by Kara Griffin
“Visit with your brothers and kindly send them on their way.” Rohan shoved Alan out of his way and headed off to the butlery.
“What brings you here? Have you news of home?” Brodin suspected the news wouldn’t be good-natured because his brothers wouldn’t have come so far unless it was dire.
“Och all is well. The fields prospered at harvest so we have plenty of stores to get us through the rest of winter.” Alan tinkered with his cup and avoided glancing at him.
“Aye, and we’ve made vast improvements to the keep. Many of the cottages are newly thatched and protected for the winter’s bluster. We haven’t received word of Da yet. He’s still held in London. I doubt the English king will release the prisoners.”
Brodin nodded for he agreed that it was unlikely any Scots prisoner would be released by the knavish English king’s son. Since King Edward’s death, his son had an abundant of issues to resolve. He was surprised they hadn’t heard of their countrymen’s executions. The new king, Edward the younger, would eventually deal with his father’s wars and thus decide what to do with those captured. He wouldn’t have hope his da would be freed if he even lived through the confinement.
“You’re avoiding speaking of your visit. That tells me there’s something vexing, otherwise, you would’ve come out and said why you’ve come. Speak it.” Brodin waved his hand at Alan, hoping he’d be forthcoming.
“Well now, there is a wee bit of news that … We’ve kept watch on Alexia Sweeten as you asked. For years she was cloistered away at the convent. Nothing of consequence to impart—”
“Good, for I vow that woman’s threats cautioned me. I trusted her not, especially when she swore to see me dead. You had one of the lads keep watch on the convent?”
Alan bobbed his head. “We did. Stayed there for several years and gained employment as a stable lad. He returned a fortnight ago.”
His brows drew together in confusion. “Why would he return? Did something happen to her? I haven’t let my guard down, but there’s no way she could track me here.”
Grifin sniffed and lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry to say the lass escaped the convent. She returned to the village and killed her father. Aye, Sheriff Sweeten was murdered in his bed with an ax to his poor head. His daughter is the only suspect.”
“Damn me. She killed her father. Alexia was furious about being sent to the convent. Why after all these years would she seek her revenge?” Brodin downed the ale in his cup, certain he needed to soothe himself after receiving such dreadful news.
“A woman scorned, she is. She has a dark heart, one filled with hatred. I suppose the lass never gave up her quest to see you dead. Blames ye for her father sending her away. Might be out of her head and a loon. She’s loose now, akin in the forest searching for you. But there’s even more distressing news …”
Brodin didn’t like the tone of his brother’s voice. “What say you, Alan? She doesn’t know where I am, so I’m safe from her attempt.”
Grifin cleared his throat and shot a quick glance at Alan. “I’m afraid she tricked the lad we had watching her. He must’ve overheard us discussing you and gave up your location. She hasn’t been seen since. The lass knows you’re here in Dumfries.”
“Aye, ye best watch your back, for if she is murderous enough to kill her own father, she’d do you in without a thought.”
Brodin sobered at that. “I’ll be cautious. Any word of King Robert? Is he still wintering up north?”
Alan set a hand on his forearm. “Aye, he is for now. We’re to meet up with the soldiers for he wants to retake Perth. Come the spring, I heard tell he’s headed south. He aims to take back the fiefs along the border, below Dumfries. We’ll send word when he’s on the move.”
“My thanks. I understand he made a pact with the Norway king at Inverness before the cold season. Aye, ‘tis good news to gain such an ally.”
“We shall see, won’t we, if the English king provokes us if our ally is agreeable or not?”
Brodin raised a brow at Grifin’s remark. He wasn’t certain the English king cared enough to put Scotland’s matters to rest. For now, they’d be content with whatever battles they might win and whatever lands they might recover.
“I need to return. If you want to reach me …”
“We ken, send word to Rohan. Be safe, Brodin. All in the clan await your return. One day soon, hopefully, you will see our brethren again.”
