TWO LAIRDS ONE LADY

by John Ryan

  The patrol lingered for nigh an hour, munching noisily on a brace of grouse and conies and grumbling about their lack of success. After they had finished their meals, Brice kicked dirt into the pit and smothered the fire. As the last of the smoke drifted wearily up toward the treetops, the men, addled from the large meal, lazily mounted their horses and headed back out of the forest.

  The silhouettes of the patrol slowly melting into the horizon, Elspeth and Thayer arose from their cover. Stretching their limbs, they eased the stiffness from their cramping muscles. As blood returned to their numbed extremities, Thayer brushed a tender kiss upon Elspeth’s hand and strode into the recesses of the forest to retrieve Ethelion.

  Wordlessly, Thayer led Ethelion back to the thicket and gingerly hoisted Elspeth upon the saddle. A lengthy sigh slipping from his lips, Thayer deftly swept his immense frame upon the great steed’s back and gently put his heels to the his sides. With heavy hearts, they rode out of the relative security of the forest and into the peril of the unknown. Their journey was nearing its end.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Though the day was bright and blue, Thayer’s mood was dark and gloomy. As the pair rode in towards Lothian in silence, the cruel words and wicked laughter of the English patrolmen resounded in his head and stole into his heart. Though Elspeth remained mum about the effect it may have had on her, Thayer sensed that she was truly wounded by their malicious comments. He recognized that Elspeth’s heart, already heavy with worry for her beloved brother, didn’t need any more pain. But with each passing moment, he was finding it increasingly difficult to quell his seething ire. Vengeance would be his now, or in the near future. He recognized it was a selfish desire, but the hurt wreaked upon Elspeth was more than he could bear. Gradually, he began to regain his equanimity. Casting his regard to Elspeth, he noticed her eyes were glistened with unshed tears. His heart breaking, Thayer sought a diversion to deflect her anguish.

  “Elspeth, the lands of your father are surely some of the most beautiful in all of Scotland,” he professed cheerily while surveying the lush, rolling hills.

  His proclamation met with silence, Thayer halted Ethelion.

  “Please, m’love, look at me,” he pled.

  Elspeth turned to face him. Her saddened regard was almost more than he could bear. Gently cradling her delicate chin in his hand, he locked his eyes upon hers.

  “M’love, dinna dismay. I promise ye that I will do all in my power to secure the release of your brother,” Thayer comforted as he gently brushed her cheek with his palm. “Mayhap, Devlin will be open to reason.”

  “Thayer, Lord Devlin is naught in possession of any reason,” Elspeth lamented, the lines of her beautiful face etched with hopelessness.

  “Then, mayhap, he will be open to our bribe,” Thayer suggested.

  “Aye. And if he doesn’t accept the false Stone, mayhap we can hit him over the head with it!” Elspeth added.

  Watching her stoic look quickly supplanted by a winning grin, Thayer burst forth in laughter. She joined him, looped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

  “I supposed ‘twould give new meaning to the phrase stoned,” he chortled.

  Suddenly recalling the serious matter he wished to discuss with Elspeth, the smile fled from Thayer’s face.

  “Elspeth, there is something I must speak with ye about. It is in regards your father.”

  “If ye have any news of my father, please do not delay in telling me,” Elspeth begged.

  “Afore I left Edinburgh, Uncle John confided to me that your father was struck by an arrow during the mission to move the Stone years ago. Elspeth, he nearly died that day. Your father never wanted ye to know how close ye were to losing him.”

  “Surely, this cannot be true,” Elspeth pled as tears welled in her eyes.

  “Tis true, m’love,” Thayer reasserted. “Uncle John granted me the license to tell ye this because he kens how important ye are to me. Nevertheless, please let me continue. As your father prepared to take his leave from Uncle John’s chambers, an English assassin sent by King Edward let loose an arrow intended for Uncle John. Your father shielded the King with his body and was struck in the chest by the dart. Another few inches lower and your father would surely have been killed. Though grievously wounded, your father slew the Englishman. Ye see, Elspeth, the King has a debt to repay. This is why he was so forthcoming to offer the false Stone.”

  “Father told me that the scar on his chest was from a row with Mother,” Elspeth snapped indignantly, shaking her head. “He said she struck him with a heavy stein after he stumbled home one morning with no word of where he had been.”

