“Don’t throw me over, don’t. I beg ye. Mercy.”
Sean fisted the material of his tunic and held him. Adam’s feet hit the wall and he tried to climb back inside the crenellation. But Sean wouldn’t let him and kept him out as far as his arms would reach.
“Mercy? I have none for the likes of you. Look at her. Look! She will never be yours. You will never hurt her.”
Adam’s voice became sorrowful, “I won’t, I vow. Just pull me back.”
“Where’d you put the lass, Reina? Tell me or I swear by God, I’ll drop you like a hot skewer.”
Adam huffed. “I … I left her by the loch, near her father’s land.”
None of the Gunn guardsmen spoke until then.
“Colm and I will go and find her, Sean,” James said, and they left the rampart.
Grey approached. “Just toss the bugger and be done with it. He’ll be dead by the time he reaches the ground. Why bloody our swords?”
“Nay, nay, I beseech ye. Don’t. Anything but that.” Adam continued to try to gain the wall, but Sean shook him.
“Such a death would be too good for him,” Duff said. “Bring him over so I can thrust my dagger in the fiend’s heart. I don’t mind a wee bit of blood on my dagger.”
“Nay, I want to pierce the fucker with my sword,” Kenneth said. “Let me do the honors, Sean. He won’t be hurting any lassies any longer. That I vow.”
Sean pulled Adam inside the wall and tossed him to the stones. Frances swore he’d stomp on the man, but he remained still, his legs braced and his arms folded by his chest. He appeared formidable and fearsome.
She wanted to go to him, but kept by the wall, wary to intrude. Now she knew what James meant about when Sean was angered, for she’d never seen him so riled or frightening.
Adam slouched on the stones. He sniveled and wept, keeping his eyes averted.
Sean pulled his sword free and turned to his friends. “No one shall have this honor but me.” When he turned back to Adam, he’d gained his knees and was about to flee, but Sean thrust his thick sword, and it went clear through Adam’s stomach.
Frances turned away, for she wasn’t wont to see such a horrid thing as a man being killed. Even though she knew Adam deserved it, seeing a man dying was such a tormenting thing.
She heard the gnarled shout from Adam, and then opened her eyes to see the other Gunns move forward. Frances held her stomach and tried not to look.
Then she felt Sean take her in his arms. “Are you harmed? Did he injure you?”
“Nay, he didn’t. I’m well.” She hugged him in return, so happy he’d come. “I feared you wouldn’t return.”
“I knew he was coming to you and I never rode so fast in my life.”
“That we can attest to,” Grey said. “Fire was after his arse and I deem he practically killed his horse with wanting to get to you.”
Frances didn’t retort, because all she could do was look in her husband eyes. He’d calmed somewhat, but she caressed the tension in his arms. “I love you, Sean Gunn.”
He squeezed her close and grunted. “Come, let us inside. Duff, Kenneth, you’ll remove the rubbish?”
Kenneth leaned forward and grabbed at Adam’s garments. Before anyone moved in to assist him, he pitched Adam’s body over the crenellation. The Gunns stood and looked over the wall, the only sound she heard was the wind.
“Done,” Kenneth said, and hastily swiped his hands as if attesting he was finished his task.
“Retrieve the remains and toss him off the same cliff as his brother was laid.” Sean put an arm around her back and led her inside.
Frances couldn’t stop shaking, and even as the warmth of their chamber penetrated, the images wouldn’t recede. “I never ever influenced him. I didn’t deem his affections ran that deep. He was deranged, wasn’t he?”
“I can’t blame him for loving you, Frances. His actions, aye, and he deserved to be killed. You do know that?”
“I do and I don’t fault you for killing him. I’m pleased to know Winifred, Sabine, Reina and Alice are vindicated. I do deem you were kinder than I would’ve been.”
“For that, Frances Gunn of Hume, I love you.”
She laughed. “Only for that?”
