His hand shaking, Lochlan opened the box and felt tears sting his eyes. It was a small silver crucifix identical to the one he carried. The crosses had been gifts from their mother as each one reached his maturity. And just like his, it bore Kieran’s name engraved on the back of it.
“Kieran said you would recognize it and know that it was his.”
“I do.” Swallowing, he met Stryder’s gaze. “Is my brother…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words. The fear of the answer choked him and he couldn’t bear the thought of knowing his brother had died in the Holy Land and none of them had known it.
“Alive?” Stryder finished, “I don’t know. The MacAllister brothers stayed behind and fought the Saracens while we escaped…one died that night and the other…” He flinched from the memory.
“What of him?”
“He lives in England now. Silent and hidden.”
“Is it Kieran?” Lochlan’s voice cracked.
“I honestly don’t know. The two men looked so much alike they could have been twins. There were many times during our imprisonment that we weren’t sure which one was Duncan and which one was Kieran.”
“But you have to know if it’s him. Surely.”
“The Scot is severely disfigured,” Rowena breathed. “He would have died had his brother not saved him and Stryder not carried him to Europe. The fighting claimed one life and the other…we can’t tell who he is and he won’t say.”
Stryder nodded. “He went into seclusion and has never emerged.”
Lochlan stood there completely stunned by the unexpected turn. He wanted to laugh and curse.
Catarina wrapped her arms around his. “We can go and see if it’s Kieran.”
“Aye.” He looked back at Stryder. “Where is he?”
“He’s in a remote keep in Sussex. If you can wait a few days, I can take you there. It’s the only way he’ll allow you to approach. The Scot trusts no one. The last man who tried to broach his lands was shot four times.”
Cat gaped. “Did he die?”
“Nay, but I assure you no one else has tried to visit since without a member of the Brotherhood at his side.”
Strangely enough, that sounded just like something the hotheaded Kieran would do. Lochlan held his hand out to Stryder. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
He shook his arm and patted him on the shoulder. “Have no fear. I have a brother myself and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”
No wonder he was so willing to help. “Is he here?”
“Nay. Ironically, he’s with the Scot for the time being, which is another reason I don’t mind taking you. It’s been almost a year since I last saw Kit.” He looked at Rowena. “That is if my wife is agreeable?”
“Aye. For this I will go and will even be willing to speak to you on the journey since it’s for a good cause, unlike the unnatural tendency you have to want to knock grown men down with a stick.”
Stryder rolled his eyes.
Rowena’s gaze softened. “Now be at banquet tonight, husband. Alexander and William miss their father and I grow weary of their complaints.” She left before Stryder could respond.
“William and Alexander?” Cat asked.
“Our sons. Since their mother banned me from her chambers in the keep, I haven’t been able to see them. Rowena fears they’ll become corrupted by my warring ways.”
Lochlan was baffled by his words. “Did she not understand you were a knight when she married you?”
“Aye, but her greatest fear is to see me fall in battle as her father did and so she ever nettles me over this. Once the tourney ends and I still live, she will be fine.” A small smile toyed at the edges of lips. “I have learned that the rose is worth putting up with a few thorns from time to time. I know it is only her fear that makes her churlish and if she didn’t love me so, she wouldn’t care what befalls me. So I welcome her rancor at tourney, but please for the love of God, never tell her that. I fear should it ever grow worse.”
Lochlan laughed. “Your secret is safe.”
“Good, now if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for my next match.”
Lochlan followed Cat outside and waited until they were alone again. “So tell me of this secretive Brotherhood of the Sword.”
Cat took a breath as she thought about her friends Pagan and Lysander and the scars, both physical and mental, they’d borne. “They were all prisoners in Outremer. They were held in the same Saracen camp. Stryder was one of the group’s leaders and he and the others found a way to escape. But as you heard, the escape didn’t go completely smoothly and many never made it home. Those who did set up a network of people to help return others to their families and to help the newly freed to acclimate to their homes again. They are called the Brotherhood of the Sword and they all bear the mark of a crescent moon and scimitar brand on their hands.”
Lochlan ground his teeth as he tried to imagine the horrors Kieran must have seen in such a place. He’d heard enough tales of Saracen jails to know that all of them would be scarred severely from it. If the Scot was his brother, he wondered if Kieran were still sane.
“This Pagan you traveled with—”
“He was a good man, but he refused to speak of the prison. Lysander would get drunk and relay events to us. It was truly horrifying.” She reached out to touch him. “I’m so sorry that your brother ended up there.”
“As am I.” If he could, he would gladly have changed places with Kieran.
Catarina took his hand in hers. “What happened that he left?”
“A fight. There was a woman, Isobail, with whom he fell in love. She was supposed to marry someone else and so he ran away with her in the middle of the night, supposedly to save her from her future husband—it was what caused our clans to go to war with one another. Kieran brought her to our home and we welcomed her in. But even from the beginning I knew she was trouble. She even came on to me one night after Kieran had retired.”
“Did you tell him?”
