Circle of Honor

by Carol Umberger

  “Aye.”

  “Ye were smart not to take the binding vows, Adam.” Angus paused, and a grin lit his features. “Still, we canna fault her wisdom in saving yer life, now can we?”

  “Nay, I’d say not.” He captured his father’s gaze before going on. “But there’s still the matter of her accusing me of rape.”

  Angus sobered. “I can understand yer anger at being falsely accused.”

  “ ’Tis hard to stay angry under the circumstances. I’ve given her my protection and promised to help her reach England. That much I owe, and nothing more.”

  “Aye, the sooner ’tis done, the better, although I doubt that anyone who knows ye believes for a minute ye would force a lass.”

  Reluctantly, Adam nodded. “Aye, the lasses are most willing to marry the laird’s son, even when he has only one working arm.”

  “Yer charms as a man and laird go beyond physical strength, Adam.”

  So, they were back to this argument again. “And that isn’t the most important thing?” Adam wished he could believe his father’s words. “The clan will follow the strongest man.”

  “Nay, Adam, they will follow the man who will fight as hard in battle as he will fight to lead them safely in times of peace. Leod isna that kind of leader, boy. The only ones who stand for him now are those as greedy and power hungry as Leod himself.”

  “But what of a man’s character? Gwenyth has besmirched even that with her accusation.”

  “Those who know ye will know ’twas a false claim.”

  Adam steered the conversation back to Leod. “So, you think ’tis a small group that follows Leod?”

  “Aye, I don’t believe he has near the support ye credit him with.”

  Mustering his patience, Adam asked, “What if you are wrong, and I must fight?”

  “Then ye will fight and win,” Angus said with conviction.

  Adam stifled the urge to leap from his stool. If he allowed his anger to show, Angus would feed off it and they’d be yelling again.

  When Adam felt able to continue, he replied, “Perhaps. But I would rather avoid confrontation. I want no more of my clan’s blood to be shed.”

  “Ah, see. That is just what makes ye a better man than Leod Macpherson will ever be. He doesna think of others, only of himself.”

  But Adam worried that the real reason he wished to avoid bloodshed was his belief that in pitched battle, he would lose, would be shown to be incompetent as a warrior as he had been at Dalry. It wasn’t death he feared so much as being remembered as a weak and tragic figure. No man wanted the bards to sing of him as anything but a mighty hero.

  His father’s misplaced faith frightened him. “I value your opinion of me, Da. But I’m afraid this marriage to a servant with questionable ties to the Comyns gives Leod needed fuel to gain further support.”

  “Perhaps. Ye can send the woman away.”

  “I’ve thought of that, but the vows are binding for a year.”

  “Surely you can come to an agreement—she can leave as long as neither of ye marry within the time.”

  “Aye, I suppose so. But I may not be able to get rid of her as soon as I’d like.” And if she stays too long, I may very well be tempted to change my mind.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because—” Adam caught himself before he answered the wrong question. Gwenyth could not be his wife; duty demanded he seek a wife who would strengthen the federation, not weaken it. Still, he had always been one to protect and help the defenseless, and Adam felt most protective toward the lass.

  Protection or attraction? Was it her beauty or her vulnerability that called to him? Or something more—a core of inner strength and dignity that drew him? Again he wished to have met her under other circumstances, to be free to know her better.

  Aye, he wanted her. Adam shook his head to clear it of that last, dangerous thought. Intimacy was the last thing Gwenyth needed just now. Such thoughts were best kept well hidden for many reasons. Not the least of which was his determination, sealed during his heartfelt discussion with Father Jerard, that he would not lie with Gwenyth or any other woman until God and the church sanctioned the union.

  Hoping his face did not betray his mind’s wanderings, he looked up to see his father studying him carefully.

  Angus spoke softly. “Ye’ve a lot on your mind, boy. And I think the maid is not the least of it. Send her to me.”

  “Nay, father. She is fragile just now. Do not add to her burden.”

  “ ’Tis ye I worry about, son. I admire yer tender heart, ’tis a good thing for a laird to be concerned for those in his care. But ye cannot let it lead ye where ye shouldn’t go. I’ll not be here for much longer—”

  “Nay—”

  He raised his hand, cutting off Adam’s protest. “ ’Tis true and we both know it.”

