’Tis only one of the many things I admire about you. But watching you run into the fire…”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“I feared for your life again and that you’d risk it… It nearly killed me. Forgive me my anger, Gwen.”
“I do, Greylen. I just want you to be safe. I’m scared for you.”
“You’ve nothing to fear. I’ll send word as soon as I can.”
A few minutes later, Gwen sat on the chest in their bathing chamber shaving Greylen’s beard. The impact of his departure creating a sensation in her chest, like it was being squeezed in a vise. She could sense that Greylen felt the same. Their silence was deafening.
When he finished dressing, he came to her as she stood on the trunk at the end of their bed. His hands encompassed her head and he kissed her as he never had before.
It was a kiss of remembrance. Slow and more than bittersweet.
Hand in hand, they walked down the stairs and into the courtyard. She stood by his side as he secured his belongings to the saddle. Then he led her back to the steps to stand with Isabelle and Lady Madelyn. He stared at her as he brushed his finger down her face. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear words that moved through her very soul.
They were the most beautiful words she’d ever heard, though he’d spoken them before. Every time they made love it was those words that he whispered most. She wanted so much to ask him what they meant, to beg him to take her upstairs and make love to her again. But she couldn’t speak. Her throat was closed, tight with emotion that threatened to strangle her.
He turned to join his men where they waited in the courtyard. Their looks were serious, and she missed so much the laughter and light she’d always seen in their eyes. She clung to Isabelle while Lady Madelyn stood behind them, a hand on each of their shoulders. She watched sadly as her husband rode toward the gates.
Greylen looked back once more before he rode through the gates. His anger was gone, replaced with feelings that were hard to fathom. He wasn’t even sure if Gwen realized what she had done that morn. He would never forget.
After she shaved him, she’d walked to his wardrobe, removing the things that she knew he would wear. She’d held out each item, smoothing the material over his body with her hands after he’d put them on. Then she packed his satchel, hugging it as she sat on the trunk. He knew she held back tears, and in truth, her actions tugged at him as well. Since he was a young boy, no one had dressed him or packed for him. No one had ever touched his heart the way that she did.
He left Connell and Ian behind with strict orders to stay by Gwen’s side. The order wasn’t necessary, but he voiced it all the same.
They reached the MacFale holding before noon. The gates were open and they rode straight to the keep. Malcolm’s father waited on the steps.
“Where’s your son?” Greylen commanded, meeting the old man’s stare.
“I’ve not seen Malcolm for weeks.”
“You expect me to believe you, old man?” His shout was filled with reprimand. “He had my wife poisoned and his man set fire to our stables.” Greylen nodded to Kevin, who released the remains of the man he’d killed the night before.
MacFale looked to the ground, nodding before addressing Greylen again. “Aye, ’tis Malcolm’s man. But I swear, MacGreggor, I’ve not seen my son. Nor do I approve of his actions.”
“You’ve defended his actions in the past,” Greylen accused. “I don’t want war, old man, but I’ll have your land before you pass power to him.”
“I have no choice,” the old man argued. “He’s the only son willing to take what’s rightfully his.”
“I’ll not speak in riddles, MacFale. When I find him, he’ll pay for his offenses with his life.”
“Then it seems you’ll have this land, MacGreggor. I’m not long for this world, and I’ve had no control of Malcolm for years.”
“The fault is your own,” Greylen charged. “He’s of your blood. His evil could only come from you.”
“I’ve bred good as well, MacGreggor, though my actions caused his leave. I only wish to right my wrongs.”
“Ceas
e your twisted words,” Greylen bellowed. “Speak of what you wish.”
“’Tis no longer my place. I’ve said my piece. Leave the man.”
“Stand aside, we’ll search the keep.”
“Have your look. I’ve nothing to hide. Malcolm may lie upon the land, but the keep’s otherwise empty.”
“’Tis a trap,” Duncan spat.
“I’ve three servants, all so aged ’tis a wonder I have food on my table and clean rushes on the floors. You see any men?” the old man asked, waving his hands. “There are none. Malcolm has only a handful, and they ride with him.”
Greylen and his men entered the holding. They stood within the hall where Gavin shook visibly as he stared at the steps that led to the bedchambers. Assuming fury caused his actions, Greylen ordered him to stay with the old man. He took Duncan above stairs while Hugh and Kevin searched the main floor.
“I should have killed him years ago,” Gavin hissed.
“Mayhap.” Guy MacFale shrugged as he stood next to Gavin for the first time in years. “But your honor kept you from it.”
“Nay, your weakness did, old man.”
“If I could change the past, Gavin—”
“Would you?”
“You know I’ve tried to make amends, Gavin. My continued silence should be worth something.”
Greylen and his men joined in the entrance, and then together they went below stairs. Let them search all the darkened passages. Malcolm was not there. When they came up, MacGreggor’s words confirmed it. “’Tis empty, just as you said. You’re lucky you spoke the truth, old man.”
“I wish only for peace, MacGreggor, I’ve not caused trouble in years, and I’ve tried to keep a leash on Malcolm. He’s the one who wishes you harm. They’re a nasty, childish bunch.”
“He’ll be mine, old man. Pray you now for his sorry soul.”
The elder MacFale watched sadly as MacGreggor and his men left the keep in unison. He’d made so many wrong choices throughout his life. But now, he was more determined than ever to see the wrongs of the past righted before he died.