by Kara Griffin
Brodin would come and save her, too. He just had to.
And if he didn’t come, she’d be faced to accept defeat. She pressed her lips together in objection to that thought, but she’d gather strength from somewhere within. Her bairn needed her to be strong, to survive. Yet the realization of losing Brodin made her want to weep with extreme sorrow.
“There you are.” Gran approached and sat next to her.
Dallis faced her. “I wanted to tell you of my bairn.”
Her Gran’s eyes scrunched and a smile lit her face. “I know, my dear. Your man needs to come to you. Will he?”
She didn’t know how to answer that. “Mayhap he will.”
“I was afraid it would come to this … Brodin Grant does love ye though. I saw the look in his eyes. He will come.”
“I hope you are right, Gran. I really do.”
“You have me until he comes. We shall take care of ye.”
Dallis sat with Gran for the rest of the afternoon by the tree. It was comforting to have her near. Gran didn’t have to say more for Dallis realized she had accepted Brodin. Her acceptance meant a great deal to her. Hearing her words helped to settle her somewhat. Gran believed Brodin would return and that gave her the faith to believe it so.
Chapter Twenty-Five
For nearly two weeks the Buchanans besieged Alnwick. Brodin berated Maurice about his plan, but the hardheaded man wouldn’t listen. Brodin’s idea of retribution was a far cry from his associates. He would’ve stormed the castle, found Percy and let his sword seek its justice. He’d thought the Buchanans had guile, but nay. They insisted on surveying the castle to study the goings-on, who came, who went. It was a complete waste of time.
“Why ye be so surly?” John asked from the other side of the fire.
They were far from the castle’s walls, enough that its sentry wouldn’t spot the light from their fire. He tossed rocks in the flames for lack of anything of interest to do … but sit … and wait …
Four men set out to relieve the post that kept watch on the gate and returned with their report. A large Buchanan spoke quietly near Maurice and headed off to take his rest.
“I’m not surly. I thought we came here to make Percy pay and not to sit as pretty as ye please in his damned woods.” Brodin grew testy the longer they delayed.
Allan hooted. “Someone is too surly.”
“Cease your gripes. We will go when I say and not a moment before,” Maurice said.
“What in God’s name are you waiting for? A summons from Sir Percy himself?”
Maurice leaned forward and glared. “You’re a pain in my arse, Grant. Aye, your heart seeks retribution and overrides any good sense. Before I go running in there, I want to ken who is there. How many foes we will face? It is best to be cautious when entering a place we’ve never been before.” He left the group and grumbled about relieving himself in yonder woods.
Brodin reached for the small vile of oils he had mixed with the cooled soot nearby. Once he covered his face, he left the fire and ambled toward the castle. He caught up to the watch and stood with them. “Has anyone come or gone?”
They shook their heads. The men stood watch and jested with each other, not taking to task their watchfulness.
Brodin reasoned Maurice’s words. In a way, the man made sense. After all, when Brodin had last come, he walked into a trap. He hadn’t taken time to survey his enemy, but then he’d hadn’t really been given time since he was ambushed.
“Caution be damned.” He left the woods and crept along the wall. Dusk dimmed the turrets and gave a shadowed cover. He scaled the wall and noticed the lone watchman slumbering near the doorway that led into the castle. As much as he wanted to subdue the man, he didn’t want to raise an alarm. He stepped quietly around him and opened the door. A small creek groaned. He held his breath but kept his dagger at the ready. The watchman continued to sleep.
Inside a corridor, he slunk forward and found a stairwell. Taking the steps, he crept down with light feet. It was quiet within, too still for his liking. Near the bottom of the landing, he heard the servants bustling about the main hall.
“Sir Percy wants his supper served in his solar. Take the trencher and be quick about it.”
Brodin shifted back into a recess in the wall and waited for the lad to pass. He followed and had to hide twice more before the lad reached the stairs to the upper solar. The lad had not a care but delivering his lord’s supper. He didn’t look back once.
