Hannah Howell
Page 19
Nairn sighed with relief. “Of course. Once treason taints the earl of Douglas and his followers, no betrothal will be honored. We must pray that Revan continues to elude those who are so eager to murder him.”
“He will.”
“He now has near to twenty men hunting him down.”
“That lot couldna catch a blind deer that had two wooden legs.” He grinned when Nairn laughed.
“True enough.” He grew serious and then sighed. “So, all we need to worry about is whether Revan has the wit to hold fast to that wee brown lass ere he loses all chance to do so.”
CHAPTER 15
The sound of Revan cursing fluently brought Tess out of her half-sleep. For two days they had ridden hard and fast, driven along by constant pursuit. At night they had slept huddled together, their passion killed by exhaustion and their stomachs nearly empty, for they had not dared to light even the smallest of fires. The hunt for them had been increased. The Douglas and Thurkettle had men everywhere. Now, within walking distance of Donnbraigh, they were encircled by their enemies. She had dismounted, sprawled on the ground, and left Revan to the chore of scouting out a possible approach to her kinsmen’s keep. Sitting up, she frowned at him and found little encouragement in his black expression.
“The whoresons are everywhere I turn,” he snapped as he sat down in front of her.
“I am surprised my uncle Silvio has allowed it.”
“He is probably as undermanned as Nairn. I believe he hasna ignored them completely. They dinna act as boldly as they did at Nairn’s. Your uncle may not have set any men after them, but I think he hasna let them run free, either.”
“Even so, there are enough about to hinder us?”
“More than enough. I couldna find a single path to Donnbraigh that didna have someone watching it. I canna be certain that waiting until nightfall will even help us this time.”
“Mayhaps we should just draw as near as we can and then bolt for the gates. I ken that isna the best of plans—”
“Nay, it isna, but ’tis the only one left to us.” He smiled faintly. “I but pondered a way to tell you about it and make it sound both clever and safe.”
Tess laughed softly. “Even ye canna find words for that, sweet-tongued devil though ye are.” She grew serious again. “Do we crouch here until it grows dark, then?”
“Aye, and pray that none of those curs sniff us out. ’Twill be dusk soon. The gates will close when darkness falls. We dinna want to be stuck outside. So as the sun begins to set, we will start on our way. We will move cautiously until we are seen, and then we will spur our mounts onward, straight for Donnbraigh’s sturdy gates.”
“And pray that my kinsmen dinna mistake us for some foe and fill our poor mortal frames with arrows?”
Revan sidled closer, took off her cap, and began to unbraid her hair. “Ye shall leave this beautiful pelt flowing free so all who see you will ken that ye are a lass. That will stay their hands.”
“Are ye certain of that?”
“Aye. From all Nairn told me of these Comyns and Delgados, they willna harm a lass. Are ye not so sure?”
“Five years past I would have been.” She leaned against him when he sat behind her to finger-comb her hair. “Now I am not certain of anything. The kinsmen I kenned back then would never have lifted a hand against any lass. But they are caught up firmly in these troubled times. Who can say how deeply mistrust may have settled in their hearts?”
“There is some truth in that, but I still dinna believe we need to fear them. Aye, they may well grab us the moment we enter their gates and hold us tightly until they are sure ye are Contessa, but they willna kill you. And that, my sweet Tess, makes you my shield.”
“ ’Tis only fair, sir. Ye have been mine for most of this thrice-cursed journey.”
“This time we shall both have our backs to the enemy.” He wrapped his arms around her, tugged her closer up against him, and kissed her on the top of her head. “Ye are to ride as low in the saddle as ye can, lass. If our enemies have any archers, ye dinna wish to give them too large a target.”
“Aye, I understand.” She glanced up at the sky. “Well, at least we dinna have to wait too long to start this mad game.”
Tess grunted in protest when she was shaken awake. Straightening up, she blinked and realized that she had fallen asleep against Revan. The light of day was beginning to fade.
“I havena slept too long, have I?” She quickly stood up and brushed herself off.
