by Quinn, Paula
Galeren met Silene’s gaze. He wanted to smile, but he couldn’t. Morgann was correct. Galeren was guilty of those things.
But when he looked into her eyes at his reflection, he didn’t see a shameful man. “Mayhap, ’tis not aboot what we did but why we did it. My heart has found my love,” he said, keeping his gaze on her. “What I did was not fer greed or pride, but aboot love.” He tore his gaze from hers and set it on Morgann. “And aboot wantin’ to keep her safe from men who wanted to kill her. That now includes ye, Morgann Bell. The only reason ye are not dead is because I didna want her to see me do such a thing to a man she considered a friend.” He waited while the young man closed his eyes that were staring at the ground. “Ye can try to run away,” he continued, “but ye know I will catch ye. Ye know what I will do to ye.”
Morgann knew of Galeren’s deeds. All the soldiers knew how savage he was in battle. He feared nothing and no one and won every fight. He’d beaten every man who came against him. He was the valiant captain in gold who was always the one sent on a mission when trusted men were needed. He’d also been sent out often to hunt and kill the king’s enemies, which he did proficiently. Each had been found. All of them killed.
Morgann didn’t need to be bound or secured. He wouldn’t leave.
They rode all day, stopping only to eat and to pray. They traveled northward. They didn’t rest in the large burgh of Kilmarnock but made camp outside the town of Stewarton.
As their second night together since leaving all behind drew near, Galeren found the most out-of-the-way clearing to make camp.
He tied Morgann’s wrists and ankles together. A precaution more necessary as they slept. He held Silene in his arms as he had the night before, and it was she who crawled into his lap, pressed her wind-burned cheek to his chest and closed her eyes.
He didn’t care if Morgann saw and she, apparently, didn’t care either.
“We will reach Paisley Abbey, ootside of Glasgow, tomorrow,” he told her. “I have some friends there who will hide us while we rest. ’Tis the last place John will think to look fer us.”
Silene appeared alarmed. “Do you trust the men there?”
“Aye,” he told her. “Mac and I helped them rebuild some parts of the abbey when we first arrived there with King David. John hates the abbey because his mother died there while givin’ birth to his brother, Robert.”
“My uncle is a devious man,” she said with her head tilted and her lips near his ear. “And if I speak my vows and put a man like him in a higher position, am I not guilty of his crimes right along with him? And would I be using God to do it?”
He didn’t know what else to say but, “Aye. I suppose so.”
She trembled in his arms. He comforted her with warm whispers of how beautiful she was to him. He told her about being captivated by her the first day on the cliffs.
“I have never thought of myself as beautiful,” she told him with a smile he could hear in her voice.
“I dinna know how ye could see anythin’ different. But yer genuine humility is quite lovely in and of itself.”
“I have no hair,” she reminded him.
“I canna imagine how much bonnier ye will be when it falls around yer face.”
He was sorry he could barely see her face. He wanted to kiss her, but he worried it might lead to more. He wanted it to, but he knew he couldn’t. He had made a vow and he intended to keep it. But when the vow was over, he would marry her if she would have him. Until then, he would help her trust him, give her time for her to think about a life with him. He wouldn’t push too hard. He would offer her patience and try to get her home to Father Timothy as soon as he could. They both needed his advice.
“You have quite a silver tongue, Captain,” she laughed softly, stirring the hair along his neck.
“I speak only the truth.” He smiled and instinctually closed his arms around her more tightly, breathing against her, letting his hands rove over her back. He longed to take hold of her and pull her between his legs. But he stopped.
“Let us get some sleep now, lass.”
“Aye,” she agreed quietly and closed her eyes.
Seven more days of this, not including the time spent at the abbey. He couldn’t do it. He certainly couldn’t sleep with her like this after tonight and think he was strong enough to resist her.
But tonight, at least until her next prayer time, he wasn’t letting her go.