  “Considering that ye were sprung from her womb, I would have believed that to be true. Evidently, she taught ye a few things!” Thayer retorted with a laugh.

  Casting an emoted, scathing scowl, Elspeth playfully thrust her tongue at Thayer.

  “Actually, ‘tis naught intended to be an insult, m’love,” Thayer chaffed. “To be quite honest, it’s a compliment.”

  Something on the cusp of her field of vision must have caught Elspeth’s attention because she swung round in the saddle. Grabbing Thayer’s arm, she tugged him round and pointed her finger toward the east.

  “Thayer, head there towards that burgh beyond the glade. I believe that’s the town the King described. That is where we will find me mother.”

  “Ye think that is it?” Thayer asked as he directed his gaze toward the small cottages which dotted the nearby hills. Noting Elspeth’s nod of assent, he concurred, “Aye, ‘tis as Uncle John portrayed. And, by the look upon your sweet face, I can see that your heart tells ye we will find her there.”

  “Aye, Thayer, it does,” Elspeth responded as a pensive smile crept across her lips. “And, if me mother is there, mayhap, I should have her scold ye once we arrive. I will have to inform her that, true to your repute, ye have been acting quite the cad of late.”

  Grinning broadly, Thayer turned around in the saddle. Spurring Ethelion forth, they sped towards the burgh, now less than a mile away. As they drew near, Thayer tugged on the reins, warily slackening their approach.

  “Elspeth, Lord Devlin’s minions may have infected this town. Mayhap it’s best if ye concealed your identity for the time being.”

  Elspeth nodded her compliance and tugged her hood over her head. Mindful that her shimmery crimson tresses would likely betray her, she hurriedly tucked them deep into the recesses of the cowl.

  Cantering into the small burgh, the pair was met with the mistrustful gazes of its wary residents. Thayer, with his hulking physique and long, gleaming sword, was a fearsome sight astride Ethelion. While Elspeth, with her hood drawn low over her face, elicited inquisitive frowns of distrust.

  “Who goes there!” demanded a burly Scottish soldier, clad in a heavy woolen cloak. A hood of weathered plaid obscured his face.

  “I dinna see him coming,” Thayer said as his gaze narrowed upon the hulking figure. “He must have been a gifted soldier in his day.”

  Directing his gaze at Elspeth, the soldier pointed a crooked finger at Thayer and asked, “And who is this astride your horse, cloaked in secrecy?”

  Ignoring his queries, Thayer replied, “Greetings, Sir. My name is Sir Thayer MacCourt of Edinburgh. I seek the Lady Fiona.”

  Eyeing Thayer suspiciously, the soldier slid his hand to the hilt of his sword.

  “She isn’t here. I’m afraid your journey has been for naught,” he insisted gruffly as he carefully studied Thayer’s face from beneath his cowl. “Yet, if I should happen to encounter the Lady Fiona, whom shall I say is seeking her?”

  “Colin!” Elspeth cheerfully exclaimed as she cast off her heavy cape and nimbly slid off Ethelion’s broad back.

  “Lady Elspeth!” Colin gushed as he watched the crimson tresses spill from her hood, their riotous curls tumbling about. “I should have ken that I could deceive my own nephew afore ye!”

  Thayer broke into a broad grin. He tipped an imagi
nary cap toward his uncle.

  “Colin,” Elspeth inquired softly, “is my mother here?”

  “Forgive me, lass. Aye, she is in the Manor, just over yon.” He gestured with his stubbly chin and watched as Elspeth craned her neck to peer toward the Manor. Plaintively, she took a few steps toward it.

  “Elspeth, please remain close. I’m promise we will call upon your mother post–haste,” Thayer cautioned. “I just require a moment alone with me uncle.”

  Elspeth slid him a sweet, impish glance. Thayer wasn’t certain if she grateful for his concern or about to disregard his directive. In time, he supposed he would be able to tell the difference. For now, he could only pray that he would live to learn all he could about her every whim.

  “Uncle Colin, would ye mind telling me what the devil ye are doing here?” Thayer asked, lifting an incredulous brow.

  Sidestepping his query, Colin opined, “Thayer, let me ease your concerns. Elspeth is safer here than anywhere else right now. Her family is much respected and beloved in this burgh. There isn’t a tenant who would not do his upmost to protect her.”

