“No more cruel than being ripped from my own home and family. Am I never to see them again? I’ve had no choice in any of this. There is no reason to believe I will have any choice in the future.”
“’Tis a quandary, for certes. You must speak to Malcolm about this.”
“I can’t do that. Are you nuts? Can you imagine what he’d be like? As it is, he won’t let me leave the inner bailey.”
Elaine’s brow furrowed. “He’d lock you away in a turret and hide the key to keep Giselle from you, and to keep you from harm. Aye. Eat, True. You’re naught but skin and bones. There’s no use worrying yourself sick. All will be well.”
Malcolm surveyed the caravan he would lead to Inverness. He’d handpicked men to accompany the traveling party. Liam had been eager to go, and Robley had volunteered to stay behind with the rest of the garrison. Satisfied with the arrangement, he knew his home to be in capable hands.
Leading the mare he meant to give to True, Malcolm sought her in the milling crowd. He’d raised the horse from a filly, taking the time to train her himself. His favorite stallion, an Andalusian he’d won in Spain, crossed with one of their sturdy palfreys had produced this intelligent, sweet-tempered mare. Her dark chestnut coat reminded Malcolm of True’s silken locks the night she’d danced in the great hall. A smile of anticipation lit his face. She would be pleased.
Hunter had become his shadow, and even now the lad trailed behind him. Malcolm realized wedding True meant accepting Hunter as his foster son. The notion did not displease him. Hunter would grow to be an asset to their clan. Hunter was canny and brave, and he had a goodness about him that pleased Malcolm.
Just as Hunter put his small hand in his, Malcolm spotted True. Lifting the lad to sit in the saddle he’d had made for True, he led them through the crowd to her side. “True, I have something for you.” Malcolm swung Hunter to the ground and placed the mare’s reins in her hand. “She is yours.” He watched her with expectation.
“Ah…she’s lovely. Mi-gwetch, thank you.” She looked helplessly at the gift. “Malcolm,” she whispered, leaning close.
“Aye?” He leaned down to hear her.
“I don’t know thing one about horses.”
Incredulous, he straightened. “You jest.”
“No. I don’t know how to ride. The day you found me was the first time I’ve ever been on a horse. We don’t have them in my country.” That much she could say in truth. Horses had not yet reached North America in 1423.
“No horses?” Elaine asked, riding up to them on her own palfrey. “How can that be?”
“Do you know what an elephant is?” True reached out a hand to touch the horse’s velvety nose.
Elaine nodded. “Aye, we’ve seen drawings of such.”
“Are there any in Scotland?”
“Humph. I see your point.” Malcolm guided her to the horse’s left side. “’Tis time you learned to ride, lass.” He hoisted her onto the mare’s back and put the reins in her hands. “Unless you wish to walk to Inverness.” He winked at her and put her foot in the stirrup. Coming around to the other side, he did the same with her other foot. “She’s a good-natured mount and no’ likely to bolt. Stick close by Elaine’s side. Once we’re under way, I’ll come back to instruct you.”
“Malcolm, she’s lovely. Thank you.”
Her shy smile stole his breath, and joy welled up inside him. He cleared his throat, touched Hunter on the shoulder and signed, “You ride with me.” Hunter threw out his chest and grinned from ear to ear. Malcolm chuckled as he and his wee shadow set out for the head of the procession and his own waiting mount.
Alethia gasped as she watched Malcolm and Hunter walk away. Hunter imitated Malcolm’s swagger, every minute gesture and nuance of his hero’s movements. “Oh, look, Elaine.” She started to laugh, and Elaine soon joined her. When Malcolm stopped to give last-minute instructions to his men, Hunter put his hands on his hips and tilted his head exactly as Malcolm did. More people took notice as Malcolm and his mimic moved on to speak to the smithy’s family.
As the laughter grew in volume, Malcolm turned their way. Hunter did the same in perfect synchronization, setting everyone off in fresh peals of mirth. Malcolm and Hunter both wore befuddled expressions. The two walked back to Alethia as if their movements had been choreographed. Hunter matched Malcolm’s strides, leading with the same foot, holding himself exactly the same way.
