by Ria Cantrell
With all the strength he could gather, Caleb spoke. He said, “Liam, remember what we have discussed.”
With a glance toward Rory, Liam answered, “Aye, da’. We are all in agreement.”
Rory did not know what his father was referring to, but he knew that it was probably just a formality. His father was designating Jamie to take his place as laird. It was his birthright and Rory only wished that Jamie would have been able to stand beside his father now.
With a grimace of pain, Caleb then said a name that struck terror in Brielle’s heart. Her murmured, “McManus; t’was nay the lad. T’was McManus.”
Bronwyn looked at Drew. Was her father naming his murderer or was he simply delirious from his grievous wound?
“Da’ are ye tryin’ to tell us who….”
“My beautiful Rose,” he gurgled. It was an effort for him to speak. Blood had seeped out of the corner of his mouth and Morag quickly wiped it away. She said, “Dunna’ speak, now. Save yer’ strength.”
“Nay,” he said vehemently. “T’was McManus. Do nay punish the lad.”
The brothers looked at one another and only Rory and Brielle understood the magnitude of Caleb’s words. That bloody bastard had once taken Brielle and he had nearly killed her. He was never seen again, after Campbell fell to MacCollum so to hear his name now, after all this time, set anger boiling in Rory’s veins.
“I will find him, Da’. I vow that to ye’. I will avenge ye’.”
Caleb shook his head and a horrible rattle sounded in his lungs as he struggled to breath. “Dead,” he murmured. “Already dead.”
“Nay, da’. Nay.”
Drew spoke up and said, “He means McManus is already dead. I left him at the foot of the ridge. It seems vengeance has already been wrought upon him.”
“Bring me my lass.”
Mara was already holding his hand, so they knew he must have meant Bronwyn or Jenna. Both now knelt beside him and Bronwyn placed her head upon her father’s chest.
“We are here, Da’. We are here. We are nay going to leave ye’.”
“My Rose,” he gasped, trying to still breathe, though more blood pooled in his mouth. “Dunna’ weep for me. I am so proud of my family, of ye’ all. Granddaughter, ye’ must know I approve of yer’ lad. Be happy, my sweet. It is noble to love.”
And then, when he could say nothing more, Caleb MacCollum, the most powerful laird that clan had ever known, breathed his last.
~
Chapter Forty-Nine ~
As dawn’s early rays filtered through a cloud-covered sky, Castle Campbell began to show signs of life. Hushed voices carried somber news to those about and what had started out as a time of merriment now had turned into a time of mourning. The stillness of the keep bespoke of the solemn vigil that had been set during the night to honor the fallen laird of Clan MacCollum. The melancholy mood was coupled with the attempt on the king’s life, so all vestiges of revelry had been put aside.
The laird’s oldest son, Jamie, had arrived with his wife, Sinead, at daybreak. Word had gotten to him rapidly of the laird’s final hours and so he had spent the night riding to be at his family’s side to bid farewell to the great laird, his father Caleb. They were ushered in and offered something to break their fast. Caleb would be laid to rest on the next day, but for this day, he would lie in state for those who could pay their respects. It was a difficult day because the keep was on high alert and security was taken to the greatest level. The king was locked in his private chambers, but had called an impromptu court before the funeral preparations were to be made.
The six sons of Caleb stood as guard around the body of their father while the king called for court to convene after the early morning meal. Bronwyn knew that there was going to be a reckoning for the deception they had played upon the king, but at the moment, she no longer cared. A great light had gone out in her life. Her champion and advocate was no more; it mattered not what the king could do to her. Drew tried to be a comfort to her, but she was so distraught, he was at a loss. He could not help her now so he would offer her his love and just give her the time she needed to grieve the death of her father.
Drew also had a deep sense of guilt for the way he had scolded his daughter. Since he had been so curt to her, she had yet to lift her beautiful head. It hung in sorrow and on more than one occasion, he caught her sobbing. He wanted to offer her an apology, but like her mother, she was not open to any solace for her heavy heart.
