Surrender

by Sophia Johnson

  "Horrid? Not when ye have every woman at Clibrick and Kinbrace after yer cock!"

  "We must move beneath her, as close to the wall as possible in case she falls."

  "Aye. 'Tis a good plan."

  "Keep close beside me in case I dinna get a good grasp on her. The old seer was right. Elyne will be much harder to catch than a blacksmith's hammer!" He looked over his shoulder and called out, "Colyne, go to the gate and demand entrance."

  "I'll go too," Brian said. "Two fists are better than one if the man is aged and hard of hearing."

  Brian, with Squat snuggled in a sling around his neck, looked up then followed Colyne. His face looked strained. Seeing the worry in his friend's expression frightened Graemme even more. The man was always full of laughter and never seemed to care a whit about danger.

  Squat recognized his mistress, for he started barking and trying to get out of his makeshift carrier. He scratched Brian's arms and whined until Brian took him from the sling and leaned over in his saddle to place him safely on the ground. The dog raced to the wall and barked up at his mistress, most likely demanding she come pet him.

  Graemme didn't dare take his eyes from Elyne's face. She finally seemed to take in her surroundings with more interest when she heard Squat barking. When Colyne and Brian banged their fists on the gatehouse door and shouted for the gatekeeper, her eyes opened wide. Graemme inched his horse even closer and pulled to a stop directly beneath her. He dropped the reins across his horse's neck, which signaled him to stand still. Magnus moved his mount a small distance to the left of Graemme's. If she fell and Graemme missed her, he would be in position to catch her.

  She had never been more beautiful. The sun lighting her brown hair caused the fiery auburn to shine much like torchlight. Her tall, slender body looked ripe for the taking. Graemme and Magnus moved in their saddles, leaving only the tips of their boots in the stirrups so they could stand with arms outreached.

  Graemme's broadsword was in the way and bounced against his left leg. He reached up and drew it from its holder. When he did, the sun seemed to turn it to a beacon. Flashes of light streaked off it.

  Elyne's intriguing brown eyes opened wide as she gaped down at the men. Recognition finally shone there, as well as horror. She forced her gaze from him long enough to look over the men below as if searching for a familiar face. Probably Ranald. He'd bet his horse on it! When she didn't see her brother, her eyes filled with panic.

  "Elyne, get back from the edge," he shouted as the other men yelled at the slow gatekeeper. When she didn't obey him, he shouted at her again. "Get back and listen to yer husband," he yelled. He felt his face tighten in a scowl, a look which told his men if they didn't instantly obey, they would be in deep shite!

  Never did he expect a scowl from him would cause a woman to scream and totter, setting off a fearsome event!

  Elyne heard the sounds of mailed fists pounding on solid wood and angry men shouting. And strangely, a dog frantically barked and yipped. It wasn't the type of sounds she would expect to hear in this quiet, prayerful community. Wind was blowing her hair. Had she left her cell window open to the night air before she went to sleep? It was cold. She reached for the thin blanket but touched stone instead. Strange. Her cot was far from the wall.

  She blinked her eyes and realized she was tottering on the edge of a crenelated wall, much as she had at Raptor not many days afore. The stone she touched was still cold from the night air. She heard someone shouting at her, but the sun was in her eyes.

  Taking her hand, she shielded her eyes. And gasped. Below was a small army of knights. Why were they here? They usually sought a place to sleep as night fell. The stiff wind picked up and teased a standard until it lifted to fly upright.

  God help her. The man-wolf had tracked her down!

  But now there were two of them. His brother. Much alike, though a little older and even sterner. Her man-wolf yelled again for her to move back. Back where? She wobbled. Afeared to chance turning her head to see where she was, she hesitated. Before she could decide what to do, he drew his heavy sword. Light flashed and streaked from it. It seemed to seek her out, for it reached her eyes.

  Heaven help her. Her dream at Raptor had come to life!

  Horror filled her as she lost her balance. Her hands flew out to grab onto stone, but they clawed empty air.

  Screaming, she toppled off the tower. She was falling to her death. When she struck something hard as stone, she expected to die. Male voices shouted but she couldn't make out the words. The loudest was near her ear as sturdy, muscled arms grabbed hold of her shoulders. Her head cracked hard against something and her legs tangled with a horse's head. The animal stamped and sidled.