With the tray balanced on his hip, he knocked and disappeared inside the chamber. The lad reappeared within seconds and bounded down the hallway.
Brodin seized the opportunity and grabbed the lad. He covered his mouth and pulled him into the corner. “Who is in there with him?”
The lad’s eyes widened and he shook his head.
“Is he alone?”
The lad nodded.
Brodin shoved the lad away but quickly used his fist to subdue him. The lad lay flat out at his feet. He’d be unconscious for a while, at least long enough time to confront Percy.
He ran to the door and entered. Before he’d approach his enemy, Brodin shoved the thick wooden beam into its cradle and secured the chamber. His foe wouldn’t escape the chamber before he’d confront him.
Percy stood. He knocked the table he sat at forward and dumped his goblet, spilling the liquid over the edge. “You.” He slunk backward and caught the edge of his nightrail on the short poster of his bed.
“I’ve come for repayment.”
His eyes darted around the chamber. “I seek no harm against you. My king is defeated. I want no trouble.”
“Nay? But I do.”
Noise and clamor arose from below. The Buchanans. Brodin had to hurry before they arrived. No one was taking justice from him, not even the wily Buchanans.
He stepped forward. “Ah, that will be the Buchanans coming for you.”
“What say you?” Percy tripped on a carpet next to the bed but righted himself.
Brodin continued his advance, slow and measured. “Did you think you could keep their grandmother and sister captive without repayment?”
“I … I … No. Go and leave me be. I will deal with them.” His eyes shot to his sword across the chamber.
Brodin stepped sideways and blocked his view of the weapon. “You shall deal with me. As much as I’d like to let the Buchanans tear you limb from limb, I have my own justice to inflict.”
“I did nothing—”
“You tortured me and threatened to send my head to your king. I’d say that warrants a wee bit of justice from me.”
“I … I—”
“You tortured and killed my squire. That alone would instigate my sword.” Brodin nearly reached him. He gripped the pommel of his sword and tensed.
Percy retreated a few steps, but the wall was closing in and soon he would have no choice but to challenge him. “You’re a man of war. You understand I was doing my duty. How can I repay the wrong I did to you? I have coins, jewels, riches …”
Brodin advanced and positioned his sword’s blade. Banging sounded on the door and shouts came from the Buchanans.
“I can give you riches, anything. Just let me go.”
“Nay, it is too late for that. You will go to hell for the wrath you inflicted on innocents.”
“Kill me then. I’m sickened with an ailment and don’t have much time left as it is. I’ll meet my maker this day and will own to my sins to Him. Do it.”
He forced his arm forward and stuck the man true in his gut. Before he stepped back, Brodin thrust as hard as he could, ensuring his justice was inflicted.
Percy’s eyes widened. He fell back against the wall. His hands gripped the sharp edge of the sword and tried to yank it free.
“Your maker will never hear your sins. Punishment will be inflicted for the devil will relish your soul.”
Percy fell to the floor. He existed no more.
Brodin yanked his sword free and hastened to unbar the door
. The Buchanans rushed inside. Maurice stopped next to Percy’s body and gave him a reproachful look. “You couldn’t wait for us?”
“Nay.”
“You took justice from me?” Maurice approached him and shoved his chest.
Brodin didn’t retaliate. He knew what it felt like to want retribution and not attain it. “I took justice for myself, for my squire, for Dallis, for your Grandmother.”
John called their attention. “We’re going to have to fight our way out of here.” The alarm sounded and shouts neared.
“Well, at least there’s that,” Maurice said.
On the path to Buchanan land, Brodin followed the large group of men. Maurice didn’t object to his traveling with them. He needed to get to Dallis before her brother did.
Maurice taunted him with Dallis’ impending marriage. Too many times Brodin wanted to shove his fist in his face.
“I will ask the lass and if she accepts me, you will agree.”
“And if I don’t, Grant?”
