by Kara Griffin
Brodin growled low in his throat. “I offered to gain his accord, but you resisted my plan. We should have James set a meeting with Robert. We will tell him all, let him judge us and if he is forgiving, we can return home.”
“But if he is not forgiving, our lives ended. Och, I am wanting this over regardless of the king’s decision. We’re not living; we’re wafting in misery here.”
Brodin glanced at Liam and nodded. “If the king executes us, so be it. Are we all in agreement?” His comrades nodded, except Graeme. “I will go to the village and find a lad to take a message to James to set the meeting.”
“I say this is a foolish venture, but go and don’t be long,” Graeme said.
“I’ll return on the morrow.” Brodin picked his sword up from where Liam tossed it. He took no time to pull on a tunic, grab a few more weapons, and readied his horse.
Along the trail to Carvenlock’s village, Brodin considered the conversation he’d had with his comrades. James Douglas had been their only ally in the years they’d been in exile and their only connection to the Bruce. Last they heard King Robert invaded northern England with a band of men, James’ barbarian followers most likely. Surely the king returned to Scotland by now.
Hopefully, he could find James and relate their request of a meeting. Rohan might know where to find James, but he could also send a lad to Friar Hemm. Hemm always kept abreast of the king’s movements and he’d be able to get a message to James.
Brodin wanted to go to Sweetheart Abbey and speak with the friar, but with the English still holding upon the grounds, there was naught he could do but keep his distance. The fact that the English stayed on, for many months now, baffled him. Surely they had a lord they served. Why would they stay at the abbey for such a long period of time?
The village bustled with people in the late afternoon and drew those who purchased wares and of those who sold them. He tethered his horse behind the mead hall and slunk through the back entrance.
A lad held a long ladle at his lips, sneaking a wee bit of ale. Brodin chuckled when he hastily dropped the spoon and backed a step. “S-sir … I wasn’t … stealing …”
“I won’t tell your secret. Get Rohan.”
The lad ran off and Brodin leaned against the table and folded his arms in wait.
A commotion came from the main hall and shouts from Rohan breaking up a brawl. Many men often fought over insignificant matters of late. The fracas ended in short time and a moment later, his comrade appeared.
The stout man grinned and fingered his bushy beard. “Och, ‘tis you, Brodin. My lad told me someone awaited.”
“What was the scuffle about?” He found the idea of fighting within the hall appealing, for it would relieve him of his frustration. That being he hadn’t used his sword or any fighting tactic in months, short of training with the king’s guard.
Rohan laughed. “Nothing of import. If I’d known ye were here, I would’ve let ye tend to the men. But aye, I tossed them right quick out the front door. I’m gladdened you came for I was about to send for—”
“I need to find James Douglas. Have you seen him? Has he been in the village?”
His comrade took the ladle from the ale barrel and set it aside. “I haven’t seen James for many a month. Last I heard, he and the king’s rebels headed south to England. I don’t deem they’ve returned for many of the soldiers partake here and I’ve seen nary a soul of them.”
Brodin breathed a frustrated sigh. “I’ll need you to send one of your lads to Friar Hemm with a message.”
Rohan nodded. “I’ll get one of my lads.” He went to the door that led to the large mead hall, whistled a shrill sound, and motioned to someone. At once the tall lad, Jimmy, appeared. “Jimmy’ll take your message and is trustworthy.”
Brodin found a piece of parchment and hastily wrote, asking for James to come to them. James knew where they resided and had visited them on many occasion, some not so favorable events. Once he came, the course would be set to end their banishment. Brodin handed the missive to the lad. “This is for Friar Hemm’s eyes only. Be quick about it. I’ll await here in case he has a reply.”
Jimmy nodded and took the parchment and set out the back entrance.
“Now that that business is done, I need to tell you …” Rohan turned and fiddled with a wooden tray. “I was going to send for you.”
“What is it?” Brodin dunked a cup in the ale barrel and drank. “Rohan? What’s bothering you? It isn’t like ye to be evasive.”
