One & Only

by Kara Griffin

  His lass didn’t much look like her mother or father, nor her brother and sister, with their dark hair and brown eyes. It was whispered the lass bore traits of Mackay ancestors. The Mackay clan came to Scotland much around the same time the Gunns had—all proud of their heritage and lineage. Oftentimes, his da would allow the man of God to read from the tome of when they had first arrived on the land. Grey always envisioned the men to be mighty warriors who scared off their enemies with clever tactics and the wit of force.

  He attentively watched her family mingling with his own. Albrey’s brother, Branford, was quite older and stood with the other important people attending King William. Her sister, Esmereld, was to marry the year next and attended with her betrothed, Marvin, one of the king’s loyal vassals.

  “Ow, lass, ye bit me.” He pulled his hand away and looked at the teeth marks on his palm. “Why’d ye do that?”

  “’Tis what ye deserves, Grey Gunn.” She pulled at his tartan, yanking it to take his attention away from the hurt. “I am sorry, Grey, did I truly hurt ye?” She looked ready to weep.

  “Nay, you could never hurt me, honey bee.” Grey softened his voice to soothe her. He sat up, bringing himself to his knees.

  Before he knew what’d happened, something smacked him in the face. The little heathen threw food at him. He licked the sweet-tasting cream from his lips and laughed. Even at the lass’ young age, she could make his stomach content. Each time she’d visited him, she brought gifts. She’d told him it was to tempt him to accept her, or so that’s what her mama had told her to say. He wasn’t about to turn down a tasty gift, regardless of the fact that he had no choice but to accept her. Grey had been taught to do his duty and so he resigned himself that she would be his.

  “What have ye made, Albrey? ‘Tis tasty … mmm.” He licked the sweet cream from his lips.

  “Mama helped. I made you a sweet cake. Da brought some powder when he came home and I know ye likes ‘em.”

  “Is that the Gunn brat there with our lass?”

  Both Albrey and Grey looked up to see Kenneth MacHeth take the seat next to Albrey’s father at the table which had been set up near their tent. Grey nodded in greeting as he’d seen his da do. He felt Albrey pressing against him and he set an arm around her back.

  “All’s well, honey bee. Why are you afeared?” Whenever she was afraid, she’d try to hide behind him. This wasn’t the first time she’d done so. He remembered the day when she’d accidentally tripped the stable master and ran to him for protection, though it wasn’t needed. Everyone adored her and would rather be flayed with a reed than have her hurt or upset.

  Her wee hands pulled his head forward. She whispered so softly, he bent further to hear. “’Tis the MacHeth. Aye, Grey, see his eyes … He looks at me like I done wrong.”

  “’Tis your imagination, lass. He’s your father’s ally and loves ye as do all the Mackays, and this day so shall all the Gunns.” Grey looked at the tall warrior, whose face was covered with a light haired beard. Most of his features were hidden and he couldn’t tell what manner of man he was.

  She shook her head adamantly. “Nay, I tell ye … When my da isn’t looking, he’s ireful. He does not like me.”

  “Of course he likes you. Why do ye say that?”

  She lowered her gaze. “He doesn’t like me for he told me so.” Her mouth turned and she looked like she’d cry.

  “Shhh, lass, don’t weep. I promise I won’t let him look at you that way.” Grey took hold of her hand and gave it an assured squeeze.

  “Aye, what shall ye do? Will ye slay him for me, Grey? I’d like to see that.” She giggled but then moved even further behind him when MacHeth glanced their way.

  Grey turned around, setting his hands on her small shoulders, and smiled. “I’d slay him if that’s what ye want.” She would be his wife when she grew to womanhood, and he couldn’t stand by and allow her distress.

  She knocked him backwards when she threw herself in his arms. “Oh, Grey, I love ye. You know why?”

  “Nay, why, honey bee?” He pulled her wee hands from around his neck, knowing his face had brightened to that of a shy maiden. Grey didn’t want anyone seeing her fond affection for him, especially his friends who would tease him unrelentingly.

  “Ye are my very own protector. But no one can protect me from him.”