“I tried and he laughed at me for it. It wasn’t until she turned her attention to our brother Ewan that Kieran realized I was right. As she’d done with Kieran, she talked Ewan into leaving with her in the middle of the night. She had him take her to England, where another lover was waiting. She abandoned Ewan and almost ruined his life. He came home, but by then it was too late. Kieran had vanished. He left his sword and plaid on the shore of a loch not far from our home, so we all assumed he’d drowned himself in grief.”
“But he hadn’t.”
Lochlan winced. “If only I’d known. I should have sought him. But my mother and Ewan were so destroyed that I never even considered the possibility that Kieran would have feigned his own death. What kind of arse would do such a thing?”
“Someone who was hurting so much that he couldn’t see past his own pain to someone else’s.”
Anger roiled through him. “It was selfish.”
“Aye. Such things always are. He must have been young.”
“He was.” Still, it was no excuse to have destroyed their mother with grief.
“Then you should forgive him.”
“Could you?”
“I’m not saying I wouldn’t beat him for it, but in the end to have him back…”
Lochlan nodded. She did understand. There was a relief inside him at the thought of seeing his brother again…He would give anything to know his brother was alive.
And he hated the thought of what Catarina’s family must be going through not knowing what had befallen her. “We need to get you back to your uncle.”
“We will. I have faith that all things happen for a reason and that he will return to my life when God wills it.”
Her faith amazed him. She possessed an inner peace that was unfathomable to him. Even though her father was trying to control her life, even when everything around her was in complete chaos, she was calm.
Patting his hand, she smiled up at him. “Do you think the Scot could be Kie
ran?”
“I’m not sure. Either way it appears I’ll have a brother again.” The only question seemed to be if it would be the brother he’d grown up with or another he’d never known about. Even if it were Kieran, he’d have to learn him all over again. So much had happened since the day of his disappearance…
Lochlan wasn’t sure if this was a curse or a blessing. But then again, he had a brother out there. How could that be anything other than a blessing?
No, this was wonderful and he refused to see it as anything else.
It took them a bit of time to find Bracken and his siblings. They’d rented two small tents that were at the back of the field. One for the women and one for the men.
“Did you find Stryder?” Bracken asked.
“Aye. We’ll…” He paused as he realized that he couldn’t take Bracken to England. He’d completely forgotten about the man’s banishment. “I’ll have to hire a boat to take you into Scotland. Catarina and I shall have to journey back through England to find my brother.”
“You’re right about that,” Bracken concurred. “My trail through England would be a bloody one indeed. ’Tis that whole nasty banishment problem that gets in the way. And no offense, I’d rather keep my head attached to my body a bit longer.”
“I certainly can’t blame you for that.”
“Bracken?” Julia asked, interrupting them. “Would it be possible now that Lord Lochlan and Cat are back for Bryce and me to tour the activities?”
Bracken hesitated before he gave a hard stare at Bryce. “You are responsible for your sister. No getting distracted and wandering off from her. Do you hear me?”
“I do.”
“Then off with you, but I want you both back here before dark. There’s all kinds of people here.”
“Some of whom could be thieves,” Cat teased.
“Aye, and no picking purses or pockets. We’re honest now and I expect you both to behave like the nobles you are.”
Julia lifted her chin indignantly. “I’m offended to the marrow of my bones that you would think I would stoop so low.” She swept her gaze first to Bryce, then to Bracken. “You two were the thieves. Even dressed as a boy, I was always a lady.” And with that, she left in a snit.
Bracken let out an angry growl. “Bryce, keep an eye on her and if any man so much as glances her way, you have my permission to gut him. And if anything untoward happens to Julia, then I will gut you.”
Bryce all but ran out of the tent.
Bracken turned toward Lochlan. “Be glad you have brothers. Nothing worse than having a sister who is entirely too attractive for your mental health.”
Cat laughed. “Now Bracken, Julia has a fine head on her shoulders. She’s not the type to fall for a man’s beauty or let him sway her. I assure you, she’d never do anything to shame you or herself.”
“I know. It’s the men I don’t trust. We’re all lying, deceitful dogs when it comes to chasing after a pretty girl.”
Lochlan stiffened. “I’m offended by that. I’ve never lied to a woman.”
“That’s why God must have given you brothers. I assure you, when it comes to Julia, I’m paying well for my past sins.”
Lochlan laughed. “Then come. Let us find armor and a good sword for you while we’re here…just in case you should need one.”
Cat shook her head. “All the better to gut, eh?”
Bracken pulled his sword from his belt and ran his thumb down the blade. “You know, the duller and cruder the blade, the more the gutting would hurt…”
“Then you can save that sword for Julia’s suitors.”
“Aye, I think I will.” He sheathed it at his side.
Without thinking, Cat followed the men out of the tent, into the crowd. They’d only taken a few steps when a bad feeling went through her.
It wasn’t until a man wearing a silver mask paused beside her that she understood why.
“Good day, Cousin Catarina.”
Chapter 8
Cat couldn’t breathe as she realized the man in the mask was Damien St. Cyr. His mother was the sister of Cat’s father and it’d been years since she last saw him. In those days, he’d been a beautiful but arrogant boy, always boasting about his lineage and the lands he’d one day inherit. Cat had never cared for him.
