MARGARET CRAIG SAT pensively at the ornate writing table in her chambers, tapping the quill upon the ink stained surface. Her brother, Andrew, presently near Perth, would not come, summoned only by his little sister. She knew this because she’d many times written to him, begging him to take her away from John. He’d ignored every plea. His history with their eldest sibling was rife with its own abuses and malignancies. But if John were gone, Andrew would then be baron Craig.
She was a coward, she knew, unable to bring herself to confront John on her own, even as he continued to torture and abuse dear Ada. Tears slipped from her eyes, for what John was doing to Ada, what he had done over the last three days since she’d tried to leave Dornoch with the prisoners, all of whom were now dead or gone. John would not be swayed by the pleas of the sister he despised. John had always only and ever been swayed by violence. So be it.
Her hand shook as she finally put pen to paper.
“John is dead. Come home,” was all she wrote.
Aye, it was a lie at this moment, but it would bring Andrew home, she knew. And before he arrived, Margaret was determined either to make it truth, or to have somehow managed to have freed Ada.
Chapter 3
May 1305
ADA MONCRIEFE PEEKED out the window and scanned the yard, her eyes moving left and then right. She thought she’d heard an unnatural sound. Her heartbeat quickened even as she could distinguish nothing out of place. But she stayed like that, watching, for several minutes.
When she was satisfied the noise and it’s source were not a threat, she moved away from the window. The dagger in her hand was lowered and she again sat near the cold hearth.
Today might be the day she struck out again.
Or, like all the days over the last many months, today she might only tell herself that she would move on and find her landing place, but then find one project after another to occupy her time until she reasoned it was too late now to start such a journey. Not that she had any idea what said journey might entail, having no clear idea where she was, or exactly where she might be going.
Will hadn’t moved, even when Ada had jumped up several minutes ago. She clicked her tongue, and while the noise lifted Will’s ears, he did not rise from the floor at her feet. He’d returned last night, having been gone for three days. While Ada did not begrudge him his freedom, and his need to roam, she never felt quite as safe when the wolf pup wasn’t around. Not so much a pup anymore, as he’d grown considerably since she’d stumbled upon him many months before. She’d been searching the forest for stray nuts or seeds over the long winter and had come upon the shaggy and scraggly pup not far from the cottage. She’d had no intention of stealing a wolf’s pup and had felt the entire area near him was a dangerous place to be. She’d skirted around him and left the yipping pup to his own devices, or the return of his mother. But he’d been in the same area the next day, and the day after that, his yipping having grown plaintive and desperate that Ada had finally taken him home.
Home. No, it wasn’t that, these four walls and that lone window were only a resting place. She’d only stumbled upon the cottage herself by chance, hadn’t yet found the courage to go further. She seemed only to be in some state of not really living and too afraid to die.
Ada blamed three people for her present circumstance: John Craig, for the scars she carried; Jamie MacKenna, for her inability to trust any human being; and herself, for being too cowardly to accept her fate and move on.
John Craig.
Not a day went by that thoughts of him did not come to mind. Curiously, she could scarce recall the first many weeks at his keep, only those last four days. He’d heaped on the abuses, day after day, until she feared her mind would be hacked away as were other little bits of her. And all the while, as daily tortures were inflicted, he kept reminding her, the worst was yet to come. He had no intention of killing her, he’d told her with some twisted glee. But a rape was coming, he kept promising. It would be the decisive finishing stroke, he’d said, “Though still I fear I cannot find it in my heart to kill you, sweet Ada.” And then dear Margaret had found her, broken and bleeding in the tower on the fourth night. Ada would never know how the timid girl had arranged it, but she had helped Ada out of the tower and away from Dornoch via the postern gate. Half mad with pain and grief, Ada had stumbled away on foot, had asked no questions, hadn’t even thanked Margaret, she recalled too often these days.
