The Laird's Bastard Daughter (The Highland Warlord Series Book 1)

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The Laird's Bastard Daughter (The Highland Warlord Series Book 1) Page 23

by Tessa Murran


  ‘Aye, straight into the English camp.’

  ‘I told you, I fought for the Scots, and I make no apologies to you for being torn in my loyalties, or for what life has reduced me to. The rights and wrongs of a fight come down to how you look at it. The English would have slaughtered us, had we followed the Bruce, and my father couldn’t abide him anyway. It’s not easy to be loyal when there is an English dagger at your throat. My clan was forced to pick a side, the wrong side as it turns out. But that’s the way life is, sometimes you have to choose, and sometimes you have to lose.’

  ‘You think you are clever, with that quick mouth of yours. You are a fool who will most likely not survive the night.’ Cormac cut Will free of his bonds and pushed him forwards. ‘Now go, before I end your worthless life.’ As Will disappeared into the trees, Cormac shouted after him. ‘Find some loyalty and a cause boy, or you will end badly.’

  Will turned and stretched out his arms with a big smirk on his face. ‘I am my own cause Cormac Buchanan, I will find my own way.’ He blew a kiss. ‘Be sure to give that to your sister for me...many times over.’

  With that, he disappeared into the gloomy embrace of the forest.

  ***

  Ravenna was not in the tent when Cormac limped back into camp, and nor was Morna, or Lyall. Before he could go in search of them, a messenger came to tell him that the garrison at Stirling had surrendered and that the King had summoned him.

  Cormac sighed and told the messenger to fetch him a horse.

  When Cormac got to the great hall of Stirling Castle, Robert sat surrounded by the great and the good, and some a lot less worthy. He was wallowing in his victory, perched high in his impregnable stronghold, like an eagle in its eyrie. From his fortress overlooking the mountains and valley, Robert had the Scottish Highlands at his back and the English border before him. Now he could take the fight to the English, and deliver Scots justice for all the years of tyranny, and for all the blood and misery they had caused his family.

  As Cormac pushed forward through the throng of sycophants, he saw that Black Douglas was by the King’s side, his tunic stiff with dried blood, his hands still black with it too.

  A young man stepped forward and knelt at the King’s feet. Cormac froze as he recognised Baodan’s youngest son, Ranulph. A fragment of their conversation drifted over in the babble of voices all around him.

  ‘Your father died with honour, for Scotland,’ said the King. ‘You should be proud to carry his name, now that you are Laird of Clan Gowan.’

  ‘I am, Your Grace, and my clan’s loyalty is yours, as it always was under my father.’

  The young man was dismissed with an impatient wave of a hand. As he backed away and then pushed his way out of the crowd, he came face to face with Cormac. In Ranulph’s eyes, there was recognition and a spark of shame. His face reddened, but then he recovered himself and his expression turned cold and dispassionate. Under Cormac’s steely gaze, his bravado quickly withered, and he drew back and melted into the crowd.

  Cormac felt a fury rise in him. He had thought the feud would end with Baodan’s death, but he had been wrong. It lived and breathed through his son.

  Cormac watched Ranulph until he was out of sight and turned back to the King. He saw Black Douglas bend and whisper something in his ear. Panic rose up in him. They were not safe here, some of Baodan’s men would have survived the battle and Ranulph might just be foolish enough to try to succeed where his father had failed. Already, he had enough balls to pass off his father’s cowardice and treachery as heroism. He may be young, and new to his power, but it took guts for Ranulph Gowan to lie to Robert the Bruce.

  Cormac felt eyes on him. He turned to see the King watching him. He would have seen the exchange with Ranulph, no doubt. The King narrowed his eyes and gave a curt nod of his head in his direction, and then he smiled.

  Cormac caught his breath. Robert knew. He knew what Baodan had done, without a doubt. He might not use this knowledge as an excuse to crush Clan Gowan now, but later, when he had used their men at arms to win his war with the English, he would make them pay their dues for their treachery. Robert always remembered his friends, and he never forgot a slight against him. Scotland was already littered with the dust of those who had ended up on his bad side.

