Like a Laird to a Flame

Home > Other > Like a Laird to a Flame > Page 17
Like a Laird to a Flame Page 17

by Pride, Mia


  James pointed his sword at the man’s throat and, for once, Archibald had the mind to stay silent. Dropping his sword, the Douglas put his hands up, his graying hairline rising with his brows. “Ye have no proof of any of that. Yer word against mine. I ken nothing about any of that mad Irvine’s schemes, nor any knowledge of his association with the Douglas Clan. Ye have made a grave mistake accusing me of such a plot, lad. I dinnae care if ye are a laird, a baron, or the bloody king! I have all the power of Scotland and England backing me up. I am untouchable. Slit my throat and ye shall be hanged for treason, for I am royalty!” he shouted, his jowls shaking and his face turning almost purple. He was caught in a conspiracy and James simply held the sword steady, not frightened by this old blithering goat.

  “So ye will tell me that Stephan Irvine isnae yer nephew? That ye didnae pin yer assassination of the king’s eldest son on yer own brother’s head, causing him to be cast aside? Ye didnae tell Stephan that ye would restore his place among the Black Douglases if he helped to cause a ripple in the fragile peace these clans have recently established, wishing to weaken them all and eventually take them down?” James guessed on most of his accusations, but it all made sense, and based on the wide-eyed look of Archibald who attempted to hide his shaking hands at his side, he knew he had figured out the truth.

  “How dare ye accuse me of such foul deeds! I have nothing to do with Stephan or the death of the old king’s son… who was my wife’s brother! And I certainly had nothing to do with turning clans against the Irvines! They accomplished that on their own.”

  “That isnae the truth.”

  A middle-aged man with long, red hair pulled back into a queue and wearing a Douglas plaid draped over his shoulder stepped forward, head held high, eyes glaring at his laird. “My name is Roger Galloway, Laird Hamilton. I am the messenger for Sir Archibald. All these years, I have had to deliver one missive after another that led to skirmishes and bloodshed that now rest upon my soul, coating my hands. I ken I didnae write them, nor ken of their contents, but I always kenned they were filled with bile and lies, turning clans against one another to weaken their alliances and create wars over power. I can no longer stand the stain upon my soul. I ken the truth of it. Sir Archibald told Stephan Irvine to write the missive to ye. Vowed to offer him sanctuary on his lands. Stephan’s father was the laird’s younger brother who was banished for something he didnae do. We all ken it.”

  The shouting in the hall grew louder by the moment as outrage heightened. The swords held by the Keiths and Hamiltons pulled away from the Irvines, now focused on the Douglases. James kept his own weapon steadily held at the throat of the man who conspired against the Irvines whose only fault was welcoming Archibald into their home.

  “We demand revenge for the death of Brian!” one Keith warrior shouted, raising his sword in the air. His words were met with a round of approval from his kin who filled the hall.

  “An eye for an eye!” another man shouted, and the Keiths began to crowd around Archibald and his men, determined to seek justice for their loss.

  “Hold yer weapons, men. ’Tis still the Yule. We have seen enough blood and hatred. Surround the Douglas Clan. Irvine men, head down to the cellar with me to release yer laird and lady. Walter!” James called to his finest warrior, who nodded and pushed through the crush of men to arrive by his side and hear his command. “Watch this bastard for me. Dinnae take yer eyes nor yer sword away from him. Where is Miss Douglas?”

  “She is in the tower with the other women, my laird.”

  “Good. Stephan Irvine is on the loose, likely headed toward Douglas lands. We cannae reach him before he arrives, but we can handle the bastard before us now. I will allow Robert to decide his fate.” Sending a warning scowl in Archibald’s direction, James walked away, knowing Walter would not let him down.

  Walking up to Roger, James placed an arm on his shoulder and nodded. “Ye were verra brave to speak up. Ye have saved lives on this day. I ken ye will need protection, and I welcome ye to live on Hamilton lands. We can use all the trustworthy men we can get.”

  “Thank ye, my laird,” the man said and bowed. “I couldnae stand it any longer. I accept yer offer and ken ye will be a fairer leader than any Black Douglas.”