Brodin smiled. “Well now, you ken my good comrade Sir James? He owes me a debt. Mayhap I’ll send him to your fief. Aye, he’ll need somewhere to winter and I hear Buchanan land is beautiful in winter. His barbarians aren’t too difficult to deal with as long as you triple your winter stores …”
Maurice’s face reddened. “God Almighty, ye won’t send them.”
“I will unless you allow Dallis to decide for herself if she will have me. If she rejects me then I shall go on my way without any trouble.” But Brodin knew how much Dallis cared for him. She would accept him, he had no doubt.
“Agreed. As long as you don’t send the Black Douglas and his men to our lands. We barely have enough stores to see us through winter, let alone those … brutes.”
Brodin grinned and thought his subterfuge brilliant. On the pass to Carvenlock, he considered stopping at Sweetheart Abbey. Friar Hemm would have the latest news and if there was any turmoil in the Highlands. Yet Maurice seemed to be in a rush. And he wouldn’t let the Buchanans continue on without him.
The Buchanans rode harder the closer they got to home. Brodin relished the thought of seeing Dallis again. It would be a great surprise for she likely thought him dead.
On the approach to the incline that led to the Buchanan home, several men trailed off. By the time they reached the dirt lane that stretched before their croft, only the brothers remained.
Brodin dismounted and followed Maurice and his brothers inside their croft.
Maurice bellowed Dallis’ name. “Go and see if she’s in her chamber.”
Allen left but returned hastily. “She’s not there. Mayhap she went to visit the women.”
John shook his head. “Nay. There’s a message here.” He lifted the missive sitting on the massive table’s center. He read it aloud:
Brothers,
I decided not to stay. My life is no longer here. I will not accept your choice of husband. Be well, Dallis.
Maurice pounded the table. “Where did the lass go? I vow she’s more stubborn than any Buchanan alive.”
John hunched his shoulders. “She doesn’t say. We’ll find her.”
Maurice bellowed. “We shall not. If the lass wants to return home, she shall. We won’t worry for her or waste time searching for her. Besides, she is no longer a Buchanan or our problem. She’s the Grant’s problem.”
Brodin inclined his head to each of the brothers. “Until we meet again.”
“Not bloody likely,” Maurice shouted. “And don’t be telling anyone we’re family. I shall not own to being related to a Grant.”
He almost smiled at that because who would ever own to being related to a Buchanan? Brodin left the cottage and tried to reason where Dallis would go. He didn’t recall her ever speaking of a place she held dear. One way or another he’d find her.
The admission of defeat sat wearily in Brodin’s chest. He searched everywhere he could think of for Dallis, but to no avail. With nowhere else to go, Brodin rode toward home. Grant land above the south-eastern shore of Loch Ness. He stopped at the great waters to rest and gazed out at the beauty of the land and loch. He’d forgotten how enchanting his homeland was.
Near the spot where he’d been ambushed on that fateful day so long ago, he reflected on his years of service to the Bruce, his relationship with his comrades, how he’d changed since he’d met Dallis. A strange thought came for had it not been for Alexia’s deceitfulness, he wouldn’t have met Graeme, Liam, Heath or their wives. He wouldn’t have met Dallis.
Not that he was grateful to be the target of the harridan, but her actions led him to his destiny. He certainly wasn’t destined to wed Alexia. Brodin couldn’t imagine what his life would be like had he stayed and married her.
Now if only he might find Dallis, he could begin the life he envisioned all those years before. Brodin wanted a wife, children, and a home. He wanted to wake each morn next to Dallis and see her face last when he sought his slumber. He wanted what his comrades had: family.
Where the hell are you, lass?
Brodin left the wooded area of the loch and walked through the village adjacent to his father’s lands. Little had changed. The same huts occupied the main lane, yet there were a few additions that spread the town a wee bit wider than it had once been.
He didn’t recognize anyone and reasoned many of the villagers probably passed on or left the area. None of the villagers recognized him.