  ***

  Cormac rushed back to camp after the audience with the King. It took him a while to find Ravenna, who had gone off to help with the wounded. She was surrounded by men lying limp and bloody, like broken dolls. He called her name, and she stood up slowly, on tired legs and came over to him. There was blood all over her hands, and suddenly it hit him that he was heartily sick of the sight of it.

  He took hold of her and led her to a quiet spot in the soft shade of a tree. He braced himself and tried to find the right words. ‘We are leaving at dawn. The King has given me leave to go. Any of our men who are injured can follow on when they are sufficiently recovered. The King has ordered that they be taken into the castle and tended.’

  ‘Good. I will be so glad to leave this place Cormac, it is beginning to smell of death. Let’s go and find the others.’

  ‘Aye, but first, there is something I must tell you, and it is no easy thing. Why have you not asked me, Ravenna, about your father?’

  She looked away from him for a moment. ‘I did not ask because I did not know how to feel about it. Was I to rejoice over his death, or mourn his living? Whichever it was, it is evil of me to think that way.’

  ‘Ravenna I…’

  ‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’

  ‘Aye, and his eldest son too. I heard the King address Ranulph as Laird Gowan.’

  ‘Somehow, I felt my father was gone.’ Ravenna took a deep breath. ‘Did you do it?’

  ‘No, in all the chaos an English arrow took him, right between the eyes, as he was trying to cut me down.’

  She squeezed her eyes tight shut, and then let out a huge sob and put her fist to her mouth.

  ‘Ravenna, are you alright. This is hard, I know.’

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe I am free of him. And I am glad Cormac, glad it wasn’t you who killed him, for I told you to do it and, if you had, then his blood would have been on my hands and on yours. But now, we are both free of that guilt.’

  ‘Defending yourself and what is yours is not something to be guilty about. I would have killed him a hundred times over to keep my family safe, to keep you safe. Although I fear we are not entirely safe even now.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Your half-brother, Ranulph, has found a way to present Baodan’s death in battle as heroic, in defence of Scotland. The King is not fooled I think, but still, Ranulph is a Gowan, he will want vengeance.’

  ‘But he is young, scarce eighteen I think,’ said Ravenna.

  ‘Aye, but young men grow up to be their fathers. What is he like, this young Gowan?’

  ‘Quiet, a thinker, a scholar, as far as I remember. It is many years since I saw him, and he was indifferent to me anyway, a bastard, not one of his own sisters. He has not seen much fighting, but he has a strong will, I think. He always stood, unnoticed, in the shadow cast by his older brother, the warrior, the leader of men, so no one really noticed him. But I think he could be more dangerous because of it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he had time to watch and learn, and because no one knows what kind of man he is.’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Three days later, on a glorious summer day, they rode into Beharra. Cormac had never been so happy to see its stout, grey walls. As they rode into the yard, he could hear the clang of the smithy’s hammer echo around the yard, scaring the chickens, who clucked and ran in a flurry of feathers across the path of his horse. He felt the whine of the wind coming off the hills, the smell of gorse and heather carried with it. It had never been so sweet before, this ordinary, everyday life he was coming back to.

  He glanced over at Morna, who had been withdrawn and far away for most of the journey. Having heard th
e tale of their capture by outlaws, and the disreputable Will O’Neill, he was surprised she was not more terrified, but she seemed to have endured her adventures with remarkable strength. He had been intrigued though, as to why they would have been freed by their captors, two bonnie young women, without a protector. They were lucky they had not been molested or killed. Ravenna had brushed it off by saying that Will had taken pity on Morna’s youth and innocence. To Cormac, he had seemed more the type to take advantage of it.

  Ramsay appeared at the main door and hobbled carefully forward, wincing as he moved. Cormac rushed up to him and took him by the shoulders, as much to steady him as embrace him.

  ‘Your face is the colour of chalk, my friend, you should be in your bed,.’

  ‘I was almost emptied of blood, Lord, but you know I cannot stand to be idle.’

  ‘Well ‘tis a good thing to see you have no fever.’