“Mayhap a bit more than that. Verily, I’ll never allow harm to come to you. Even if saving you sends me to the hereafter.” He kissed the side of her face. “You swear you’re unharmed. If he hurt one hair on your head …”
“Nay he didn’t. I hoped you would come and so I tried to keep him talking. He killed Robert.” Frances saddened at the thought that Robert died trying to protect her. She never would have expected that.
“I can’t say I’m displeased because if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t be mine and yet …”
“I shouldn’t feel such guilt, but I do. I hope Robert understands.”
Sean nudged her chin, and kissed her tenderly. “I’m sure he does.”
Ermintrude ran into their chamber and jumped upon the bedding. “Da, Da, Alvin made me a new story book. Aye, the one Momma gaved me is filled.”
Frances took the small book Alvin made for her and sniffled. She tried to abate the tears that threatened to fall, but emotion still clogged her throat. “It’s lovely. Did you thank Alvin?”
“Aye. Da will you tell me a story of your adventures?”
“Aye, I’ll tell you of the Selkie in our sea. It’s a wily creature and only a few have ever glimpsed it.” Sean took Ermintrude from the bed and hugged her. He appeared so different from the man out on the crenellation, who just held a man at death, from the man who took his sword and … Frances shook the image away.
“Will ye tell me now, Da?”
“Nay, I will this night when I come to say goodnight. Go and ready for supper, lass.”
Ermintrude ran out as soon as her feet touched the flooring. Frances grinned after her.
“Frances …” He watched her from a few feet away and she stepped before him.
“Aye? What is it?”
“I meant what I said. I do love you. From this day forward, we’ll have no danger in our lives and we’ll be able to live as a family should.” He set his forehead against her shoulder and seemed to shake.
Frances smoothed a hand over his hair and breathed his scent in. “I believe you, Sean. I am glad, because we’ve had enough peril to last a lifetime.”
EPILOGUE
Saint Swithin Day
Gunn land, Scotland
July 1224
The celebration was in full swing as all those within the Gunn clan came to celebrate Saint Swithin’s Day. It was said that if the old saint’s bones were left alone, it’d be fair and sunny, and if he were moved or bothered, it would rain buckets.
Frances sat back and watched Sean’s clansmen and women with affection for they’d been so kind and welcoming since she arrived.
Never had she seen such generosity or caring by so many. She now knew why he missed being there with them. Not only were the people loving, but the land was enchanting. The Highlands held such beauty and she’d forever keep the place in her heart.
They’d just returned from the daylong trek and made it back in time for the feast of the Saint. Sean had taken her to the sea where they’d spent the day swimming, and he’d told her of his voyages aboard the boats, and of the trading missions. How she envied him the adventures.
Ermintrude sat with the children, and Sunny, Grey and Bree’s eldest daughter, was teaching them a song. They sang:
‘Saint Swithin’s day if thou does rain, for forty days it will remain. Saint Swithin’s day if thou be fair, for forty days twill rain no more.’
Her daughter’s gleeful laughter lightened her heart. Alvin sat beside her, and wouldn’t leave her side. Sean had become his champion and Alvin spoke more oft and didn’t mistrust them any longer. He’d pledged to become Trudy’s champion and vowed to protect his sister. The gesture filled Frances’ heart with love.
Sean sat on the other side of her, and the r
est of the Gunns with their families took up the rest of the space around the large table that had been set up outside.
“Aye this day is special to me and Bree. It was the day of our first betrothal, remember that day, my love?” Grey raised his cup. “Even though that day bore such heartache, I shall always remember it.”
They shared the story of how Bree had gone missing and what came to follow. Frances was charmed by the story, and it was obvious the Gunn laird loved his wife. His children, Greer and Grace, were now running alongside the other children, and James remarked how he’d have to keep an eye on them for they were wont to be everywhere at once.
Frances was so lulled by the sweet music played by some of the clansmen and the food that she’d eaten. She relaxed back against Sean’s chest, who set an arm around her waist.
“I’ve my own announcement. Frances and I … should we tell them?”
