My Highland Rebel

by Amanda Forester

  “Here!” She pointed to the chapel, which had an exterior entrance right on the other side of the postern gate. He could load the books in there without even having to enter Kinoch Abbey farther than the chapel.

  “Your father would not be likely to visit the chapel?”

  Breanna just laughed at him, a lively, warm sound. How long had it been since he had heard a lady laugh?

  Luke cleared his throat. What could he be thinking? He needed to focus back on his current dire situation. “Thank you. That is a helpful suggestion, indeed.”

  Breanna smiled at him, free and bright. “Shall I help ye?”

  “That would be appreciated.”

  After a brief debate on tactics, it was decided that Breanna would stand guard and Luke would haul his precious manuscripts into the chapel. It worked well, and she was able to signal to him when to hide and when to continue. In truth, he could not have done it without her.

  More than once, he caught himself looking in her direction, not only to check for a signal but also because he enjoyed the view.

  But no, that was not a path open to him anymore. He had tried once and had lost in such a manner as to wreck a man. He would never again have love in his life.

  Twenty-four

  “Get up! Are ye going to sleep all day?”

  Cormac rolled over in bed and groaned, ignoring his sister. Everything hurt. His back hurt, his legs hurt, his arms hurt, his hands and feet hurt. Places on him that he wasn’t even aware he had hurt. Of course, he had never worked so hard in his life. He had pleased Jyne, but at a price.

  “I see you have enjoyed your rest,” accused Brother Luke.

  Cormac opened one eye to face his detractors. Brother Luke and Breanna stood at the side of his bed. It was the second time he had seen them together. Both had a determined look about their mouths. Luke in particular did not appear as neat as usual; his eyes were dull and his robes rumpled.

  “I was up all night,” defended Cormac as he slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position in the bed. He wondered what made Luke look so haggard. “Ye look tired yerself.”

  “I’ve been up all night and all day, moving the books and scrolls, no thanks to you. I see getting your rest was more important to you than keeping your promise to me.”

  Core’s heart sank. He had truly intended to help Luke. “Och, Luke, I meant to come help ye. What time is it?”

  “’Tis dusk. Ye’ve quite slept away the day,” said Breanna without mercy.

  The sharp realization that he had broken his promise to help Luke protect the books brought an avalanche of guilt. How could he have been so thoughtless?

  Cormac knew how. He would do anything for Jyne. As much as he admired Luke, the monk didn’t have eyes like Jyne, or smell like Jyne, or look like Jyne.

  As if reading his mind, Luke narrowed his eyes further. “Do not tell me you were with Lady Jyne Campbell.”

  Cormac froze, trying to figure out how to deny this without actually having to lie to a monk.

  “By the saints, Cormac, ye’re going to get yerself killed,” exclaimed Breanna. “When the Campbell comes, and he will, will he not take vengeance against ye?”

  “I plan to be gone long before he arrives.” Cormac yawned to show that he was not concerned at all. Or at least to pretend he was not concerned.

  “Who will be gone?” asked Brother Luke in a solemn tone. “Cormac or the Fire Lord?”

  Cormac looked away. Luke had touched a nerve, and Cormac did not wish to let him know. Plowing the fields through the night, Cormac had begun to think as if he would be staying at Kinoch Abbey with Jyne. He had begun to plot out what he would plant in the fields and how they would celebrate the harvest together. He had imagined himself and Jyne sitting around the hearth through the winter, telling tales and eating their fill of the food they had stored. In this shiny dream, his father did not exist, her brother did not exist; it was just him and Jyne.

  Core glared at Luke and Breanna. He did not appreciate the intrusion of reality into his desires. “I have a plan.” He was going to get a plan. Somehow.

  “Ye canna possibly think that somehow ye could keep her?” gasped Breanna. “Whether as Cormac or the Fire Lord, she will ne’er be wi’ ye. Ye must know that.”

  Cormac shrugged. He was regretting bringing Breanna to Kinoch. He should have left her to care for the bairns in the crofters’ huts.