The next sennight was not always torturous for Galeren. There were days when he looked toward her cleaning something from the campsite. Most times, she caught him looking and blushed all the way to her scalp.
They kissed—often, but when he asked her what she thought of one of the priests from the abbey marrying them, she told him she couldn’t marry him yet.
He would wait until she could.
There was no sign of Mac or the others, but Galeren wasn’t worried. If anyone could be trusted, it was Mac. They kept Morgann with them, mostly because Galeren didn’t know what to do with him.
The soldier did his best to strike up conversation, but Galeren had nothing to say to him. He was part of the plot to kill Silene if she showed signs of not speaking her vows. Galeren would never trust him again.
“We are close, aboot half a day away,” he told her from the top of a cluster of hills. “Beyond the hills.”
They traveled along the wild river Garry where small waterfalls gushed over the braes. They trotted their horses through trees and over rocks. Birds flew overhead, shouting at the intrusion.
Home. The sounds echoed in his head. “I return home as often as I can, but not nearly as often as I should,” he told her when she drew near. “Before, I wanted to fight. Now, I want to have a home and hearth of my own with a bonny wife and bairns.”
Morgann called out from behind them. “Captain, are ye bringin’ me to yer home to kill me there? Will yer kin kill me?”
Galeren didn’t turn to face him. “If one of them wants ye dead badly enough, he will do it.”
“But why would they?” Morgann pushed.
Now, Galeren pivoted on his heel and glared at his prisoner. “Mayhap because ye turned on yer captain.”
He considered releasing Morgann in the forest around the stronghold. The lad would meet his end at the tips of a spiked ball flying from the branches. The traps were set up for intruders and enemies, which Morgann now was. Galeren wouldn’t bring him into the stronghold, but would leave him outside the walls in the home of one of the shepherds.
He wanted Mac and the others to see him and know what he’d done. So he kept the man. Let them decide and agree what to do with him.
“I admit I am still anxious about meeting your family. What will they think of a novice who flung her vows to the four winds and ran off with the captain of the king’s army? That is not a good first impression.”
He promised all would be well. They would understand and even if they didn’t, they would still love her because he did.
They came to the pastures, miles of it frosted with early autumn dew. Hundreds of wooly sheep and coos dotted the land. On the other side were more pastures and the deadly forests.
Just ahead, the walls of the stronghold rose high from the ground. Men dressed in plaids and weapons patrolled the land from the sky. They didn’t point their arrows at him as he headed toward one of the good-sized cottages near the forest. No one was home so he tied Morgann to a tree.
“There is nowhere fer ye to escape to, Morgann, so dinna try. Either the forest will kill ye, or I will. Stay here and take refuge when the shepherd returns. ’Tis gettin’ colder oot. Dinna be a fool.”
Morgann’s eyes glimmered with…what was that? Tears? Galeren turned away.
“What is the other option, Captain?” Morgann called out to him. “What if I dinna try to run. What will ye do to me?”
“I dinna know that yet. But right now, this is all the mercy ye will get from me.” He turned away and went to his horse a few feet away, where Silene waited.
Safe and alive, no thanks to Morgann. Galeren did not want to show the young soldier mercy. His betrayal cut too deep. Galeren had thought of him as one of his elite, one of his friends.
“Come, love,” he said to Silene. He was ready to leave.
“I will pray that all goes well for you, Morgann,” she promised before following Galeren.
“Ye have my thanks, Sister.”
“He is with the men who tried to kill ye, Silene,” Galeren reminded her.
“I know who he is,” she told him softly, ending that conversation.
She slowed coming under the shadow of the walls. “This place is so large! Is there an entire town inside?”
He smiled. “Ye will see, lass.”
“’Tis Galeren, son of Torin!” one of the guards shouted from above. “Open the gates. Wait! Who is that with ye?”
Galeren knew how difficult it was to bring anyone inside. The three brothers, including his father, who built the stronghold meant to keep it safe. It had taken over two hours to get Mac inside when they were here in the summer.