“Nay, but we best not dally here any longer.” Revan got to his feet, gave her a quick kiss, and took her by the hand. “Keep your eyes open. The moment we see one of the earl’s or Thurkettle’s men, we ride hard.”
“Straight for the gates of Donnbraigh. Aye, I remember.” She mounted her horse and, grimacing faintly, looked down at her outfit. “I wish now that I hadna tossed away that blue gown. ’Twas torn and stained, but it would have shocked my kinsmen far less than this travel-worn lad’s attire.”
Revan mounted, then smiled at her. “I believe that, after so many days of not kenning whether ye were alive or dead, or even where ye might be, your kinsmen will take little heed of your attire.” He frowned when he noticed her glancing about and peeking into her saddle packs. “Have ye lost something?”
“My hat. I ken that ’tis worn and old, but ’twas my father’s.”
“I have it in my saddle packs. Ready?”
“As ready as one can ever be for such a mad venture.” He nodded and started toward Donnbraigh. Tess kept as close to him as she dared, letting her mare amble behind Revan’s mount while she kept an eye out for their enemies. It was not long before the trees she and Revan had been sheltered in began to thin out and Donnbraigh came into view.
The tall, el-shaped tower house was a welcome sight. The high, thick wall surrounding it promised safety. There was little activity at the gates, and Tess knew those heavy iron-studded doors and the yett, that ominous gate of heavy interlaced iron bars, would soon be shut. She could remember from her youth how everyone returned to the keep or left it for their homes before dusk had truly settled. An hour or so would pass while the gates remained opened for the rare straggler. Then, just as the last gray light of dusk was fading into night, there would be the sound of those gates shutting tight. At first it had frightened her, but she had quickly grown to acquaint the sound with being safe. She had come to realize that those gates did not lock her in so much as they locked out all danger.
“To your left, Tessa,” hissed Revan, yanking her free of her memories.
She barely had the chance to look at the man Revan had spotted. That man gave a cry of discovery just as Revan yelled at her to race for the gates. Tess crouched low in the saddle as he had told her to and spurred her mare into a gallop. She glanced behind to see Revan fitting an arrow to his bow. When she slowed a little, he gave her one sharp look, a clear order to continue on. Tess obeyed and an instant later she heard a man scream. She then heard the rapid approach of a horse and chanced a quick peek. Revan was right behind her. He had said she would be his shield this time, but he clearly meant to shield her as well.
Her concern about Revan was pushed aside as she espied riders converging upon them from three sides. The air was soon peppered with arrows. Tess prayed that her kinsmen would decide to aid her and Revan simply because the Douglas men were after them. Although none of the Comyn men could possibly recognize her now, she hoped they would decide to help two people hunted by so many and ask the why of it all later.
The moment they were within arrow range of the walls of Donnbraigh, Tess’s fervent prayers were answered. She saw one of the Douglas men thrown from his saddle by the force of several arrows entering his chest and heard the screams of others. Although she could not be exactly thankful that men were dying, she was nevertheless relieved. She and Revan now had a better chance of reaching the safety of Donnbraigh alive.
Even after she passed through the outer gates, she did not relax. The covered pa
ssage between the outer and inner gates was not a welcoming one. It suddenly appeared to be a long, dark, and dangerous tunnel. Glancing upward, she caught the glint of arrowheads aimed down at her through the murderholes in the roof. She tensed, waiting for those arrows to strike her flesh. Until she was recognized, she knew she would be seen as a possible enemy.
As soon as she cleared the inner gates and was within the bailey, she reined her mare to a halt. The animal was startled by such an abrupt stop and reared. It took her a moment to calm the horse. The instant the mare was still, several armed men encircled her, and one yanked her out of her saddle. She saw Revan arrive and be roughly pulled from his saddle as the loud slamming shut of the gates echoed throughout the bailey. Afraid that Revan might be hurt by her kinsmen, she began to struggle in her captor’s hold.
