Conquered Heart (Legend of the King's Guard Book 1)

by Kara Griffin

  Kerrigan placed a gentle kiss on Graeme’s face. He stirred and groaned. She hurried past Annag, calling out, “Tell him I will be well and I shall return.”

  “I will, Mistress.”

  “Tell him I love him.”

  James pulled her from the cave. Two men sat upon horses awaiting him. He grabbed her waist and tossed her onto his horse. The knave was as gentle as a wild boar. He mounted and gripped her face with pinching fingers.

  “Be still and come along peacefully or else …”

  “Or else what?” she challenged him.

  “Or else I shall bare that bonnie arse of yours and give ye a good thrashing.”

  She harrumphed, verily insulted, but threatened nonetheless. With a yank to his arm, she freed herself from his grip and turned to peer ahead.

  “I think Robert will regret his decision to rescue you, lass.”

  “I never said I needed rescuing.”

  James laughed. “Nay, ye didn’t.”

  Chapter TWENTY-TWO

  Graeme groaned at the pain coursing through his body. His face felt swollen, and he licked at the cut on his lip and tasted blood. He realized he lay upon something soft. His vision blurred and his head spun. With another groan, he lay back and tried to abate the unsteadiness. Many inane thoughts came to him, and as he tried to eradicate the unthinkable, he couldn’t clear his head.

  Kerrigan.

  In an instant, he recalled what passed. James took her. She was lost to him. He opened his eyes and found Annag gently wiping him.

  “Be still, my lord, you have a broken arm. I’ve given ye something for your pain.”

  “Where is she?” he mumbled, barely recognizing his own voice.

  Annag shook her head. “Gone, my lord, for she left with the man.”

  Graeme closed his eyes against the pain of his body and heart. “Leave me be.”

  Annag continued to wipe him. “I must tend to you, my lord, for you are hurt.”

  “I said be gone, leave me be,” he implored her with as much angst as he could. His lass was taken from him and there was nothing left to care for. Erratic thoughts continued to plague him and he couldn’t reason any sense.

  Graeme lay upon the pallet. A sorrowful, hopeless aspect came and mixed with the unintelligible view. He forbade Annag’s ministrations much to her frustration. She tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t deterred. All he wanted was to wallow in misery. He held guilt for not protecting Kerrigan and for allowing James to best him. His comrades were right. If James was beholden to the king, there was nothing anyone could do to stop him from seeing to his task. And that task was taking his wife, his heart, his existence.

  “Please, my lord, at least eat something. It has been days. Mayhap you’ll die of hunger. The mistress wouldn’t want that.”

  “Nay leave me, woman. I don’t want food.”

  She hastened away when he shouted. Graeme knew Robert would send Kerrigan away, and he’d likely never see her again. When next he saw James he’d feel his wrath with the blade of his sword. Even as he swore to seek vengeance, his mind floated as if he suspended in a mindless whirl. He drifted to in and out of consciousness, his thoughts overlapping and confused. One sentiment kept coming to him and that was to kill the foe who took his only love or die himself by his own hand.

  He awoke and kept quiet, listening to the sounds within the cave. His vision still blurred, his breathing faint, and his mind waylaid. Laughter reverberated in the fissure but he cared not who came. He wanted to perish, to exist no more, and he groped around hoping to find his sword or at the least a dagger nearby. But there was nothing beneath the coverings of the pallet. Voices grew nearer, and he refused to open his eyes, but he heard Brodin’s affront. The words echoed and sounded afar.

  “What the hell happened to him?”

  “A man came. I swore he were the devil, or a banshee come in the night.”

  “A black-haired man?” Liam asked.

  “Aye and he had skin darkened from the fires of hell.”

  Heath laughed. “Mistress, the devil ye speak of is James Douglas.”

  “Mayhap, och they fought because the devil wanted to take Mistress Kerrigan.”

  Brodin tapped him with his foot. “Graeme, cease the pretense. I ken you hear us. What happened?”

  “Go away. Let me die in peace.”

  “Did milady go with James?” Brodin asked Annag.