  "Shite!"

  Graemme's voice.

  The two tilted back and forth and rolled to the left side of the saddle. It was as if a giant hand meant to shake them senseless and nearly threw them off the horse. Another set of arms grasped her hips and legs. They had not finished falling. 'Twas a short distance from saddle to grass. They landed with a thud, amidst more cursing. Two hard bodies cushioned her from the ground, one with arms around her upper body, another cradling her hips and legs. Her forehead hit something softer than before.

  Their legs tangled with the horses' legs, but both men barked orders for the mounts to stand still. Battle-hardened, they obeyed.

  Elyne opened her eyes. She squeezed them shut again and wished she could rub them. Had she traveled back in time? Except when she'd landed atop Graemme before, her head didn't feel like it had struck an anvil. And before, she'd stared into startled brown eyes. Now all she saw was a large bump on Graemme's forehead and blood flowing quite impressively from his nose.

  "What in Hades were ye trying to do, woman! Fly like a hawk?" The man's voice nearly snarled at her, he was so angry. "This habit of knocking my brother on his back has to stop."

  She felt the man release her hips and legs. She was able to raise her head to stare down at Graemme, who appeared to be senseless. His arms still tightly gripped her to him, and blood flowed down the sides of his cheeks.

  "I think he broke his beautiful nose!" Elyne tried to pull her shift closer to staunch the bleeding.

  "He broke his nose? More likely 'twas yer hard head. But Graemme will be pleased ye think his nose beautiful." His voice no longer sounded angry but a bit amused.

  She near jumped up, if she'd been able, when the voice's hands pulled her clothing down over her buttocks and legs. Squat tried to wrench the material from him and near tore her shift.

  "Stop it, Squat!"

  Was it her who spoke or him? Nay. 'Twas him. Squat had shut his mouth and looked up at the man and not her.

  "Tsk! Ye need not show the men how fortunate, or mayhap unfortunate, my brother has been in catching a bride."

  Laughter was in his voice, but beneath the tone was a hint of worry.

  "Come, let me help ye up afore the good sisters think something is happening between ye right here for all to witness. Fortunately, ye knocked us off our mounts onto a grassy area."

  Hearing him mention the sisters, she turned her head and saw women in their habits running toward them, some carrying shovels or brooms, others buckets of anything they had gotten their hands on when they heard the commotion. Leading them was a visiting monk carrying a broadsword and looking like he could demolish any intruders with one hefty swing. Behind him was Brother Michael, whom she'd found most enjoyable the night before for he'd regaled her with stories of Ranald as a monk.

  Graemme's arms still clutched her to him. When Magnus on one side and Colyne on the other, tried to open them so they could lift Elyne off him, Squat snarled and barked. He headed straight for Magnus' arse.

  "You had best fend off the wee dog, else you won't sit for several days," Brian warned him.

  "And ye had best catch him afore he does if ye dinna want yer arse kicked from here to the Highlands! Ye were responsible for him."

  Why were Magnus and Colyne arguing about Squat?
Graemme felt something hot running down the sides of his cheeks and opened his eyes. He'd though Squat had used him for his own purposes, but Brian already had him in his arms.

  He hurt all over. Had Lucifer been there to poke him with pitchforks and pile stones on him? His ears rang and his eyes started to clear. Someone was tugging his arms. Another was crawling all over him. Pray God it was a lass! Surely, if some simpering man took advantage of his senseless state, it would be a mortal sin!

  "Graemme, ye can let Elyne go now. She's safely on the ground, thanks to yer soft body!"

  Magnus voice! He looked. His gaze clashed with Elyne's beautiful dark brown eyes. Everything started to make sense to him now. He sighed and let his arms relax. He felt a cold breeze when Colyne and Magnus carefully lifted her off him.

  "Someone cover her. She has a habit of running around near nekid for all to see!"

  "I do not! Ye keep showing up where ye're not wanted and battering me!"

  "Here now, ye have a lifetime to fight." Magnus turned to the closest nun. "Please, Sister, tend Elyne to see she isna hurt and is properly dressed." He looked at the two men. The giant was Elyne's brother's friend. He didna know who the other monk was. "Does either of ye know of healing? Catching the lady seems to have caused my brother some injuries."