“It’s what placates me every day.” The fabrication rolled easily off his tongue. He wasn’t certain he wanted to go home, not after such a lengthy absence. Brodin didn’t feel connected to his father’s lands or his clan regardless of his brother’s words. “Before you leave, you’ll help Rohan put the hall in order.” Brodin narrowed his eyes, giving his brother a reprimanding gaze.
“Oh, bother, we only did that to clear the hall so we could meet with you in private. Those that remain are too drunk to know their own names. But you’re right. We’ll help clean up before we leave.” Alan approached Rohan and helped him reset a bench that was knocked over in the tarry.
Grifin lowered his chin and sat back. “I worry this woman will be your end. That’s why I insisted we come in person and tell you the news.”
He firmed his lips at the serious tone of his brother’s words. “Worry not, Grif. She’s a puny woman. What harm could she do me? Besides, where I live, none are privy to its location but Rohan and Friar Hemm.”
“Puny enough to take an ax to her father’s head. Watch your back, brother. Och, I aim to find her first so she doesn’t get to you.”
“Nay, leave her to the wolves in the woods. Don’t bother yourself. I must be going, but I’ll try to get home soon even if it’s for a short visit.”
“I hope you do,” Grifin said and joined Alan in clearing the tables.
Brodin watched his brothers for a moment before retreating out the back exit. The fresh air filled his lungs and abated the stench of the mead hall. His horse whinnied when he pulled his harness, forcing him from the dried patch of old grass he’d found. On his way out of the village, Brodin realized he’d forgotten the wine for women.
He rode into the thick woods and avoided the main lane. As he made progress toward home, he considered his brothers’ uneasiness. When he’d first been sent away to join the Bruce’s service, his brothers were crestfallen. They’d always looked up to him even though both were elder and capable of handling whatever came their way. Alan and Grifin weren’t as strong in body as he, yet they were clever when it came to politics and clan matters. He hadn’t always been a noble source of role model for them, but since he gone away, he’d sent missives and instructions on how to proceed with the soldiers. It was the only way he might look after them.
Now he had to look out for himself. Mayhap a journey was in order. He aimed to find the threat before the perilous woman found him. If Alexia Sweeten wanted him dead, she was certain to find a way or someone to do her bidding.
Chapter Two
Northumberland, England
February 1313
The Buchanan tartan offered not only warmth but a bit of solace. Dallis Buchanan pulled the woven fabric tightly around her shoulders and sniffled. She missed home. For six years, she’d been held against her will. Situated on the main road, a stone’s throw from Scotland, Alnwick Castle was the perfect keep to secure England’s border. It was a monstrosity of a building and nowhere compared to the beauty of her beloved family’s croft in the Highlands of Scotland. Alnwick’s high turrets and walls protected the main keep and buildings within the stone fortification. It also kept those captive who wanted out.
Her patience had worn threadbare. It was time to face her adversary and demand he allow her to leave. Despaired, Dallis would plead with Sir Henry Percy for compassion. Although she likened him to a blackheart, he was a knave who cared not whom he trounced—as long as he achieved his wants.
As she approached his solar, her back stiffened with resolve. She couldn’t back down now when she’d
worked all day to gain the courage to confront him. Dallis didn’t bother to knock. She opened the door and stepped inside. Her eyes roamed the large chamber until they stopped on the man she’d hoped to find within. Only he wasn’t alone. She backed a step and took hold of the door grip, certain she should flee.
“Wait.”
She froze. Her mouth hung open seeing her dear maid Flora nearly naked in Sir Henry’s bed. The poor lass must’ve been forced for Flora detested the man as much as she. Dallis lowered her chin and couldn’t look at them. She wanted to yell her affront at his deed, but now was not the time to show her displeasure. Best she stayed amiable if she might gain her freedom. Sir Percy’s footsteps sounded and he pushed her aside.
“Go, Flora. Be gone. I need to speak with Dallis alone.”
