Unbreakable Heart (Legend of the King's Guard Book 2)

by Griffin, Kara

  “What?” He turned back to her and nodded. “Aye, pour me a goblet of wine. I’m thirsty.”

  She hurried to the table and poured a good amount of wine in an empty goblet. Before she turned back to him, she added the concoction Gilroy had given her. Hopefully the datura would aid her if it should become too difficult for her to best him.

  Makenna approached and handed him the goblet. He took it and held it, eying her suspiciously.

  “Remove your hood.” He raised the goblet to his mouth, but didn’t drink.

  She did as he bid and slid the hood of her cloak from her head, revealing the long tresses of her fiery hair.

  He lowered the goblet without taking a drink. “You.”

  “Did ye deem never to see me again? I vowed to make you pay for your crimes against my family and now I shall.” Makenna disheartened that he hadn’t drunk the wine. She wasn’t sure if she could handle him if he wasn’t somewhat incapacitated. Lest she suggest they drink, he would suspect her afoul. It mattered not. So be it if this was her end. She reached for the sword she’d hid inside her long cloak, but didn’t pull it out yet.

  Hawksberry laughed heartily. “I hoped I would see you again and now here you are … in my domain. Where did ye flee to, little wren? I would’ve given you many a pleasurable night.”

  “You are the vilest man alive. I will see you dead before I allow you to touch me.”

  He set the goblet on the table and took two steps toward her. “Ah, a threat from your sweet lips is music to my ears for it will lend excitement to our dalliance. I have a threat of my own. You will be beneath me this night, little wren. I’ll get pleasure from you whether you agree or not.”

  Makenna pulled her sword free of her cloak. “You’ll get no pleasure from me, sir. All I wish to give you is the blade of this sword. Aye, for it will pierce your black heart. You will be lying on the floor breathless, lifeless, and unable to harm another.” She took a step toward him, raised the sword, and looked into the eyes of the man she wished to kill.

  Chapter Eighteen

  In all his days, Liam never experienced such emotions. Nor was he apt to admit his feeling utter despair and fear. But he was afraid of what would happen to Makenna if he didn’t reach her in time. Either way Hawksberry would meet his end. Liam gripped his sword and relished the touch of the leather grip. He envisioned holding it at Hawksberry’s chest and thrusting it.

  Then he prayed. He kept repeating his request to the Almighty, “God let her be alive,” again and again in his mind throughout the ride.

  Graeme didn’t speak a word as he rode beside him. At least his comrade had empathy for him. Graeme had gone through a similar situation with his own wife when she’d gone missing a year ago. Fortunately Kerrigan survived. He wasn’t sure his wife would. She faced a greater threat than King Robert.

  It took less than a minute to figure out where Makenna went when he’d noticed her missing. A young monk had seen her fleeing the hall near Friar Hemm’s office. His wife heard their discussion of the English king’s death. He was sure of it. Liam suspected she panicked and knew Hawksberry’s time in Scotland was limited. She went to Bothwell.

  He realized she’d taken his horse, and he cursed full out at the atrocity. Graciously, Friar Hemm lent him the finest steed in their stable. The draught pony wasn’t as fit as his warhorse, but it would have to do. At least the horse wouldn’t need much rest for it was bred for stamina.

  On the approach to Bothwell, Liam heard the whinnying of horses ahead on the trail. He and Graeme dismounted and pulled their steeds into the high brush. They led the horses farther into the woods and tethered them away from danger.

  Liam pulled his sword free and kept it at the ready. With light steps, he approached the mass of men making camp in the woods near Bothwell’s walls. It was too dark to see them clearly or to discern where they were from. Graeme left him and reverted around the camp to get a look from the other side.

  He knelt next to a yew bush and recognized the men. A breath of relief came when he realized who they were. Graeme approached their leader, and Liam sauntered from his hiding place.

  “What are you lads doing here?” Iain Mackenzie grumbled.

  Liam bade him to follow so he could discuss the matter in private. He quickly explained that Makenna might be inside.

  Even in the oncoming darkness, he saw the brightening of Iain’s angry face. The ornery laird grabbed his tunic and pulled him close. “Are ye saying my niece is in danger?”