The day seemed to grow darker as the Brandham family was commanded to appear before the king. Richard sat above the dais, dressed formally. His face was set like stone as each one of his hosts entered the hall. He was flanked by his personal guard and Sir Erik stood at his left, with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His legs were braced apart and there was no trace of the loyalty and friendship in his ice blue eyes. He was a warrior first and Drew understood that. Too long had he been missing from the English order of Chivalry as he had lived among the Clan MacCollum since marrying Bronwyn! Straightening his back, to fortify his courage, Drew approached the dais and knelt before the king. With head bowed, he said, “Your Grace, I humbly beg your pardon for….”
“Enough! You will speak when We command it and not a word before. Stand!”
Drew rose to his feet and swallowed deeply. The memory of another time when he had stood before Richard’s grandfather rose like bile creeping into the back of his throat. That time ended with a flogging that had left him with scars across his back that could still be seen to this very day.
“You and your family have deceived Us. You will explain.”
“Your Grace,” Drew began and Richard thundered, “Your Majesty. You will address Us as Majesty.”
“Your Majesty, I wish I could explain. Nothing I can say would justify what we have done.”
Without warning, Jenna rushed forward and she knelt before the king and took his hand and kissed it. She begged, “Please Yer’ Majesty. T’was all my fault.”
“Jenna, no. Go to your mother.”
Facing her father, she met his eyes finally. She said, “Da’ my actions have brought all this sorrow to my family. I must do this now.”
“Please, Your Majesty. My daughter is distraught.”
“Allow her to speak, Sir Drew. We would hear what she has to say. Go ahead, Lady.”
With her eyes lowered, Jenna murmured, “Thank ye’, Majesty.”
“Please stand. We would see your eyes when you address Us.”
Jenna stood and her eyes met that of the most powerful man in England. She saw just how young he looked as he sat there in his place of authority. She said, “I disobeyed my parents. I abandoned them in their time of need when they were preparing for yer’ visit. I was like a willful child and I would nay be told what to do. I thought, I mean, I believed I was going to be forced to marry.”
“We do not believe We expressed an intent for your hand.”
“I know. I was foolish. And selfish. Yer’ Majesty, my family so wanted to please ye’. My cousin Kiera stepped in to help while I was celebrating the harvest with my uncles. We had nay meant to deceive ye’. My family thought I would come to my senses before ye’ made the connection that Kiera had taken my rightful and dutiful place.”
“And did you think We were so stupid that We would not know there was a difference between the two of you?”
“In truth, Yer’ Majesty, I did nay think at all. I did nay think of my parents or of the Royal Progress or of anyone except fer’ myself. I forced their hands to deceive ye’. Please, Yer’ Majesty, I beg of ye’. They are good and honorable people. If anyone deserves to be punished, t’would be me.”
Drew started at those words. They rang in exact memory of words her mother spoke on his behalf just before he was flogged. Bronwyn’s hand pressed into his shoulder and steadied him. She whispered, “Ssh, Drew. Let her speak. She needs to do this. She is nay a little girl any longer.”
“I wish people would stop telling me that,�
�� Drew said miserably, but as he watched his daughter fearlessly face the king, he knew it was true. She was brave and strong. He knew that he would gladly take another flogging for her, as he had done for his wife so long ago.
The king pondered the words of the valiant girl who had dared to deceive him, who had forced her parents hand to act unwisely and though he was angry, part of him was quite charmed. “Go on, We would hear more of what you wish to say. Why could your parents just not explain to Us that you were not home?”
Jenna had to choose her words carefully. If she admitted that her “cousin” Kiera had come from another place in time in some sort of twist of Old Magic, it could get them all tried for witchcraft as well as their part in the deception played upon the king. She could not even admit she was at a Samhain celebration to risk such a thing. Witchcraft was punishable by a horrible death and so Jenna said, “I think, Yer’ Majesty, that they did nay want anything to upset ye’. Yer’ missive requesting my presence in particular, made them fear that they would disobey a direct order. My cousin happened to be visiting and everyone knows we look so much alike. It was only hoped that she could be a decoy until I returned.”