Flora scooped up her frock and ran through the doorway, but not before giving her a guilt-ridden gaze. Dallis would never hold her maid in contempt, especially when it came to a knave like Sir Henry. What he wanted, he usually got and that included women. Yet, he would never have her.
“I wouldn’t consort with your maid if you agreed to my proposition.”
Dallis winced. She would have agreed if doing so saved Flora from his loathsome advances. She couldn’t help but hope to save whomever she could even if it put herself in peril. And since she’d dragged Flora across the lands to this wretched place, she felt responsible for the lass. His proposition was unreasonable and she wouldn’t give it any consideration. Although she commiserated with poor Flora, Dallis had to keep Sir Henry at arms’ distance and from her chamber.
“I wish to be freed. There’s no reason to keep me here any longer.”
Sir Henry strode to his wardrobe and pulled a nightshirt over his body, thankfully hiding his grotesque nakedness from her. Dallis kept her gaze steady on the window casement where the heavy fur kept out the winter chill. She stifled a gag because the chamber smelled odd as if it hadn’t been cleaned in a fortnight. Percy stalked her from across the room.
“Ah but my little bloom, you haven’t kept your part of our arrangement.”
Dallis sighed disbelieving he still held her to their agreement. “I went to the village of Caerlaverock as agreed. I told you I was unable to draw the king’s guard from their lair.”
“Aye, so you did. But if you recall, our agreement was … you would bring me the king’s guard and I, in turn, would allow you and your grandmother safe passage home.”
Dallis fisted her hands at her side. “I wish to see her.”
“When you do my bidding I might be amiable to allow a short visit.”
She’d hoped the vile man would give a care for her aged grandmother. What had she expected, that he would treat her with respect, kindness, empathy? Instead, he placed her gran in the dungeon and there she would remain until she completed the task. Her heart hurt envisioning the dear aged woman in such drab, cold quarters.
Dallis failed once to bring the king’s guard to him, and her chest tightened at the thought of trying again. If not for her gran, Dallis would’ve absconded with haste to Buchanan lands. It would’ve taken weeks to get home on foot and her grandmother would’ve likely been killed before she might have sent someone to save her. She wouldn’t leave her sweet grandmother in the hands of that villainous blighter.
“You returned empty-handed. Not one of the king’s guard in sight. Bring them or you will stay here, as will your grandmother.”
She turned and found him standing nearby. His face scowled in obvious displeasure. The man was near two scores and not handsome in the slightest. His hair disheveled, his beard untended. The man’s nightshirt untidy but he wasn’t known for his cleanliness. Sir Henry Percy was more of warfare and abducting wee lassies and old women from the border to do his ill-bidding. The man wasn’t one with a kind heart, but one who preyed on those who would secure his position with the new king, the young Edward.
He was a war-hardened soldier, one of the elder King Edward’s favored commanders. With King Edward’s death, Sir Henry’s favor waned. Edward’s son wasn’t fond of any of his father’s vassals. Now England was disarrayed, and she was caught in Percy’s plot to further his position with the new king.
Dallis turned away and pretended to warm her hands in the small hearth. “You sent me on an impossible errand. Why can you not send your soldiers to apprehend them? I am but a mere woman.”
Percy’s chuckle sounded behind her. “I will not risk my men on such a foolish mission. Besides, a mere woman has more power than she might deem. Aye, a beautiful woman who shall captivate the guard and have them do her will.”
“Sir, you give me too much praise for I doubt that.” Dallis lowered her chin, dejected.
“You were bid to do a duty and have failed. I must bring the king’s guard either captive or dead to his majesty if I’m to win his trust and favor,” his words spoken in a hushed tone.
“England’s politics do not concern me.” Dallis had only come to the land of their enemy for her gran’s sake. Lady Buchanan wanted to pay her respects to her dead brother, King Edward. With none to restrict her, Dallis promised her gran she would see her brother one last time. Getting into England had been easy, it was the leaving that thwarted them.