But the man in front of her seemed different from the boy she’d known and it wasn’t just the fact that he had an ornate silver mask covering the upper part of his face. There was air of powerful restraint and it wasn’t just from the fact that he was tall and well built.
He was awe-inspiring and mysterious.
“Cousin Damien,” she said, hating the note of panic she heard in her voice. The boy she’d known wouldn’t have hesitated to sic her father or his men on her. He’d even relish it and whatever pain they’d put her through. “I didn’t expect to find you here.” But she should have. It would only have made sense that some of her large French family would be at a fair this size.
Shame on her for not considering that more carefully.
“I should say the same of you.” He leaned down so that only she could hear his next words. “Especially since all of France is looking for you.”
Her stomach shrank.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, touching her cheek lightly with his gloved hand. “Your secret is safe with me.” He straightened and snapped his fingers. “Henri, donate your cloak to my dearest cousin. I fear she might be a bit chilled.”
Without hesitation, the man behind him whipped his cloak off and handed it to Damien, who then wrapped it around her. He raised the cowl to hide her face and offered her a genuine smile as he tucked her hair in.
“There are three besides me who will know you. Stay out of the great hall and away from the tourney field and you should be fine.”
She still couldn’t believe he was doing this for her. It had never been in his nature to help anyone. “Why are you helping me?”
There was a flash of pain in his eyes that he quickly shielded. “Let’s just say, I know what it’s like to be held against my will. It’s something I would wish on no one.” And with that, he left her.
Cat gaped as he led his entourage away. Luckily, none of them even looked back at her. She crossed herself in relief.
“Catarina? Is anything amiss?”
She started at Lochlan’s voice as he returned to her side with a worried frown. “Nay. I just met my cousin.”
Panic flashed across his brow.
“He let me go.” She was still incredulous. “I can’t believe he’d be so kind.”
Lochlan glanced around as if looking for him. “Neither can I. Are you sure he won’t call out the guards once he finds them?”
If he’d asked her that question before this meeting, she would have said aye. It would have been just the sort of thing the boy Damien would have done. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
“Nay, I think we’re safe.”
And she did, too.
Bracken walked back toward them. “Is something wrong? I looked behind me and both of you had disappeared.”
Lochlan indicated her with a jerk of his chin. “Catarina met her cousin here a few moments ago.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Which one?”
Cat couldn’t wait to see what his next expression would be since he thought even less of the man than she did. “Damien St. Cyr.”
Bracken reached for his hilt as he scanned the crowd with a feral grimace. “Is the bastard calling out guards?”
“Nay,” she said breathlessly. “He gave me this cloak to hide with and told me to be careful lest they find me.”
This time, Bracken’s jaw dropped. “Damien…St. Cyr told you that? Damien-I-have-no-soul-St. Cyr? Satan’s misbegotten demonspawn? The same demented boy who cut the strap on my saddle the first time I jousted and laughed when I broke my leg and collarbone?”
Actually, she’d forgotten about that one misdeed—there had been so many such events in their childhoods. “Aye. The same
.”
Bracken snorted. “What the hell happened to him that he’d find decency now?”
She shrugged, every bit as baffled by it as he was. “Maybe he just grew up?”
Still, there was doubt in Bracken’s eyes. “More like he took a stiff blow to his head. Trust me, ’twould take much more than that for the devil to change his ways. He used to live to hurt others.”
Now Lochlan was looking sheepish.
Cat patted Bracken’s arm. “You’re right, but I think he’s different now.”
“Then get the name of whatever priest exorcised him. We need to send the man a gift of appreciation.”
“Bracken,” she chided. “Have more charity. And let us be glad that he’s on our side in this.” The one thing no one ever wanted was to have Damien against them. As Bracken had said, the man could be pure evil.
Bracken scoffed as he renewed his quest through the crowd. “I’m still not sure he’s not off to tell others where you are. They could be planning to take you even as we speak. Most likely at a time when you least expect it.”
She shook her head. “Well that’s something I don’t wish to think of.”
While they argued, Lochlan paused as they reached an armorer’s stand. He held up a long sword to test it.
Looking pleased with the weapon, he passed it over to Bracken. “What say you to this?”
Bracken placed his forefinger below the cross hilt to check the balance. “Good proportions and balance. Fine lines.”
“You’ll not find a better swordmaker in all of Christendom,” a youth said as he came out of the tent that was set off to the side of the table. “My father takes great pride in his work.”
“And it shows,” Cat said, while Bracken swung the sword around his body. “’Tis a most beautiful weapon.”
The boy beamed.
Cat stood back while Lochlan outfitted Bracken with everything he would need to fight. She’d never seen Bracken so pleased. There was a light in his eyes now that had been missing before and he stood taller. It was his dignity she realized. With the loss of his father and lands, the man had suffered a harsh blow to his ego. But now he appeared the same nobleman she’d grown to know all those years ago.
The Warrior Page 10