She laughed and nodded. “You have to now. I vow they won’t let you get away until you do. Look at their glares.”
“What news have you?” Kenneth asked. He sat beside his wife, Elisa, a beautiful woman who held a bairn in her arms. Michael looked akin to his father, with the same hair and eyes. He was a handsome bairn.
Frances liked the woman as soon as she’d met her, for she was certain Sean bore no romantic feelings for Elisa. Nor she him.
“We’ll be adding to our clan come next spring,” Sean said.
Everyone toasted their news.
Duff finally joined them, along with his wife, Kait. The small bairn she held wailed and seemed as dubious as his father. Frances smirked at her thought. Ranald continued to fuss until his burly father took him from his mother.
“Laird, I have a missive for you. The king’s messenger just delivered it.” Gordy set it in front of Grey.
“My thanks. Being you’re now commanding the keep’s guard, Gordy, I expect you’ll give me a report on the hour.” Grey frowned sternly at the young soldier.
“Aye, Laird. Nothing to report. I will return,” he said, and hastened away.
All watched as Grey opened and read the parchment.
“Ah, Christ Almighty, you see that look, aye?” Sean said to her. “I’ve only seen that look a few times. Something is bothering him. What does it say, Grey?”
At that moment Colm interjected. “Seems you’re not the only one who has news to share. I’ll be a father, Sean, come next spring too.”
Sean laughed and shoved Colm from across the table. “Oh? Kelsi, you let him in the bedchamber with you?”
She smiled and said, “I do on occasion.”
Frances loved their banter, but she was concerned about the missive. Grey didn’t look appeased by whatever news was given.
“Are ye going to tell us soon or are you going to keep it to yourself?” Sean nudged Grey.
“I’ve news from Alexander. He bids us be his emissary and travel to Wales. We’re to aid his comrade, the Iorwerth chieftain.”
Sean leaned forward, and Frances could see the look of concern on his face. “Aid how?”
Grey gripped the missive and then scrunched it until it was made into a ball. He then tossed it into the fire. “Never ye mind. I say we disregard it. Alexander is afar from here and he’d not know if we even went or not.”
“You jest, Grey. He’ll know. What aid do the Iorwerths need?”
“Alexander says his comrade’s clan was set upon at a peacekeeping meeting betwixt his and King Henry’s men. Over forty of his men were killed, when there wasn’t supposed to be weapons brought. Alexander bid us to go and add to his soldiers.”
“Does he only seek our aid or other Highland clans?”
“His missive doesn’t say, but I suspect only ours. If the king only demands our aid that is telling. I will speak of this with Donal Ross and gain his insight. He’ll know what’s going on.”
“What makes you think Donal will know? He hasn’t been to a council meeting in a few years and I doubt he’s seen Alexander.”
Grey pressed the back of his neck with his fingers, and appeared agitated. “Donal’s been my champion since I was a lad and I trust his opinion. He always knows what’s going on. I will seek his guidance.”
Sean sat back, he’d taken his cup and set about finishing his drink. Frances felt the tension of his body next to hers. She didn’t like hearing what Grey alluded to.
If that meant what she thought it meant, then their men would be sent to war.
*Author’s Note*
In my quest to enrich my stories, I’m always searching the web and books for a bit of history to add. The Fox and the Goose story was found on ElectricScotland.com and is indeed a Scottish children’s story.
As for the song sang by Mistress Ina, I came across the story of Finn Mac Cool and the ballad 'Am Bròn Binn' on EducationScotland.gov.uk
And so we end this story where we began, on Saint Swithin Day in One & Only. Don’t miss In Love With A Warrior, Book #4 in the Gunn Guardsman series (James and Emlyn’s story) which takes place in Wales. I’m finding the land and history of Wales to be as enchanting as Scotland’s. It very well may be more magical.
Happy historical reading.