“A decoy. Hmm. And so you have returned, Madame. So are We to assume that your betrothal was also a ruse?”
Jenna nodded slightly.
“And just where is your betrothed now, for I wish a word with him, as well.”
Jenna was trying to hold herself together and she vowed she would not cry before this king. She kept her head lowered and said, “I do nay know where they have taken him, Majesty.”
“Taken him? We do not understand.”
As tears pooled in Jenna’s eyes, she said, “They will nay tell me what they have done with him. In truth, I fear the worst. He is nay my betrothed, t’is true, but I do love him. I fear for his life for they believe that he killed my grandfather.”
“Ah. And just what do you believe?”
“I believe him to be innocent, Yer’ Majesty.”
The king leaned over and whispered something to one of his attendants. Erik Ragnorsen stood as straight as a statue cut from stone, not so much as even moving a muscle. He was in a very precarious situation and he really did not know how all of this was to play out. He was truly caught between a rock and a hard place. Part of him wanted to throttle his “niece” Jenna and part of him wanted to praise her for her bravery. Finally, after turning from the man who had been privy to the king’s attention, Richard addressed Erik.
“Captain of Our Guard, know you what they have done to the lady’s betrothed?” Sarcasm was not missed when the king emphasized “betrothed”.
“My Liege, he is secured and being detained.”
Jenna’s eyes grew wide and she nearly wailed, “Uncle Erik, nay. He will die. Ye’ must release him.”
“What means she by such a statement, Captain?”
“I know not, My Liege. He has not been harmed nor tortured, yet. He is merely secured in the prison below the keep.”
“Why is he being held there?”
“He awaits trial.”
The king sat straighter in his chair and said in clipped tones, “We did not give the order to try him.”
“Nay, m’lord. T’is true, but Highland justice has its own place here. He will be tried for treason against the clan MacCollum and for murder of the Laird of the Clan.”
Jenna was beginning to lose control of her tightly held emotions. It was all too much for her. Grandfather practically had used his dying breath to exonerate Tavish. He nearly said as much. She faced the king again, trembling with rage and sorrow. This was all so unfair. The only man who could truly explain what had been done was lying in state and being prepared for burial. He gave her his blessing. Jenna knew she was not wrong about that.
“Please m’lord. Tavish is innocent. He did nay hurt my grandfather. I know that in my heart.”
“Yes, well the heart is not always right about who it allows one to trust. We, above all, can now attest to that.”
Jenna put her head in her hands and wept outright. It was too much. She could not bear the grief another second.
“Lady, what is the reason for your outburst. Something tells me you do not do so often.”
“All of my actions have hurt everyone, including ye’, m’lord. My grandfather lies dead because of me. Tavish is imprisoned because of me and ye’ wish to punish my family for actions that I brought upon them.”
“I fail to understand how it is your fault that the Laird is dead. You had naught to do with it.”
At his words, Jenna raised her face to look at the king. He had not used the royal “we” when speaking to her. That meant he was personally regarding her.
“Had I nay needed an escort back to my home, my grandfather would still be alive today; Tavish would nay be awaiting trial for his murder.”
The king stood up. He was moved to pity at the pleadings of this young woman. She was clearly not one to use womanly wiles to bend people to her will. Her emotions were raw and heartfelt. Besides, she had tried to save his life; which was no small feat. He said, “Please approach. I wish to speak to you.”
Jenna moved closer, keeping her head and eyes lowered in reverence. King Robert was their ruler, but she needed to show the proper respect to the English king. Especially now, when all their lives rested in his hands.