“What is it?” Malcolm asked, his face clouded with confusion. Hunter’s perplexed expression matched it to a tee. It was all she could do to stay on the horse. Helpless to control her giggles, she implored Elaine’s help with a look.
“The lad idolizes you, Malcolm. ’Tis clear,” Elaine answered, wiping a tear from her cheek.
Malcolm glanced down at Hunter, who gazed up at him with open admiration. Alethia could see the understanding dawn as Malcolm put his hand on Hunter’s head. “Have I no’ said he’s a canny lad?”
CHAPTER NINE
With a toss of its head, the mare managed to wrest the reins from Alethia’s hands again. The willful beast moseyed away from the caravan of travelers in pursuit of a tasty snack by the side of the trail. Alethia gripped her mane as if the horse were in full gallop. “You are not helping at all,” she grumbled at Elaine, who laughed at her from her proper place in line.
“I canna help it. ’Tis quite funny.”
“Aack!” Alethia jerked as her horse took a step and stretched its neck low to nibble on some grass.
“You must let the horse know who is master.”
“Oh, I think it’s obvious to the horse who’s in charge.” Her mare moved farther up the slope in search of greener fodder, the reins dangling along on either side. She already knew from experience she couldn’t reach them on her own from her place in the saddle. “You are supposed to be teaching me.”
“Aye, but this is so much more fun.”
“I’m so telling your brother on you,” she scolded. Elaine only laughed harder. She heard the sound of a horse approaching at a gallop from behind her. Relief poured through her as Malcolm rode to her horse’s head and reached for the reins. Her relief turned to irritation when she saw the amusement in his eyes. Hunter giggled at her from his perch on Malcolm’s lap.
“Your sister has been no help at all,” she complained.
“How can you say such a thing?” Elaine cried. “Have I no’ retrieved your reins at least a dozen times?”
“You’re exaggerating.” She scowled. “It’s only been four times.” Lifting her chin, she glanced at Malcolm. “I’d like to ride in one of the wagons now.”
“Nay, lass.” Malcolm grinned as he knotted the ends of the reins together. “You’ll learn. ’Tis common enough for new riders to lose the reins. This should take care of the problem.” He brought them back over the mare’s neck and handed them to her. “She is trained to respond to your commands without them, should you wish it. Tighten your knees, and lean slightly in the direction you wish to go. Push slightly with the knee on the outside of the turn.”
She did as he instructed and was pleasantly surprised to find herself heading back toward the road.
“Aye, that’s it. Now give her a little kick with your heels.”
The horse began to trot, and she bounced around on the hard saddle. “Malcolm!”
“I’m right beside you.” He chuckled. “Relax. Pull lightly on the reins and lean back at the same time.”
Her mare slowed to a walk, and he helped her to regain her place next to Elaine. For the first time since being placed on the mare’s back, some of her tension melted away. She smiled at Hunter.
“What will you call her?” He gave her his most charming smile, the dimples on his cheeks in full view. She could tell he was in little-boy heaven riding with Malcolm at the head of the line.
“I’m not sure. I’ll think of something.” Alethia winked at Hunter and turned her attention back to Malcolm. “Will there be furs and hides for sale at the fair?”
&nb
sp; “Goods of all kinds will be available. Why do you ask?”
“Winter is almost here. I want to make boots and garments for Hunter and myself.”
He grunted. “We have our own tanner. Did I no’ tell you to come to me should you need anything? You and Hunter will be provided for.”
“Thank you.” Alethia concentrated on learning how to control her horse. She was becoming more accustomed to the mare’s rhythm as they plodded along. “Why didn’t Lydia come with us?” Malcolm and Elaine exchanged a knowing look, making her even more curious. “Tell me.”
“Our mother is Father’s second wife,” Elaine began. “His first wife died in childbirth. We have an older sister, Helen, who is wed to the earl of Sutherland’s heir. Father’s first marriage united the MacKintosh and Chattan clans as one. ’Twas an arranged match.”