“The lass … ah, the woman what came long ago seeking the guard, she’s here again and bid me send for you. She says she’s your betrothed.” Rohan snickered but sobered a moment later.
Brodin pulled away from the table and chortled in disbelief. “My betrothed? She’s here? When did she return?” He suspected Alexia Sweeten would one day come for him, and now that he’d face her, he was unsure what he’d do. His vengeance had dissipated and he no longer hated her. Yet he needed to act with caution for she certainly retained her hatred given what his brothers bespoke.
“Came three days past. She is truly a beauty to behold. I had to put the lass in my quarters for there were two brawls over her and my lads got no work done–not with her regal presence. I wish you’d see to her for I cannot have the lass here. She seems troubled for I seen it in her eyes. Is she really your betrothed? If she is, I’d say ye were a fortunate man.”
Brodin laughed. “Fortunate, my arse, I’d say I am doomed. Sounds like she’s caused you grief. Nay, I’m betrothed to no one. She speaks falsely. Last she was here she was looking for the king’s guard. Has she said what she wants of us?” His suspicions that Alexia had found him were accountable, yet she didn’t know he was one of the king’s guard. Why would she ask for them if she only sought him? And now with her return, she purposely lied about their betrothal.
Rohan shook his head. “I thought the woman English, for she’s garbed richly as if she’s attending the king’s court. But glory be, the lass’ speech is as bonny as a Scottish fairy’s. If ye want to see her, she’s in my chamber above. Take the back stairs.”
He finished his ale and set the cup on the table. “I will find out what she wants. If the lad returns …”
“I’ll see to Jimmy and get the friar’s reply. Ye might want to prepare yourself.” Rohan cackled and turned to set the lid on the ale barrel.
Brodin scoffed. “I’m not going to be affected by her. Obviously, she’s bewitched you.”
“Oh, she has indeed. And I vow you’ll be besotted by her as well. Ye might want to wait a wee bit because my lads just took water—” Rohan bellowed in laughter as he left him rambling to himself.
Brodin wasn’t about to wait. He hurried outside and took the wooden stairs to Rohan’s living quarters above. With cautious steps, he guarded himself against attack. Alexia’s wrath warranted his vigilance. He reached the door and decided against knocking. Using his foot, he forced the door open and stood in the center.
A gasp came and a woman stood with her back to him. All he envisioned was her naked backside. When she turned, he all but lost his breath. She stood defiantly in a tub full of water, arms at her side, in full view of him. That is until she shrieked and hastily grabbed a covering. Brodin was affected all right, and if he didn’t feel his blood rushing to nether parts of his body, he’d sworn he might have been done in.
“Have you no chivalry? A man of morals would avert his eyes.”
She commanded him in the most alluring voice, yet she sounded somewhat authoritative. He wanted to laugh outright but kept himself from doing so. “Aye? A woman of morals would hide herself from a man’s eyes.”
“You are trespassing here. It is you who should turn away. You dare insult me by standing there gawking?” The affront in her eyes was blatant with her glare and the firm grip she had on the cover wrapped around her naked body.
Brodin thought her a mite courageous, perhaps a bit prideful. He raked his eyes over her again, ensuring himself the
re was no threat. A jest that because there was only one reason he wouldn’t avert his eyes. She was incredibly bonny and definitely not Alexia. “I dare whatever I like. Who are you and what do you want of the king’s guard?”
She stepped out of the tub and into a dusty beam of light. Brodin couldn’t get a good view of her, but he wouldn’t move from the door until he discerned there was no danger.
“It’s about time you came. I waited for you … before for months and I could only return now. Why did you not come when I first sent for you?” She sounded irritated and properly scolded him.
Brodin kept his stance in the doorway. “I do no bidding for anyone. Answer my question, lass. I’ll have a name and why you seek the king’s guard.”
“I am seeking Brodin Grant of the king’s guard. Where might I find him?”
