“I will fetch some clean blankets and water first. And, mayhaps, I can find some of the foul brew these people drink. I now recall that she poured some of it o’er my wound.”
As soon as Justice left, Gabel turned all of his attention to Ainslee. Her pale color and her stillness worried him. When he finally got the bloodied strips of cloth off of her wound, the sight of the jagged hole in her soft flesh made him sick with fear. She was so small, so delicate, that such a wound could prove to be a dangerous one, could even prove to be fatal. Her lithe body was covered with bruises, and she had lost some weight. Gabel knew that both of those things were the results of her father’s brutality, and could easily steal away the strength she would need to heal. He wished he could make her father pay all over again for his mistreatment of his own child.
The moment Justice returned with the water, clean rags, and clean blankets, Gabel stripped and bathed Ainslee. He fleetingly begged Ainslee’s forgiveness for slighting her modesty. Justice held Ainslee still as Gabel cleaned and stitched her wound, for, even in the depths of unconsciousness, she felt the pain and cried out, trying to twist away from him. When he was done, he splashed some of the clean water on his face as Justice covered her limp form with blankets, and even took a hearty swallow of the strong brew.
“I cannot believe anyone actually drinks this,” he said, his eyes watering a little as he set the jug aside.
“I tasted it once and found it very strong,” Justice murmured.
“Aye, it fair burns its way to your belly.” He sighed and gently brushed the hair from Ainslee’s ashen face. “ ’Tis a deep, bloody wound, and her father’s cruelty has ensured that she is not at her full strength to fight off all the threats of such a wound.”
“Even like this, bruised and half-starved, Ainslee MacNairn is stronger than most women we know or have ever known. If any woman can survive such a wound, she can.”
“I pray that you are right, Cousin, for I will ne’er forgive myself if my weakness causes her death.”
“Your weakness?” Justice looked at his cousin in surprise and confusion. “What are you saying? Even if I could think of some weakness, how could it be blamed for this tragedy?”
“My weakness is my hesitancy to treat my enemies as they deserve. I show mercy to those who deserve none. I try to make peace with men who have no honor. My reluctance to spill the blood of others has brought Ainslee to this. I should have cut Fraser down the first time he tried to kill her, back at Bellefleur.”
“Mercy and a reluctance to slay all who stand against you is not a weakness. If you had killed Fraser at Bellefleur, you may well have angered the king so deeply that he would not have allowed you to lead this fight, or even to join in it. That would assuredly have cost Ainslee her life and the lives of all of her people as well.”
“I should have seen Fraser’s treachery ere it cut her down.”
“You are an honorable man, Gabel. Sometimes ‘tis hard for an honorable man to see treachery, or guess what trick a dishonorable man might play. Aye, mayhaps you need to look at other men with a far more distrustful eye, but ’tis no true weakness or fault.
“You fought Fraser fairly, man to man. You won and he yielded.” Justice shook his head. “I myself thought that that would be the end of it, and I am the one who should be more cautious for ’tis my place to watch your back. Nay, Gabel, you cannot blame yourself for not seeing what a low cowardly trick Fraser was about to play.”
“MacFibh saw it,” Gabel said quietly, his gaze fixed upon Ainslee’s face as he tried to will her to wake up and look at him.
“MacFibh is but a breath away from dishonor himself.”
Gabel smiled fleetingly. “The man does bear close watching. He wanted Fraser dead, yet was willing to bide his time until he could wreak the revenge he sought without any fear of retribution. I believe the wrong Fraser did MacFibh’s cousin is but one of many crimes and insults he dealt the man, yet MacFibh waited, patiently, coldly, until the perfect moment to strike. I thought the way MacFibh acted toward the MacNairns revealed the full true nature of the man.”
“Ah, but the MacNairns have long been declared outlaws, thus MacFibh could deal with them however he pleased,” Justice said as he carefully folded the cleanest of the animal skins and slid it beneath Ainslee’s head.
“Aye, so I must now study the man.” Gabel cursed softly. “Why does she not wake, if only for a moment?”