  “Lass, have you told your da you’re afeared? Mayhap he can calm your worries.”

  “Och the MacHeth is the monster ‘neath me bed. Oh, nay! He told me not to tell.”

  Grey found himself frowning. “Tell anyone what?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell, Grey, not even ye.”

  He gripped her arm, holding fast to the fabric of her frock and looked back at MacHeth. “Albrey, lass, tell me. I’ll be your husband one day, and you should tell me everything. You will start obeying me.”

  With a tug to her arm, she freed herself. “You’re not my husband yet, Grey Gunn. I shan’t tell ye.” The little mite stuck her tongue at him and then proceeded to stick her thumb in her mouth. Aye, she was young and had much growing to do before he’d take her to wife. Hopefully, by then she’d outgrow her impish behavior.

  “You’re never going to obey me, are ye?”

  She pulled her thumb from her mouth. “Very well, he spoke ungodly words … Aye and then I heard him bespeak the secret.”

  “What secret?”

  “The MacHeth told me not to tell. He said he would spank me ere I did. I didn’t mean to listen, Grey, really I did not. Och he bespoke the words and no one was there but I. That’s when I learned …”

  Grey frowned, hearing those words. “Learned what, lass?”

  She closed her mouth and folded her arms, and began shaking her head.

  “He hasn’t the right to direct you. Ye should tell your da. Will you tell him this day? Promise me.” Grey waited for her answer, and instead of appeasing him, she lay on the soft grass, sucking her thumb as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

  Albrey took the opportunity to bend an arm beneath her head and close her eyes. She ignored him altogether. Grey didn’t like what their conversation alluded to, but it could just be the imaginings of a little lass. Surely her father’s ally would not want to harm her. She was just a little snip of a girl, unable to hurt a fly.

  Finally, he’d been given a reprieve when she drifted off to sleep. Now with her parents close by, he could enjoy himself for a few minutes. As the sun began to set, the revelry intensified. This was Grey’s favorite time of day. The heat eased and the men set about their arms and tested their strength while there was still enough light to see.

  He was always awed watching the men throw the cabers, go at each other with axes, and fight hand-to-hand combat. One day, he promised himself, he would be one of those men—a powerful force to be reckoned with as his father proclaimed. Until then, Grey studied their movements, noting each flick of the wrist, each tumble in the dirt, the effectiveness of using the body. War was part of their existence and the only way to protect what was theirs. Grey wished he was old enough to fight beside a warrior, though he needed more training before he’d be allowed to war.

  Duff, Kenneth, Colm, Sean, and James joined him on the rise of the hill above the soldiers on the training field. Each had been friends since their swaddling years. Grey would one day give them each a place of honor within the clan. For he swore they would be his guard. Being laird, they would protect him and all or any that he commanded.

  “Where’s the wee sultag?” his friend Duff asked.

  “Did ye tie her to a tree, Grey? Hope ye tied the rope nice and tight, for that lass can escape all,” Greer said, laughing.

  The lads joined Greer in laughter, knowing that was exactly what Grey wanted to do all day. But Grey didn’t appreciate the jest or the insult, and frowned at his friends.

  “Nay, she’s resting. And don’t ye be calling her a beast, Duff. She will one day be your clan’s lady. Dare you affront me by insulting her?” He sho
ved Duff in the chest and knocked him backward on to his arse. Grey wouldn’t let any of them insult Albrey, even in jest. His duty insisted her protect her honor even if he agreed with his friend’s remark.

  Duff took offense to his action and jumped on him, making him fall to the ground. He rolled over Duff and punched him square in the nose. Grey tried to bloody him, but the lad was far too thickheaded to damage. The only way to rile him was to … Collecting a good bit of saliva in his mouth, Grey started to let it slide from his lips. A stream of spit wadded downward toward Duff’s face.

  “Get off me, Grey! I swear if you spit on me, I’ll knock ye senseless.” Duff squirmed beneath him and tried to buck him off.