“Be still, wench. Your companion will suffer no more than a few wee bruises if he has the wit to surrender peacefully.”
That deep voice was familiar, and Tess turned her head to look at her captor. It surprised her a little to see that it was her cousin Tomas, for she would have expected him to be at his own keep or with the king. She saw him frown and knew he was beginning to recognize her. In the hope of hurrying along that recognition, she spoke to him in Spanish, praying that she had not forgotten too much over the last five years.
“Cousin, do you not remember me?” She saw surprise widen his brown eyes, then he scowled.
“I think I do,” he replied in Spanish.
“Then think harder, you brainless fool,” she snapped. “I am Contessa.”
“Your tongue does carry her sting,” he said. “Yet, this could be some trick. We have had a few played upon us by curs who thought to cheat us of the reward offered for your safe return.”
“Has your wife, Meghan, learned of how you walk and talk in your sleep yet?” He paled slightly, and she knew she had strengthened her claim. Few outside of the immediate family knew about those habits.
Tomas turned her to face him, gripping her by the shoulders. She tolerated his searching gaze, smiling faintly as she waited for him to realize his eyes and his memory could be trusted. When he gave a glad cry and hugged her, she felt somewhat weak with relief. She did her best to answer his barrage of questions. It was several moments before she recalled that they were still speaking in Spanish and that Revan might be in need of some assistance.
Revan frowned, not able to understand one word of the rapid conversation Tess was having with the tall, very handsome man who so vigorously hugged and kissed her. He was nettled over how long it was taking her to remember him. The two men flanking him, each firmly holding one of his arms, were doing him no harm, but Tess had not really looked his way enough to know that. Watching the man handle her with such familiarity was also beginning to enrage him. He decided to remind Tess that she had not come to Donnbraigh alone.
“Tessa,” he called, ignoring the way his guards frowned at him in open disapproval. “Now that they are assured that ye are a friend, do ye think ye could spare a moment to tell them that I am no enemy?”
Startled, Tess turned to look at Revan. After studying him quickly but carefully, she relaxed. He was not hurt, simply irritated. Probably doesna like being forgotten any more than I do, she thought and smiled. She was tempted to ignore him a little longer, but Tomas spoke up.
“Who is this man, Tess?” Tomas asked in English, glaring at Revan.
“Sir Revan Halyard.” She was shocked when Tomas stepped in front of her and drew his sword.
“So this is the low cur who kidnapped you.”
She grabbed Tomas’s arm to halt his advance on Revan. “Nay, ye canna hurt him. He is one of the king’s knights.”
“I dinna care if he is the Pope’s brother. He is the man who kidnapped you—aye?”
“Well, aye, but he never meant to hurt me, and he has saved my life.”
“After he put your life at risk.”
“My life was at risk ere he took me out of Thurkettle’s hands.”
“I begin to think there are a great many twists and turns to this tale. Release him,” he ordered the guards.
Tess hurried to Revan’s side. “Are ye hurt?” she asked even though she could see no sign of a wound.
“Nay, I am fine.”
“We will go and join our uncle, Silvio, in the great hall,” Tomas said, then ordered the men to see to Revan’s and Tess’s horses. “Come.” He signaled Tess and Revan to follow him into the keep.
When Revan took Tess by the hand and started after Tomas, she did not immediately fall into step with him. “Is there something wrong?”
“Mayhaps this wasna such a good idea.” Tess suddenly dreaded confronting her uncle Silvio.
“We need their help. These are your kinsmen, and ’tis clear to see that they welcome you.”
“Uncle Silvio will take one look at me, and he will ken all about us,” she whispered, seeing that Tomas had stopped to watch them and not wanting her cousin to overhear what she was saying.
“He willna ken a thing.”
“He will. I am certain of it.”
“There is no brand upon your forehead, lass. ’Tis our secret.”
She shook her head. “Uncle Silvio will ken it all with but one look. Tomas and his bride anticipated their wedding night. They never told Uncle Silvio, either, but the first time he looked at them, he kenned it all.”
