by Diana Cosby
Surprise flickered in the Templar’s eyes. “But you are wed.”
“A union neither of us wanted.”
“Mayhap, but I see the way you watch the lass,” Cailin said. “You care for her. Though she will not admit it, I believe her feelings for you have also deepened.”
However much he wanted to believe his friend, Aiden grunted. “Gwendolyn has made it abundantly clear that she never wanted to marry.”
“God’s blade, if we had never intervened, what do you think would have happened when the Bruce’s troops seized Latharn Castle?” Cailin demanded. “Do you think her life wouldna have changed then?”
“Aye, but we never would have met, and her life’s path is for King Robert to decide.”
“A decision,” Cailin said with emphasis, “the king has already made. One I thought you were pleased with.”
Anger blazed inside Aiden, and he damned the hurt, as if a part of him wasn’t being torn apart. “Dinna you understand? How much I care for her matters little. She has lost enough. Nor will I cause her further distress.” A fact he must remember. “Once Latharn Castle is reclaimed, she will have her home and a proper guard. ’Twas all she ever wanted.”
“And what of you?” his friend demanded. “With the dissolution of the Brotherhood, the life we loved, the calling we have lived for, is gone.”
He scowled at the fierce pang the reminder brought, no doubt deliberate. “Our duty remains. The Templar treasures must be protected.”
“An assignment that belongs to Stephan MacQuistan.”
Indeed. A man he respected, and one who was like a brother to him. “Neither can I forget my vow to serve the Bruce.”
“Aiden,” Cailin said, frustration edging his voice, “one day Scotland will be united and the fighting will cease. What will you do then?”
“Return to Thorburn Castle.”
“Blast it, you know I am speaking about your marriage with Gwendolyn, yet you are making me pull any details from you like teeth.”
Aiden rubbed the back of his neck as he stared blindly at the warriors within the torchlight preparing equipment across the camp for the morning’s departure. “As much as I wish otherwise—” He dropped his hand. “I will respect Gwendolyn’s wishes and stay away.”
“With how much you care for the lass, if you do, you are a fool!”
“I would think,” Aiden said, his words soft with warning, “as a Knight Templar, you would understand.”
His friend’s eyes narrowed. “Understand what, your sacrifice of ever being happy?”
“Blast it—”
“You have a wife, one who regardless of what you believe, of the words she offers, wants you,” Cailin stated. “You have allowed pride to dictate your decision, and refuse to give the feelings that exist between you a chance.”
“I never should have involved Gwendolyn in this twisted mess!”
“You did naught but your duty. Your decisions were made for the good of our sovereign.” Cailin paused. “However unplanned your meeting with the lass, ’twould seem in the end a union that will do more than serve the king’s needs, but ’tis a marriage in which you can find happiness.”
Aiden hesitated, remembering their talk and her questions about his life after. No, ’twas foolish to hope she would entertain thoughts of him in the years ahead. “I will restore what she has lost,” he said, clinging to that logic. “Her home, one without me.”
His friend grunted with disgust. “But you care for her?”
“Cailin, ’tis not—”
“Admit it!”
Aiden fought to smother the surge of emotion. Failed. Hurt stormed him to think of never seeing her again. He’d believed himself detached from Gwendolyn enough that he could walk away, yet now he realized the truth.
He loved her.
God’s sword. After losing his family during his youth, his years as a Templar had provided a life where naught but friendships were forged, serving Him and protecting Christians traveling through the Holy Land, he’d found a woman who had broken through all defenses.
“I do care for her. She is unlike any woman I have ever met. In truth, I was attracted to her from the start. Except,” he said on a rough swallow, “my feelings will not change my decision. I have given her my word, one that I will not break.”
Disgust flared in Cailin’s eyes. “Does she know about your youth?”
“Leave it!” Aiden said between clenched teeth.
“Why do you refuse to allow her close? Is it because you are afraid she will care, or…” The Templar’s eyes widened. “God’s blade, you love her.”
Fisting his hands at his sides, Aiden stared at the forest, the shadows of the night clinging to the branches like the emptiness in his heart. “How I feel about Gwendolyn changes naught.”
“It changes everything.”
“Do you think I dinna understand the devastation of losing your family,” Aiden rasped, “of waking each morning wondering why you lived when those you loved lay dead? Blast it, she has lost her mother and now her father. In her time of desperation, I understand her need to find something that matters, when grief is so raw that you wish to curl up and die.”
His friend grunted. “So you will sacrifice a chance of a future with her because you worry that if she loves you and you die, ’twill hurt her further?”
“She is to never know how I feel! I promised her she would have her home.” He unclenched his hands, dragged a deep breath, then another, forcing himself to calm. “I will savor the few days we have left, then ’tis done.”
Silence fell between them filled with the murmurs of men securing weapons, talking with others as they worked, melding with the soft whispers of the night.
“Because we are friends, I will say this,” Cailin said. “If you walk away from this woman without telling her how you feel, you are making the biggest mistake of your life.”
Aiden glared at his friend. “Mayhap, but ’tis my mistake to make.”