“ ’Tis clear that her time at Kengarvey has not been an easy one. Mayhaps that takes its toll now, forcing her to sleep so deeply. With MacNairn lurking about at every turning, she may have slept very little.”
“I should never have let her return to this accursed place.”
“You had no choice, cousin.”
Before Gabel could argue that, Michael arrived, saying, “That simpleton who came to speak to you outside of the gates has returned. He is demanding to speak with you again.”
“Does the fool not know what has happened?” Gabel snapped as he stepped outside of the tiny shelter to stand next to Michael.
“Now he does, for Lady Ainslee’s brothers loudly informed him. ’Tis clear that there is no love lost between the brothers and their sister’s husband. The news that Lady Ainslee has been wounded only appeared to irritate Livingstone. I think you had better come and speak with him, ere there is trouble between him and his kinsmen.”
Gabel cursed softly. He wanted to stay by Ainslee’s side, to encourage her to wake and to be there when she did. The last thing he wished to do was to deal with a man who clearly wanted to gain hold of Ainslee for his own selfish reasons. There was one way to be rid of Livingstone, and that was to tell the man that he intended to marry Ainslee himself. Gabel did not wish to tell anyone outside of Bellefleur about those plans, however, until he had had the chance to talk to Ainslee.
“Stay with her, Justice,” he ordered his cousin. “I will send that maid to help you. Try to get the girl to clean herself, or at least wash her hands, without insulting her. If Ainslee stirs, I wish to be told immediately.”
After Justice assured him that he would and that Ainslee would be well cared for, Gabel went to confront Livingstone. He saw the man pacing angrily in front of the MacNairns, and had to fight to constrain his own anger. This was just more proof that Ainslee had been surrounded by uncaring people, people who just wished to use her to gain what they wanted or to vent their fury on her. He guiltily admitted that he was not much better, that he too had used her to try and gain what he wanted. Peace without bloodshed may be an honorable goal to reach for, but it did not completely excuse his actions. Gabel was determined, however, that it would all end now. From now on, Ainslee would have the freedom to do as she wished.
“Lord de Amalville,” Livingstone said in cold greeting, his bow so small as to be an insult. “I hear that my wee sister by marriage has been severely injured.”
When Michael softly cursed and grew tense, Gabel knew he was not allowing his own guilt to make him hear the sharp accusation behind those words. “Lord Fraser attempted to kill me, and Lady Ainslee courageously placed herself between me and the arrow aimed at my heart.”
“Why was she running about in the midst of a battle?”
“Have you ne‘er fought a battle, sir? ’Tis nigh to impossible to place all the innocents in some safe haven, wrapped in eiderdown, whilst we men cut and slash at each other. You try to place blame for something that could not be prevented, and you edge ever closer to uttering a grave insult.” Gabel was pleased when his cold warning caused Livingstone to visibly compose himself. He had no wish to fight with even more of Ainslee’s kinsmen.
“I was but unsettled by such grave news,” Livingstone said in a soft conciliatory voice. “If her wound has been tended to, I can take her with me now. Her sister Elspeth can nurse her. There is no need to trouble yourself.”
“But there is. I owe the girl my life.”
“Surely, sir, ’twould be best if her own kinsmen care for her now.”<
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“From what I have seen, Ainslee will fare far better at Bellefleur than in the hands of her kinsmen.”
“My laird—” Livingstone began in protest.
“Enough. She will return to Bellefleur with me. If naught else, because her man Ronald is there, and he has shown a true skill in the healing arts.”
Livingstone tried to change Gabel’s mind, but soon realized that it was hopeless. The man did not hide his frustration and anger well as he promised to come to Bellefleur in a fortnight’s time, weather permitting. He left without asking what the fate of Kengarvey was to be, and it was one small thing Gabel could be grateful for. He did not wish to get into an argument over that at the moment.
As Gabel watched Livingstone ride away, he swore that, even if Ainslee would not accept him as her husband—a possibility he found painful to consider—he would never allow Livingstone to gain hold of her. He had not discovered the name of the man Livingstone wished to sell her to in marriage, but he was sure that her well-being and her wishes had not once been considered. It was far past time that they were.