  Ramsay looked at the floor. ‘Tis thanks to your wife and her healing that I am still breathing.’

  ‘And ‘tis thanks to you that she still breathes, too, I hear. You have my gratitude, Ramsay, for saving Ravenna.’

  ‘I…I should have been at your side at Bannockburn, and I would beg forgiveness of you and her for my doubting…’

  ‘All forgotten now,’ said Ravenna, who had come up beside them. She took her hand and placed it on Ramsay’s head. ‘Good, it is cool to the touch. But you should not be up and about, or you will tear open the wound again, and I will have no end of trouble with it.’

  ‘I wanted to make the place ready for your arrival. I am glad to see you all safe home again, and heroes deserve a decent welcome.’

  Cormac clapped his hand heavily on Ramsay’s back. ‘You too are a hero Ramsay, and we must think of a suitable reward for your bravery.’

  Ramsay’s eyes flicked to Morna, smiling down on him from her horse, and then quickly away, as Ravenna leaned into him and tentatively kissed his cheek. They both looked a little confused and disconcerted at her action.

  Ramsay quickly turned and barked at a man to take the horses. ‘Come, come inside where there is food and drink, and take some rest,’ he said.

  ***

  Hours later, when he had been all around Beharra talking to its people, receiving their good wishes, Cormac climbed to the top of the keep to have a moment’s quiet. He emerged from the gloomy stairway onto the battlements, bathed red-gold as the sun sank below the distant hills.

  ‘Come and join me, brother, and break my solitude.’ It was Lyall, leaning over the ramparts with a strange look on his face.

  ‘Are you happy to be home at last?’ said Cormac.

  ‘I don’t really know. Listen, there’s nothing, apart from the rustle and tweet of birds finding a roost for the night. All is so quiet and calm up here, yet in my head, I can still hear the battle going on. I cannot seem to rid myself of it. It is a kind of torture.’

  ‘I told you it will take time. Why not go and find that girl with the yellow hair, the one who has a foolish fancy for you, and take your mind off your troubles.’

  ‘I already have, and she didn’t. I must find another way.’

  ‘What were you thinking of doing, throwing yourself from the battlements?

  ‘Don’t think I haven’t considered it but, no, nothing so foolish and wasteful. We still have the English to fight, for they will not just give up just because of one defeat, and God, how I hate every last one of them, deep in my guts.’

  ‘Lyall, you need to hate your enemy, but not so much that it eats your heart and leaves no room for anything else.’

  ‘I heard talk that the King wants to push into the north of England. When he goes, I will go too.’

  ‘But I thought you’d had your fill of fighting?’

  ‘I am a second son, Cormac, it is my place to go out into the world and seek my wealth and get a name for myself. What better way to do that than joining in the fight to free Scotland? You will have a child soon, your place is here, putting strength back into our clan. Besides, I think I have done so much killing now that I cannot stop, I am drunk on blood, I have a taste for it, and I am run mad with it.’

  Cormac knew his own efforts at Bannockburn would be richly rewarded, with respect and riches and the King’s trust. He seemed to have gained a great deal by their glorious victory. But for Lyall, Bannockburn had only taken from him. His lust for life was gone, and something cold had taken its place, a wall had come up. Cormac looked into Lyall’s green eyes and searched for his brother there, but could no longer find him. Strange that you could win a battle and yet still lose.

  ‘I will be sad to see you go, Lyall, truly.’

  ‘I am in no haste, I will wait a few months if I can, and get my strength back first.’

  Cormac stood in silence with his brother for a few moments and then went to find Ravenna.

  ***

  The light had almost gone out of the day, but the night was hot and humid. In her chamber, Ravenna cast off her tunic and washed and washed to get the grime of the road off of her. Dressed only in her kirtle, she stood looking out of the open shutters, down the valley, as a soft breeze wafted in.

  The door banged open, and Cormac came in. He smiled and came over to her, pushing her damp hair off her forehead and kissing it. ‘I see you are ahead of me,’ he said

  ‘What?’

  ‘You are a good wife, anticipating my needs and already undressing for me.’