Fondly,
Kara Griffin
Coming Soon
IN LOVE WITH A WARRIOR
Here’s a sneak peak:
Besotted by the Princess
James Gunn knew his heart would forever be hers when she bested him in combat. Never had he met a formidable foe such as Emlyn. Mayhap it was the way her body felt above his when she pinned him and he had no choice to submit to her…
A love coveted but forbidden
Princess Emlyn would allow no man to victor over her on the field, especially the arrogant, sexy highlander. It’d do well for him to know she wouldn’t fall at his feet and worship him. Aye, he was God-like in his appearance, strong, capable, and a protector: all the things she said she didn’t want in a man. She could be wrong.
All it took was one kiss
Neither could deny their attraction. When Emlyn is betrothed to her clan’s enemy to save her people from being besieged, she beseeches James for help. The only way she can escape her ill-fated destiny and have the man of her dreams is to wage war and triumph. Not so easy a feat for a warrior such as her.
Excerpt to follow.
~ Exclusive Advanced Reader Copy Excerpt ~
PROLOGUE
Pont Mynach, Gwynedd, Wales
May 1224
The peacekeeping gathering was set to take place on the eve of Beltane of all nights. Were they home, they’d be celebrating the spring festival, drinking, and wreaking havoc, and likely fornicating with the lassies in honor of fertility rituals. Aye, he could see them now: being merry, dancing, wearing their horse masks in in tribute to Rhiannon, the Goddess of fertility, and in honor of the rites of spring. But they were not home.
Bevan stood amongst his comrades, knowing this would not turn out as his lord, Llywelyn, predicted. Being the leader on this hopeless mission, Bevan tried to raise the spirits of his comrades. For this night, they’d die. They all knew the outcome.
There were too many combatants and they’d be overtaken. Many of the men of the Iorwerth clan left their weapons far a field for none would be so disrespectful to bring them to the meeting. He regretted following orders and leaving their weapons behind. He should’ve known the English wouldn’t obey their accord.
Within the stone circle, on the sacred ground, they’d come to an agreement.
The English supporters waited outside the circle but would not enter for they were leery and superstitious. For once their pagan customs and rituals aided them in a way they’d never considered.
From his position within the circle, Bevan could see the gleam from their swords, shields, and axes. Unarmed, outmanned, and in a quandary, they would have to meet their fate with bravery. Alas, they stood inside the stone circle with moments to live for the berserkers waited for the moment to attack.
Bevan didn’t want to disp
lease the gods by allowing such an atrocity to take place within the sacred monument. He had to come up with a plan to either thwart the enemy or have the fracas moved to another location, outside the stone circle. The only problem with that was they couldn’t get through the wall of Englishmen encircling their sanctuary.
With all the passion of his ancestors and the heart of a warrior, he raised his fist and yelled their call to arms. Even though not one had a weapon to use against their adversaries, they’d go into the fray and would hope for the best.
Sadly, that was not to be, as each of his comrades ran from the stone circle, through the wall of their shielded opponents. Most were cut down before they could make it through two men. Bevan ran with four of his closest comrades, and lost sight of them when the clash of steel against their chainmail reached his ears and rang true.
Victory was on the side of the English this night.
He was hit from behind with a hard object and fell to his knees. Bevan watched as the leader of their foes marched toward him. The man gripped his tunic with both hands and raised him to his feet. Beside him stood Gareth, the man Llewellyn banished months ago for his treason against their clan.
“Is this he?” their leader asked Gareth.
“Aye, ‘tis.” Gareth stood with a smirk on his face.
“He is betrothed to the warrior princess?”
“Aye, he is. Won’t be for long, my lord, will he?” Gareth snickered, and kicked the side of his leg, causing him to buckle.
Bevan tried to dislodge himself from the leader’s hold because no matter what happened to him this night, he wanted to kill the traitor.
It had been rumored that Gareth led their men into an ambush and most were killed. It could not be proved, and taking no risk, Llywelyn had him removed from their land, banished and never to return. Bevan now knew the truth.
A Highlander In Peril (Gunn Guardsman) Page 28