He raised a brow when she stepped forward and stopped a foot from him. The woman pulled a gown over her body, unfortunately hiding her gloriousness from him. If he wasn’t on guard, he might be besotted. She had a fearlessness about her. And lord, she was something to behold. He’d never seen her before of that he was certain because he would never forget such beauty.
Her dark tresses cascaded in a dripping mass down her back. The dark, scrutinizing depths of her eyes didn’t cower from his stare. Her face was bonny with rich-brown eyes and deeply flushed lips. The woman slightly resembled Alexia in coloring, but she was definitely not the harridan from his past. She met his gaze and kept it. Brodin didn’t want the moment to end, but when she reached inside her bodice, he grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked her against him.
“Are you here to kill me?”
She gasped and shook her head.
“Why do you say you’re my betrothed? I am not promised to any woman.” He wasn’t one to trust anyone, be they man or woman. She reached for something, likely a dagger which she’d assuredly pierce his heart. Yet the lass needed no dagger to pierce his heart given his reaction to her. He hadn’t felt the restlessness or the rush of his blood in a good long time. His heart drummed ferociously, but he wasn’t certain why.
“You’re he? Brodin Grant?”
He quickly searched her for weapons but felt none within her garments. What he found was a curvaceous woman, one that verily affected him. His breath quickened and he discerned he needed to calm the hell down.
He released her and she stepped backward. “I am Brodin. Why do you seek me? Has Alexia sent you to do her dark deed—” He couldn’t take his gaze from hers. She’d captivated him with her alluring eyes. The woman stood straight, her shoulders back, unwavering even though she had to be somewhat afraid. He intimidated most with just a glare. She showed it not and he was impressed by her courage.
She pressed her hand on her bodice and pulled out a medallion, one he’d made. He recognized the wooden pendant instantly, discerning the Bruce’s crest he’d etched on the front. Brodin had made one for each of his closest consorts in case they ever needed aid. All they had to do was send it to Friar Hemm who would inform his comrades. It was their way of sending for help without divulging who requested it or why. None could be too careful given they were wanted men.
The lass pressed the pendant in his hand and closed his fist around the wooden object. Her gentle touch stunned him. Brodin yanked his hand away and briefly averted his eyes. He turned the pendant over and scrutinized the name etched on the back and returned his gaze to her.
“I know not of any Alexia. I was told to give you this.”
“Where did you get this?”
“A lad called Gilroy gave it to me and bid me to—”
He gripped her arm. “What have you done with him?”
She raised her brows and then scowled. “I’ve done nothing—”
“Are you his mother?” God, he hoped not.
“Nay. He’s a wee bit old to be my child. I came across him in England.”
Brodin glowered. Gilroy was in England? How in God’s grace did he end up there? A hundred questions came to him at once, but he asked the most important. “Is he harmed?”
“When I last saw him he was hurt, but he still lived. I fear not for long. Brodin, if you will give me time to explain—”
“Why don’t you begin with your name?” He gripped her upper arms to keep her from fleeing. She knew where Gilroy was. What troubled him was her fear of the lad not living long. Who had him and why would they want to kill the lad?
“I am Dallis of Clan Buchanan.”
Brodin fingered the embellished sleeve of her gown. “Why are you garbed in English attire? No Scottish lass would be caught dead in such garments.”
“If it will please you, I shall remove the gown.”
Brodin found his first smile. “Aye, it will please me very much. I detest all things English. Remove it. And then you’ll tell me why a Buchanan lass was in England, how you found Gilroy, and why you sought me.”
What she did next surprised him. His breath ceased and he kept his scowl fixed for the lass was brazen. He wanted to smile for an aura of pleasantness swept over him.
She turned to face away from him, pulled the heavy gown over her head and flung it to the floor. “Are you happy now?”
“I’m getting there.” Brodin roamed his eyes over her lovely body. The lass was undeniably beautiful. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her –kiss her until morn. Instead, he took a calming breath and settled himself. “I’ve many questions—”
“I’m certain you do.” She wrapped herself in a great length of tartan and turned to face him. “You need to be patient.”
