Lord of Legend

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Lord of Legend Page 24

by Charlene Cross


  “Because ’tis known that James—”

  Chandra waited. “Go on. ’Tis known that James what?”

  Jason could have bitten off his tongue. “Tis not important,” he lied.

  “I say it is.” The moment the words had slipped from Jason’s mouth, an ominous dread had filled her soul. “It has to do with the clan Morgan, doesn’t it?” He remained silent. “Tell me, Jason. What has happened? What is James planning?”

  Jason sighed heavily. “Aleck will attend to it, Chandra. I can say no more. It is not my place to tell you.” Noting the stubborn set of her jaw, he studied her intently, then rose from his seat. “I have a strong feeling he was afraid you might react irrationally. Because of my error, I will have to remain here until my cousin returns to make certain you don’t.”

  Chandra stared after him as he strode to the door. “Jason!” she shouted, but he ignored her call. It didn’t take much intelligence to guess that he intended to make certain the gates were secured against her leaving. Anger bubbled inside her. Its source wasn’t simply Jason, but Aleck. Especially Aleck! Though relieved to know it was not Felicia, but James that Aleck sought out, she was still livid. He’d tried to keep her oblivious to the fact that her clan faced trouble. She was its leader. What right did he have to usurp her authority in matters that affected her people’s welfare? None! Jason didn’t need to say more than he had. Instinctively, she’d known that danger threatened her family. He could bar the gates if he liked. Nothing would keep her from her clan. Even if she had to dig beneath Montbourne’s thick walls to gain her freedom, this night would find The Morgan of Morgan on her way home to the Highlands, and to Lochlaigh.

  Well after midnight, Aleck finally found his bed. He’d spent the afternoon and evening with James discussing the clan Morgan. Adamant at first, the king had refused to back down from his command: The Morgans were to be eradicated. By their sixth cup of wine, James had wavered a bit. By their twelfth cup, each having been filled to the brim, his sovereign had changed his mind about destroying the clan. But Cedric Morgan’s fate was sealed. The man was to be brought to London and imprisoned in the Tower, where he’d live out the rest of his natural life. On that, James refused to relent.

  Chandra might not like her king’s edict, but in the face of losing all her family, sacrificing her uncle might not be so difficult to accept, especially since the man would keep his life. Pray God that the clan didn’t rally around Cedric, protecting him at the cost of their own lives. And pray God that Chandra learned nothing of this until it was over.

  The king had agreed to detain his army, holding it in the south of England. Once James and his advisers had devised a plan to trick the rebellious Cedric into being captured, a plan that he promised Aleck would eliminate bloodshed, James would effect the strategy. Possibly within the week. Relieved that his wife’s family no longer lay under the threat of the Crown, Aleck was now anxious to return to Montbourne.

  Chandra. Her name rolled through his head, and a deep longing rose inside him. Amazement filled him, for it had been less than three days since they had parted, yet he yearned for her as though it had been a whole year. By week’s end, he promised himself, she would again be in his arms.

  Bone-weary and slightly tipsy, Aleck could no longer hold his eyes open. Tomorrow he’d set out for Montbourne. He yawned, then within moments, he slept.

  Close to two in the morning, Chandra crept along the backstairs at Montbourne toward the kitchens and the cache of food she’d hidden close to the rear door earlier in the evening. Her soft deerskin boots padded down the final three steps, and she stopped to listen. Not hearing a sound, she dashed toward the outside exit, snatching up the leather bag as she came upon it, the low flame in the huge stone fireplace lighting her way.

  Three guards walked the high wall, halting on occasion to view the yard, then look out over the black countryside. No moon shone this night, which was to Chandra’s advantage. Keeping to the shadows of the sparsely lit courtyard, she worked her way toward the stables. Inside, she found no one about, and she quietly slipped along the line of stalls to the one she’d selected in advance. A mare stood inside, and at Chandra’s approach, the frisky beast snorted. “Hush, lassie fair,” Chandra cajoled in a whisper. “We’ll be on our way in a minute.”