  Angus assessed Adam, and Adam wondered if he measured up. “Answer me one thing, son. Do ye want to be laird, want it bad enough to fight for it if need be?”

  “ ’Tis my duty and my birthright. I have no choice.”

  “That’s not the answer I want to hear. Do ye want it or no?”

  Adam groaned in defeat. “I don’t know.”

  “When are ye going to forgive yerself for what happened at Dalry? Because Leod Macpherson senses yer lack of confidence, mark my words.” Angus’ voice became more heated as he continued. “ ’Tis why he is pressing ye, and he will continue until ye stand up to him. What I want to know is this. Shall I name another as my successor, or will ye fight?”

  In anguish Adam shouted, “I can’t fight, you stubborn old man!

  I cannot use the shield to protect myself.”

  “Then find a way to fight—train yer men to protect yer weak side. Do something, but don’t just give up without trying!” His voice rose until he, too, was shouting. “Otherwise, ye’re not the son of my loins, but some impostor.”

  Angus had grown red in the face and his breathing became labored. Fearing for his father’s well-being, Adam grabbed his hand. “Da, calm yourself. Please, Da, don’t vex yourself.”

  The door burst open. “What the devil goes on in here?” Eva glared at Adam. “Well? Have ye nothing to say?”

  “He’s angry with me.”

  “I can see that. What have ye done to stir him up?”

  “Eva, leave the boy be,” Angus whispered. His color was again returning to normal, Adam noted with relief.

  No one spoke as Angus, calmer now, dropped Adam’s hand and patted the bed for his wife to sit down. She closed the door and took the seat he offered.

  “Our son has a decision to make,” Angus said. “Adam, for the good of the clan, I must force this upon ye. If ye wish it, I’ll choose another, but we must not linger. I won’t live much longer.”

  Adam’s emotions reeled. He rose and paced. First a forced marriage, now a decision that would affect not only his own future, but the future of his people. Could he be what they needed? Could he win against Leod if it came to a fight? And most importantly, could he live with himself if he gave up without trying?

  He looked at the man in the bed, his once great frame now thin except for the unnatural swelling that spelled his death sentence.

  “Who would you choose, Father? If I say I don’t want to be laird, who would you choose?”

  Adam heard his mother draw in her breath.

  Angus looked at his wife and son, and Adam saw love and pride outshining anger in his father’s eyes. “I will not answer that. I choose ye, Adam. Ye were born and raised to the job. Ye have the moral character and devotion to others that make a good chieftain. If only ye believed it.”

  “But a laird must also be able to lead in battle!” Adam shouted in frustration.

  “And I tell ye that is the least important thing!” his father shouted back.

  “Enough,” Eva said, raising a hand that stopped them both. “I’ve heard enough. Two more stubborn men have never graced this earth.” She turned to her husband. “Ye said he must
make this decision. Then let him. And ye,” she pointed to Adam, “take heed of yer father’s words and share yer thoughts with no one. If Leod finds out what an uproar ye’ve caused, he’ll have just the advantage he needs to make yer decision moot.”

  Adam’s heart was heavy as he acknowledged her words. “You are right, both of you. You needn’t cast about for someone else. I will fight and win, or die trying.”

  He spun on his heel and just as he reached the door, his father called out, “Send the lass to me, Adam.”

  Adam heaved a sigh of resignation. “Aye, Da.”

  ANGUS KNEW, as he and Eva watched their son depart, that she would have her say. She always did, and for that, he was thankful. Eva Macpherson had not been meek as a young maid or at any time in their marriage. If such were not true, he doubted she’d have survived the upheaval their union had caused.

  Eva Macpherson had inherited the chiefship of Clan Chattan from her father and thus transmitted it to her husband and son. The sticking point came when Angus chose to keep his own name, rather than become Macpherson. This did not sit well with her male relatives, for chiefship and name were meant to be inseparable.