When neither said another word, Alethia prodded. “That doesn’t explain why Lydia didn’t join us.”
“She’s terrified to travel, and for good reason.” Elaine grinned. “Our parents met and fell in love before Father married his first wife. Mother was only ten and five at the time. Father was ten and nine. Of course, he did his duty and married the Chattan woman.”
Elaine sighed. “Mother held valuable lands for her dowry, and there were many men who wished for her hand. She refused them all and swore she’d never marry. She vowed to run off and join a convent should her father force her to take a husband,” Elaine added dramatically.
“Shortly after his wife passed, Father sought my mother’s hand. Our grandsire was only too happy to agree, even though he’d never been overly fond of Father.”
“Still doesn’t explain the terror,” Alethia muttered.
“I’m getting to that part.” Elaine scowled. “Be patient. Mother traveled to Moigh Hall for the wedding with half a garrison to guard her. Even so, upon the way she was stolen by one of my father’s rivals who thought to force her hand.”
She gasped. “No.”
“Aye.” Elaine nodded. “My father nearly tore Scotia apart to get her back, and even offered part of her dowry as ransom. No real harm came to her, though she spent a good deal of time bound and blindfolded. The ordeal left her with little love of travel. Unless forced, she stays home. ’Tis because my father married for love the second time that he has granted Malcolm the privilege of choosing his own bride.”
Elaine’s expression became pensive as she shared that bit of information, and Alethia wondered what troubled her friend? Then she thought of Malcolm married to someone else. Jealousy pinched at her heart. Someone else would have his babies and share his life. She had no control over whether she stayed in this time or not, and either way it wasn’t likely they could marry. Malcolm’s father would not approve. Even though he had given Malcolm the right to choose his bride, she had nothing to offer in the way of a dowry or political gain.
What would her future be like if she couldn’t get back to her own time? Options were few for a woman alone in the fifteenth century. Alethia blinked hard several times and forced herself to think about something else. “Will we camp while in Inverness?”
“Nay,” Malcolm replied. “We will stay in Castle Inverness. ’Tis one of many we hold for our king. My father is the earl of Fife, as I will be one day.”
She smiled at the pride in his tone. “Why would your king need someone else to hold his property for him?”
“King James has been held prisoner by the Sassenach for eighteen years. Even so, we are his subjects, and ’tis common for kings to grant the privilege to those nobles he favors, and we have taken care of Castle Inverness for three generations.”
Alethia gave her horse a pat. “Who rules Scotland in James’s absence?”
“The duke of Albany acts as regent,” Malcolm said. “His father before him ruled as governor.”
Elaine leaned toward her and lowered her voice. “Our King James had an older brother who should have been king. ’Tis rumored their uncle murdered him so he could take control of Scotland for himself.”
Alethia looked at her in shock. “His uncle was the duke of Albany, I’m guessing?”
“Aye, Robert Stuart.” Elaine raised her eyebrows and nodded. “James’s brother David was locked away in a tower and starved to death. His uncle would have killed James too if he’d had the chance.”
“No way!” Her brow shot up. “And the duke of Albany got away with the deed?”
“No one could prove it, and few dared to challenge him,” Elaine replied. “Robert Stuart was a ruthless man and brutal. He’s dead now. His son Murdoch has taken his place.” Elaine’s eyes widened. “Some say he’s even more ruthless and greedy than his sire.”
Malcolm shot Elaine a quelling look. “My sister has a flair for dramatics. James was sent to France for his protection and education when he was but a lad. The English captured him en route, and he’s been held there ever since.” Malcolm turned to her. “Father is in London now negotiating the release of our king. He and a contingency of Scotland’s nobles will bring James home to take his rightful place upon the throne. By this coming spring, we shall once again be governed by our rightful king.”
“And I thought our politics were a tangled mess,” Alethia muttered. “This place is a regular soap opera.”
Alethia surveyed their camp from the top of a small rise. Tents and wagons hugged the banks of the river they followed. She stretched aching muscles and started to walk, eager to take advantage of the freedom to explore.
