by John Ryan
With their sustained assurances, Lady Fiona managed to summon a faint smile. She knew that the honorable Knights of Dirleton would never lie about her husband’s ultimate well-being. Yet, she also knew the earl would never allow her to worry.
Just how seriously was he wounded?
Though the waves of loneliness and vexation had abated some since her daughter’s return, they were never far removed. The empty bed, along with the familiar looks of love Thayer bestowed upon her daughter, assured her of that.
***
Thayer’s voice became a little louder.
“Elspeth, may I enter? Mayhap, ye would like to go for a ride this fine day?”
Elspeth couldn’t believe her good fortune. He was asking her if she wished to ride!
Smoothing her skirt and coercing the mischievous smile to fly from her lips, she beckoned, “Come in, Thayer. I am quite ready.”
Thayer pushed open the door. Lingering in the doorway, his eyes swept Elspeth’s delicate form. Once again, he seemed at a loss for words.
“Thayer, have ye been struck dumb?” Elspeth posed with a blithe smile.
“Nae, m’lady,” Thayer responded with a twinkle in his eye, “I was merely savoring the view.”
Proffering his arm, Thayer stood ramrod straight. With a gallantly arched brow, he posed, “M’lady, will ye do me the honor of accompanying me on this glorious day?”
“Aye, ‘twould be me pleasure.” .
Together, they strode out into the brilliance of the morn. Just a few moments earlier, the sun had chased away the scant clouds, revealing a dazzling azure sky which rivaled the blue of Thayer’s eyes. Both the sky and Thayer’s eyes seemed to welcome her. For this morn, at least, she was sure both their hearts would be light.
They strolled along the grounds, compelled to shield their eyes from the blinding glare ahead. Beyond the garden lay a glade which shimmered as ice. The lingering morning dew had captured the first beams of the rising sun and set the glade aglow.
“Thayer,” Elspeth implored coyly as they ambled toward the stables, “do ye remember our little wager in the forest?”
Clearing his throat, Thayer replied, “Aye, why do ye ask?”
“Well, I think mayhap ‘tis high time ye fulfilled your promise,” Elspeth bit her lip in an unsuccessful attempt to stay her triumphant smile.
Stopping in his tracks, Thayer peered at her incredulously.
“Ye really are going to hold me to that, Elspeth?”
“Aye, ye gave me your word,” Elspeth purred. She tilted her chin upward in mock indignation.
“Aye, I suppose I did,” Thayer conceded as a beaming grin flashed upon his face. “And I can see that ye fully expect me to honor that promise. If that be your desire, so be it.”
Was it really going to be this easy?
“Well, m’lady. Surely, we mustn’t delay?” Thayer suggested as they entered the stables.
Offering Elspeth his broad shoulder for leverage, Thayer dipped at Ethelion’s fore. Planting one hand on Ethelion’s withers and the other upon Thayer’s shoulder, Elspeth pushed herself up. Draping her long legs over the great steed’s back, she steadied herself in the saddle and grasped the reins.
Ethelion bucked and whinnied his customary dissent. Slipping a cube of sugar from her bodice, Elspeth offered it to the great steed. Unlike before, however, it seemed to merely serve as an inducement to make his protests more vigorous. Jerking his great head around, the angry stallion reared on his hind legs. Elspeth was pitched from his broad back and flew through the air, her legs and arms akimbo. Sweeping low to the earth, Thayer caught her just inches from the ground.
“Why the devil didn’t he accept the sugar, Thayer?” Elspeth demanded as she cast a glower at Ethelion.
A wry smile curved Thayer’s lips as he seemed to peruse her contorted features.
Annoyed, she opened her mouth to launch her tirade, but Thayer placed his finger gently upon her lips. He had to quickly withdraw it as Elspeth sought to chomp down upon it.
“If ye had merely inquired, m’love, I would have gladly informed ye that I have trained Ethelion to never allow another rider to mount him unless I gave him this signal,” Thayer demonstrated as he patted the great steed’s underbelly.
“Why ye blasted oaf! I could have been killed!” Elspeth shrieked in heated protest.
“Elspeth, dinna ye ken that I would never allow a single hair upon your bonnie head to be harmed?” Thayer consoled as he bent to kiss her.
