by John Ryan
Stirred by the shuttering of the heavy oaken panels, tendrils of mist swirled about them, enveloping them in a thick haze. The long, shadowy wraiths of white curled their slender fingers around them as if to stay their departure. While Thayer looked on in amusement, Elspeth huffed playfully at a wisp of mist that hovered about her face. Fortuitously, a sudden gust of wind cleared the mist just enough to permit their view of the path ahead. Their journey had begun.
Chapter Nine
Elspeth and Thayer trudged through the dreary mist along the castle grounds. The haze shrouding their path restricted their vision to a mere few horse lengths--slowing their progress twofold. Rows of lofty hedges, their peaks rendered monstrous and misshapen by the thick ribbons of mist, framed their path like opposing rows of Titan warriors begrudgingly permitting their departure.
Grateful sighs escaped the pair as they at last beheld the towering castle gate. Spying the empty guard post, Elspeth made a mental note to mention it to her father upon his return. Ian Mackenzie, the head of the castle guard, should have had the post fully manned. Instead they were met with silence.
Pausing reflectively, Elspeth noted a growing sense of suspicion beginning to gnaw at her innards. Her father’s assurances of Ian’s fealty to the family aside, there had always been something about Ian she never fully trusted. It wasn’t anything overt or overwhelming but it was there nonetheless.
Thayer dismounted and set the great Iron Gate in motion. It creaked upward, startling a raven, which cawed in dissent at the loss of its evening perch.
“Who goes there!” a disembodied voice demanded from atop the tower.
Recognizing Ian Mackenzie’s raspy baritone, Elspeth shouted, “Ian, ‘tis merely Sir Faolin and I. We are going for a ride north. We will return afore long.”
“Aye, lassie, just watch your back. Ye can never be too careful out there,” Ian replied, neglecting to emerge from the enclosure in which the tower guards took their respite.
Although she opted not to mention it to her companion, Elspeth didn’t particularly care for the tone of Ian’s voice. If she wasn’t mistaken, she mused, it had an air of threat about it.
Ne’er mind that, she reminded herself forthwith, Faolin has something of import he wishes to discuss with me. ‘Tis my obligation to allot my undivided attention to him. After all, we are soon to be family and I owe it to him to hear him out.
The heavy mist which billowed upon the evening breeze obscured the wan glow of the new moon. If they had departed thirty minutes earlier, however, the luminous orb would have appeared full and smiling, lighting their way.
After the pair had traveled for some twenty minutes beyond the gate, Thayer noticed Elspeth’s regard slide to a modest cemetery which lay a short distance ahead. The burial ground, sparsely dotted with stone crosses and weathered tombstones and choked with gnarled twists of ivy; lay just past the ruins of a tiny, squalid farmhouse. The dilapidated structure, which squatted at the edge of the Mourney woodlands, was collapsing upon itself and appeared to be long abandoned.
“That is where they buried my Uncle Liam, a fortnight ago,” Elspeth said forlornly as she motioned toward a mound of freshly tilled earth. “He was killed by the English in the battle of Sterling Bridge.”
“I am most aggrieved to hear that, Elspeth,” Thayer soothed as he leaned forward.
“Look!” Elspeth gasped as she spun round in the saddle and directed Thayer’s attention to the tomb. “My uncle’s grave, it’s been thoughtfully tended and marked with a stone!”
“Has it not always been so?” Thayer replied evasively, his lying eyes instinctively averting hers.
Though he despised the thought of deceiving Elspeth further, Thayer felt compelled to make this one last exception. A week earlier, he had spied Elspeth returning from the burial site of her uncle. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Clearly, she had been weeping.
He had sought to approach her but hesitated when she was met along the path by an acquaintance. As he had listened intently to their conversation, his heart had grown heavier with every word she muttered. Between sniffles, she explained that her beloved uncle had been buried hastily in a shallow tomb. With most of the able-bodied men away fighting in the rebellion, there was simply not enough time or resources to devote to the fallen.
His heart shredded by her pain, Thayer had secretly hatched a plan. Under cover of night, he toiled into the wee hours of the morn to excavate the grave and hew a cross of stone. Upon his return, he uttered a prayer of gratitude that no one had noticed his bloody and begrimed hands before he had an opportunity to bathe.