  A compromise had been reached whereby each clan kept its respective name and came together as Clan Chattan. But not everyone had agreed with the decision, and his opponents now saw Adam’s weakness as a means to return a Macpherson to the position.

  No sooner had the door closed than she turned to him. “Can ye not speak to the boy without shouting?”

  “He’s no’ a boy, but a man. A mighty stubborn one at that.”

  “Aye, and I wonder where he got that particular trait?” Her smile softened her accusation. “Yer tired, love. Talk with the lass tomorrow.”

  He ignored her. “Ye’ve met her?”

  Eva nodded.

  “What do ye think of her?”

  With a sigh, Eva sat closer and took his hand. “I think she’s been frightfully assaulted and not likely to welcome a man’s touch again in this lifetime.”

  Angus thought about this for a moment. “Judging from the look on Adam’s face when he spoke of her, I’d wager he’s thought about touching her, and more.”

  “ ’Tis just his tender heart.”

  “Perhaps.” For the first time in months, Adam had shown fire and spirit. Had the defenseless woman brought out Adam’s natural inclination to protect and defend? If so, then Angus would fuel that fire and speed his son’s healing.

  “Are ye mad, ye ol’ fool? After Suisan’s rebuff, do ye think he’d take on a damaged woman like this Gwenyth and face rejection again?”

  “Adam is good at healing hurting creatures, is he not? He is drawn to her. Perhaps ’tis time for someone to heal Adam.”

  “You want her to heal him so he can fight Leod.” Eva’s shoulders slumped. “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?”

  “Eva, the boy needs more than to regain his fighting arm. He needs the wholeness that only love and forgiveness can give.”

  She reached for his hand and smiled. “You are right, as usual.”

  Gently he said, “He will still have to fight, my love. Leod has always acted as if the world owed him something. And he believes he has been cheated of his birthright.”

  Eva stood and paced the room before coming to stand next to him. “How can we protect our son?”

  Angus shook his head, knowing the time had come for Adam to stand on his own. He prayed he’d prepared the boy well. “We cannot, my love. He must use his head, heart, and hands to defeat Leod.”

  “How much support does Leod have among the clan?”

  “In numbers, not many. I’ll speak to Ian. I believe the council will approve Adam, despite the lass’s accusation. But so long as Leod lives, Adam’s life is in danger. It only takes one well-placed sword thrust, one man to do the deed.”

  “But surely Leod knows he would forfeit any hope of becoming captain of the federation if he kills his laird.”

  Eva paced again, and Angus longed to pull her to him, to ease her mind and make her forget. Make them both forget the cares of this world in each other’s arms. But those days were gone, and now he had to prepare her, and Adam, to go on without him. The thought pained him, but he pushed it away. He didn’t have time for such maudlin musings.

  “Aye. Who would do Leod’s will to the point of killing our son?”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. And I fear I’ll no’ live long enough to be of any help.” He saw a shadow pass across her face and again it grieved him to remind her of his impending death. “I’ve spoken with Adam and he has taken precautions.”

  “And the girl?”

  “We must wait for Seamus to return.”

  She drew a deep breath. “Will Adam be able to fight, if it comes to that?”

  All the worry of a mother for her child lay open in that question. “Whether he can or not, he’s going to have to.”

  She sat beside Angus once more and took his hand. “If belief alone could win the day, yer son would be able to fly.” She smiled. “Now then. Ye need to rest, and the lass does, too. Talk to her tomorrow.”

  “Nay. I don’t have the luxury of putting things off, Eva.”

  “For her sake, then.”

  He relented. “All right. Tomorrow.”

  Eva kissed his brow. “Goodnight, love.” She stood and walked to the door. “I’ll check on ye before I retire.” She closed it quietly behind her.

  Angus closed his eyes, resting his weary body. The harsh words with his son still rang in his ears, but none so loud as Adam’s anguished cry that he could not fight. Angus refused to believe it. Men far weaker in body and spirit had successfully led this clan in the past. He smiled. Even I.

  With pleasure, Angus thought of his strong, fine son, the only male child of his and Eva’s who had survived to adulthood. Those four small graves in the churchyard still grieved him. Although Adam and his two sisters pleased him, those graves were a reminder that only the strongest in body and will survived the harshness of the highlands.