“’Tis…” He glanced at the habit she wore beneath her cloak and smiled. “’Tis Sister Silene Sparrow, niece of the High Steward of Scotland, with me,” he called back.
She followed him when the gates opened, then slowed again when her horse brought her inside. Her eyes widened at the stalls and vendors mingled with tents and theatrical performers. There was an enormous church and even a mill. Children ran to and from the smith and the carpenters’ tents, laughing and playing beneath the early autumn sun.
Spreading outward behind the marketplace were cottages both big and small scattered around the farming land and the wall beyond.
He watched her as she lifted her hand to her open mouth and her gaze rose to the web of walkways branching out from three main manor houses. Each walkway led to a smaller house and other houses.
They rode to the enormous middle house and dismounted.
A stable hand was there immediately to take his horse. He grinned and welcomed Galeren home.
“Is there anything I should know or do when I meet your parents or your brothers?” She wrung her hands together and bit her lip.
He took her hands in his and covered them. “They are not royalty. Just be yerself.”
“Galeren?” a woman called out as she approached with a babe on her hip.
He turned to her and his smile grew when he saw his cousin, Elysande.
“What brings ye back to us so soon, Cousin?” she asked with her gaze slipping to Silene in her robes.
“El,” he said after an embrace and a kiss to her cheek and to the head of the babe in her arms. “This must be the babe ye were carryin’ last time I was here.” The babe was beautiful like her mother, with raven hair and large, blue eyes.
“Aye. Raphaella,” his cousin told him.
He kissed the babe’s head again, swearing to himself that this one would know him. “I would like ye to meet Silene Sparrow, the high steward’s niece.”
His cousin smiled at her, eyes glinting like sapphires in well water. “Fergive me, but what is a nun doin’ travelin’ with ye?”
“Hidin’,” Galeren answered. “She is hidin’ from a powerful enemy. This is the safest place I know. And she isna a nun.”
“Well, this is the perfect time to be here,” she told them, not too alarmed by the news. “Everyone is gathered in my father’s solar to welcome home my brother, Tristan, and his new wife.”
“Oh.” His gaze slipped to Silene. Everyone would be there. It would be intimidating for her. Why, he almost felt intimidated.
He blinked away from her to his cousin and took in a deep breath. “’Twill be good to see Tristan again.” What was he going to tell his kin about her and who was possibly after her? Where was Father Timothy?
“How are ye, El?” he asked to fill the silence. “How is Raph and yer brood?”
His cousin turned a shade of pale green and closed her eyes.
“Elysande,” Silene pushed forward. “Are you…”
His cousin nodded and then heaved.
Was she what? Galeren wanted to know.
“I will be fine in a moment,” Elysande said between doubling over and more dry heaves.
“Nonsense, we will not leave you.”
Galeren liked Silene’s willingness to help. She had done it for everyone. Even Morgann.
“D’ye want us to get Raphael or one of the nurses?” he offered.
“No,” she insisted. “I am well. ’Tis just that…”
“What?”
“I am with child.”
His gaze fell to her flat belly and then he smiled and embraced her again.
“I will tell my husband tonight when we are alone and in our bed. I just need a wee bit of fresh air and rest.”
“Of course,” Silene reassured her calmly. “Is this yer first babe?”
El laughed. “’Tis our sixth.”
Silene looked surprised and then she smiled when El insisted they go inside.
“How d’ye feel?” Galeren asked Silene when they were alone.
“She was very nice,” she told him. “I’m sure the rest will be the same way.”
He shrugged his shoulders and walked away. “Eh, I dinna know aboot that.”
She pinched his sleeve and pulled him back to her. “Will you protect me from the mean ones?” she whispered, tilting her lips to his ear.
“With my life,” he promised and turned his lips to hers.
The front doors opened and a handsome giant stood on the other side.