“That bastard has ne’er given Ainslee a thought until now,” muttered Colin, glaring after his departing brother-in-law.
“Have any of the MacNairns ever done so?” Gabel asked in a voice cold and tight with anger as he recalled the many bruises marring Ainslee’s slim form.
Colin flushed and nodded. “Few and rarely,” he agreed. “Howbeit, Sir de Amalville, ye should be careful about condemning what ye canna fully understand, as I am certain that ye have ne‘er lived the sort of life we all have in this thrice-cursed place. Until ye have seen hell, ye can fear it, but ye can ne’er truly ken its torments.”
“Nay, I cannot know what life at Kengarvey was like for all of you. Yet, you are her brothers, her closest kin, and good strong young men. How could you continue to just stand by and allow your father to nearly kill her?”
“She isna dead though, is she?” muttered George, clamping his lips together tightly when Colin signalled him to be quiet.
“Every bruise she bears has added to the burden of guilt I will carry to my grave,” Colin said in a voice softened and weighted by sorrow. “I canna explain why we did as little for her as we did. From the moment we left the warmth of our mother’s womb, we have learned only brutality from our father. From the cradle we learned survival, learned how to avoid the beatings and all the other cruelties he inflicted upon us and others under his care. Aye, we are strong, and we can face most any mon, sword to sword, without flinching. Howbeit, we all lived in mortal terror of Duggan MacNairn, and that fear is a deep old one, fed to us with our mother’s milk.”
Gabel shook his head and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I am sorry. You are correct. I cannot understand such a life, or how it must affect a man. I respond to what is before my eyes—that a tiny, delicate woman was treated savagely by her own father, and no one raised a hand in her defense.”
“I understand and take no insult, but, George, inelegant as his muttering was, is also correct. Ainslee isna dead, and she could weel have been, many times over. ‘Tis all we could do. We kept her alive, and e’en that was at great risk to ourselves.”
“But why would a father wish to kill his own child?”
“He loathed her. She should have died with our mother. Our father saw his own shame and cowardice each time he looked at Ainslee. He could have saved our mother and Ainslee, but he fled the battle that day, and ne‘er once tried to help them. Ainslee was a living, breathing reminder of that cowardly desertion, and of the fact that he wouldna have changed that day e’en if given the chance. He would have still run to save his own wretched neck. ’Twas something he did often. He would have fled today, leaving all of us to die, except that he was trapped within the great hall and couldna reach the bolt hole.”
Colin shrugged. “I truly didna see how he wished her death, not clearly, until she returned from Bellefleur. Ainslee tried to escape from here and, when we found her, our father would have cut her down on the spot if we hadna stopped him. Then he tried to starve her to death in his dungeons. I couldna ignore the dark truth any longer. Ye arrived at our gates ere I could think of a way to help her escape without costing too many lives.”
“Weel, it looks as if our old enemy, Fraser, has finally succeeded in doing what our father couldna,” said George.
“Your sister will not die,” Gabel snapped, knowing that he tried to convince himself of that, as well as her brothers.
“Did ye say that Ronald still lives?” asked Colin.
“Aye. He was gravely wounded that day at the river’s edge, but he is strong. He even wished to hobble along with me today, but I would not allow it. He will be able to care for Ainslee.”
“Are ye sure ye should be moving her before she has recovered?”
“There is no place left here to shelter her adequately. E‘en if you build something, ’twill take more time than it will for me to get her to Bellefleur. There she will have people to tend to her needs, a warm, soft bed, and plenty to eat. Nay, ’tis best to take her to Bellefleur. My men and I will ride out at dawn.”
“Even if she takes a fever?”
Colin’s soft words chilled Gabel to the bone, but he struggled to hide and subdue his fears. He did not wish to alarm Colin and his brothers, nor did he wish to stir up his own fears. A fever could be deadly. Even in the short time he had sat by Ainslee’s side, he had constantly touched her face, searching for any sign of fever, yet dreading the possibility that it might appear. It was foolish, but he wanted to banish all thought of it from his mind. He wanted to wait and confront that demon only when and if it appeared.