Her voice was bonny, like the softest breeze blowing through a meadow. Brodin shook his head, disturbed by his inane thoughts and his reaction to her. “No one tells me to be patient. I want answers and I’m unwilling to wait for them. And if ye want to keep breath in that bonny throat, you best start talking.”
She stepped forward. “You don’t frighten me. I’ve dealt with worse sorts than you, most recently I might add. I need you to rescue my grandmother.”
Tears came to Brodin’s eyes for he’d never laughed so hard in his entire life. “Your grandmother? What of Gilroy?”
“Oh, him too, and of course my maid Flora. You see, I was abducted by Sir Henry Percy of Alnwick. He will not release my grandmother or my maid. I don’t know why Gilroy was there, but surely you wish to rescue the poor lad.”
Brodin raised a brow. “I do wish it. So in order to draw me out, you told Rohan that I was your betrothed?”
“That is correct. The last time I came, no one would own to knowing the king’s guard. I had to … speak a wee lie if I was going to get you to come. And I see it has worked.”
“Our fee for such a mission is hefty. Have you coin to pay?” Brodin stood with his legs braced, his arms relaxed by his side. The woman flustered. She fumbled her hands and averted her eyes. He found it ironic that she’d stand up to him and yet grow uncomfortable over the haggle of payment. “You have no coin with which to pay?”
“None. Sir Percy took all our belongings. I’ve no coin. Since you are intent to rescue your friend … Gilroy … I ask that you save my grandmother and maid. You will have my eternal gratitude.”
Brodin chuckled. “I am not in need of gratitude, but what you speak is true. I shall retrieve Gilroy from this Percy and if I’m inclined, I will rescue your grandmother and your maid.”
“We need to leave at the soonest. I must dress in the English garb for Percy took all my garments and bid me to dress as an English lady. You will have to bear it.” She retrieved the discarded gown and hastily pulled it over her body.
A giant boulder couldn’t have knocked him over for as still as he stood, watching her. He almost groaned when the fabric slid over the firmness of her breasts. “You will await me here until I can fetch my comrades.” Brodin turned to leave, but she stopped him with a grip of his forearm. He swiveled on his foot and took hold of her waist.
“There’s no time. Please, we must leave now and travel with haste.�
�� She stepped from his embrace and turned to collect the discarded covering.
The urgency in her voice caused him to consider her request. He didn’t think it wise to travel with the woman alone to an unknown location. “Where is this place we’re going?”
“Alnwick, by the English border in Northumberland.”
“Meet me at the back of the mead hall in five minutes.” Brodin left her and returned to the storeroom behind the hall. He motioned to Rohan in the great room.
“That was a quick visit.” Rohan bellowed. “I didn’t expect to see ye until sunrise.”
“We’re leaving at once. Send one of your lads to Graeme with this.” He tossed the medallion to him. “It’s Gilroy’s. I’ve found him. Relate that I’ve gone to fetch him at Alnwick in Northumberland. I’ll return as quickly as I can.”
“Aye, I’ll send someone right away. Look after your arse, Brodin.”
He nodded and set off to meet the lass. A good ten minutes passed before she ambled down the back stairs. She thrust her satchel at him and hefted herself upon his horse. In all his life, Brodin was never at a loss for words, but at that moment, he didn’t know what to say. He fastened her bag to the horse and mounted. The sun was at their backs as the progressed easterly toward the border.
“It shall take at least two days to reach Alnwick if you travel fast.”
“Fast is the only way I ride.” He kicked his horse’s haunches and headed south. Two days in her glorious company. Yet Brodin focused on the ride and the fact that he would face an adversary when they arrived. He was all for fighting and lived to use his sword arm. With so many at risk though, he needed a plan of attack. He had to set his mind on how to infiltrate the castle without being noticed – not be captivated by the lovely lass sitting before him.
Brodin tried to keep a few inches of space between him and Dallis, but the woman kept leaning against him. He finally gave up his gallantry and settled his arms around her waist. She spoke little on their journey, and yet he sensed uneasiness about her.