Brodin picked up his pace when he reached the lane leading to the main keep. He spotted the smoke from the vent atop the trees. Once through, he stopped and allowed a minute of nostalgia ease his heart.
Alan whistled a shrill sound and called all Grants to the keep. He practically knocked him down in his hast to welcome him home. “You’re back.”
Brodin didn’t acknowledge his brother’s statement but shifted his regard to Grifin.
Griffin clapped his hand and yanked him forward for a bear hug. “’Tis gladdened I am to finally have you home.”
“It is good to see you both.”
“Look yonder at your clan.” Grifin waved a hand at the crowd.
Brodin turned and realized a hundred people stood and watched his homecoming. He was astounded at their gazes and smiling faces. They chanted stand fast, stand sure, over and over. For years Brodin considered many of his clansmen had forgotten him. It seemed they well remembered who he was.
“You forget, Brodin, you’re the son of their laird. Of course, they would welcome you home with open arms. They’ve awaited you since the day you left. Welcome home.” Grifin bear-hugged him and bid him to enter their home.
Brodin tossed a wave to the crowd and inclined his head. He was humbled by their show of respect. Their home was quite different from what he remembered of it. It appeared more spacious. His brothers must’ve worked hard to achieve such grandeur.
Grifin poured him a drink and handed him the cup. “Sit and tell us of your travels. I saw you at Bannock with the Douglas clan.”
“Aye, I didn’t have time to come and greet you. The king wanted our attendance and then the war started …”
His brother grinned. “We understand King Robert has fully pardoned you. What took you so long in coming? You are staying, are you not?”
He shot his gaze to Alan. “There was a good amount of tasks to see to before I could leave. The king hadn’t yet pardoned us after the battle. We waited for nearly a sennight for his leave. I am sorry to say that I cannot stay.”
“You’re not staying?” Grif asked dejectedly.
“I must find her,” he said, more or less to himself.
Grifin hooted. “Och, her. You are speaking of the woman you rescued in the village. I never beheld such a bonny woman or got a chance to meet her.”
Brodin nodded. “Dallis Buchanan. She was shaken at the time. I intend to marry the woman once I find her.”
Alan grinned. “’Tis joyous news then. Why is the lass missing?”
He hastily explained the events that led him
home. “Och, Scotland is not that big. I will find her. I want to return home, but not without Dallis.”
“Of course, we understand. You’re welcome any time. We do want you to return, but it is your decision. You belong here, Brodin, always have.”
Brodin set a hand on his brother’s shoulder, silently thanking him for his support. Alan wasn’t usually as agreeable, but he seemed to accept his decision.
Grifin chuckled. “At least rest and fill your stomach before you set out again. We’ll tell you the latest news.”
Alan nodded. “Aye, and you can meet our wives and children. I vow they swear you’re a ghost for they won’t believe you are here. For years we spoke of you …”
Grifin interjected. “Mayhap embellished slightly.”
Brodin smiled. He set a hand on Alan’s shoulder. “I look forward to meeting my family, Laird.”
“Aye, the clan settled the matter long ago. I need your counsel, Brodin, and the three of us will see the Grants succeed.” Alan handed him a cup. “Da would’ve been proud of us, especially you and all that you went through these past years.”
Brodin downed his drink and grinned. “I will hear these tales you’ve told and shall decide if they are embellished.”
Both his brother laughed boisterously. His brothers hadn’t changed much. He too was in a merry mood considering how he’d always dreaded his return. And the fact that he hadn’t come home with Dallis as he’d intended.
“Before you fill your gullet, a missive came for you from Laird Cameron.” Alan handed him the folded, sealed parchment.
He took it and hastily opened it, hoping it was news of Dallis.
Brodin,
Come when you receive this.
Graeme
His message brief, Brodin wished he’d indicated why he needed him to come. He would head out once he ate and got a wee bit of rest. Graeme could help him track Dallis. One thing he knew for certain, he wasn’t coming back until he found her.