  ‘It’s not for you, I’m hot that’s all.’

  ‘You are about to get hotter,’ he said, nuzzling his dark head into her neck and biting it.

  She squealed and went over to the bed to fold her clothes. When she glanced back at Cormac, over her shoulder, he was tearing his tunic off over his head. Ravenna decided the view inside her chamber of her husband’s magnificent, bare chest was far better than the one outside and went over to close the shutters. Judging by the look on Cormac’s face, it was about to get noisy, and she didn’t want anyone to hear.

  She felt warm hands on her hips, then one slid round to her tummy. ‘Will he mind, do you think, if I go inside you?’

  She twisted free and went around the side of the bed, smiling. ‘The bairn won’t, but I will, for you are, most probably, filthy from the yard.’

  ‘That’s just how you like me.’

  ‘Is that so?’ She laughed and went back to folding her clothes.

  Her heart was all a-flutter. It had been a while since they had lain together, the last time, in anguish, at Cormac leaving to fight, and the danger he had to face. It had been a desperate coupling, tinged with sadness and fear. They had never been at one with each other, until now, and Ravenna was suddenly nervous of him. She desperately wanted Cormac to make love to her, for since her pregnancy had taken hold, all she could think about was lying with him. Now he only had to touch her, and she melted. It felt a little shameful.

  Cormac came up behind her, lifting up her kirtle and bent her over the bed, pulling her against him. He put his hand on her cheek and twisted her mouth to his. He whispered in her ear, ‘I’ll go slow and gentle, my love, just the way you like it.’

  ***

  Later, lying in the darkness, her face in his, arms thrown carelessly across each other, something occurred to Ravenna. Their lovemaking had been different somehow, not just because she loved Cormac, as she had acknowledged this to herself some time ago. It was because there was no guilt, since she knew he had not killed Brandan. The thing she had buried away in her mind clawed its way to the surface.

  ‘Cormac, what do you think is wrong with Morna? She was so quiet on the ride home?’

  ‘Probably seen too much for a girl her age.’

  ‘You don’t think she is pining for that Will fellow, do you?’

  ‘She’d better not be, he was part of a band of outlaws, he should swing from a gibbet as should all of those men who took you.’

  ‘Aye, they were a bad lot. When you freed him, was he alone? Did he have any others with him?’

&nb
sp; ‘There were no others. When I told them to spare him, he certainly didn’t speak up for anybody else. I should think they are scattered or lying dead at Bannockburn. Why do you ask?’

  ‘No reason, they were just frightening, that’s all. I hope they are gone, and God has punished them.’

  ‘I’m sure he has. You are safe now, my love.’

  So, she might never know if Brandan had fallen at Bannockburn and she did not know how to feel about that. She should tell Cormac and was sure that, one day, she would, but not yet.

  What if he went looking for Brandan, and put himself in danger by doing so. The rival for her affections was a dead man, in his mind. If Cormac were now to learn that man lived and breathed still, what would he do? This little bit of peace and safety they had now was so precious that she didn’t want to risk it. What if he got jealous and believed a part of her heart still belonged to another. It did not, Cormac had dominion over all of it, and she had such love for him she could scarce contain it. In fact, Ravenna was thinking of all the ways she would show it to him, from this day forth. She would love him to distraction, this dark, brave man of hers, fiercely and forever.

  In return for that, surely she deserved to hold on to one last secret, if only for a little while.

  Epilogue

  Beharra Castle

  Winter 1314

  Cormac paced up and down outside his chamber in an agony of helplessness. ‘It’s been hours,’ he snapped.

  ‘These things take time,’ said Lyall, calmly picking at his nails with a knife.

  A low moan sounded from within, and Cormac barged to the door and then stopped dead.

  ‘Steady now brother, they’ll not want you in there. Those withered, old crones will just hiss at you. Best stay here, out of the way.’

  ‘But she is suffering, I cannot bear it.’

  ‘If Ravenna can bear it, so can you. Your son will come when he is good and ready, and not before.’

  ‘What the hell do you know about birthing babies, you’re not even wed? I doubt you even know how to make one.’

 

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