Chapter Seventeen
The savage Highland warrior was bigger even than Padrig. He wore his pale blonde hair cut close at his temples with a dangling tail in the back. His eyes were as blue as the sea, his shoulders as wide as oceans.
Thankfully, he looked quite happy to see Galeren.
Beside him was a much smaller woman patting her hair. When she looked up, her cheeks were bright pink.
“Little brother!” The Highlander pulled Galeren into a tight embrace. “We were worried aboot ye when we heard aboot the Black Death.”
“I am well, Bors,” he promised and then introduced Silene to him.
Bors cleared his throat and introduced her to Constance, from the village. Come,” he told them. “Everyone will be pleased to have ye home. Tristan has also returned. ’Tis a blessed night.”
“When you say everyone,” Silene asked him. “How many do you mean exactly?”
Galeren’s brother laughed. “Not many really. Ye missed supper—though I’m sure somethin’ will be brought in fer ye. We are goin’ to our uncle Cain’s solar. ’Tis just the immediate kin by now.”
Silene swallowed. She knew from Galeren’s stories that number was high.
She wouldn’t be afraid. God was giving her back a family. The bigger the better it would be.
She stayed behind when Galeren stepped into the solar. She needed a moment more to prepare. His parents were inside, and not only them, but his uncles and aunts, his cousins.
She felt ill, but strangely…calm.
They were happy to see him. She could hear his mother ask him what had happened, as if some kind of motherly instinct came alive in her and she knew things no one else knew. A few more words with his mother and then a man’s voice.
Galeren was there, appearing through the doorway to take her hand and pull her in.
She stepped into a large room decorated with tapestries depicting three stags, and running deer, gardens, all embroidered in warm, rich tones. The fiery hearth was built against the north wall. Polished wooden chairs were set by windows or by the fire. Some were positioned together, while others were alone with a small table of books nearby.
There were men and women sitting and standing, with children running around them.
Every eye fell to her but all their faces blurred as Galeren urged her forward. She would not faint. She would not faint. She heard someone’s shocked whisper. “They are holdin’ hands!”
And another’s saying, “Aye. A captain and novice!”
Galeren held up his hand to quiet them. “She needs to stay here fer a wee bit. Fer protection.”
“Who would hurt a nun?” a dangerous Highlander said in a low, bear-like voice.
An old priest stepped around one of them and offered her a consoling smile. He was bald, with weathered skin, large, clear, sable eyes and a kind smile. Father Timothy.
“She is not a nun yet,” Galeren was quick to point out—and not for the first time. “I intend to offer her a different life.” He smiled and shrugged. “We shall see what she chooses.” Everyone cheered and it made her want to be a part of this family, cheering for love.
“In the meantime,” Galeren went on. “She has an enemy and he might show up here. She needs our protection.”
Three older men stood out from the crowd and nodded. His uncles, no doubt. She knew immediately which one was Galeren’s father.
More cheering went up.
“Are ye a woman of God?” the priest asked her quietly.
“Aye, Father. I spend time with Him every day.”
“We will protect the woman of God to the death!” a deadly Highlander called out.
“At the threat of war?” Galeren put to them. They were his kin. He needed their help.
“At the threat of death!” the men shouted.
After another toast, she was introduced to everyone. For the most part, she remembered them.
She was offered a chair by the hearth and given a small cup of wine.
Galeren had left her alone for a moment when his uncle pulled him away for a word, which was likely about her.
She caught sight of Galeren’s mother. One could truly not miss her in the large room. Her long locks were plaited down her back, but torchlight found a way to dance over the top of her pale blonde head like a halo in a painting Silene had seen. She drew the eye like a moth to a flame. Her radiance was made even more glorious by her thoughtful smile when she set her cornflower blue eyes on Silene.
She was coming over!
She was petite, like a veil that a strong wind could sweep away. All the women here were beautiful. How could Galeren think her pretty?