Richard placed a gloved finger beneath Jenna’s chin and lifted it to have her face him. “Tsk, such a pity,” he said with a small indication of a smile. “I believe I would have liked to actually get to know the real daughter of this house, for her spirit and audacity rather intrigues me. Now then, did you or did you not shoot arrows at my confidante?”
Jenna gulped. Her face still rested in the palm of the king. His other hand rested on the pommel of his sword. Was he going to behead her right in front of her entire family as punishment for her ruse?
Lifting her chin slightly, even though he still held it, Jenna tried to be brave. She would not weep for her own life. She answered, “I did, Yer’ Majesty.”
“A pretty good shot, I might add. I do believe you wounded him.”
“He dared to raise his sword to ye’, m’lord. I thought he had tried to….”
“Make no mistake, Lady. He wanted me dead. I must thank you for risking yourself to try to skewer him.”
“What? I dunna’ think I understand.”
“He could have easily killed you, my lady. He had no qualms about killing his king. Do you think he would have cared about one woman that got in his way?”
“Oh,” she said, with a soft sigh. She had not even given her safety a thought at that moment. She only meant to stop the man who seemed bent on treachery.
Letting go of her face, the king crossed his arms over his chest. Now, there was no mistaking the grin that he displayed.
“It seems you are quite a handful, Lady Jenna. I believe your family is punished enough having to restrain your unbiddable behavior. But, for your valor in trying to save my life, I will grant you pardon. That was quite an honorable thing you tried to do.”
“M’lord?”
“Sir Erik, take the lady to where you have brought her love and release him. We would speak to him.”
Despite needing to stick close to the king’s side, Erik was not about to disobey him. He trusted that there were enough people around to protect the king, at the moment and so he took Jenna’s elbow and lead her from the hall. They heard the king say, “The rest will remain until We have a chance to speak to the prisoner.”
~~~~~
Erik did not speak while he brought Jenna through the winding tunnels leading to the pit below. What could he say, really? If he had been angry with her, he was not now. She was a feisty bag of tricks, but hadn’t he loved that about his own dear wife, Rhianna? Besides, her own loss and sense of responsibility for the death of Caleb sat heavily upon her. He could not say anything to make her feel worse about it. It was something she would have to reconcile in time. We all have demons
to fight, he thought.
Finally she spoke and she said, “I hope we are nay too late, Uncle.”
“Jenna, nothing was done to him. He is strong. I trained him myself.”
“Aye, he is strong. But he canna’ be locked up in a closed place.”
Erik nearly had forgotten that he was one of the men who pulled Tavish from the storage closet. He had witnessed the terrified panic in a man who seemed fearless about everything else. Yes, he was one of those who could not be in confined spaces for very long. With everything that had taken place, Erik sadly had not given much thought to the consequences of detaining the man in a place like these black pits of despair. He quickened his step and Jenna was determined to keep up with his long-legged strides. Even with a torch to light their way, they could barely see more than an arm’s length in front of them and so they had to take care not to stumble on the slick stones beneath their feet.
The passageway was rank with dampness and odors of prisoners that had long been gone from the place. More than once something scampered near their legs and slime oozed into the soft slippers on Jenna’s feet.
She no longer cared. She just had to get to Tavish and nothing could deter her. As she almost slipped on the slick stones, Erik caught her and he said, “I was very proud of you today. You need to know that it was not your fault about Caleb. We sometimes forgot that he was a warrior first because of the love he had for his family. Caleb chose to go with Tavish. I’m quite certain about that. He was not the sort of man who was led to do things he did not want to do.”
Jenna looked up at the giant of a man holding her arm. She said simply, “Thank you, Uncle Erik.”
It meant a lot to her to have his words, but no words could chase away her guilt; especially about having summoned Tavish to her time and having him suffer because of it. She had pondered all the times she had seen him in her dreams and she realized that if it was not for her, he would not be sitting, rotting in a cell now. All the words of comfort from men like Erik Ragnorsen could not allay her guilt. She vowed silently that she would never put her feelings first. She had done enough damage with her will to last a lifetime.