  Chandra quickly packed the mare’s hooves with straw, covering them with squares of leather that she pulled from the bag she carried, binding each hoof above the fetlock with a narrow length of rope. Her task finished, she bridled the mare and led her from the stall. Time was priceless, and she might regret it later, but she forwent the use of a saddle. As she left the stables, the mare trailing silently behind her, the bag looped over her shoulder by its sturdy leather strings, she grabbed what appeared to be an axe handle, its head having broken free. Just in case, she thought, hoping she’d not have to use it.

  Again she kept to the shadows, moving stealthily toward a little-used gate. Gaining her destination, she dropped the mare’s reins and set the axe handle against an old barrel. Several others blocked the aged doors. With silent grunts, she edged them aside, creating a path and enough room for the door to swing open. Then she lifted the heavy wooden bar. A hollow thump met her ears as the thing fell to the ground. Praying no one had heard it, she eased the door open, then rushed toward the mare.

  “You almost made it,” Jason said; Chandra’s heart leapt into her throat. He stepped from the darkness, stopping in front of her. “Aleck wouldn’t have appreciated your running off into the night. Had you succeeded, he’d be mad as hell at me. God’s wounds!” he exploded, then laughed. “On second thought, he would have killed me.” A shout sounded from the wall, and Jason ordered the guard back to his post, assuring them all that everything was under control. While Jason’s attention was averted, Chandra sidled toward the barrel. “Come, cousin,” he said, turning her way, motioning her toward him. “I’ve had little sleep these past few nights.” He bent to reach for the mare’s reins. “Let’s—”

  The axe handle hit Jason between neck and shoulder; he fell face first to the ground with a hard thud. Fearing she had indeed killed him, Chandra stooped beside him. He still breathed, but he was out like a snuffed candle. “I’m so sorry, Jason,” she whispered, her hand smoothing over his cheek. “But it could not be helped.” Pressing her fingers to her lips, she then placed them on his forehead. “Farewell, cousin. I hope Aleck goes easy on you.”

  Rising, she searched the wall to note that the guards faced away from her. Retrieving the bag, which had fallen from her shoulder, she led the mare out through the open gate. Together they descended the hill. Quietly, furtively, they walked across the dark and barren terrain, but once they reached the cover of the trees, she leapt into action. The leather coverings were pulled from the hooves, the straw brushed away. In a trice, she was astride the mare’s back, and they were heading north. She didn’t look back—not until she reached the border.

  “Sweet Scotland,” she said almost breathlessly; at last she’d crossed the boundary! Reining the mare in and around, she viewed England’s shadowy landscape. Tears stung her eyes as she envisioned all she had left behind. Aleck. Her lord of legend. Her husband. A sob rising to her throat, she imagined his face as he rose above her, his compelling gaze holding her spellbound. As she turned the mare north once more, her heart aching intolerably, she wondered if she would ever behold his handsome visage again.

  Aleck spun upward from his dreams of Chandra. A soft, warm body lay next to him; a slender hand moved low on his belly. He felt himself harden. “Ah, sweet,” he said in a groggy haze, rolling toward the woman beside him. “Is it really you?”

  “Yes, darling. I’m here.”

  Darling?

  The word clanged through Aleck’s head; the fog lifted from his brain. He bounded from the bed to stare at the dim figure reposing on the mattress. His eyes confirmed what his ears had told him. “Bitch,” he grated, snatching his breeches from the floor and shoving his legs into them. Striki
ng a spark with a tinderbox, he lit the candle. The flame illumined Felicia’s nude body. “Get from my bed and dress yourself,” he commanded, his anger barely held in check. “Then leave my room.”

  Not in the least bit fazed, Felicia remained where she lay. “I hadn’t meant to startle you, Aleck. I simply wanted to ease your tension and give you pleasure. Come join me. You know I have the power to satisfy your needs. My body is yours, Aleck. Let’s enjoy a lusty romp for old time’s sake, hmmm?”

  “God’s wounds, woman! You must be insane to think I’d ever lie with you again. ’Tis over, Felicia. It has been since the day I met Chandra.”

  Felicia’s gaze sharpened. “So, the little Scottish bumpkin has stolen your heart, has she?” Her throaty laughter erupted. “I cannot imagine, as backward as she is, that she could ever satisfy a man such as you.”

  “Naive she might be, but she is eager to learn, Felicia. And I am eager to teach her. She gives me pleasure beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. No other woman can make such a claim, not even you.”