  Aye, only the very strongest survived.

  ’Twas a grievous shame he couldn’t climb the stairs and learn for himself if his daughter-in-law was a survivor.

  SEVEN

  DARKNESS SURROUNDED HER. Must not fall asleep—stay awake. Nothing to be afraid of, save the rats scurrying through the straw. No light but a pale sliver beneath the door of the damp, fetid chamber. Watch the light; keep your eyes on the light. But the saving light faded as sleep overcame her.

  Now she was warm, lying in a soft bed with gentle voices. Safe.

  Nay, not safe. Never safe.

  A hand came out of the darkness, clamped upon her mouth, and muffled her screams of terror. She heard them, tearing her soul even as he tore her clothing. She fought, twisting her body and tugging at his beard. But he was so strong. Still she struggled, to no avail. She closed her mind to all thought and feeling. Why were the bedclothes coiled? The screams echoed in the small room and then ended abruptly, leaving her weeping.

  “WAKE UP, LASS,” a woman’s voice crooned. “Come, ’tis only a bad dream. Ye are safe.”

  As the nightmare and its terror faded, Gwenyth fearfully opened her eyes to see a woman sitting by her bed. Gwenyth touched the covers, to see if they were real and not straw, to know the dream was truly over. The reality of the warm, soft bed and the sweet-smelling chamber sank in and her sobs quieted.

  She remembered where she was. And how she came to be here. She was not safe. Not here, not anywhere in Scotland, for he might return at any time.

  She raised herself up, eyes gradually focusing on the woman beside her bed. Adam’s mother put a pillow behind Gwenyth’s back, and she sank gratefully into its softness.

  Eva reached to the small table beside her and lifted a bowl. “You should have some broth, lass.”

  Gwenyth stared at the ceiling. “I’m not hungry.”

  “I know, but ye need to eat a bit anyway.”

  Remem
bering the anger on Eva’s face when Adam had explained Gwenyth’s presence, she asked, “Why are you being kind to me?”

  “I cannot turn my back on one of God’s creatures any more than my son can. And I admire a woman who can outfox Leod Macpherson, especially when so doing saves my son’s life.”

  Hearing Leod’s name brought back the dream and Gwenyth recoiled. Leod was the man in the dream, the man in the chamber that night. The shudder became a quaking that would not cease as the images from the dream unfolded yet again.

  Eva stroked her hair. “There now. ’Twas not yer fault, never was it yer fault. Ye must put it behind ye. Yer safe here.”

  Gwenyth didn’t believe any of it. She should have fought harder, screamed louder, gouged out his eyes. She should have done—

  “Nothing ye could do to prevent it, lass,” Eva said, as if reading her thoughts.

  “I want to go home.” Home. She had no home. Robert the Bruce had destroyed it in his retaliatory raids throughout Buchan not six weeks ago. Thankfully, her mother hadn’t lived to see it. Gwenyth didn’t even know if Daron still lived and if so, where he was. The trembling overpowered her yet again, and she despaired of ever being in control of her emotions, let alone her life.

  Eva patted her hand where it lay on the covers. “Pray for strength, child. God will not fail ye.”

  Oh, but he had. She had prayed over and over again but her family was dead, Daron was missing, and her dream of becoming Scotland’s queen was quickly dying. Aye, she thought bitterly, God had turned his back on the Comyns for sure. Since he would not help, she would hide herself far away from emotion, from pain. And from the world that hadn’t protected her. She closed her eyes and sank deeper into the pillow.

  A soothing hand brushed Gwenyth’s hair off her forehead. She opened her eyes. Again Eva offered her the bowl with the admonition to eat. Eat and restore her health or hide and what? Give up? Two years of planning and patiently waiting for Edward to send for her, to finish what Bruce started in Greyfriars Church?

  She would not hide, nor would she cower in fear. Gwenyth accepted the bowl and brought it to her lips, drinking deeply of the rich broth. She was strong, strong enough to do what must be done. She needed no one except Daron. Only her cousin knew her plans, only her cousin would help her. She would find him, with or without God’s help.