by Kara Griffin
CONQUERED HEART
Legend of the King’s Guard
Book One
KARA GRIFFIN
CONQUERED HEART
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Kara Griffin
Cover Photo © 2016 All rights reserved – to be used with permission.
Cover design by Sheri L. McGathy - http://coverdesign.sherimcgathy.com/
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental or used in historical view or context.
This book contains adult material, reader discretion advised
AISN: if eBook you can put AISN # from Amazon
ISBN-13: 978-1536917659
OTHER HISTORICAL TITLES
BY KARA GRIFFIN
~LEGEND OF THE KING’S GUARD SERIES~
Coming in 2016 & 2017
CONQUERED HEART – Book One
UNBREAKABLE HEART – Book Two
FEARLESS HEART – Book Three
UNDENIABLE HEART – Book Four
~GUNN GUARDSMAN SERIES~
ONE & ONLY – Book One
ON A HIGHLAND HILL – Book Two
A HIGHLANDER IN PERIL – Book Three
IN LOVE WITH A WARRIOR – Book Four
~THE PITH TRILOGY~
WARRIOR’S PLEDGE – Book One
CLAIMED BY A CHARMER – Book Two
LASS’ VALOR – Book Three
PRAISE FOR KARA GRIFFIN
ONE AND ONLY “I just finished this book ten minutes ago and I’m still smiling. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. ... This story has so many truly fantastic scenes. Oh, the days of men of honor, governed by loyalty, duty, and chivalry. And to top it off, they are all strapping warriors wrapped in the Gunn plaid. Need I say more? This author writes truly wonderful historical romances.” Past Romance, Amazon (reader) – 5 Stars
ON A HIGHLAND HILL “WOW! Holy Highlander! Those Highland Hills will capture your heart and soul not to mention the men. Fast paced and passion filled.” My Book Addiction and More (blogger) – 5 stars
ON A HIGHLAND HILL “This is another all-nighter from Kara Griffin. Those hot Gunn Guardsman keep me coming back for more. Anxiously awaiting the next Gunn heart stealer” Pam, Amazon – 5 Stars
A HIGHLANDER IN PERIL “This book has intrigue, mystery, murder and incredibly romantic scenes that you will have a problem putting it down until the very end and then you will wish it had another chapter so you could keep reading the story. I did not put it down until the last word was read. I recommend this book to any who enjoy historical romance with intense intrigue and suspense.” Jusnana, Amazon – 5 Stars
IN LOVE WITH A WARRIOR “Oh what a great romance lover’s dream book. In Love with a Warrior was such an enjoyable historical romance, I read it all in one night. Talk about realism, romance, passion, a heat of battle, and remarkably accurate history. This fast paced and adventurous plot moved quickly and kept me interested all the way through.” Renay Arthur - 5 stars
IN LOVE WITH A WARRIOR “Tremendously captivating! This was an exceptional novel. Readers can read this as a standalone. This is book 4 of this author's Gunn Guardsmen. I know readers will look forward to more from this author.” Maria McIntyre - 5 stars
CONQUERED HEART
Series Blurb:
In the year 1306, the king’s guard is exiled for a crime they witnessed. In direct defiance the guardsmen return to their beloved Scotland and hide amongst their enemies. All are destined for the hangman’s noose or the executioner’s ax if found. They survive as soldiers of fortune. If you’re fortunate enough to run across them in the bonnie hills and are in a predicament, they just might give aid.
Four men banded together by ill-fated circumstances help those who need it the most and secretly aid their king. As they give themselves wholeheartedly to their daunting tasks, they each find a love that will prevail them.
Our stories begin in CONQUERED HEART
In protecting the King of Scotland, Graeme Cameron will do whatever it takes to ensure Robert the Bruce’s safety. He and his comrades become the victim of circumstance and are now exiled. As they hide, they realize others are worse off than they and hire themselves out as mercenaries.
Kerrigan Campbell is desperate to find her laird and protector’s son. Then she hears of the legendary king’s guard and seeks them out. She runs across their leader in the midst of a battle, but he’s not what she expects. When she and Graeme find an abandoned bairn, he bids her to help him locate its mother and in return he’ll recapture her laird’s son.
Graeme has many a challenge before him – how to keep he and his friends from being executed for doing their duty, aiding the sweet lass in recovering her charge, finding the bairn’s mother, helping their king defeat England’s army, and gaining a pardon for their involvement in the king’s misdoings. There’s one challenge that thwarts him and that’s Kerrigan. She’s conquered his heart and more …
DEDICATION
To my Cameron family, especially my Grandpop (HPC).
Miss your humor, disgruntlement, and laugh.
But to see her was to love her,
Love but her, and love forever.
Ae Fond Kiss ~ Robert Burns.