It had taken her weeks to return to her family in Newburgh, and she had arrived nearly incoherent. Her recovery had taken many more weeks and had been only a slightly lesser hell. She’d not lasted long there, her father had been unable to lay eyes on her, her scars a revulsion to him. Her mother had done naught but cry, her sisters were aghast and, sadly, unsympathetic; Sarah had asked her if she would please not attend her wedding, as she didn’t want her day to be ruined by the sight of Ada. Only Muriel had been able to look at Ada, only she had been a comfort to her. Nevertheless, Ada had left the Newburgh house, had slipped out during the night, had taken naught but the clothes on her back. She’d find a nunnery, she’d thought, ‘twas all she was good for now.
Peace, she’d mused. Maybe she’d find some peace.
She’d walked for weeks, slowly, aimlessly, thinking only about some direction of south, before she’d stumbled onto the cottage in the forest. She’d planned to spend only a few days, had discovered Will within the first few weeks, and had yet to find a reason to leave.
“Aye, Will, let’s get outside,” she said now, rising from the stool. It was her movement, less so her words, that roused Will. He followed Ada to the door and outside, both of them squinting a bit to adjust their eyes to the sunshine. Will stayed near as she walked the now well-known path toward the creek. The little stream was close and provided Ada all the water she needed for washing and drinking, and as the base of all her very bland soups and stews.
Just before the small ridge that crested above the stream, Will’s ear’s pricked up. He listened intently, his head cocked to one side. Humming a low growl, he stepped a few feet away from Ada, watching one particular spot in the trees. A stripe of hair rose along the center of his back. Ada withdrew her knife and scanned the forest. A flash of movement caught her eye. Her stomach constricted and dropped, a feeling that was all too familiar to her.
And then so many faces and forms came into the clearing, soldiers bearing an unfamiliar green and blue and gold tartan. To a man, their eyes were trained on Will and not on Ada. Will, God love him, did not leave her. He was angry at the intrusion, at the threat, but stayed in front of Ada, between her and the soldiers. His eyes moved from one to the next until both his and Ada’s gaze settled on the mountain of a man who walked through the horde and stood at the front. He was big and dark, with black hair and beard and black eyes. The eyes he kept trained on Will even as he stood casually with his thumbs looped through his belt.
“That’s quite a hound you’ve got there, lass,” he said, his voice deep, the sounds thick.
Ada said nothing, didn’t move her blade, even as the black eyes considered it.
“We mean no harm, lass,” he went on, “but you’re on Kincaid land and we need to know what you’re about. That you taken up at old Mungo’s place?”
Of course, she wasn’t sure to whom the borrowed home had once belonged. But they seemed to be aware of her presence there, and it would explain the recent feeling she’d had of being watched. Ada nodded.
“Now if you be needing a place to stay, we’ll take you on down to Stonehaven. The Lady Anice will no stand for a nice lass being on her own in the forest.”
“I am only passing through,” she said, eyeing all the soldiers in this man’s company. “And apologies to you, and your Lady Anice for having encroached.” She hoped her scratchy and pale voice reached them.
“Where you headed, lass?”
She hesitated. I was hoping to find a cloister that might take me in, sounded absurdly pitiful. Ada pulled the hood closer around he
r face. “Again, I am sorry to have caused alarm. I’ll be on my way.”
“Stonehaven’s no a bad place to take some refuge, lass.”
He didn’t seem unkind. He seemed...fatherly.
And John Craig, at first glance, had seemed a young girl’s dream of a bridegroom.
“We’ll move on today, sir,” she insisted.
The big man regarded her thoughtfully for a few minutes, taking one step closer, shortening the distance to less than twenty feet as his big booted feet crunched upon the hardened earth and crispy leaves. Will lunged, but only a few feet, giving several deep warning barks.
“He looks like a wolf, but that yapping is hound, aye?”
Ada didn’t know anything about her pup’s lineage. “Will is asking you to stay back, sir.”
The big man grinned, as if Will’s name amused him.
“I’ll no come closer, lass. I am Torren, captain of the Kincaid army. I really think you’ll want to come meet our Lady Anice.”