Elspeth turned her cheek from Thayer, evading his kiss. Crossing her arms defiantly across her chest, she glared at him.
“Come now, Elspeth, dinna be bitter. I’ll ride behind ye in the saddle, as promised. Just permit me to mount Ethelion first.”
Thayer hoisted himself upon the rear of the saddle and reached down to lift Elspeth to its prow.
Elspeth’s pique faded. She had to concede that she was getting her way, after all. Although Thayer drew first blood when it came to pranks, that little adventure in the woods was still fresh in their minds. Her resentment flew as they bounded out of the stables amid howls of laughter from the townspeople.
Thayer had kept his word.
Elspeth chuckled. “Ye ken, Thayer, we are quite the spectacle! We really do look perfectly preposterous!”
“Aye, we surely do, Elspeth.” And now I guess we both learned something from this little wager. Myself? I learned I should never underestimate.”
“And what am I supposed to have learned from our little misadventure?” Elspeth chortled.
“Just that it isn’t prudent to presume anything about me, save one.”
“Oh? And what might that be?”
“That I will love ye all the days of me life,” Thayer murmured huskily as he gazed into her eyes.
Leaning back to receive Thayer’s kiss, Elspeth slackened her grip on Ethelion’s reins. He kissed her heatedly, rendering her oblivious to the fact that the reins had slipped through her slender fingers. The steed, unsure of its course, meandered into an overgrown thicket. As the prickly brambles clawed at his legs, Ethelion whinnied in protest and halted abruptly in his tracks.
Elspeth and Thayer--their lips still locked in a passionate kiss--were hurtled forward in the saddle and nearly thrown from Ethelion’s great back. Thayer clutched Elspeth’s waist tightly as she shifted in the saddle to right herself.
“I guess I learned something else, Thayer,” Elspeth jested as she puffed a wisp of hazel from the front of her eyes.
“And that is?” Thayer replied with a bemused simper.
“That your kiss can be a mighty distraction.”
“Aye,” Thayer replied as a broad grin flashed across his chiseled face, “‘tis a distraction I hope to render often upon ye, quite often.
“Why dinna we start with this one,” Thayer suggested as he leaned forward and planted a tender kiss upon her lips.
A gentle sigh escaping her, she murmured, “Aye, that’ll do just fine, m’love…for starters.”
Thayer plucked a prickly bramble from Elspeth’s hair and smoothed the plaits across her brow. Looping her arms around his neck, she chuckled. “Thank ye, Thayer. I suppose it’s bad enough I possess me own thorns! Forsooth, I’ve grown tired of leading Ethelion. Would ye prefer to switch positions?”
“I thought ye would never ask, Elspeth.”
Sliding his hands round Elspeth’s waist, he hoisted her from the saddle. Just as he was sweeping her over his legs, Ethelion shifted and Elspeth landed with a whoosh upon his lap, facing him. Her legs straddled him and Thayer felt his loins warm in response to this delicious dilemma.
“This is not exactly what I had in mind when I said switch positions, Thayer,” Elspeth whispered.
“Suits me just fine.”
“Och, what is that I feel jabbing me in my left leg?” Elspeth asked innocently.
“Me sword of course.”
Warily, Elspeth peered to her left.
Much to her chagrin, Thayer’s
sword was on his right.
Elspeth jumped with a start and, with some fortitude, threw herself over his lap. Thayer chuckled and muttered a prayer of thanks for the thick wool of his plaid.
“Would ye like to switch positions again, m’love?” Thayer chuckled, his handsome visage lit by a lopsided grin.
Leaning back, Elspeth snaked her hand around his lower back. Stifling a snort, she pinched a generous handful of his skin.
“I’ll take that as a nae,” he chortled, wincing in pain and chastising himself for not anticipating it.
Gently nudging his heels to Ethelion’s side, Thayer coaxed him from the thicket. The mighty steed, eager to stretch his legs, needed no further encouragement. The rolling glades and hillocks that stretched before them offered little impedance to Ethelion and he quickly ate the miles.
Soon, Elspeth had lost all track of time and was genuinely surprised when the sun dipped low in the crimson sky and dusk arrived unannounced. As they crested a tall craggy hill, she spied Dirleton several leagues removed.
Their peace was suddenly shattered.