Contents
Prologue
CHAPTER ONE
Chapter TWO
Chapter THREE
Chapter FOUR
Chapter FIVE
Chapter SIX
Chapter SEVEN
Chapter EIGHT
Chapter NINE
Chapter TEN
Chapter ELEVEN
Chapter TWELVE
Chapter THIRTEEN
Chapter FOURTEEN
Chapter FIFTEEN
Chapter SIXTEEN
Chapter SEVENTEEN
Chapter EIGHTEEN
Chapter NINETEEN
Chapter TWENTY
Chapter TWENTY-ONE
Chapter TWENTY-TWO
Chapter TWENTY-THREE
Chapter TWENTY-FOUR
Chapter TWENTY-FIVE
Chapter TWENTY-SIX
Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN
Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT
*Author’s Note*
Prologue
Clan Cameron encampment
Lochaber, Scotland
February, 1304
Killing a man and watching him die wasn’t always easy. But this man deserved to meet his end by the thrust of his sword. Graeme, son of the local chieftain and successor to the clan, knew he had to avenge his wife. Nothing deterred him from the sacred duty. Not his father’s aversion of Sorcha or the clan’s acceptance of Ranall MacGilley.
Ranall lay on the ground and looked up at him, his expression bereft of guilt or remorse. Only the blood trickled from his mouth proved he’d struck him through his torso. He didn’t show reaction to being put through. The grievous wound would end the miscreant’s life. It was just as well since he’d be going to a dark place where the devil would consume the rest of his soul.
Harsh whispers arose behind him, but he ignored his clan’s affront. Time ceased, and no one moved. Whatever happened, even if he was put to death for what they considered an atrocity, he would face it with honor.
Waiting for a man to
die was even more difficult because Graeme badly wanted to yank his sword free and thrust it again and mayhap again. Ranall betrayed him and took his wife in a dastardly way. No man should touch a woman with anger or vengeance. His foe often taunted him with threats to Sorcha, but Graeme never thought he’d act on those vows. Theirs was a long drawn-out battle of wills and his enemy more boastful than not.
Ranall hated the fact he was in line to succeed their father. There was only one thing wrong with his credence. Ranall was a bastard and even though the clan valued him, they never would have accepted his succession.
Albeit he’d gained the clan’s acceptance, his father wasn’t swayed by MacGilley’s influence. He neither coveted him as a son, nor belittled him as a bastard. Graeme was uncertain how his father felt about the man. His da was not an easy man to figure out, for he wasn’t one to let his emotions or family ties motivate his responsibilities as laird.
The elders concerned Graeme more since they were the last word when it came to clan matters. That was one thing he detested about his laird for he wouldn’t stand up to the council or made decisions based on his instincts. He allowed others to rule their clan. Even so, he held no hatred for him. Regardless of how his father ruled, he was still his elder, and he was still the laird.
Graeme wanted Ranall MacGilley to realize his anger when he drew his last breath. His adversary would do well to know his wrath. A vision of his lovely wife standing before Ranall with a dagger pressed to her throat tensed his resolve. He shouldn’t allow the man a peaceful passing before death. Graeme closed his eyes against the image of the blade slicing Sorcha’s neck and blood flowing from the gullet of her delicate skin, turning her garments crimson.
“Come away, Graeme,” his cousin, Anselan said, taking his arm and pulled him.
He shook his head, but kept his eyes on the rabble at his feet. “Nay, I want to witness his last breath … to ken he’s dead.”
“Your father stands yonder awaiting ye. You should go to him and explain.”
“He will take MacGilley’s side. It matters not. I’ve done what’s right.”
“Aye, mayhap och ye should’ve gained your father’s permission before you sought retribution. The elders are not pleased. The wergild will be high, aye mayhap even banishment.”
Regardless of the wergild, he would’ve done it. The price for killing a man was well worth it when it came to retribution. Graeme wanted to shout his denial at such irreverence. Heedless of their displeasure, he wouldn’t wait for justice and sought his own. It was his wife MacGilley attacked, his wife the man murdered before all the clan. Did they expect him to stand aside and allow such barbarism? A man was nothing if he allowed his honor to be squelched. Honor demanded he take vengeance for his wife no matter what she’d done or was said to have done.
He reached down to grab his sword, certain one more thrust would do MacGilley in, but the rattle in his breath ceased. His body stilled. It was an almost joyful moment. Their clan’s war cry came to mind. He wanted with all his heart to shout the words so every person heard and knew how much he loathed the man. But feeding one’s flesh to the hounds wouldn’t be proper at such a moment.
Laird Cameron motioned to a man who hurried forth and covered his foe’s body with a cloak. Graeme was disappointed, for he wanted his clan to view the body of the man that killed innocents and thought he was free from the rules and laws of the clan.
“The elders are angry you took matters in your own hands.”
He firmed his mouth, knowing he would say something to offend him and the elders. For they should be damned if they thought he would allow the miscreant to breathe another breath after this day. It was best he not respond.
“My son, Graeme, come away. We will discuss this in my tent where we can be alone.”
“There is nothing to speak. You saw what he did. How he cut down a young woman before all. What could she have done to cause his ire?”