“You are very kind, sir. As I’ve said, we are only passing by—”
“Aye, but here’s my dilemma, lass. I dinna ken you. And you’re no giving me anything to make me think you dinna mean any harm to mine down at Stonehaven. I dinna think you want your wolf sprinkled with missiles,” he said, and threw his thumb over his shoulder to point out the several soldiers with arrows nocked and aimed at Will, “so I’ll ask you again to kindly come down to Stonehaven and meet Lady Anice.”
Ada could not be sure they wouldn’t kill her wolf-pup, but somehow thought this man wouldn’t allow it unless it was justified.
“Will you come closer, sir? Will is a good judge of truth.”
The big man grinned again within his dark beard. “Aye, I bet he is.” He walked slowly toward her.
Ada was aware of his bowmen repositioning themselves, to keep a clean line on Will. She breathed slowly, purposefully, trying to relax herself. She did not want her own heightened emotions to instigate any defense in Will. She stepped forward and placed her hand on the scruff at his neck and caressed the fur there, to let him know she wasn’t afraid. He would let her know if she should be, she hoped.
The man, Torren, continued to come, his gaze on Will, his hand on the hilt of his dagger.
When he stood only a few feet before her, Ada said, “I cannot leave him behind.”
“Aye, if he dinna eat my hand, he can come. But if he even looks sideways at one person, he’ll be locked up.”
It was a good response. A person with nefarious intentions wouldn’t have threatened even that much. They’d have assured her of anything.
Ada lifted her hand from Will’s neck. He moved, with halting steps, towards the big man, sniffing his way along. When he was close enough, he sniffed at the man’s hand, his head moving close and then not, until finally he began licking the man’s fingers.
Ada’s bottom lip fell.
The man raised his thick slanted brows at her and gave a wink. “Aye, ‘twas bacon at our first meal.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it, surprised herself even. Ada clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her mirth. She certainly hadn’t expected this. She reined it in quickly, unsettled by what she was feeling. She hadn’t felt...anything in so long, certainly not joy, even one as simple as this.
And then, as if her laughter had been an invitation, the soldiers began to crowd around Will, whose tail wagged at the friendliness and attention.
“He’s a big one, aye?’ said one, scratching behind Will’s ear.
“Look at his paws,” said another, on his haunches, setting his own hand on the ground to compare the size.
“Aye, but you’ve got your mam’s wee hands, Kinnon,” someone teased.
The pale-faced young man was unperturbed by the ribbing. He stood and faced Ada. “Why’d you name him Will? He needs a better name to suit him.”
“Like Zeus,” someone suggested.
“Warwolf!” Came another idea.
“She’ll no be naming her hound after an English war machine, Tamsin!”
“Wallace!” Cheers followed this suggestion.
But Ada barely heard. The distance had kept her face in the shadows of her hood, but this close, the shadows offered no protection. She felt her cheeks redden instantly and saw that both the lad, Kinnon, and the big man’s eyes were fixed on her face. They’d gone completely still, the youth gaping at her with some mix of horror and shock.
Best to get it over with, she told herself. While they suddenly seemed like good people, she had an idea that showing her face to them might actually be a means to escape. They’d take one look and likely send her on her way, politely and firmly.
Ada lowered the hood, curling her fingers around the edges, letting it fall down her back.
Someone gasped.
“Jesu,” another muttered.
She clenched her teeth. She met the pale blue eyes of the boy, Kinnon, not brave enough to look beyond him, to see all their expressions.
“That why you keep to the forest, lass?” His initial shock having worn, his tone was now level, giving no hint of either repugnance or sympathy.
Ada nodded. Will growled low, sensing a change in the atmosphere. The big man, Torren, absently offered his hand again for Will to sniff, his eyes upon her face.
The silence then stretched on, until Ada gave a nervous laugh, and said, “I haven’t actually seen it myself yet, but I guess your reaction tells me...that I probably do not want to.”
Many spoke out then, filling the air with lies.