His secret was safe.
Thayer opted not to reveal his caring deed because he loved Elspeth profoundly and never wanted her to feel beholden to him. He still felt guilty about the advantage he pressed on Faolin and would never make that mistake again. No, if he had his way, she would never know.
Excitedly, Elspeth slid from the saddle and sprinted toward the grave. Thayer set his heels to Ethelion’s side and caught up to her as she dropped to her knees in front of the large cross of stone.
Halting Ethelion, Thayer leapt from his mount. Wordlessly, he stood behind Elspeth and bowed his head in reverence. Her sobs, though borne of bittersweet joy, were heart-wrenching. With every quake of her slender shoulders, Thayer’s world became further ripped apart. Tears glistened upon cheeks effused with a bright crimson glow.
His heart broken, Thayer knelt down to rest a comforting hand upon her shoulder. Elspeth answered the gesture, sliding her hand to his. Thayer slipped a knuckle under her chin and lifted it tenderly. His eyes delving into hers, he murmured, “My sweet, are ye well enough to say a prayer for your uncle?”
“Aye, I would like that, Faolin,” Elspeth murmured. Bowing their heads, they offered a silent prayer together. Smothering the last of her sniffles with her handkerchief, Elspeth said, “Faolin, thank ye for your kindness. But I’m all right now. Come, let us return to Ethelion and continue our ride.”
“Of course, m’lady, your every wish is my command,” Thayer replied as he slowly rose and offered his hand.
With a faint smile hovering about her soft lips, Elspeth grasped his hand.
Escorting Elspeth to Ethelion’s side, Thayer clasped her gently and then swept her up to the saddle.After securing her feet in the stirrups, Thayer mounted behind her and grasped the reins.
“Are ye sure ye are well enough to continue our ride, Elspeth?” Thayer asked.
“Aye, me mood is much improved now that I ken my uncle rests in peace,” she replied in a noticeably lighter voice. “Yet, I must discover who has done this wonderful deed so I can properly thank them.”
Mum, Thayer concurred with a nod.
“‘Twas probably Graham,” Elspeth suggested. “‘Twould be just like him to do such a considerate thing.”
“Aye, ‘twas probably Graham,” Thayer agreed, grateful that his deception had gone undetected.
Mercifully, the evening mist dissipated, revealing the pale blue moon in its entire boastful splendor. Their path lit by the cool Amytal glow, Thayer gestured to Elspeth to grasp the horn of the saddle tighter as he eased Ethelion’s trot into a gallop. Together, they leaned forward to slice the wind. As Ethelion quickly ate the miles, the crisp air lashed at them, stinging their eyes and inducing them to water.
Unbridled, Elspeth’s lustrous hair whipped wildly about, wafting her essence across his face. The sweet, floral, and earthy aroma intoxicated him. Gradually, Elspeth’s nearness was sapping any will power he may have hoped to retain. He knew that he must profess his love with his words before his body did it with his actions. He swallowed hard, his mind racing and his heart burning feverishly in his chest.
Seeking to regain some semblance of his wits by opening a conversation that regarded anything except Elspeth, Thayer offered, “I too, have lost many of my dearest friends and family in the rebellion. Forsooth, my brother and I have seen far too much horror in battle than I care to recall.”
�
�Speaking of Thayer, did he ever tell ye about the night he and I first met?” Elspeth asked behind eyes which glinted impishly.
“Aye, I ken he acted quite the cad,” Thayer responded. Though he was grateful Elspeth had shifted her regard from her departed uncle, Thayer felt a growing sense of suspicion at the air of revel in her voice.
“Well, I wager he neglected to tell ye that he cried like a wee lamb when I kicked him in his leg. He fell to his knees and begged me to stop hitting him. Why, if it wasn’t for the late hour, I would have kicked him all the way back to...”
“Elspeth,” Thayer interjected, holding his finger to her lips and not wanting to hear anything further about that night, “afore ye go on, there’s a confession I wish to make.”
“Aye, what might that be, Thayer?” Elspeth posed with a wink. Locking her shimmering eyes of emerald on his, a brilliant smile crept across her lips.
Thayer grinned as her foreknowledge of his true identity came to light.