No one responded to his question. Graeme cast his gaze through the onlookers and saw his mother standing aside, her hand covered her mouth in obvious shock. There was nothing to say to appease what he’d done.
“What say you, Da, where was Sorcha’s justice? You’d allow MacGilley to go unpunished? That I simply bow my head to him, the filthy swine? I took justice, aye, for my wife, for myself, for our clan.”
“You have no right to decide what that justice be. Are ye laird?” His father spoke low, soft enough so only he caught the words.
He stood defiantly rigid. “Nay, not yet.”
Graeme wanted to shout that once he was laird such injustices would not be tolerated. He wanted them to know he wasn’t going to be a pushover unlike his laird.
“Aye and ye might never be with that attitude. Come away, son, let us discuss this. Your wife cuckolded ye. What Ranall did was wrong, aye, but she caused her own anguish. You risk your neck for a mere woman? Are ye not shamed?”
Graeme caught the blather being spread amongst the clan, but he didn’t believe the lies spoken of Sorcha. Was he a fool? Should he have avenged her? It mattered not.
“She was my wife and regardless of what she did, she didn’t deserve to be killed by him, murdered before all. If she needed punishment, it should have been my responsibility. I was her husband.” He spat on the ground and made certain all saw. His insolence implied, and duly noted by the elders.
“She was sinful and unfaithful, son. You didn’t deserve such a woman, one who took up with another. Ye should be glad Ranall rid ye of her.”
“I verily should have embraced him? Shook his hand and gave gratitude? He deserved my blade and nothing more. Ranall forced her to accept him and would’ve stopped at nothing to have her and he did it to inflict my ire.” Graeme’s stomach churned at the thought that his enemy deceived his clan into believing him trustworthy. MacGilley was far from that.
He couldn’t accept his father’s words. At one time he’d loved his wife and intended to make a good marriage. Where that went wrong, he wasn’t sure. Mayhap he’d gone off to war too often, or sought entertainment with his comrades more oft than he should have. Most wives accepted such traits of their husbands, and Sorcha was no different. She’d voiced no complaint.
“The elders will want to hold ye accountable for slaying one of our clan. You will not go unpunished for this, Graeme.”
“Let them do their will then for I’ve no regrets.”
His father motioned to two of his comrades who stepped forward and took his arms. Graeme pulled free.
“I will not balk. Lead the way.” Acceptance of his fate would hopefully sway the elder’s decision, and even if it didn’t, he’d walk with pride to his death.
He followed the men to the pit where they kept captured enemies. Without hesitation, he jumped into the pit and peered upward at his friends. Their faces long at his situation.
Graeme stood in the center of the pit awaiting word of what was to become of him. The elders would debate for hours, probably days. Eventually their decision would be his execution. They undoubtedly argued whether to behead or hang him. Neither death appealed.
Through the long night and the two days that followed, he heard little from his clan. Someone tossed a piece of bread at him towards morning on the second day. No one stopped by to see if he was well or to give their opinion of the matter or to relate the happenings.
As dawn lighted the hole on the third day, voices drew closer to the pit. A rope was tossed down, and he took hold. When he reached the top, he saw the entire clan gathered.
Fergus, the eldest of the elders, stepped forward. “Graeme, ye ken we all respect you. We respect your father, the laird. But when a man takes in his hands his own justice without the approval of the elders, he must also pay the charge.”
He kept his gaze firm on Fergus as he continued his nonsensical reiteration of their rules. His end would come from the man’s lips sooner or later. Old Fergus dragged on with words. Many of his clansmen said the man was passionate. Graeme considered him
daft and perhaps too prideful of his role within the elders. He definitely wielded his power over many of the other elders and his father.
The elders’ role within the clan often caused contention between him and his da. Old ways were still revered by most of his clan, but what with the turmoil in the south, they needed to change their ways if they would succeed at supporting the new king.
“Many of us,” he said, and motioned to the rest of the elders, “wanted you to hang or banish ye. Och your father suggested an amiable punishment. You are his only son and we cannot allow ye to die—”
Laird Cameron stepped forward, cutting off the elder clansman. “As you ken, we follow Moray, Wallace, and the Bruce in our fight against the English. We will send ye to Bruce for five years of service.”
Graeme rubbed the whiskers on his chin, disbelieving the sentence. Before he could retort, his father pulled his arm.
“Come away before they change their minds. You will leave this day and shan’t be permitted on our land until your service is ended. I will send the writ to the Bruce letting him ken, and you will honor our clan. When your service is finished, you will return and one day become laird.”
Anselan handed him a sack with his meager belongings.
Graeme flapped his hand. “I’ll have my sword.”
Anselan grinned. “Aye? Are ye sure you want to take it with you? I always wanted it.”
“Hand it over.” Graeme would never leave the weapon behind. He needed it for his protection, and he cherished the sword. It belonged to his grandda who took it to the crusades. Its history long and triumphant if given what his grandda told him was true. No finer sword could be had, and he was honored when given it. His grandda had but one request that he use it on foes whose blood deserved the blade.