  Casting his regard upon Elspeth, Thayer gently admonished, “That’s all well and fine, but all the same, Elspeth, please stay close.”

  Elspeth nodded before ambling along the road, her hands clasped loosely behind her back.

  Returning his attention to his nephew, Colin swept his gaze cautiously back and forth before murmuring, “I was in the hall when ye had your audience with the King. I overheard what he said. I wish to join the attack to take back Dirleton.”

  “Ye heard us through that heavy oaken door? I think not, Uncle,” Thayer waxed sardonically.

  With amusement, he noted the distinct reddening of his uncle’s cheeks. A sure sign he was fibbing.

  “All right, I confess. I dinna hear ye through the door,” Colin admitted with a chuckle. “Actually, the King and I shared a stein--or two--of ale and he confided in me.”

  “A stein or two? Mayhap ‘twas more like a keg or two,” Thayer chortled. “I ken how ye and Uncle John love to imbibe to excess on festive occasions.”

  Colin simply nodded and smiled. To King John, a festive occasion was a very liberal term indeed. John lived life lustily and heartily enjoyed his women, food, and drink. And Colin, a close friend to the King for many years, was oft his willing cohort. He had related many of the most colorful adventures to Thayer. With a grin, Colin conceded that his streak of fooling his nephew had just ended abruptly at one.

  “Uncle, though your desire is most honorable, ye have only returned recently from Sterling,” Thayer said with concern. “And ye were wounded, were ye not? Mayhap, ‘tis best ye should remain here to guard the burgh.”

  “That is precisely why I didn’t wait to see ye off. I kenned this would be your estimation. Ken this, Thayer, ‘tis not merely honor which compels me.”

  “What do ye mean, Uncle?” Thayer replied, lifting an inquisitive brow.

  “That blasted cur, Devlin, is what I’m talking about,” Colin grumbled, and promptly began to pace along the grounds with his hands knotted tightly behind his back.

  Colin ceased his pacing, turned to his nephew, and elaborated. “A week afore I was set to marry your late blessed Aunt Lorna, Devlin stole into our burgh and tried to carry her off. I gave him a sound thrashing and he swore revenge upon me. Now that I have the opportunity to face him, I am only too happy to oblige.”

  “Why did ye never tell me this, Uncle?’

  “Well, when he tucked tail and ran, I hoped we had seen the last of the blasted oaf. Yet...”

  “Yet, what, Uncle?”

  “There is one thing that still concerns me, lad. Devlin has always had an eye for beauty. ‘Tis the very reason he chose your Aunt Lorna. She was the most beautiful woman in all of the Highlands--and still would be if she still lived.”

  “I ken where this is leading, Uncle,” Thayer acknowledged. “Elspeth and I overheard an English patrol speaking of his desire to have her. Ye ken me, Uncle. That will happen over my dead body.”

  “I imagine that is precisely his design. But, it’ll be over his dead body, I assure ye, Thayer,” Colin assured, patting his trusty claymore.

  Shifting the subject to Graham’s and Faolin’s fate, Thayer asked, “I presume ye realize that I mean to seek the release of Elspeth’s brother and Faolin. Is there any word of their circumstances?”

  “Och! Nae!” Colin replied with an angry scowl. “Those bloody English bastards will not tell us a thing! But, as fate would have it, we have an informant on the inside. He comes to us with a report from time to time. A young lad named Brice.”

  Directing his gaze at Elspeth meandering some twenty yards away, Colin remarked, “The lad has inquired several times about her. He’s been very concerned for his cousin. He was always rather sweet on her.”

  Reflecting on the close call with the English patrol, Thayer chortled, “Aye, he’s a fine lad, Uncle. And a very proficient archer as well.”

  Colin cocked his head incredulously and lifted a tawny brow. With a heavy sigh, he folded his beefy arms across his chest.

  “Thayer, how in blazes do ye know that? Brice only took up the bow this past month!”

  Sliding his glance to Elspeth, who was now walking toward them, Thayer replied wryly, “Oh, let’s just say we have some inside knowledge regarding that, Uncle.”

  The ebbing sunlight pierced Elspeth’s eyes as she casually sauntered back to the pair. She smiled sweetly, catching Thayer’s admiring gaze as she sidled to Ethelion’s side.