  “Have ye gone mad?” exclaimed Breanna. “Ye ken who our father is, and so does Laird Campbell. What do ye think Jyne will say when she discovers ye’ve been deceiving her all this time?”

  “She’ll never find out,” said Core testily. “That’s the point of lying.” He was being goaded into positions he did not truly believe. He wanted to be honest with Jyne; he just couldn’t figure out how.

  “I see,” said Brother Luke. “You lie to Lady Jyne. You break your word to me. This is all part of your plan?”

  “I’m sorry I dinna come today. I dinna mean to break my word. I was exhausted,” defended Cormac. “And what are ye two doing together?” He needed to change the subject.

  “Your sister helped me move the books.”

  “Ye went all the way to the monastery?” Core sat up farther, glaring at his sister.

  “Nay, Brother Luke brought the books here.”

  “Here?” Core almost jumped out of bed, but realized he had taken off his plaid, so he remained beneath the blankets.

  “They are in the chapel,” said Luke.

  “Well, that would be the one place Rex would’na go,” admitted Core. “But ’tis a terrible risk. Someone might tell him.”

  “I had not the benefit of assistance in finding a better spot,” returned Luke archly. He attempted a glare that ended in a yawn.

  “Ye need some sleep. And, Breanna, ye need to get back to yer chamber. Where’s Lady Jyne?”

  “In the kitchens, I warrant.”

  “Ye left her unprotected wi’ our father’s men?”

  “Nay, ye did that when ye invaded this place,” she replied tartly. “What are ye going to do when Rex comes? Ye promised a treasure, but there is none.”

  Cormac stilled. “He is coming here?”

  “Rex has spoken of it. I dinna ken when. What does he wants from ye?”

  “He wants me to be like him.”

  Breanna snorted. “He’s in for disappointment, he is.”

  “I have a plan,” said Cormac. This time, both Luke and Breanna were silent, waiting to hear this plan. “My experiments, they finally worked. I can call down thunder and lightning!”

  “Nay, ye jest,” dismissed Breanna.

  “Actually, he is correct,” said Luke in a grim tone. “I fear his studies have led him to create and unleash the destructive power of black powder. He used it to rip a hole through the postern gate.”

  Breanna’s eyes grew wide. Finally, someone was impressed. He forgot his earlier desire to send her away and was back in charity with her.

  “Truly? I thought yer boasts were naught but fancy,” she admitted.

  “Cormac is not the only one to experiment with this power,” informed Luke. “The English have already advanced their understanding of this artificial thunder and lightning to create cannon, which they used to great effect at the battle of Crecy in France.”

  “The English have this knowledge? Not a pleasant thought,” said Breanna.

  “Aye. Rex will be so impressed when he sees what it can do,” said Core. “He will forget all else to have me create this powder for him. With my skills, he shall be invincible!”

  “Ye would give this power to our father?” Breanna’s eyes grew wider still.

  “Aye. He will finally see the benefit of book learning.” This was Core’s hope and dream.

  “Nay, ye mustn’t.” Breanna sank down on a chair by the bed and grasped his hand. “Ye
mustn’t let our father control such power.”

  “I agree,” said Brother Luke. “You cannot allow such a man to use this weapon against others. Just think of the misery that would bring.”

  “Promise me ye winna give Rex this power.” Breanna squeezed his hand. “Our father can do enough damage as it is.”

  This had always been the problem with his plan to find respect in his father’s eyes. Core had justified it, telling himself the black powder would only accelerate the inevitable. When Rex attacked, he won.

  Core ran his fingers through his hair in a distracted manner. They were right. Red Rex would be unstoppable with such a weapon. He could not allow it. Cormac sighed and rested his forehead on his bent knees.

  “I hope that wasna the plan,” said Breanna softly.

  That was his last card to play, his one way out if he could not find a treasure. His shoulders sagged with defeat. He had the one thing that might actually impress his father, and it was the one thing he could not share. Now how was he going to prove himself? His father would not stop until Core had been turned into some version of a warlord.