  Looking at the rest of the men, James placed a hand over his quickly beating heart, tightly gripping his sword with his other. “I have failed. I fell into the trap and put everyone at risk. I’m not worthy of yer forgiveness, nor yer allegiance, but I ask that ye do this one thing for me. Help me release the prisoners below. I shall face whatever fate Laird Drum sees fit for disrupting his home during the Yule and endangering his kin.”

  The Irvines nodded and stepped away from the wall, shooting daggers at the other men who had held them captive before grabbing their swords, stacked in the nearby corner. James followed as the men led him across the hall and around the screens separating the room from the kitchens. The emptiness of the room was eerie enough, but the pot left unstirred as the stew within bubbled and burned spoke of a castle in a frenzy, and James was sorry to have been involved in the mayhem he had created.

  “The cellar is down this way, Sir William,” one of the Irvine knights said, opening a door that led down to the basement area of the tower.

  “Is there an outer entrance?”

  “Aye. There is a flight of stairs just outside the tower that leads to the basement from the inner bailey. There are men from Douglas and Keith guarding that entrance, as well.”

  Looking behind him, he saw a score of men awaiting their turn to release their laird and lady, ready to fight any man in the way. James divided the men behind him into two groups, then addressed the first half. “Gather my men and go around to the outside entrance. We will enter through here and call off the guards. If they dinnae comply, we will need to have our swords ready.” Nodding, the men took off through another door that led outside.

  James began to step down when one warrior grabbed a lit candle from the kitchens. “We will be needing some light. ’Tis naught but a long, dark corridor before we reach the cellars.” The candle was nearly burned down to the base of its brass holder, another indication that the kitchens had been quickly abandoned. Nodding, James took the candle and stepped into the dark first, the men following in a single file line.

  A long, slim corridor stood before him, stretching for several feet before curving to the left. James followed the path, keeping one hand on the hilt of his sword as he rounded the dark corner. The air was nearly freezing, the sting of the chill nipping at his ears, cheeks, and nose with every step.

  Holding the small bit of candle up and praying it did not suddenly die out, he saw a corridor that seemed to go on as far as his eyes could see, several doors lining both sides. “Which door is the cellar?” he whispered to the men behind him.

  “’Tis the verra furthest down, Sir William. The verra last door on the left. There are two levels to the cellar. Once ye enter, ye will see yet another set of stairs. They are being held in the bottom level. They have no light or warmth,” the man replied with concern in his tone.

  Cursing under his breath, James continued down the hall, worried for Elizabeth and the bairn she carried. Finally reaching the end of what felt like a tunnel leading to a cave, William slowly opened the last door and entered a small, square room where a few animal carcasses hung from metal hooks attached to the ceiling. This room was just as cold at the corridor leading to it, which he was glad of at the moment. It properly stored the meat from going foul, a smell he was not eager to endure.

  Holding the candle up, he saw the stairway across the room in the corner, and moved around the carcass of a boar, determined to get down those stairs and into the cellar.

  As he made the final turn of the rounded staircase, James was met by two warriors guarding the way and swiftly drew his sword, hearing the men behind him do the same, the echo of unsheathed steal bouncing off the walls. The men before him wore the Douglas plaid, and James hoped they would not make th
is harder than necessary.

  “The building is surrounded and yer laird is held captive in the hall. Ye can stand aside or be cut down. ’Tis yer choice.” The two men looked behind James, keeping calm looks on their faces before looking at one another, deciding their next move.

  Shrugging, one man moved to the side. “I care not to die without lying with my wife once more, nor do I like keeping a lady locked in the cold darkness below.”

  The other man moved aside as well, smart enough to know he was outnumbered and had no better options. “Here.” Putting his hand out, the man brandished a long, metal key. “This belongs to the lady.” The Irvine warrior behind him took the key and the Douglas men stepped away. When the lock clicked and the door swung open with a deafening groan, William stepped forward, holding his sword in front of him.