  "I am Brother Michael from Kelso. I have some training from our former Brother Ranald. This is Brother Hugo," He said as he came forward and knelt beside Graemme. "He came to Kelso as a wounded Crusader sick to the soul from slaughter. Brother Ranald cured his wounds and mind. Hugo decided to become one of us."

  As the monk talked, his hands gently probed over Graemme, feeling for broken bones or other serious injuries.

  "His nose is not as straight as before. And her elbow cracked against his head when he first caught her." He chuckled and glanced at Magnus. "The three of you looked like people with cords attached while someone jerked you every which way."

  Brother Michael paid particular heed to Graemme's forehead. "We'll need some cold cloths there and an elixir to ward off pains in the head." He pulled a white linen cloth from a pocket of his robe and held it to Graemme's nose. "We'll need to do a little work on his nose. I dinna think 'tis broken, but she dealt him a blow hard enough to cause bleeding and mayhap some swelling. It should heal with naught but a slight mark."

  Asking Graemme questions as his hands traveled over Graemme's neck, arms and felt over his ribs and stomach. Finally, Ranald's giant friend Brother Hugo helped Magnus to stand Graemme on his feet.

  "Check my horse, Colyne. I came down on him pretty hard when I stood to catch her," Magnus said.

  "Already have. Only a small scratch on his left cheek where her foot struck him. I'll put something on it when we unsaddle."

  "Unsaddle? No need. We leave as soon as Elyne's properly clothed." Graemme ordered.

  He swayed back and forth when Brother Hugo let go of his arm.

  "Still think you will ride this day? You wouldn't get a league away afore you fell off your saddle…or bled to death." Brother Michael chuckled. "And I think you have much explaining to do to Mother Cecelia."

  The monk was right. While the sisters tended Elyne for her bruises and cuts, Graemme and Magnus followed the monks to the Infirmary. Brother Michael cautiously pulled the cloth from Graemme's nostrils.

  "Let us see if your nose is broken or just had a hard knock." He watched as a slow trickle ran down toward Graemme's lips. "Nay. Her head isn't as hard as you thought."

  He dipped a clean cloth in cold water and handed it to Graemme.

  "Here. Hold this on it while I check you over. It should stop the bleeding."

  He had Graemme bend and straighten his arms and legs, felt every bone in his spine and checked every muscle.

  Graemme answered Brother Michael's questions of, "Does this hurt?" with a muffled voice. Finally, he threw the cold cloth onto the table.

  Thankfully, nothing had broken when Graemme slammed onto the ground. The most serious injury was a gash on the outside of his left thigh where he'd scraped against a sharp rock when landing. Graemme gritted his teeth while Brother Michael cleaned dirt out of the wound, flooded it with an astringent made from moneywort. After placing a pad over the injury, he bandaged it closed with precision, just tight enough his flesh would heal together but not too tight to cause trouble. When he finished, he massaged ointment into sore muscles and checked Graemme's bruises.

  "Brother Michael must have magic in his fingers. I feel as rested as if I'd slept a bit," he told Magnus as they went to meet with the head of the convent alone. Well, not alone, for Brothers Michael and Hugo were there leaning against a wall. Elyne's brother Ranald had appointed Hugo Guardian of Mary Magdalen while Muriele was there.

  He took his duties seriously, for he didn't let Graemme out of his sight. 'Twas strange. For such a big man, his touch was gentle as he helped Graemme.

  The spacious, sunny room was bare but for necessities. A small table with two chairs waited beneath the window. A pewter pitcher, its sides sweating from cold water, looked inviting. Small pewter cups circled it and a basin sat just a hand's-width away. Statues of the Virgin Mary, Jesus and various saints stood in niches in the room. A single candle in a glass holder flamed in front of each.

  A desk covered with missives took up half of one wall with Mother Cecelia's wooden armchair in place. A charcoal sketch of Jesus on the cross hung behind it. Two straight backed chairs awaited before the desk.

  Graemme looked at Magnus and again glanced around the room. "I have seen the Abbot's office at Melrose Abbey. It seems an Abbot lives with more comfort than a fragile woman."