“No matter what state she is in,” he replied. “Now, there is something I have not yet told you—the king has granted Kengarvey and all of its lands to me.”
“I had guessed that, sir. Why else should ye be asking us to swear an allegiance to you?”
“So that you would no longer trouble me, my people, or my lands. ’Tis reason enough.”
“And, mayhaps ye wanted our vows ere ye told us just how much we have lost this day.”
“Mayhaps,” Gabel admitted reluctantly, for the thought had crossed his mind as he had accepted the oaths of each MacNairn he took under his protection.
“And ye are willing to trust in the word of a MacNairn?” Colin asked, watching Gabel closely as he waited for an answer.
“Although all that has happened here today has shown me that I am often too trusting—aye—I will accept your oaths as they were spoken. I will watch closely, though, for any sign that treachery was another thing you learned from your father. Trusting your father’s word cost me dearly, and may yet cost me more than I care to think on. Howbeit, I do not believe one should hold what a father does against his children. I am not the only one you must prove yourselves to, you realize.”
“Aye, I ken that most every mon, woman, and bairn in Scotland has become our enemy o‘er the years. I dinna consider a wary attitude an insult or a problem. We intend to try and wash away some of the stain our father—and his father before him—have so thoroughly smeared our name with.” Colin glanced in the direction his brother-in-law had ridden, and grimaced. “There is one who willna take the news that ye now hold Kengarvey weel. ’Tis not only our wee sister he seeks. Livingstone truly believes that he has a right to gain from our loss.”
“Yet he did not wish to lift his sword in the king’s name.”
“Livingstone rarely lifts his sword at all. When he married our sister, he was expected to stand with us in our battles, but he simply didna stand against us. He took our sister’s dowry, fled to his keep, and was rarely seen again. The mon is here, because he seeks some gain from all of this. Aye, and ‘tis certain that Elspeth was the one shoving him out the gates. She has always had a keen eye for gain, no matter whose hands she must snatch it from,” Colin added bitterly. “That is one of my father’s children who learned all of our father’s ways. ’Tis nay good to speak ill of
one’s own kin, but Elspeth spits upon her kinship with us. Did ye hear any offer made of shelter or aid in rebuilding?”
“Why, nay,” Gabel replied, unable to hide his surprise. “But, surely, if these lands were given to Livingstone, you and your people would be allowed to remain here.”
“Nay, Sir de Amalville,” replied Colin. “Mayhaps the maids and some others who work the lands and clean the stables, but none of us would be allowed to remain here. And what do ye plan, m‘laird? Ye asked for our oaths yet, e’en now, ye dinna say whether we are to stay here or must set out to wander the land.”
“You may remain here. If you hold true to the oaths you have given me, I see no reason to cast you out.”
“I thank ye for that, Sir de Amalville. And who shall ye put o’er us?”
“I am not yet sure.” Gabel looked around at the destruction wreaked by the Frasers, the MacFibhs, and by his own men. “There is not much left.”
“We shall rebuild,” Colin assured him, and his brothers nodded in agreement. “We have done so many times o’er the years, and we have become quite good at it.”
“ ’Tis late in the year. The weather has been most kind, but that could change at any moment. It could prove to be quite difficult for you and all of these people.” Gabel frowned, not wishing to leave the MacNairns without adequate shelter and with few supplies, yet he did not think he could shelter so many people at Bellefleur without causing his own people some hardship.
“Dinna fear for us, m‘laird. We will soon have shelters readied and, whene’er the weather allows, we will rebuild the keep. Mayhaps now we may enjoy a long enough time of peace and prosperity that we may finally add the stronger stone, but I shall leave such hopes and plans in yours and God’s hands.”
Gabel just smiled, and then ordered his men to give the MacNairns what aid they would need to find themselves some shelter for the swiftly approaching night. Although the MacFibhs were departing, it was too late in the day for him to try and return to Bellefleur. There was no sign of an impending storm, and Gabel felt it was safe enough to wait until dawn before leaving. On his way back to the lean-to Ainslee sheltered in, Gabel paused only long enough to say farewell to the MacFibhs.
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