  “Who enters?” Robert’s angry voice echoed through the room, but even with the candle, James still could not see him. Taking a few more steps inside, James turned in a slow circle, looking for any sign of the laird and lady.

  “’Tis James Hamilton.”

  “Och, have ye come to finish the job then? Ye ken, I had expected better of ye Hamiltons than to side with the bloody Black Douglases. Ye can kill me like a coward while I am tied up and unarmed. But I vow if ye touch my wife, I will come back from the dead and cut ye limb from cursed limb!”

  “Rob, nay! Dinnae make things worse.” Elizabeth hissed in the dark.

  “Ye must kill me if ye plan on killing my brother, for I dinnae wish to be saddled with the running of this place. Then I would need to take a wife, and I fear that is akin to death for me.” That must be the voice of Reginald Irvine. Though James had not been formally introduced to him, his reputation as a witty lover of women and lighthearted banter preceded him.

  Stepping in a few feet further, James finally saw them in the corner, all bound by their arms and legs, sitting in the furthest corner. Even the slightest bit of light made them all squint and turn away, and he saw Elizabeth shivering against Robert. The bastards had not even given the lady the courtesy of a plaid or a shawl.

  “I am here to get ye out. The Keiths and Hamiltons have been called off and are now surrounding the Douglases.” James took a moment to fill them in on what he had discovered about Brian’s murder, and Stephan Irvines role in the events before fleeing to Douglas lands.

  “That son of a bitch. My father allowed him to live on our lands, and this is how he repays us? We treated him like kin,” Robert spat, clenching his teeth. Obvious disappointment and betrayal laced his words.

  “I dinnae believe Stephan cares for anyone or anything, other than himself. He will do all he can to have Mary. He attacked her at the kirk, but we arrived in time to save her before he fled.”

  “Where is Mary? Is she all right?” Elizabeth cried, and James was not certain if the quiver in her voice was from the cold or fear.

  “She is at the kirk with William. She went into labor and is being cared for by the prioress who is also a midwife. She was verra well when I had to leave. Will stayed to make certain she was safe and sent me to command his men.” Coming closer, James put his sword down and pulled a dagger out of his boot. “I am going to cut yer binds,” he assured them all.

  “Nay! Mary is alone, giving birth without me? I vowed I would be with her when her time came!”

  “I am sorry, my lady. I cannae stress my regret for my previous behavior enough. Much has happened since the night before.” With a grunt of exertion, James cut through the remainder of ropes around her feet and moved over to Robert, continuing his conversation with Elizabeth. “I cannae make up for what I have done to her. But I ken William will allow her to visit Drum and attend to ye when ye give birth. Perhaps that will please ye both.”

  “What the devil?” As soon as Robert’s ropes were cut, he hopped to his feet with a groan and reached out to Elizabeth, embracing her and rubbing his hands over her body to warm her chilled flesh. “Lizzie… what is he saying, love?”

  James was occupied cutting the ropes off Reginald next, but he heard the confusion in Robert’s tone and grimaced. Robert had not known yet either. James had now told both her brother and husband before she had, and he felt like a bloody arse.

  “Well… I didnae wish ye to ken yet. ’Tis early days still, Rob. And I certainly didnae wish for ye to find out while we were down here.” She looked at James and narrowed her eyes before looking back at Robert. “Anything can happen.”

  “I am going to be a father?” he croaked. A smile widened on his face, the dim light of the candle casting a shaky shadow over his elated features. “I am going to be a father!” he roared into the darkness, the sound reverberating off the walls.

  “Rob, haud yer wheesht!” Elizabeth slapped her hand over his mouth and shook her head. “The bats hibernate in this cellar in the winter, dinnae ye ken? ’Tis not an easy task to awake them, but if ye do, we shall be swarmed!”

  Reginald stretched his neck when he stood, wiping debris from the back of his breeches and rubbing his sore backside. “I am to be an uncle?” he asked. “Again? Mary is having Alexander’s child as we speak, and ye are with child, as well? The Irvine Clan will have some braw new warriors, I ken.” Reginald grinned and looked at James. “Ye are fortunate ye come bearing good tiding, or else I would consider running ye through for the way ye treated our Mary.”