  Feeling as though she’d been dunked in the North Sea, Felicia sobered. “You truly are in love with her, aren’t you?”

  “Aye, I am,” he said without hesitation, just now realizing it was true. His heart swelled with the knowledge. “Because of that love, I have sworn to remain faithful to her until the day I die. I would never risk losing her—never. Take yourself from my room, and should ever we meet, do not approach me again. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, very,” the subdued woman responded. She rose and donned her wrapper, then quietly made her way to the door. “Aleck,” she said, once she’d opened the panel; he turned her way. “I hope your bride knows how fortunate she is.”

  Aleck stared at the door for a long while after it had closed. God! Had he responded blindly to Felicia’s nudity, his dazed state allowing him to believe it was Chandra, he would have broken his vows. Madness, he thought, wanting to be away from here and back in his wife’s arms. Glimpsing the window, he saw it was nearly dawn. He dressed quickly, stashing his meager belongings in a leather satchel. Shortly his boots struck the stones along the corridor as he headed toward the stables. Home, he thought as he rode north. Home to his wife. Home to his lover. Home to his flame-haired Scottish lass. Chandra.

  Jason coughed and sputtered as he tried to draw air into his lungs. Doused with a bucket of water, he’d jerked awake. Rising to his feet, his hand easing the pain in his neck, he stood face to face with Winnie.

  “Where is the countess?” she asked, glaring at him.

  He blinked, then looked around him to see the open gate. A curse rolled from his lips. “I’m doomed,” he blurted.

  “Aye, you are,” Winnie agreed. “I thought you were watching her.”

  “I was—caught her, too. But she was too quick.” Stars still twinkled in his head each time he moved. As he retrieved the axe handle, he winced at the pain. “This must have been her weapon.” He tossed it aside. “Have a boy saddle my horse. I’ll go after her.”

  “Too late for that,” Winnie said. “By now, she’s a long ways off.”

  “Then I’ll go to London to tell Aleck—if he hasn’t already started back.”

  “Someone else will ride south,” she said, hands on her hips. “You’ll stay here so you can take your lumps when Master Aleck arrives. Into the hall with you.”

  Jason half expected Winnie to grab hold of his ear and march him toward the door. Although it hadn’t been till later years that he and his parents resided at Montbourne year-round, he remembered how the woman had reprimanded him during his visits when he was quite young. A devil, he was. He’d not deny it. But her twists and pinches were mild compared to what he’d suffer on Aleck’s return. Damnation! Why hadn’t he stayed in London?

  For the next two days, Jason paced his room. When the shout went up that Lord Montbourne was approaching the castle, he closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, then headed toward the hall’s main entrance, where he waited. Jason noted that Aleck’s gaze snagged him straightaway. His cousin slid from the saddle, his booted feet hitting the ground with a thud. In a few hard steps, Aleck was upon him.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Aleck asked.

  “A fine way to greet a guest,” Jason countered, dreading the moment of revelation.

  Aleck stared at his cousin for a long moment. The look wasn’t friendly. “Where’s Chandra?” he questioned, striding into the hall.

  Jason swallowed his urge to gulp. “As a matter of fact, that is why I am here.”

  Aleck stopped in mid-stride and spun round. His cold eyes froze his cousin to the spot where he stood. “What do you mean?”

  Drawing a deep breath, Jason set himself to explaining. “I came to Montbourne some four days past to apprise you of the rumors at court concerning the clan Morgan, but you had gone. I was informed you’d left on matters of importance, so I assumed you had already heard.”

  “And?” Aleck asked, dread rippling up through him.

  “And in conversation with Chandra, I let slip that James—”

  “You did what?” Aleck fairly shouted, grabbing hold of Jason’s shirt, jerking him toward him. “Don’t tell me she knows about this, cousin, or I’ll—”

  “I caught myself before anything was actually said,” he broke in, wrestling free of Aleck’s grip. In no way did Jason desire to brawl with his cousin. They were fairly evenly matched, but in good conscience, he refused to strike an injured man. For when Aleck learned Chandra was gone, his heart was certain to be torn in two. Besides, Jason blamed himself. “Intelligent as she is, Aleck, she managed to guess the truth. I set guards at every gate—”

  “Chandra!”