“Lady True,” Beth called.
She turned and waited as Tieren pulled Beth along by the hand.
“The lad has a question he wants to ask ye.”
Tieren spoke rapidly in Gaelic to Beth, signing at the same time.
“He wants to know what this sign means.”
Puzzled, Alethia frowned. “Sign it again.” He did, and she smiled at the silliness of young boys. “It means horse poop.” As Beth translated, Tieren’s expression changed rapidly from disbelief to outrage. He ran off. “What do you suppose that was about?”
“Och, no tellin’. Do ye want me to accompany ye on yer walk?”
“No. I just need to stretch my legs.” She waved her off and walked toward the hills. It would be good to have a few moments alone to think about everything she’d learned today. She let her mind go, relishing the coolness of the air against her skin and the ground beneath her feet.
She was on the crest of her second hill when she saw Liam on the far side. Preoccupied, he surveyed the surrounding area. As she approached, she couldn’t help but pick up on the strong emotions emanating from him. His feelings of yearning, frustration and anger revolved around a woman, that much she could tell. He turned at the sound of her footsteps.
“Good eve, Lady True.” Liam smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Why are you troubled, Liam? Will she be there?”
His body tensed, and he looked away from her. “Is who going to be where?”
“The woman occupying your thoughts, will she be at the fair? Would you like to talk about her?” His eyes searched hers, and she sensed his overwhelming turmoil.
“Mayhap you are the only one I can talk to about this.” He let out a long sigh and looked out over the expanse of wilderness. “I must ask you to keep my secret to yourself.”
“Of course, but it can’t be as bad as you think.”
“Aye, it can.” He glanced at her. “I love the daughter of our most bitter enemy. I want to make her mine, but I dinna dare. She will be at the fair, and it pains me we must pretend we are strangers.” His hand went to the hilt of the dirk at his belt. “What I feel for her is honorable. I have pledged my heart. Yet we must meet in secret, sneaking behind everyone’s backs to steal a few moments together.” Bitterness and anger filled his tone. He held himself as if ready to do battle. “If her father should discover our secret, I fear to think what would become of her. He is a cruel man and has beaten her for far less.”
“Have you considered eloping? Isn�
�t there somewhere you could take her?”
“I have considered every possibility. There is no place we could go. Should we be discovered, ’twould lead to bloodshed.” Liam raked a hand through his hair. “The enmity between our two clans runs deep and harks back to the days of Robert the Bruce.” He plowed his fingers through his hair. “Highland clans have long memories, lass. The Comyn laird is my lady’s father. He’s a ruthless tyrant, and he sees his daughter as naught but a pawn to be used for his own gain. ’Twill no’ be long before he’s arranged a marriage for her. That I canna bear.”
Liam’s anguish tugged at her heart, and Alethia reached out to touch his arm. “I’m sorry. Does Malcolm know?”
“Nay. I have told no one.”
She brought her thumbnail to her mouth and thought about his situation for a few moments. William and Lydia’s story still fresh in her mind led her to believe something could be done. Malcolm would fix it. He could do anything. “I think you should tell him. No one can hold a woman responsible for what her father does. We can figure something out. Don’t give up.”
“You dinna know our ways, lass.” Liam shrugged.
She turned at the sound of footsteps to see Malcolm striding up the hill toward them.
He nodded a greeting. “Hunter and Tieren are at it again, lass. There is need for you in camp, and ’tis almost time to take our evening meal.”
“What have the lads done now?” Liam asked. “I vowed to Tieren’s mother I would be responsible for him on our journey. Am I needed as well?”
“Nay, Liam. What they both need is a bath.” Malcolm grinned. “Hunter has given Tieren a sobriquet that does not please him.”
“What might that be?” She cringed.
“Och, lass, he’s been calling him horse poop. Tieren took umbrage and decided the best way to retaliate was to fling fresh dung at Hunter.” Malcolm shrugged. “Hunter flung it back. The two resemble mounds of the stuff, and none will go near them.”
True to the Highlander (The Novels of Loch Moigh) Page 12