  Grey sucked up the stream of saliva and spit it far off. He shook his head and swept the hair away that had fallen in his eyes. “Aye, Duff? Get off your arse and don’t be offending Albrey. She’s just a wee lass and can’t help being a pest.”

  The lads continued to watch the soldiers, their earlier fracas forgotten. After the late-afternoon sparring ended, his da and his closest ally Donal Ross found him. Laird Ross and his father had been friends for many years, and great allies of King William.

  “Lad, I’ve been looking for ye. Have you learned anything this day?” His da tilted his head in the direction of the soldiers.

  “Aye, Da, I’ve learned never to take your eyes off your opponent,” he said, eyeing Duff.

  Laird Ross chuckled low. “Good lesson, lad. Never underestimate him neither. Always be ready for anything and ye shall never be defeated.”

  His da said, “That goes for all of ye. Be off, Grey has duties to attend.”

  His friends left and Grey stepped between his father and Laird Ross. He’d grown tall enough to look at their faces without raising his face much. His head nearly reached his father’s shoulder.

  “I best get back to watching Albrey. She’s probably awakened by now.”

  Laird Gunn patted his son’s shoulder. “Aye, ye do your duty well watching the lass. It was honorable of ye to do so all day, lad. We should get to the betrothal ceremony; all are likely in their cups by now and won’t get to enjoy the announcement.”

  Laird Ross stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “Before we do, I want to give ye this.” He pulled out a steel dagger from a leather sheath. The dagger was well made, encrusted with a row of red jewels on the handle. “I give ye this gift, Grey, on this your betrothal day. As your champion, I bid you to always protect what is yours.”

  “I will, Laird Ross.” Grey was pleased by the gift and admired the sharp blade. The jewels gleamed and gave a sparkle to the handle. He slid it back in the sheath and tucked it inside his tunic. “Thank ye for giving it to me.”

  “Come, we shall find the lass and shout the news afar. She’ll be a bonny lass, Grey, when she’s older. Albrey will give you fine sons with strength enough to lead our soldiers. You will be an honorable man and she deserving such.” Laird Ross clapped his shoulder.

  Grey walked beside his da, stepping lively. He wanted to hear the grand gesture of what the betrothal meant, once again. When his da and Albrey’s father was given the order by King William to betroth Albrey to him, Grey had been awakened in the middle of the night. They related the dictate with elation. The betrothal would allow them to ally their clans, and put aside the wars and scuffles.

  The only promise Albrey’s father asked of him was that their families be at peace and that Albrey be safe from harm be it from he or his enemies. When asked if he could handle the task, Grey nodded and assured them he was capable, for which he received a few punches to his arms and grunts of approval.

  Grey would always protect her and keep her in comforts, safe from his enemies, and he’d do his best to adore her. It’s what his da had done for his ma. His father had placed his mother in high esteem, always telling anyone who would listen that if it were not for her, he would be a lesser man. Laird Gunn taught his men to follow his lead and revere the women in their clan with the greatest respect. Grey had received those lessons since he’d been able to walk. Without women, men would suffer so. They would not have such tasty meals, clean tartans, tidy homes, or children to strengthen the clan.

  As Grey reached the table where his ma had sat, he frowned. Neither Lady Mackay nor his ma was there. The spot where Albrey had lain was unattended, the grass undisturbed. She hadn’t lain very long. He should have known she would flee as soon as everyone’s backs turned. Then a twinge of guilt came upon him and he scolded himself for not checking on her sooner.

  Both the Mackay and Gunn clans, as well of those attending the celebration, searched for hours. All looked for the missing lass, well into the morning light. Grey wouldn’t return to his family’s holding no matter how much his ma pleaded. He kept the search going, lighting a torch and checking most of her hiding spots.

  The lass disappeared altogether. Grey grew dejected and could only blame himself. Their earlier conversation came back to him and he relayed what she’d told him to his da. He envisioned her face when she’d told him of her fear. But his da didn’t put much weight in Albrey’s concern about Kenneth MacHeth.

  After nearly three days of looking for her, Grey finally conceded defeat. As he stood before his family’s home crestfallen, his da came outside.

  “Come inside, Grey. Your ma is worried sick.”