  Aleck’s voice boomed through the hall as he ran toward the stairs. Jason loped after him. He caught Aleck’s arm just as he started to bound up the steps. “She’s gone, Aleck. She escaped us two days ago. Winnie told me that other than some provisions, she took only the clothes she wore when she first arrived here, her plaid included. She’s returned to Scotland, Aleck. She’s returned to Lochlaigh and her clan.” Blue ice, Jason thought as he looked into his cousin’s eyes. Then his hand was shaken from Aleck’s arm. “What is it you plan to do?” the younger Hawke asked, following his cousin to the kitchens.

  Without preamble, Aleck snatched a large square of cloth from a servant girl’s hands. His action startled her, and she scurried from the room. “Since your stupidity has placed my wife in grave danger,” he said, tossing a loaf of bread, a brick of cheese, dried fruits, and some nuts into the middle of the cloth, now spread across a small table, “I have no choice but to go after her.”

  Jason watched as Aleck wrapped the cloth around the provender, then tied its ends together. As Aleck started to lift the makeshift sack, Jason again caught his arm. “I’d think that since it is you who killed her cousin and abducted her in the first place, it is you who are in the most danger, not Chandra.”

  Aleck hoisted his cache. “Her uncle wants her dead, Jason, for then he’ll become chief. He is unaware of what James is arranging for him, so he will plan and plot until the deed is done. Pray God she still lives, cousin. For if she is dead, when I return, you, too, will die.”

  Jason chased after Aleck as he left the kitchens. “You’re foolish to go alone,” he said. “Wait until we can assemble some stout men to ride with you.”

  “There is no time for that. Be assured, I am able to take care of myself. Chandra is not.”

  “There is no possible way that you could fend off the entire clan,” Jason countered. “Think about it, Aleck. You’re one man, alone.”

  “And she is one small woman, alone.”

  They had neared the doors leading into the courtyard. In his exasperation, Jason snarled, “Damn it, Aleck. Is it your wish that I inherit all this? If so, I’ll take it—gladly.”

  The words sliced through Aleck like a knife. He’d lost a loved one because of the father, he’d not lose another because of the son. “You son-of-a—”
His fist met Jason’s jaw before the last word was uttered. Striding over his unconscious cousin, Aleck quit the hall.

  By the time Jason managed to drag himself from the floor, Aleck was gone. The younger Hawke feared it would be the last time he ever saw his cousin alive. His words had been uttered in anger, for Aleck had refused to take heed. Obviously, he’d hit a raw nerve.

  Staggering toward the stables, pain still shooting through his head, Jason ordered his horse saddled. As he rode south toward London, he decided that he would not soon return to Montbourne. Unfriendly lot, he dubbed them, his jaw and neck causing him extreme misery. After he’d seen his mission to fruition, he intended to break all contact with the Montbournes. For now, though, he planned to apprise James of the situation. The king’s army would not remain inactive for long. Of that Jason was certain.

  Under a moonless sky, several hours before dawn, Aleck urged his steed onward, keeping to the shadows of the trees. Heavy clouds rolled above the moors; rain appeared to be in the offing. With maybe a mile, no more than two, until he at last spotted the walls of Lochlaigh Castle, he wondered how he might gain entry. Perhaps Jason’s cautioning advice held more validity than Aleck had first thought. Alone, he could do little. Yet with an army thundering behind him, he lost the element of surprise. But the force of one might not be enough. Damn! His hasty ride to the Highlands had been ill-conceived, but little could be done to change that now. Somehow he had to discover his wife’s whereabouts. Pray she still lived, he thought. Chandra, sweet Chandra. He could not bear it if she were forever lost to him.

  Aleck heard a rustling in the treetop directly above him. The wind, he decided—then wished he’d thought twice as an eerie cry sounded and a nude figure dropped from the branches. Cedric. The name shot through his mind, recognition taking hold. The stallion shied and reared; Aleck tumbled to the ground. Rolling over, he leapt to his feet and reached for his sword. Too late; the swinging mace flew at his head, the spiked end grazing his temple. His legs buckled and blood streamed from his wound. Desperately Aleck fought to retain consciousness. Chandra! Her name seemed to whistle through the trees just as the blackness won out.

 

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