“Elspeth!” he exclaimed joyfully while jerking Ethelion’s reins to slow their pace. “Why did ye not reveal the knowledge that it was I? How long have ye ken?”
“Long enough to know your regard for me was genuine,” Elspeth replied, her long sooty lashes fluttering bashfully. “I began to suspect something was amiss when ye revealed that ye knew about my dirk. I saw that very same look in your eyes that first night we met. I also suspect that it was ye who tended to my uncle’s grave.”
Thayer nodded his confession.
“But I dinna understand something, Thayer. If ye sought my favor, why did ye consign Faolin in yer stead?”
“Elspeth, please grant me your indulgence and I promise I will explain anon. I only pray ye will deem me worthy of your attention after I have bared my confession.”
“Please dinna delay your telling on my account, Thayer,” Elspeth replied coyly, clearly enjoying the opportunity to watch him squirm for his misdeed.
“From the very moment I beheld ye, I have been bewitched in body and soul,” Thayer began, regarding her lovingly. “And, though the years passed as a loch’s water passes beneath a bridge, me heart ached to see ye once more. Through the horrors of battle, the memory of our first meeting endured. The vision was like the first beautiful flower to bloom upon a scorched earth.”
Thayer paused contemplatively before continuing. “Alas, surrounded by death and distance, the image of your lovely face began to fade. I began to question me own recall. Mayhap, I had merely wandered into a dream? Not expecting to ever make your acquaintance again, I took to squiring any lass that caught my fancy. Until we met anew, I did not fully comprehend wherefore none could sustain my interest.”
Thayer held Elspeth’s gaze fast. His eyes delved deeply into hers, searching for any sign of her acceptance.
Elspeth lovingly laid her hand upon his forearm and murmured, “And now ye understand?”
“Aye, m’love. Now I ken ‘tis because I compared them all to ye. There will never be another I can love as deeply and as truly. My heart is yours if ye’ll have me, Elspeth.”
“Thayer, ye dinna have to…”
“Nae, please let me finish, Elspeth,” Thayer bespoke. “I did a great dishonor to my brother by employing my influence over him when I convinced him to stand in my stead. He has since forgiven me and granted my petition to seek your favor once more. Elspeth, can ye ever forgive me for being such a fool? I was blind to all reason and now I’m merely blinded by love. I will be eternally in your debt if ye would just say the word.”
“Never mind that, Thayer, just kiss me!” Elspeth demanded joyfully, her eyes of emerald twinkling with mirth.
“But are ye going to kick ye in my shins again?” Thayer retorted, beaming.
Elspeth playfully shook, and then nodded her head. Thayer smiled broadly, and then slid his arms around her slender waist. As she twisted and contorted her body to face him, Elspeth giggled as Thayer had to grab her waist to prevent her from sliding from the saddle. Looping her arms around Thayer’s husky neck, she slowly lifted her gaze to his. Their eyes locking, Elspeth felt as if her heart had taken flight. Every sense was heightened, every fiber of her being tingled with anticipation. Elspeth waited breathlessly as Thayer drew his lips agonizingly slowly to hers. Sliding his hand from around her waist, he ran it lightly up her torso before cupping her chin in his palm. The path his fingers traced along her body left a path of tingling delight, causing her entire body to shudder in delicious revelation. Their mouths met with a scorching passion neither had ever known.
Breathlessly, Elspeth reeled as Thayer parted her lips with his tongue and deftly slid into her willing sweetness. As Thayer’s hungry tongue plied further and deeper, wrestling tantalizingly with hers, Elspeth head swam and her heart thundered in her chest. Her pounding heartbeat pulsed in her ears, drowning out the sound of the flock of grouse that had taken wing nearby. In full surrender by the intoxication of Thayer’s magical kiss, Elspeth felt herself her mind was awash in a heady, joyful inebriation of ecstasy. Her body--fully engulfed in a passionate inferno--skittered and lurched every time Thayer delved deeper with his tongue.
Her heart was his.
Thayer placed his immense hands on both sides of Elspeth’s neck and tenderly traced a warm path downward with his silken tongue. Elspeth fought hard to summon a breath as her every sense was alight with an unquenchable thirst. As Thayer slowly withdrew his mouth, his lips clung warmly to hers.