Thick, billowing plumes of smoke arose ominously from the castle, obscuring its hulking form. Wicked tongues of flames were flicking along the base of the main gate.
“Dirleton is under attack once more!” Elspeth cried in horror.
Thayer roared an oath as he pulled hard on Ethelion’s reins. The great stallion came to an abrupt halt.
The sight she beheld made Elspeth shudder.
Dozens of Scottish Cavalry riders, many bearing Elspeth’s clan’s colored tartans, and scores of infantry were engaged in a raging battle. As English archers rained flaming arrows from the merlons of the great stone towers, soldiers stationed atop the stone curtain wall heaved heavy stones and poured scalding Greek fire upon the attacking Scots.
Her father was surely leading them!
Along the ground, the Scots were using a crudely constructed battering ram in an effort to breach the thick wooden gate of the castle. Many fell in their effort. The grounds at the fore of the attack were littered with the bodies of wounded and slain Scots.
Elspeth’s eyes moistened as she pondered whether her father was among them.
“Thayer, we must hasten back to the Manor!”
“Aye. Post haste, Elspeth!” Thayer reassured as he yanked on Ethelion’s reins, pivoting on the stallion’s hooves and spurring him towards the burgh. Great divots of sod and soil were tossed high into the air as Ethelion dug his hooves into the soft earth.
“Fear not, m’love. Vengeance draws nigh. As soon as I have secured ye and your family, I will join the besiegement. I will see that your father’s efforts are no’ in vain.”
Elspeth’s heart sank as Thayer’s words struck home.
Clearly, Thayer had decided that he hadn’t time to await the King’s forces. She knew he would surely muster any able-bodied man from the burgh and join her father’s cause.
Thayer spurred Ethelion into a full gallop. The great steed’s mettle would be tested this day and Elspeth knew Thayer trusted that the hulking stallion would relish the challenge. As Ethelion’s pace quickened, Elspeth held Thayer’s waist ever tighter. At this speed, it was all she could do to hold on. As the great steed quickly ate the miles, the overwhelming fear she felt in the depths of her heart caused her tears to flow freely.
The remainder of the journey was made in silence. Thayer could think of no words of comfort. He knew Elspeth’s father was surely in the midst of the fray. And now that the battle appeared to be going ill, he feared in earnest for the earl’s well-being. The loss of her father would surely rip Elspeth’s heart to shreds.
As the Manor drew into sight, Elspeth spotted her mother pacing nervously in the courtyard. She was scanning the horizon, sweeping her head back and forth with her hand shielding her eyes from the setting sun.
Espying Elspeth and Thayer, Lady Fiona sprinted across the courtyard to meet them.
“Elspeth! We’ve just received word. Your father fights at Dirleton! He seeks to avenge Graham and retake the castle!”
“I ken, Mother!” Elspeth replied, her eyes welling with tears. “Thayer and I espied smoke rising from the castle. Is there any word of Father?”
“Nae. And I am so worried.”
“Lady Fiona, I will join your husband as soon as I ken ye and Elspeth are safe,” Thayer interjected.
“Thayer, I’m afraid that is not possible. Not now, anyway. Whilst ye rode, a messenger arrived from Edinburgh. He bore word that the King’s reinforcements will be here on the morrow. The King has commanded that ye await their arrival.”
Thayer and Elspeth exchanged pained expressions. Just as Thayer was about to speak, a messenger came galloping towards them in great haste. He had just crested a hill beyond the courtyard and was nearly upon them.
“M’lord! I have word of the earl!” the courier shouted breathlessly as he approached.
“Come, post haste. Dinna delay to deliver the news!” Thayer insisted, indicating the ground beside Ethelion.
Compliantly, the rider drew his horse to Ethelion’s side.
The messenger, though begrimed and bloody, didn’t appear to suffer from any serious wounds.
Without hesitation, he began, “M’lord, though he sustained heavy losses, Lord Devlin has staved off the initial attack by Sir Rhoenne’s men. They call for aid.”
The expression upon the messenger’s bloody face looked graver than his wounds. He steadfastly met Thayer’s gaze but darted his eyes nervously away from Elspeth and Lady Fiona. Thayer could see that the messenger was hesitating from speaking further.