  “She snuck away. I need to get in there.” Liam freed himself from Iain’s grip.

  “Ye cannot stop one wee lass from disobeying you? I should’ve retrieved her and taken her home. How could you let her come here? I must get inside.”

  Liam pulled him back. “The woman is beyond contemptible. Och I hold responsibility.”

  “Damned right ye do. If a hair on that bonny lass’s head is harmed, I’ll kill ye where you stand.” Iain growled and peered past him, at the castle walls.

  He scowled at Iain but agreed. “If she’s harmed, I’d want to be killed for it’s what I’d deserve. Only I shall go inside. I don’t want Hawksberry to ken we are here. If he hears us coming, he might kill Makenna. It would put her in danger.”

  “Christ Almighty, son, she’s in danger now. He’s probably already ravished her, the knave. She might already be dead. We are likely too late.” The woe and despair in her uncle’s tone, disheartened him.

  “Nay, we can’t be too late.” Liam shoved him and groaned. “God, please let her be alive.” He couldn’t help but repeat the prayer he’d spoken the entire journey to Bothwell.

  Graeme shuffled to stand between him and the Mackenzie laird. “Don’t instigate Liam, Iain. He’s beside himself. Liam, we’ll await here. If ye don’t come out within twenty minutes, we’ll follow you inside.”

  “Twenty minutes should be enough time to find and kill Hawksberry.” Liam patted the six daggers he’d placed on his person to remind himself where he’d placed them. A dagger sat in each boot, one fastened to his arm band, another to his leg, and an additional tucked in his belt at his waist and the last in the sheath over his chest. He wanted to be well prepared for he knew how wily and sneaky the English were.

  With his sword in hand, he ran toward the castle’s gatehouse. He stopped and took stock of its guards, only two.

  Riders came through the gate, apparently leaving the castle. Ten soldiers in all headed toward the main road. Carts lined the path and the gate rose to allow them through. Liam ran to the last and slipped beneath the empty tarp. The cart jostled him for a few minutes until it came to a stop. When he peeked out from beneath the tarp he realized he was at the main keep.

  Liam quickly left the cart and snuck inside the door. Inside, rows and piles of trunks lined the entrance. He stood behind them and assessed his next move. Two servants began moving the crates, grumbling about the chore. Liam took opportunity of their inattention and ran toward the steps to the upper floor.

  In the hallway above, only two torches lit the way. It was too dim to see the floor so he carefully treaded forward. Near the end of the hall, he heard a gasp and subdued a maid by covering her mouth. Her eyes widened with fear and he loosed his grip.

  “Do not fear. Where is Hawksberry?”

  The maidservant pointed to a door across from them. He released the woman. “Go and be quiet. Tell no one you saw me.”

  The maidservant nodded and ran off.

  Liam took hold of the door handle and hesitated. A vision of Makenna’s lifeless body came. He shook the horrid thought from his mind and opened the door.

  He entered and closed the door quietly. The chamber was large, but he quickly spotted Makenna across the chamber. She held a sword at Hawksberry, the tip at his chest.

  Liam moved swiftly and plucked her sword from her hands.

  “Go. Leave this second for I cannot look upon you. Go to your uncle. He awaits you.” His voice hard and commanding, he couldn’t be soft, not r
ight now when he needed her to do his bidding. What he really wanted to do was take her in his arms and never let go.

  When she didn’t move, he flung her away with a shove of his hand. “Get out of here before I say something we’ll both regret. NOW. GO.”

  Makenna shoved him in return and fled toward the exit. He noticed the tears in her eyes. But now was not the time for sentiment and he had no time to soothe her disgruntlement. He tossed her sword behind him and raised his. With his gaze on Hawksberry, he didn’t see Makenna grab her sword.

  “Who are you? I am grateful ye came to my rescue for that girl was quite maddened.”

  Liam swallowed his ire and said in utter calm, “I’m not here to rescue you, Hawksberry. I’m here to kill you.”

  “Are you? And what have I done to inflict your anger? I don’t know you. Oh, but you are Scots and all you Scots deem we’ve done something disparaging.” The man grinned as if he knew not his peril.