  “I thought I told ye to get back to yer own chamber,” growled Cormac at Breanna, defensive to the last. He had been thrilled this morning at having tricked his men into plowing the fields. Now his happy dreams shriveled into dust.

  “Ye’re just saying that because ye ken I’m right!” Breanna stood and flounced out of the room.

  When the female audience had left, Core hauled his aching body out of bed and belted on his plaid. It was time to face the day. Or what was left of it. What was he going to do now?

  “You should tell Lady Jyne the truth. It is not fair to her to deceive her,” said the monk as he sat down on his pallet.

  Another problem. Core hastened his pace. He needed to leave the solar before he was reminded of any other complications. But Jyne…Jyne was the one person Core never meant to hurt. “I winna hurt her.”

  “You will. Eventually, her brother will come. And if he doesn’t kill you for being the son of Red Rex, he will kill you for taking liberties with his sister.”

  “I will figure out something when the time comes,” grumbled Cormac. Truth was, he was not sure what he was going to do. “And I’ve no’ taken liberties,” he added. His conscience pricked him. Yes, he most certainly had. “Well, no’ too many,” he defended, even as the memory of their kisses hung on his lips. He would remember them until the day he died, which he hoped would not be soon.

  “Liberties enough,” said Luke.

  “Go to sleep now, my friend. I am sorry I wasna there to help ye.” Cormac needed to escape.

  Luke struggled to remain sitting up, fighting against the fatigue that was overcoming him. “Breanna said you deceived the men into plowing the fields for Lady Jyne. Is that true?”

  “Aye,” said Core with a smile. Finally, Luke was recognizing the good he had done.

  “Why would you go to such trouble, especially if you do not intend to stay? You have not lost your heart to Lady Jyne, have you?”

  “Nay, dinna be absurd.” Core couldn’t look at his friend for fear the truth would be revealed. For once, he longed for the stupid helmet to protect him from the truth he feared was evident on his face. An uncomfortable silence fell over the chamber.

  “You have. You love the young lady.” Luke shook his head. “I am sorry for you. That is the worst thing you could have done.”

  “Good night,” said Cormac, walking to the door. He was not interested in reality. He was interested in claiming his reward from Lady Jyne.

  “Do not tell me you are going to see Lady Jyne again?”

  “As ye wish.” Cormac’s hand was on the door latch.

  “You are going to see her,” Luke accused. “Can you not see that it will end in disaster?”

  “Aye, well, that’s a cheery thought.”

  “You are the worst kind of fool. One who knows he is doing something foolish, yet still goes and does it anyway.”

  Core ground his teeth and turned slowly to face his accuser. “I am my father’s son.”

  “You cannot help having a bastard for your father, but you can decide not to act like one yourself.”

  Anger sparked within him. “Just because ye gave up on finding love to hide away as a monk doesna mean everyone else should.”

  Luke’s eyes widened and then narrowed immediately into small slits. “Do not speak of things you cannot understand.”

  “Oh no, it is only for you to lecture me. All ye’ve ever done is hide away wi’ yer books. Ye’ve ne’er experienced anything but the safe walls o’ yer cell. Ye’ve always had someone else to feed ye and clothe ye. Ye canna possibly understand what it is to live in this world.”

  Luke jumped up from his pallet, his eyes blazing, his calm exterior shattered. “You know nothing!”

  Silence fell in the solar. The last of the sun’s rays had melted away, and the room had grown dim. With a sigh, Cormac sat at the small, square table. Brother Luke sat opposite him. “What happened to ye?” Cormac asked.

  “Prince Claudio.”

  “Who?”

  “He was the sod who married my Elena.”

  “Ye set yer sights on a lady who would marry a prince?”

  “I am a duke, or at least I was.”

  “Ye’re a duke? Truly?”

  “Was. Not anymore.” Had anyone else made such a claim, Cormac would have laughed it off as absurd, but Luke had such a bearing that he believed it.