  "I met Mother Cecelia when I came for Muriele. She is capable, not fragile, by any means," Magnus whispered to Graemme as footsteps approached the door.

  "Please. Take a seat," Mother Cecelia said as she entered.

  The men politely waited until she sat before they did. The two monks leaned against the wall and watched the room in a protective way.

  "Fragile?" Mother Cecelia's voice sounded surprised when she sat down. "Nay, we are strong women here. Ranald of Raptor can tell you of us. We kept his wife safe from him for a sennight or more while his army camped outside the walls."

  "Surely a former monk wouldna have used force to enter!" Magnus looked shocked.

  "Nay, he would not. We released her into the care of monks from Kelso Abbey who came to settle the dispute. Ranald disguised himself as a penitent bound to silence. A good thing, too. Anyone who has heard him chanting the psalms at Matins would recognize his voice."

  "Were you not furious for his deception?" Graemme couldn't imagine this new brother-by-law doing such a devious thing.

  "Nay. I knew from the first."

  "Then why did ye allow him to leave with her?"

  "Brother Ranald is the most honorable monk or man I have had the pleasure of knowing," Mother Cecelia said. "He protected Lady Muriele by paying much more than necessary for her keep. He had the Abbot of Kelso send Brother Hugo to us as her guardian." She raised her left brow at Graemme. "By the way, Brother Ranald was no more devious than your brother. 'Tis the reason Brother Hugo keeps Sir Magnus in his sight. He was much shamed when Sir Magnus was able to spirit her away."

  Magnus looked at the big man and nodded. "I regret the distress I caused ye."

  Brother Hugo inclined his head and crossed his arms inside his wide brown sleeves.

  "Word travels quickly to us here in Northumbria. I have heard of two brothers, Magnus and Graemme. One is righteous to the bone and will not bend. The other as honorable but lets common sense guide him." She stopped and stared at them.

  Magnus and Graemme felt the urge to squirm on their seats, knowing they must both appear as fools to her.

  "I knew you were Magnus, "she said, looking at Graemme's brother. "You look to have the gall to hire a young woman, enter a convent and kidnap the lass who sought sanctuary with us. By all rights, I should have Brother Michael and our faithful Guardian toss you back out the c
onvent gates."

  "What good would it do ye? We would still return. And anger makes us more powerful," Magnus said with a cheerful smile.

  "Agreed. So it is with me."

  "We came to retrieve my betrothed, Elyne," Graemme interrupted. "She has addled dreams which led her to fear me. All I intend to do is the honorable thing."

  "Her dreams are not addled, by any means. She envisioned the battle outside our gates when Sir Ranald fought off an evil baron who intended to murder Lady Catalin," Mother Cecelia said.

  "Not foolish? When she thought I was a wolf turned man and was going to tear out her throat?" Graemme raised his brows and awaited her answer.

  "Well, now, she may have been wrong. But you must admit your standard was what caused her to picture you as a wolf."

  "Aye. And ye must admit if I intended to murder her, I would have let her fall." He leaned forward to brace his arms on his knees, but winced when the movement disturbed his wound. He sat straight again. "'Tis more likely the daft girl and her father will be the end of me."

  "Nay. She will soften once ye are married," Magnus said. "Muriele hated me for something I failed to say when I left Kinbrace. Once she knew I loved her, she was free to love me in return."

  "Aye, but ye are in love. In my case, there will be a wedding or I lose, uh, part of my personal treasures."

  "You must pay if you do not marry Elyne? I do not understand." Mother Cecelia said, a slight frown creasing her brow.

  Graemme's face turned hot as the blood dripping from his nose. Magnus snorted trying not to laugh aloud. Fortunately, Graemme remembered the missive Chief Broccin had written. He pretended he hadn't heard her question and rose to his feet. Fumbling with the wide belt holding his kilt around his waist, he withdrew the message from a fold in the leather. He hoped to distract her by producing Chief Broccin's letter saying Ranald had given his approval for the wedding.

  "I should have given ye this sooner." He handed her the small, folded parchment with a raptor on the seal. "I canna help but be curious about all I've heard of this brother of Elyne's. Her father said the day we wed, I would have the devil as my brother-by-law. I dinna see how he would say such a thing while ye talk about his son as an honorable man."