“It’s no so bad, lass.”
“I almost did no see it.”
“You can hardly notice....”
And Ada knew then they were good people, indeed.
“Aye, c’mon, lass,” said Torren. “We’ll get you down to Stonehaven.”
She nodded, just as someone said, “Sister’ll take good care of you.”
ADA RODE BEFORE THE big man, Torren, and let her jaw gape for the second time that day, seeing the magnificent castle that was Stonehaven. It sat atop a flat-brimmed hill, with only the sea behind it. Carved of pale, sand colored stone, it boasted a tower in each corner and a massive wooden door, which stood as high as the third story. They rode through an arched tunnel to gain the bailey, where Torren immediately shouted out, almost into Ada’s ear, “You’ll no be running, lass! No running!”
Ada looked around to find the recipient of his chastisement, expecting to see a small child in harm’s way, for the vehemence behind his dictate. She saw only a blonde woman with curious short hair and a very large belly. The woman stopped and threw her hand onto her forehead to block the sun, to see who came.
“Torren, I’ve told you, I’m not breakable.”
He reined in and swung himself onto the ground and pointed a finger at the woman. “I see you running again, I’ll lock you in the keep. And the Kincaid’ll support me in this!”
When he turned to assist Ada in her dismount, she saw the woman stick her tongue out at him. Ada was set onto the ground and saw Kinnon rush over to the woman’s side.
“Sister, look what we found in the forest!”
Torren brought Ada around to face the woman, and chided Kinnon, “She’s no a what, boy.”
“Sister can see that, Torren,” was Kinnon’s response. He stood beside the woman, smiling as if he’d brought her some rare present.
“This is Ada, lass,” Torren said.
Ada met the woman’s gaze. She had never met a more beautiful person. While her hair was unusual, being cropped so close to her head, her eyes were an amazing shade of blue and her skin was perfectly creamy, and completely unblemished. Ada could read the shock in those very pretty eyes, but to her credit, the woman tamped it down quickly and offered her the kindest smile Ada was sure she had ever received.
“I am Anice.”
Ada nodded and bit her lip, not knowing what she might say.
Torren said, “She’s only passing through, lass, but we agreed she’d fare better i
n the keep than out in the forest.”
The woman did not hesitate. “Of course.”
Will burst onto the scene then, having sniffed most the ground inside the walls.
Torren was quick to shield the woman named Anice, stepping somewhat in front of her, his hand once again poised on his dagger. Ada guessed it was instinctive. But Will only tore through the group, headed for other things to sniff out.
“That’s Will,” Torren said, relaxing his stance.
“Is he yours?” Anice asked Ada, with some excitement.
Ada nodded again. “I found him.”
“He’ll probably no be kept away from her, lass,” Torren said. “Maybe the north tower would suit her, to keep the wolf away from the hall.”
Ada stiffened, which did not go unnoticed by the pretty blond. Anice was quick to explain, “It sounds awful, I know. But the tower room is one of my favorites. It’s very pretty. And it has its own entrance.” She pointed to a door at the base of one of the rear towers.
“And why were you running anyway, lass?” Torren asked of Anice.
Ada watched as the woman gave a sheepish glance to the big man. “I was hoping to catch Nellie before she was gone for the day.”
Torren rolled his eyes. “How much bread can you eat in one day?”
Anice shrugged and grinned at him. “Apparently, quite a bit.” And while Torren rolled his eyes at this, Anice said to Ada, “Have you eaten, Ada? Very good. Then come along, we’ll get you settled in.”
The woman, Anice, led Ada inside the keep and through the hall. At the far corner of the large hall, they entered a long corridor with light stone columns and an arched ceiling. It turned left and then right and finally showed a door at the end. The corridor was dark but not unnaturally damp, despite their proximity to the sea.
“If you decide to use this entrance, I can see to it that the lamps are lit daily,” Anice offered.
The Shadow 0f Her Smile (Highlander Heroes Book 3) Page 3