  “Why did ye no’ win the heart o’ the one ye loved?”

  Luke shook his head and sighed. “I was from a Ghibelline family. She was from a Guelph. Despite the fact that our houses were at war, we fell in love. I loved her more than my own breath, more than the beat of my own heart. When her father denied us, we decided to force his hand. We ran away and found a priest to marry us. When we told her father what we had done, we thought he would be angry, that he might disown her, but we never thought that he would send mercenaries to kidnap her and drag her back to his house, only to force her to marry that dreadful prince.”

  Cormac frowned. “But she was yer wife. Did ye no’ fight for her?”

  Luke gave him a sad smile. “Of course I did. I gathered my forces and attacked. I besieged their castle. My thought was only for her, to get her back, to protect her from her own father and the bastard who called himself her husband. I thought she would be inside, protected and safe until I could get to her. But she was not. She ran to the castle wall, and a stray arrow struck her…struck her through her chest.”

  Silence once again fell in the solar as darkness gathered in the corners and crept closer, slowly overtaking the room.

  “Did she die?” Cormac asked softly.

  “Yes.”

  “My condolences to ye.”

  Luke looked down and swallowed hard. “I am only trying to save you from the pain that I have endured.”

  “I am sorry for yer loss, but…”

  “You still want to go to her tonight.”

  “If Elena was here tonight, would ye no’ go to her?”

  Luke’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded his head in defeat. “Go to her then. But be prepared to pay the cost, for when your account comes due, I fear the reckoning will be very dear indeed.”

  Twenty-five

  Bran was waiting for him when Core reached the bottom of the spiral stairs. “There was no treasure.”

  “There was none?” asked Core. He knew how unhappy his men would be once they realized they had worked all day for no reward, but he had decided the risk was worth it.

  “Ye’re no’ surprised. After we had plowed up seven different fields, I realized what ye’d done. Ye made us farmers!”

  “Nay, I thought the Templars would have buried—”

  Bran’s fist struck fast, catching him on the c
hin and sending him sprawling. “Enough o’ yer lies!” roared Bran, looming over him with malice in his eyes. “I thought yer father was the master o’ deceit, but ye win that prize, boy. There ne’er was any treasure, was there? Ye just said that to save the life o’ some fool monk. And ye had us out there today playing crofter because ye’re sweet on that Lady Jyne.”

  “I did what had to be done.” Core rubbed his jaw and stood back up. It was not the first time he had been knocked down.

  “She’s a bonnie lass, but I canna believe ye put us through all that, all for a piece o’—”

  In a flash, Cormac lunged at Bran, knife in hand. “Dinna insult the Lady Jyne,” he snarled, the tip of his knife pointing into Bran’s throat. Core had endured Bran’s abuse for years, but never before had he fought back.

  Bran stared at him, wide-eyed with surprise. Core dug the tip of his knife into the man’s throat, drawing blood, and Bran’s face hardened. “It’s like that.”

  Cormac stepped back and returned his knife to his boot. “It’s like that.”

  Bran put a hand to his neck where he had been pricked and stared at the blood on his hand. When Bran looked back up at him, it was with a new respect. “Well then, I’m sorry fer ye, but it doesna change anything. It’s over, Cormac. It’s time to face Rex.”

  Core leaned against the stone wall, fearing the meaning of Bran’s words. “How much time do I have?”

  “I already sent a runner. Yer time’s up.”

  Core felt a weight crush down upon him. His dreams shattered. It was all over. Core gradually became aware of music streaming in from the great hall beyond the doorway, dissonant with the desperation he felt.

  Happy voices could be heard. “What’s that?” Core walked to the doorway of the great hall, Bran by his side. They looked inside, and Core was astounded by what he saw.

  The elders had emerged and had formed a band of a harp, lyre, and lute, playing a jaunty tune. Instead of the bitter ruffians he expected to see, they were eating and drinking with the elders in a friendly sort of way. Dubh was even doing something that might be considered dancing with a plump matron with a wide smile.