On their return to Scotland, Percy apprehended them and they’d been imprisoned in his keep since. His soldiers outnumbered the handful of Buchanan men she’d brought as an escort. Dallis was forlorn at what had happened to the poor men. They certainly didn’t end as she had, ensconced within the knave’s keep. Likely they were killed. The thought of their deaths because of their protection of her and her gran sat mournfully in her chest.
“Nay, but your grandmother does matter, does she not?”
Dallis sighed. “You know she does. I was unable to find the guard. I fear with winter’s effects most have gone to ground. I waited almost three months in that village and heard not one word before … when I last went … Are you certain your spies deem them close?”
Percy fisted his hands. “My men keep watch at the abbey nearby and say rumors spread of the guard’s deeds. They must be there, in the area.”
She spoke softly, holding her hands out to the flame, still chilled. “None would claim to know of them or them being in the area. The mead hall owner told me to await if I wished, but he said not if he knew of them or where I might find them.”
“How unfortunate for you.” Percy mocked her with a pout and turned to leave but must’ve changed his mind, and returned to her side. He stepped nearer, close enough to touch her.
Dallis tried to get out of his reach by moving closer to the fire. Flames flickered and heated her skin and she feared she might set herself aflame as close as she stood. The awful English garb he forced her to wear would ignite and she along with it. Stepping back, she bumped into him. She suspected he was ireful at her incompetence, and that he would strike her as he was wont to do when he was angry.
He’d gained her compliance in the search for the king’s guard, but she’d never be biddable in the way he’d hoped. He’d offered her comforts and indulgences if she shared his bed. That was the last place she’d ever agree to spend a night even if it meant her security. She scrunched her eyes in abhorrence when his hairy knuckles caressed her cheek.
Percy’s breath headed her face for he stood too close. “My bloom, I must bring them to justice. If Scotland’s king doesn’t have his renowned guard protecting him, then he might not prevail when we take to the battlefield again. My sovereign demands it and I aim to have it so.”
She curtseyed and lowered her gaze. Her voice cracked and the emotion of her situation thickened her throat, “My lord, I do not know where they are. Will you not have mercy? My grandmother is aged. She has not many years remaining. I need to get her home to Buchanan land. You promised we’d be freed if I took the journey for you which I have.”
“Ah, but you didn’t succeed, little bloom.” He gripped her neck and yanked her forward. “God Above, I wouldst look upon you and be content for a
ll my days. You remind me of a dark crimson rose, vibrant with spirit. Yet you have the resolve of its thorns. Your beauty evokes an unchivalrous manner of me. Will ye not reconsider my offer?” His hand trailed the length of her arm.
Fortunately, her tartan kept him from touching her skin. “You are married, my lord, and I will not lie with you. I told ye—”
He pressed his body closer, and his hand stopped on her shoulder, squeezing. “I shall release your grandmother if you do as you’re told. My dungeons are formidable. Unless you want to perish there as well and never see your beloved homeland again, I suggest you keep your word and return to Dumfries. Return not until you’ve found the guard and bring them here.”
“’Tis winter, my lord, and there’s no one about to ask. Even if I were to find them, how do you propose I gain their escort here?”
“You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. I’m certain you’ll think of something. Use your wiles, girl, do whatever it takes. If you won’t give your body to me, you might consider offering yourself for the wellbeing of your dear grandmother.” He flung her away. “You will return to that village when the weather turns. You will find the guard, and you’ll have them come to me, one way or another.”
“May I see my gran? I should like to stay with her … until I leave. I worry for her.”
He waved a hand. “Go. It matters not to me, but you will leave posthaste and get the deed done. Enjoy what time you have with her, because I shall send you away soon, and ye shan’t return until you have the guard in tow.”
Dallis rushed from the hall and took the steps below. Her breath came quick and hard at being in Percy’s presence. By her faith, at least he didn’t force her to his will. There was somewhat of nobility about him, if very little. Through the corridors and down the two flights of steps, she ran and stopped at the posted guard. “Is my grandmother within? I am given leave to stay with her.”