  Grey pulled the dagger from within his tunic, given to him by Donal Ross. Fitting it symbolized his betrothal, a union that would never be. Taking hold of his plaid, he tore it off, and then ripped his tunic until he felt the breeze on his uncovered chest. The air was crisp enough to bring a speckle of goose bumps to his flesh. Grey paid no attention to the effect of the night wind and looked up at his father.

  “I didn’t keep my promise to Albrey. I swore to protect her. She’s lost to me forever, Da. This will always remind me of my failure.” Grey drew the pointed end of the sharp dagger over his heart, making a decent sized slash, one that would certainly need stitching.

  Blood began pouring out of him and all he felt was the warmth of the liquid flowing over his skin and the sting of his failure. He looked up at his da and his vision blurred.

  “Grey! God Almighty! Grey!” His da roared an anguished cry as he caught Grey’s body before it fell to the ground.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Summer, 1215

  Falstone, Kingdom of England

  Bree turned at the sound of her friend’s voice. “You’re going to fall.”

  Perched on a high rock, she intended to jump, not fall. Even if she did fall, the distance to the water wasn’t so great. The water reflected a mass of shiny waves from the bright sun as if jewels floated on the surface. She held her nose, scrunched her eyes closed, and plunged forth, landing with a large splash in the cool water. Her feet touched the silky bottom of the lake, where colder water chilled her toes. The lake was welcome relief from the heat of the day.

  “Rhys, come in. The water is refreshing. I feel better now that I’ve cooled. ‘Tis too hot a day to stay in your leggings.” Bree splashed and frolicked, hoping he would join her.

  Rhyland, the current stable apprentice, had been with the Champlains since he was born. They’d grown up together and often Bree encouraged him to join her in the pursuit to escape her chores. Their manor was located in a desolate part of the country, where many did not pass or visit. They seldom received visitors and aside from the household staff and those in the small village nearby; there weren’t many friends to be had.

  “But Bree, we’re going to get in trouble if we get caught. I should be about my work.” He turned and peered toward the copse of trees which led back to the manor.

  She never thought he was brave. But Bree had enough courage for them both and often forced Rhys to do things we wasn’t wont to do. All he ever thought of was work. She swam to where he’d sat high upon the rock from where she’d jumped.

  “Be not a babe. How shall we get in trouble? My lord and lady are away and shan’t return for days. I’m free, Rh
ys. Come, pray come in all ready. Besides, work will be there when ye return.” She sent a splash at him and laughed when he tried to avoid the drops of water.

  Rhys didn’t like being called a babe. Though he was a handful of years older than she was, he’d reached the age beyond boyhood. Bree didn’t take notice of his attraction until he began removing his attire. Not that she wanted to take notice, but his chest started to form muscles where there had been none. The braies he wore barely concealed his midsection, provoking her imagination to singe her cheeks. Hair covered parts of his body which had been bare. His legs now thick from work in the stables braced before he jumped into the water, sending a cascade at her. Bree sunk in the water and floated just below the surface. Strong arms propelled him toward her and she realized in that moment her childhood friend had become a man.

  “Feels good,” he said, and then splashed her with a mighty blow to the water.

  The wall of water hit her face, stinging her eyes and nose, and caused her to cough.

  “You devil!” Bree swam after him and dunked his head beneath the water, using both hands to hold him under. When his dark head came up from the water, she looked into his rich-brown eyes and kissed him. It was a simple kiss, a girl’s kiss, but there it was. She had always wanted to do it and with his eyes glaring at her and his lips pursed, she didn’t think about it. His lips were hard and unyielding.

  “Why did ye go and do that?”

  “You didn’t like my kiss?” Bree laughed and splashed him back before swimming to the bank. Once there, she crawled upon a flat rock and awaited him.

  “Bree, you’re like a sister. A sister shouldn’t kiss her brother so.” His face scrunched in dislike, sending a dismissive look her way.

  “Fie, I am not your sister, Rhys. You kiss like a wet frog anyway.” Bree laughed at her jest, knowing her insult would gain another look of disdain.