  James stared at Reginald, torn between telling the man to mind his own business, explaining his behavior, or apologizing altogether. He had acted brashly, aye, but she was his Mary, also. He was her guardian and he had done what he thought best to keep her and the bairn safe. His apology was owed specifically to Mary and he would continue to make amends on her behalf, but none of that concerned Sir Reginald Irvine who seemed to share opinions about things whether invited to or not.

  “Those bastards tied up my wife while she carries a bairn!” Robert hissed and pulled her near, cradling Elizabeth in his embrace, swallowing her up with his size.

  “Rob, they didnae ken I was with child,” she mumbled against his chest.

  “That isnae the point! Ye are Lady of Drum and deserve respect. They can tie me and Reg up and leave us to the mice, but not my fair lady wife!”

  Reginald grimaced at his brother. “Och. I am glad to ken how much ye regard me,” he said dryly. It seemed Reginald took nothing seriously, which made him both endearing and frustrating.

  “Archibald is up in the hall being watched by my men. I called off the Hamiltons and Keiths, but the Douglases are still a threat. It’s up to ye how ye wish to handle the Back Douglas.” Just as he spoke the words, shouts rang out from the side of the cellar, and Robert’s head turned.

  “That is the entrance from the outside. Are there men there?”

  “Aye, Douglas’ men were guarding that side of the cellar. Yer men must have just found them. Robert, take Elizabeth through the corridor and deal with the men in the hall. Yer men can clear the way and we will meet ye there. Reginald, how are ye with a dagger?” James asked, flashing his blade, knowing the men were both unarmed.

  “None better.” Reginald took the dagger and flipped it in his hand, catching it by the handle.

  “That remains to be seen.” Unsheathing his sword, James shrugged his head toward the back entrance and Reginald followed.

  “Ye are brave to command me in my own home, Sir James. But, aye, Elizabeth must stay safe, and I willnae leave her alone in this cellar. I am sorry ye must fight without me, but I ken ye both can handle it.” The men who came with James through the corridor surrounded their laird and lady, determined to see them to safety as they all went through the inside door, disappearing into the darkness.

  “Are ye ready?” Reginald asked, but he did not await an answer before opening the door, the brightness of the afternoon sun streaming in and causing James to suffer a moment of temporary blindness before his eyes adjusted. Running through with Reginald, James held his sword high and ready to strike.

  Several Douglas guards stru
ggled with the Irvines, yet some had already been felled. Seeing one man fighting off two Douglas warriors, James growled and jumped into the fight, clashing his sword against the enemy just as it swung toward the Irvine warrior’s chest.

  With a grunt, the Douglas man took a step back, nearly losing his balance in the powdery snow before making eye contact with James and scowling, thrusting his sword toward James’ gut. Swerving to the right, he successfully dodged the blow before swiftly spinning on his heels and slashing the man’s arm, causing him to shout in pain and drop into the snow along with his weapon. Blood painted the snow as it oozed from the man’s right forearm. It was not a killing blow, nor was it meant to be. These men were acting on the command of their laird, just as his own men were. There were moments when a life must be taken, but this was not one of them.

  The Irvine warrior nodded to James in thanks, then turned to fight another man. Turning around, James saw Reginald stab a man in the thigh just as he was charging at James’ back. Had Reginald not been there, James may never have had his chance to truly make amends to his sister. The serious glower on Reginald’s face was a completely different side of the man James had briefly met before, and a new respect for him formed. He was a man who used his humor and charm to lighten his outlook on life, but when it came to battle and loyalty, Reginald Irvine was a man who could be trusted to have your back… and save your arse.

  Slapping Reginald on the back, James stopped and took a breath when he saw that no more Douglases were coming at them. Keith and Irvine men stood in a circle around the wounded Douglas warriors and awaited a command from James.

  “Lead us to the hall, men. Robert is on his way there now to deal with The Douglas.” Nodding, the men huffed for breath but ran as fast as they could through the snow with Reginald and James following.

 

‹ Prev