Chapter 16
Hours later, through the open tent flap, Gwendolyn scanned the wash of stars flickering in the night, the soft breeze infused with the scent of smoke drifting past. Sadness built inside as she glanced at the moon lingering overhead. A silvery wash spilled across the treetops to underscore her misery.
The pad of steps grew louder.
She turned. Outlined by torchlight, Aiden and Cailin walked toward the tent. In the short time she had known Aiden, she’d come to recognize the way he walked and found pride in his being a man who stood behind his word regardless the cost. Gwendolyn smothered the ball of regret at the thought of not bearing his child.
On a sigh, she narrowed her gaze as the men moved closer. At the entry, they halted.
“I will see you at first light. I urge you to reconsider what we have discussed.” With a nod, Cailin departed.
Caught within the pale light, Aiden ducked and entered.
She stiffened as he moved past and made a pallet a distance from hers. She should have expected him this night. Though they had made agreements for the future, to those within the camp they were married. Neither did she miss the irony that ’twas their wedding night.
Again.
’Twice she’d married him, and ’twould seem the second oath would forevermore bind her to Aiden.
Shadows smothered his face. Unable to read his expression, she remained silent.
Blankets shifted as he settled. “Are you asleep?”
“Nay. I was thinking of the conversation with King Robert, you, and your men regarding how to capture my home,” she said, giving up the hope of seeing his muscled form in the darkness. “The plan is impressive. Never would I have thought of setting the ships ablaze, severing the mooring lines, and allowing the vessels to drift, then collide into one another.”
“’Twill destroy a good portion, if not
all of the English fleet, plus provide a much-needed distraction.” Covers rustled as he shifted. “When the English bolt from the castle to try to salvage their ships, the Bruce’s main force will seal off any avenue of escape and attack. A moonless night will serve us well, sea fog even more so.”
“With the moon waning,” Gwendolyn said, unsettled by thoughts of the upcoming battle, “by the time we arrive ’twill be little more than a sliver when we attack. As for the sea fog, ’tis another matter.”
“I understand your reason for wanting to accompany us,” he said, “but I again ask that you disclose where the hidden passageways are, along with the location of your father’s secret ledger, and remain in King Robert’s camp.”
Though soft, she heard the worry in his voice. “I will go. I have done, and will continue to do, whatever I see fit to tend to my people’s well-being and restore my home.”
He gave a frustrated growl.
Let him be angry. After the events of this day, there was enough for them both. She turned on her side.
Through the opening in the tent, a falling star streaked across the sky, faded.
Gwendolyn closed her eyes to make a wish, then stilled. As if such existed. ’Twas naught but the dreams of a young girl, a time long past. However ill achieved, soon she would regain her home.
Unbidden, a child’s face whose laughter filled her heart shimmered to mind, a handsome lad with Aiden’s eyes. Regret twisted inside at what would never be.
She should be happy. She’d agreed to her husband’s offer and her future was set.
“Then accompany my force when we prepare for the attack,” he growled at last, “but remember your promise to remain within the secret tunnel until I send word that Latharn Castle is seized.”
Her hands tightened on her covers. “The only reason I conceded not to fight was your reasoning that if I were captured, I could ruin everything.”
“I have little doubt you would be a fierce opponent,” he said, his words tight. “’Tis the horrors of battle I wish to spare you.”
On edge, Gwendolyn tucked her blanket around her waist, sat up, and rubbed her arms. “I wish the fighting was over.”
“As do I. I am weary of battle, of the dying, of seeing the devastation brought by war.” Blankets shifted. “Nor did I wish to spend the evening talking of such horror.”
A feeling she shared. Silence fell between them, punctuated by a hoot of an owl and the tremble of leaves in the forest.
“Are you tired?” Aiden asked.
“Nay,” she admitted. “I am too restless to sleep.”
He stood. “Come.”
Curious, she pushed aside the covers. Her eyes accustomed to the night, she followed.
Silvery light flickered over the land like wishes cast, the gentle breeze filled with a hint of flowers, and the coolness of the night.
At the trees near the edge of the encampment, she hesitated.
Aiden took her hand, tugged her forward. “Dinna worry, we will be safe. “Several hundred more warriors loyal to the Bruce arrived this day. To ensure the enemy doesna infiltrate the camp, King Robert has increased our guard around the perimeter.”
“When did they come?” she asked, surprised she had missed the influx of such a large contingent.
“While we were discussing the plans for the attack with the king.” Aiden stepped off the path, weaving through the dense woodland without hesitation.
Moments later, the thick foliage broke away.
She gasped at the sharp drop off from the stone ledge paces away.
His grip on her hand tightened. “You are safe. Here, sit.” Aiden drew her beside him on the smooth rock. “Look up.”
Framed within the night, stars filled the sky in a magnificent array. Their glitter melded with the waning moon’s light spilling upon the land, exposing the wall of the cliffs and the endless miles of forest below.