  “That lady is my wife and for all the atrocities you caused her, you will exist no more.”

  Hawksberry laughed with scoff. “Well, this is rather disappointing. All this bother over a woman’s wrath? Ah, but she must be worth it, for I vowed tumbling with her would’ve been rousing. Get on with it then. Just when I thought I was free of this heathen land …”

  “You will be free of it.” Liam thrust his sword.

  Hawksberry drew a rasped breath and blood flowed between his lips as the sword pierced his middle. He took hold of the sword blade and his eyes widened. “You … you struck me. You actually …”

  Liam yanked his sword free and kicked Hawksberry backward. The vile man fell upon his back and stared up at him.

  Rage consumed Liam. He pulled the dagger at his chest free and used it to ensure the serpent was dead. “That is for killing her mother.” He jabbed the blade in Hawksberry’s heart. “That is for her sister.” He shoved the dagger through his lower abdomen. “And that is for Makenna.” He stabbed the dagger into his neck. “Never will you speak another foul word.” By the time his fury abated, blood covered him.

  Hawksberry lay dead.

  Liam, breathless from his exertion, staggered to the table and snatched a goblet of wine from a nearby table. Without much ado, he chugged the drink down hoping it would calm him. As he stood there, gazing with disgust at the man who caused him much turmoil, his head swum. Liam tried to shake away the haze, but his body grew heavy. A pain wracked his stomach and he gasped for breath.

  “Damnation, I drank poison.” Liam stumbled toward the door. He needed to get out of the chamber and back to his comrades before he was subdued. He reached the threshold and fell to his knees. His eyes blurred and he slumped forward, hitting the floor in front of him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  All her hopes to enact retribution for her family were dashed. Makenna fled the keep and ran through the courtyard. She kept going until her sides stitched with sharp pains and her breath hitched. With distance between her and the castle, she stood in the wood and listened for the noise of her uncle’s army. Ahead, she heard voices and ambled toward the sounds.

  Tears burned her eyes and her heart ached. Not only at being foiled in her attempt to kill Hawksberry, but also because of Liam’s deceit.

  She searched the men near and spotted her uncle who stood taller than most. In a sprint, she ran to him and threw her body into his embrace and dropped the sword she’d held onto tightly. She wept uncontrollably. Iain Mackenzie stood dumbfounded, and yet offered solace and stroked her hair.

  “Cease your wails, lass. There, there. You’re safe now.”

  She tried to stop crying, but couldn’t. Her heart crushed and the anguish sprang from her eyes as tears soaked her cheeks. Her uncle helped her to his camp and settled her next to the small fire. He placed Mackenzie tartan around her shoulders.

  Graeme knelt next to her and set a hand on her shoulder. “Is Liam behind you?”

  She shrugged her shoulder, and sobs made it impossible for her to reply. After a few deep breaths, she tried to compose herself, and looked up at her uncle.

  “He sent me away. I know not if he comes. Uncle, I wish to be away from here. Please, can we not leave straight away?”

  “You won’t wait for your husband?”

  “He is no longer my husband.”

  Iain Mackenzie scoffed. “Bah, lass, you cannot decide to no longer have a husband. You’re angry, och you shouldn’t be. You acted in haste and foolishness.”

  His words crushed her further, and she lowered her face so he couldn’t see her dejection. “I wish to leave this minute. Liam told me you were waiting to take me away. He didn’t sound as if he wanted me to await him. Please, I must go. He detests me. I did not imagine his reaction.” She retrieved her sword and decided to keep it. The lavish sword would be a reminder of Liam’s deceit forevermore.

  Her uncle shot a glance at Graeme before shaking his head. “I am to meet the Bruce and his army here. I cannot up and leave, lass, because ye wish to.”

  “But I must go. I tell you, I shall die if you do not take me away.”

  Graeme grimaced and looked at her with loathing.

  The Mackenzie laird fumed and growled low in his throat. “Die? Ye look of good health. Aye, you’re being mawkish and are overwrought. Be sensible, lass, for we cannot leave just yet.”