  Warmly regarding Thayer and the older, distinguished knight who stood beside him, Elspeth mused how very brave and honorable the two of them were.

  “Surely, gallantry runs in the Mc Court family”, she said. “And ye are not so bad on the eyes, either.”

  The family resemblance was truly striking. And, if Colin’s ruggedly well favored looks were any indication of how Thayer would look with age, Elspeth knew she could expect that he would retain his handsomeness. But, truth be told, it ultimately mattered naught. He could be as ugly as an ogre and she would always love him. She wanted nothing more than to grow old by his side.

  “Lord knows I dinna ken what the devil ye two young people are referring to, but I have not the time to figure it out. It’s high time that I deliver ye to your mother, Elspeth,” Colin suggested. “I’ve only known her a short time and she seems to have formed a good opinion of me thus far. But if she discovers that I’ve been here prattling on and keeping her daughter from her, I’m sure to be in a muck of trouble!”

  Colin motioned for Thayer to cast him Ethelion’s reins. As Colin wrapped the reins around his immense hands, the hulking stallion whinnied eagerly in compliance. Surveying the scene, Elspeth’s brows knit in bewilderment. Mindful of the stallion’s fiery disposition, she had fully anticipated Ethelion to offer his customary protest.

  A rascally twinkle in his eye, Colin cast a knowing wink at Elspeth. Catching it, she bit her bottom lip. He obviously knew precisely what he was doing, she reflected with amusement. Unbeknownst to Elspeth, Colin was considered by many to be the finest horseman in the whole of Scotland. It was said there wasn’t a steed he couldn’t master.

  Colin motioned toward a stable boy and, patting Ethelion’s shimmery mane, handed the reins to the young lad. Shifting his regard to Thayer, he petitioned, “Thayer, dismount here and I will see that someone tends to this great beast of yours. Come, the Manor is just beyond that great stone wall.”

  Colin escorted Elspeth and Thayer along a meandering stone path which led to a towering gray wall. As they ambled along the route, Elspeth noted the dense overgrowth of ivy which coiled along the top of the bulwark. It immediately prompted a bittersweet smile to steal across her lips.

  It looked so much like home! In fact, if she didn’t know better, the Townsends had borrowed its design from the grounds of Dirleton.

  Arriving at the great iron gate, Colin waved a greeting to the sentry, who hastily unl
ocked it. Sweeping low into a bow with an emoted flourish, Colin ushered the pair into the estate grounds.

  Sweeping his hand majestically through the air, he proudly exclaimed, “Elspeth, m’dear, this fine Manor was bestowed upon your mother by the Townsend family. Shawn Townsend, his wife, Charlotte, and their two children live in the larger estate, just yon. When Lady Fiona was displaced from Dirleton, they offered it to her as a show of fealty for your family. Your mother vows to repay them, but they will not hear of it. ‘Tis clear that they have never forgotten the day your father increased their lands as a reward for their allegiance.”

  Noting the look of joy and gratitude etched upon Elspeth’s face, Colin petitioned, “Come, let me show ye the rest of the grounds.”

  Strolling along the picturesque estate, they were met by the enthusiastic greetings of workers who toiled in the rich fields of gold. Arms and hands could be seen waving through the sprays of wheat which swayed in the gentle breeze.

  “The Townsends oversee a very profitable farm here. They grow the finest wheat and barley for the smoothest ales in the Highlands,” Colin explained proudly. “They also tend a large heard of black face sheep,” he added, gesturing to a flock of nearly one hundred and fifty head of sheep which grazed in a nearby field. “Their wool is said to be the very best in all of Scotland.”

  Shifting his regard to Elspeth, he asked, “Miss Elspeth, I see ye nod in accord. Am I to assume ye ken of this family?”

  “Aye, me parents have always been very fond of them. And I think me brother, Graham, is most smitten with their daughter, Orla.”

  Suddenly mindful of the secret she had revealed, Elspeth chortled, “But please dinna tell him I mentioned it. He thinks I dinna see the way he looks at her.”

  Thayer watched with bittersweet satisfaction as Elspeth’s face glowed when she spoke of her brother. Though he smiled for her benefit, a bitter fear gnawed at his gut. Graham and Faolin could very well be dead already. Afraid that his inner fears for their welfare would manifest outwardly at any moment, he asked, “So, young Graham is smitten with this Orla. Did he see much of her?”