“Elspeth, there is one thing further I must confess,” Thayer conceded. “My brother required that I forfeit my claim to the fiefdom of Leith in order for him to his relinquish his claim upon ye. Ye see , I am a ruler of naught.”
“But ye rule me heart, Thayer. And that is more than I could ever dare to dream,” Elspeth replied lovingly.
“Elspeth, though I canna offer ye to sit as my queen, I avow this day that I will love ye till I die. When ye are feeling lost, I’ll find ye. When ye feel like weeping, ye have my shoulder. When ye are in pain, I shall share your burden. When ye are feeling weak, I’ll be your strength. When ye wish to talk, ye have my ear. When ye are cold, I’ll keep ye warm and safe. All this I offer ye--but above all else, ye have my heart.”
Sliding his hands from her neck to lace his fingers with hers, Thayer began to gently kiss her fingers. “Elspeth, ye are my life’s blood. I desire ye with every ounce of me being. Please do me the honor of letting me profess me love for ye.”
Elspeth slid her hands around his neck and gazed lovingly into his clear blue eyes. “Ye call tell me later, Thayer,” she purred. “For now, just kiss me.”
Chapter Ten
The moment their lips parted, Thayer slid from Ethelion’s saddle and dipped to one knee. His tunic gaped open, allowing the glow of the moon to illuminate a gem-laden ring which dangled from a pewter chain around his neck. Alongside the ring, a richly etched Crois Cheilteach, hewn of silver, glittered as it danced in the moonlight. Both were of fine quality and brocaded with glittering jewels of sapphire and rubies.
Lifting the chain over his head, Thayer unclasped it and slid the ring from the chain. He first looped the chain and cross about Elspeth’s neck before holding the ring aloft, proclaiming, “Elspeth, ye are the very half that makes me whole, my one reason for living. I love ye with all of my heart and soul. Would ye please do the honor of accepting my tro...?”
Much to his chagrin, his words were interrupted by the shrill cry of a messenger fast approaching on horseback. Thayer looked disbelievingly at the form which seemed to emerge like a wraith from the mist. The wan haze that hung about the sharp crest of a nearby hillock had obscured his advance.
“M’lord, I must speak with ye anon!” the heavily armed messenger bid breathlessly as he drew near.
Eyeing the courier suspiciously, Thayer stuffed the ring deep inside his plaid and slid his hand to the hilt of his sword.
“Nae, Thayer!” Elspeth soothed, easing from the saddle to stand beside him. “‘Tis Randulf, me father’s trusted mess
enger.”
Gently prying his fingers from the hilt of his blade, Elspeth took his hand in hers. Together, they redirected their regard to Randulf.
“M’lord, King John has bid me to summon ye at once to Edinburgh,” Randulf explained between labored breaths.
“King John?” Thayer replied, elevating an incredulous brow. “How the devil does he ken I am here? The only person who knew I was here was Faol...”
Thayer’s breath caught in his throat. Instantly, he felt his heart gripped by icy hands of dread. He realized that if Faolin had dispatched word to the King so soon after their departure, it surely boded ill. Even more disconcerting was the direness of the King’s prompt missive. What possible design could His Majesty intend? Reflecting upon the short length of time they were removed from Lothian, Thayer quickly shrugged off the notion that the message was of an urgent nature. It was just too soon for anything of import to have taken place.
“Surely, this can wait, can it not?” Thayer chafed with a good natured clap upon Randulf’s broad shoulder.
“I’m sorry, m’lord,” Randulf insisted, “but ‘tis of a most pressing nature. The King insists that I personally escort ye to Edinburgh to assure your compliance.”
“Escort me? To Edinburgh? If I am to return to Edinburgh, I am more than capable of getting there myself,” Thayer declared incredulously.
Randulf shook his head. He was not to be moved.
“And I suppose ye are not disposed to reveal the nature of His Majesty’s request?” Thayer quipped, his words dripping with sarcasm.
Judging by her knit brows and look of bewilderment, Thayer knew his dismissive tone in addressing the King’s messenger must have seemed out of place. But Elspeth had no way of knowing that his manner, rather than designed to show any disrespect, was borne of familiarity.