  Makenna didn’t care that she was being overemotional. For once in her life, she allowed self-pity to rule her heart. “I shall die … of a broken heart. Liam does not love me. For if he did, he wouldn’t have shouted at me. Nay, he would have let me take retribution as I’ve told him many times I needed to. I must leave. I do not want to see him again. If you won’t take me, then I shall go on my own.”

  “How can ye not say he doesn’t love you? I’ve seen the look in his eyes when he bespoke of you to me. He worried for you, far more than I would have for my wife. A man cannot hide what’s in his heart.”

  “We have no time to dispute this. The king is coming. I must find Liam and go,” Graeme insisted. “Take her and I’ll retrieve Liam.” He sauntered off.

  Makenna sniffled and wiped her eyes, watching him retreat back toward the castle.

  “We shall go. I cannot have you here when the battle ensues. Och, I want to aid the king. You’re making this choice difficult, niece.”

  She rose and waited for his instruction, but he marched off and gave his men directions for them to stay and aid King Robert in retaking Bothwell. He chose five men to ride with him. One of the Mackenzie men secured a horse for her. Makenna rode out, happy to know at least Hawksberry was killed. At least, she suspected as much for the rage in Liam’s eyes attested to his intent.

  Makenna didn’t speak until the sun rose. The summer morning was warm and the day would be bright with sunshine. But the beautiful day was lost on her. She was miserable.

  “Where are we going?” she finally asked her uncle.

  “Home to Kinross.”

  A sadness thronged her chest. “But it was ruined, was it not?”

  “Some buildings were damaged, but the keep is intact. Many are rebuilding. The weather has been fair and most are making the best of it whilst they can.”

  She slowed her horse. “I cannot go there … to Kinross. Is there not an ally or other who you can take me to? I fear being there will be too much for me to bear.”

  “I ken how ye feel, lass. There is nowhere else I would leave ye, lass. Besides, your sister will be pleased to see you. She asks of you each time I return. I have bespoke of what I knew … that ye found your betrothed. Do ye not wish to see her?”

  Makenna gasped. “Roberta is alive?” She stopped her horse and waited for him to do the same. She stared at her uncle’s face in disbelief. “How?”

  “She surely is alive and is wed to the Maclean now, but she refuses to leave Kinross until you return. Her husband is mighty put out about it.”

  Makenna broke down in a mass of tears. Her dear sister hadn’t been killed. She lived.

 
“Why are ye weeping now?” her uncle asked, exasperated.

  “I do apologize, Uncle, for I never weep. This is all too much to bear. It is the most joyous news. She survived. Is she well after her ordeal?”

  “She is well enough, I suppose. Although, she doesn’t speak much of that day or what happened to her. Roberta told me of your courage and how you tried to save her. She’s been concerned for ye and swears that she won’t take her own happiness until she is sure of yours. Women are the vexing of me, I vow.” He turned and pressed ahead.

  Makenna nudged her horse forward. “I will only return for Roberta’s sake. Then I must leave. I cannot be there …”

  “Dearest niece, becalm yourself. If you cannot stay, I understand. What of your husband? He is sure to come for you.”

  “What of him? I doubt he shall come for he bid me to leave and to go to you. He no longer has a need for me. We agreed to wed since the betrothal was in place. We made a pact, he and I. I would help him regain his family’s lands which were kept until his wedding, and he promised to help me learn the sword so I could find Hawksberry and kill him. Only one of us kept our vow, and it wasn’t Kincaid.”

  “You ken he never intended to train you or permit ye to go after Hawksberry.”

  She raised her chin. “I know that now.”

  “You forget your duty and vows, lass. A wife’s duty is to obey her husband. You cannot walk away without incurring the gravest of sins. A wife stands by her husband’s decisions no matter if she agrees with him or nay.”

  “What sin do you speak of?”

  “To honor your husband. You ken he only tried to protect you. It was his right to do so. You are being a willful lass and should consider why your husband wanted to protect you. What other reason would he?”

  Dare he speak of love? She couldn’t consider it. Makenna sighed dejectedly and lowered her chin in humility. Putting it like that, she had to nod in agreement. Yet she didn’t have to like the fact that her husband was doing what he thought was honorable. “If he loves me, he shall find me and believe me, Uncle, I shan’t make it easy for him.”