Aiden gestured to the left. “See the milky swath of light smeared across the sky? ’Tis said the path is created from the sparks cast off the blades of warriors locked in mortal combat.”
As surprised as moved by his story, a smile touched her lips. “You are crafting a tale.”
“Mayhap,” he said, laughter touching his voice. “Do you have a better reason why the stars are set together in such a pattern?”
“Nay. Nor do I think you brought me here to discuss such mysteries,” she said, appreciating the way the light spilled along the cliff side and the forest below. “Regardless of the reason, ’tis beautiful.”
“I thought you might enjoy this view. ’Tis a favorite of mine.”
Secretly delighted, she teased, “What if I was afraid of being so high?”
The warmth of his chuckle slid through her like a caress. “Lass, I doubt you would be afraid of anything so simple.”
“But I could have been.”
His thumb caressed the top of her hand.
Awareness shot through her, and her breath caught in her throat as he turned to face her, his eyes dark with need.
He leaned closer, his mouth a breath from hers, and a sense of something important filled her, of a moment, a wisp of time that somehow could, if she allowed it, change everything.
“Do you ever wish for what you have nay right to ask for?” he breathed, the sadness in his voice breaking her heart.
Aye, of how much I want you, she silently replied.
As if coming out of a trance, Aiden stiffened, withdrew his hand.
Missing his touch, bereft even though she knew ’twas foolish to toy with the unattainable, Gwendolyn searched for something to return the moment to safer ground. “Does anything worry you?”
“I refuse to answer that and look weak in your eyes.”
“I doubt there is such a possibility,” she said, finding the statement true.
For a long moment he stared at her, and she caught the edge of sadness in his gaze. “You speak highly of me when we have known each other for but a short while.”
“Mayhap,” she agreed, “but during that brief time, I have discovered you are a man of your word, one who cares.”
“’Tis great praise indeed.”
“Praise you have earned. Even when I didna know your true name, your deeds exposed you as a knight of high regard.”
Quiet fell between them, broken by the soft sounds of the night, and she enjoyed the peace his company brought her. A serenity that, once he departed for Thorburn Castle, she would miss.
Leather scuffed rock as he stepped back. “’Tis late. We must return to camp if we are to rest at all.”
As if with thoughts of him stirring in her mind she could rest? Not wanting to end this time between them, but doubting ’twas wise to remain, she nodded.
* * * *
Several days later, as the sun slowly edged toward the horizon, Gwendolyn sat near a break in the dense brush, stared at her home in the distance.
Hundreds of tents littered the roll of land, livestock grazed in several places, and near the castle, a trebuchet was being built.
At the sounds of steps, she glanced up.
Sir Cailin moved up the incline toward her.
She arched a brow, refusing to allow Aiden’s friend to see her disappointment. Since the morning they’d departed for Latharn Castle, Aiden had kept his distance.
As the Templar neared the top of the embankment, Cailin crouched to keep behind the thicket, and then moved to where she sat. “You dinna mind company?”
“Nay.” She glanced toward the stronghold. “Though far from reclaimed, ’tis good to see my home.”
He settled on a nearby rock, gestured toward the mist-laden coast. “We are fortunate sea fog has begun to form. By dawn it should be thick enough to slice.”
“How did Aiden know the mist would appear?”
Cailin glanced at t
he clear sky, then to where the dense blanket of white hung over the water a distance out to sea. “The conditions are right.”
“How do you know that?”
“From our time at sea. If you sail enough, you notice a connection with wind, air, the sun’s heat or lack of it, and the resultant weather.”
“I canna begin to imagine all you and the others have learned over your years as Templars.”
“’Tis difficult to think the life we love is over.”
At the roughness of his voice, she shook her head. “I am sorry.”
“As am I. One day King Philip will regret his treachery to the Brotherhood.”
“He will,” Gwendolyn whispered, as would Comyn. She shoved aside thoughts of the noble, savored the gentle breeze sliding past edged with the scent of the sea. “When will Aiden begin the assault?”
“At the hour of the wolf.”
“A Templar phrase?” she asked with a smile.
“Nay. This expression was coined long before the formation of the Brotherhood. It means the hour before dawn.”
Her smile faded. “I have sailed with my father over the years but never heard that phrase.”
“Because ’tis a term familiar to warriors.”
“I see.” An icy prickle swept up her spine as she glanced toward the fortress. “I fear many will die.” Including Aiden. A tremor slid through her. No, he must live!
“Shielded by fog, we shall be able to position ourselves to gain the advantage,” Cailin explained. “During the attack, the loss of life will be minimal and, more importantly, belong to the English.”
“I wish ’twas over,” she breathed.
He grunted. “’Twill be soon enough.”
Torches flickered on the distant wall walk, and she faced the warrior, his eyes watching her in the fading light. “I doubt you have come to speak of tactics.”
He removed his water pouch, offered her a drink.
“Nay.”
After several sips, Cailin secured the top, stowed the sewn leather. “You care for Aiden.”
She smothered the surge of emotion. In her heart, she had reconciled herself to letting him live the life he desired. “He and I have come to an arrangement.”