“Well, what is it, man? Why the devil do ye hold your tongue?” Thayer barked.
Clearing his throat, the messenger stammered, “M’lord, I’m afraid that the earl has been captured.”
Elspeth and Lady Fiona gasped aloud in horror. Elspeth quickly cupped her mother’s elbow to support her. The messenger, taken aback, offered no further information.
“M’lord, mayhap we should continue this discussion elsewhere,” the courier suggested, warily eyeing Elspeth and her mother.
Elspeth gave a reassuring nod to Thayer. She needed to hear all that the messenger had to say.
“Continue” Thayer demanded.
“Lord Devlin means to execute the earl, his son, and Sir Faolin within two days unless--”
“Unless what?” Thayer pressed.
“Unless Lady Elspeth is restored to the castle. ‘Tis a barter he proposes. Her hand in marriage for the lives of her father, brother, and Sir Faolin.”
“Never!” Thayer snarled as his eyes narrowed upon the messenger.
“He’s right, Elspeth,” her mother insisted. “We must find another way.”
Turning to Lady Fiona, Elspeth implored, “Mother, ye heard the messenger! Lord Devlin means to execute Father, Graham, and Faolin lest I am returned to Dirleton post haste. I cannot permit that to happen. Mother, I must go!”
Her red - rimmed eyes misting, Lady Fiona pleaded, “Elspeth, the King’s forces will be here by morrow’s eve. Thayer will lead them to Dirleton. Together, they will assay their release. ‘Tis wisest to wait. Ye must trust me.”
Elspeth’s mind was afire. Her fear for their well-being was overtaking her. She would not allow it to happen, even if it required misleading Thayer and her mother into believing she had abandoned the idea.
“Elspeth! Did ye even hear what I said?” Lady Fiona asked.
“Forgive me, Mother. I heard ye. Ye are right. We will await the King’s men,” Elspeth declared.
“Good! Then it is settled.” Lady Fiona sighed in relief. “Now, come, we must make preparations.”
Grasping Elspeth around her waist, Thayer deftly hoisted her from the saddle. Sweeping his lips to her hand, he planted a tender kiss. As he slowly withdrew, his lips clung warmly to her skin.
“I shall return Ethelion to the stables and meet ye back here,” Thayer exclaimed before galloping off.
“Elspeth,
he’s a good man. He would surely die for ye,” Lady Fiona said softly as they both watched Thayer ride away.
“Aye, Mother. But I will not let that happen,” Elspeth averred, her mind miles away. “I will never let that happen.”
Chapter Eighteen
Alone astride Ethelion, Thayer’s mind raced mercilessly. His heart thumping loudly in his chest, he was steadily being torn in two.
His warrior’s heart, the one which now belonged to Elspeth, yearned to join the battle forthwith and deliver her family from Devlin’s clutches. Yet, if he defied the King’s orders and joined the siege of Dirleton before the King’s forces arrived, he might risk the lives of them all. He recognized that he was the most capable warrior to lead the King’s men to retake the castle. But if he were to join the assault before they arrived, would he leave the men leaderless? Would Sir William or another capable knight lead in his stead? He felt as if he were being turned inside out. Each hour he delayed in enjoining the battle could hasten the Scot’s defeat. It was an awareness that gnawed at his very soul.
As if that wasn’t enough, another deeply unsettling thought remained. If Lord Devlin tortured Sir Rhoenne or threatened the life of his precious daughter, would he betray the true Stone of Destiny’s hiding place in the tower? If it was found, all would surely be lost.
Approaching the stables, Thayer slowed Ethelion’s pace to a canter. His mind raced as he distractedly slid the hasp upon the door. Yanking open the gate, he quietly slipped inside and dismounted. He slid from the saddle and stood alongside his trusty steed.
Stroking Ethelion’s shimmery mane, he vowed, “Old friend, I swear, by me father’s blood, I will quell this plague upon Elspeth’s family. By the Almighty’s will, Devlin will taste the sting of me blade afore the sun sets anew.”
After securing his steed and looping a bag of fresh oats over his muzzle, Thayer bolted from the stables and sprinted back to the Manor to rejoin Elspeth. Upon entering Elspeth’s chambers, he discovered Elspeth and her mother quietly gathering belongings and provisions.