“Foolishness.” Revan hoped he sounded more confident than he suddenly felt.
He started toward Tomas again. The man hesitated to be sure they were following him, then started toward the keep again. Revan ignored Tess’s heavy sigh of resignation and the foreboding expression she wore, but both infected him. He did not want to believe that her uncle could guess they had become lovers simply by looking at them, but Revan had to admit to himself that he was beginning to feel a little bit worried.
As they stepped inside of the keep and walked toward the great hall, Revan saw the first signs of the Comyn-Delgado wealth. The alms table set near the door held a silver tray and was draped with fine embroidered linen. On the wall above it hung a beautifully woven tapestry. Beside the table was a heavy, elaborately carved chair. To use such expensive items for the alms table, used to set out offerings for the poor and the occasional traveling holy man, was something only a rich man could or would do.
That opinion was confirmed as Tomas showed them into the great hall. Here the signs of wealth were everywhere, from the tapestries hung upon the wall for warmth to the large number of candles burning. Chairs were as numerous as benches around the cloth-draped tables. It was not the display of a man eager to boast of his riches, however, but of one who used his money to better his surroundings, to achieve some comfort. Revan also suspected that the wealth was honestly earned, unlike that of far too many others he knew.
Revan turned his attention to Sir Silvio Comyn as they approached him. Silvio was a tall, lean man who possessed the same dark handsomeness Tomas did, although Silvio’s was weathered by an added ten or more years. The man sat at the head of a large table at the far end of the hall in a high-backed chair, his foot bandaged and resting on another pillowed chair. When he, Tomas, and Tess finally stopped in front of Sir Silvio, Revan found the man’s unwavering gaze unsettling. Silvio Comyn had the same dark, stirring eyes that Tess had. That steady gaze made Revan feel as if every little wrong he had ever committed was now exposed. It made Revan want to confess, and he knew that would be a very big mistake.
“These two were the ones who caused such a great row?” Silvio asked, glancing at Tomas.
“Aye. All of those slinking dogs we have had lurking about our lands were chasing them. ’Tis Contessa, Uncle Silvio.” Tomas pointed at his cousin. “It took me a moment to recognize her.”
Silvio studied Tess. “It has been five years.”
Tess released Revan’s hand and took one step closer to her uncle. “Dinna ye recognize me? I canna have changed so very much. Ye always called me the Wee Countess.”
Although still a little nervous, Tess hurried over to hug him. The sight of him always brought her a touch of sadness along with the joy. He looked so much like her late father.
“What happened to your foot?” she asked after they had exchanged kisses and he held her by his chair with his arm about her waist.
“One of Tomas’s useless horses trod upon it.” He gave her a mock frown when she giggled. “ ’Tis better, but I coddle it because I wish to be fully able to fight for our king when the time comes.” He looked at Revan. “And this must be Sir Revan Halyard.”
“Aye, Uncle Silvio, but he isna guilty of all the black crimes Thurkettle and the Douglas claim he is.”
“I felt certain those were all lies, which is why he wasna cut down the moment he rode into my bailey. Tomas, see that some food and drink are brought to us, then join us. There is a lot that must be discussed.”
Tess did not like the sound of that but struggled to disguise her qualms. Silvio had her sit on his left and Revan on his right. When Tomas returned, he was seated on the other side of Revan. Tess decided her kinsmen looked a little too much like guards. Silvio might be willing to listen, but she suspected he was also prepared to condemn if the story he would demand was not to his satisfaction.
The moment the food and drink were brought and the four of them were alone again, Silvio pressed Revan for the whole story. Whenever Tess tried to add something, she was politely but firmly brushed aside. It began to annoy her.
“And ye agree with all he has said?” Silvio asked Tess when Revan was finished. “There is naught ye would change?”
“Nay,” she replied. “In truth, he told it more harshly than I would have. The beginning of it all wasna as bad as he said.”
“Oh? He didna kidnap you? Didna drag you from Thurkettle’s keep whilst holding a knife at your throat?”