  “She did, for the devil would thrust his sword into my lord’s chest if she didn’t. I feared for him but the mistress stood up to the man. She saved my lord and left with the devil.”

  “Glory be,” Heath said. “Seems James realized who Kerrigan is.”

  “He’d do anything for the Bruce. He probably had no qualms about hurting Graeme.”

  “What is wrong with him?” Brodin asked.

  Annag tisked. “The man beat him senseless. I fear he broke his arm when he fell, but he won’t let me tend him. The swelling of his face has receded, but he won’t eat. ‘Tis been a handful of days. I gave him a powerful tonic to ward off the pain. He’s been hallucinating, I fear, and saying absurd things.”

  “Mistress, cease giving him the tonic. Graeme detests the use of medicinals, as do we,” Brodin said.

  “Och why when it will aid the pain?” Annag asked.

  Brodin knelt next to him. “’Tis the truth, we’d rather bear the pain than not be right in the mind. How can we bring him back?”

  She sighed. “’Twill take a while for the concoction to wear off for it was a good amount of the white dragon mixed with a potent wine.”

  “Henbane. God Almighty, no wonder he’s rambling,” Brodin said, and stood. He glanced behind him at the table. “He should eat for it might take the effects away.”

  “Go the hell away,” Graeme groused. “Leave me be. I just want to die.” They continued to stand near him and he rolled to face the wall. Every part of him hurt, but mostly his heart and he didn’t want to see them or allow Annag to tend him. He wanted to hurt and welcomed the pain, wanted the agony to riddle him senseless.

  Brodin knelt next to him. “If ye eat this bowl of stew, we’ll leave ye in peace. Eat, Graeme.”

  He knew they would be persistent, and he rolled over and grabbed the bowl from Annag. He scooped a heaping spoonful into his mouth and gulped it down and then threw the bowl at Brodin. His comrade caught it and scowled at him.

  “Let us leave him be. He’s being unreasonable for the medicinal has him ensnared for now. At least he’s eaten something. Mayhap he’ll be more alert when he awakens.”

  Graeme waited until they retreated and made his plans. His mind taunted him with reverberated whispers of death. Once all were asleep he could get to his sword for there was nothing that would keep him from ending the torment of being without Kerrigan or the culpability nagging him about the defeat.

  Night fell, and he listened for sounds within the cave. All was quiet, and he supposed everyone sought their slumber. As much as he wanted to hope for Kerrigan’s return, he knew in his situation there was no way to rescue her. He rolled to his side and felt a considerable twinge in his arm. He got to his knees and began his search. Where would they have stashed his sword? He crawled to his trunk but all the weapons were removed.

  The chamber floated before his eyes. He got to his feet and stumbled to the hearth and peered at the table. That was the last place he’d seen his sword. Aye, when he’d placed it there after James set his there. But it wasn’t there now.

  “If you’re looking for your sword ye shan’t find it.”

  “Damn ye, Brodin, where is it? I must have it.” Graeme looked at his comrade’s face and two of him drifted before his eyes. He couldn’t cease shaking and his limbs were oddly heavy.

  “Sit down, aye before ye fall. Come, you are in no condition to be traipsing around the cave looking for your sword. Listen to what I have to say and if ye still want to do yourself in, I’ll give ye back your sword.”

  Graeme, defeated, fell onto
a nearby bench.

  “I made a tonic that will ward off the effects of the brew.” Annag set a cup before him.

  Graeme wouldn’t take it. He set his head down and tried to abate the chamber from drifting from one eye to the other.

  “Graeme, drink this. You must,” Brodin said, and nudged him with the cup.

  He took it and downed the sweet drink. After a few minutes, Graeme’s head cleared and his body rejuvenated with a sense of awareness. The pounding of his head subsided, and he felt much better. As the unsteady mien waned, he lifted his head and couldn’t fathom how he’d gotten to the table.

  “You’ve returned,” he said to Brodin and the others.

  “Aye we have. Mistress Annag bespoke of James’ visit and what happened. She says ye were under the spell of the tonic for a handful of days. Are ye all right now?” Heath asked.

  He nodded, but said woefully, “I deem I am. Kerrigan is gone.”

  Brodin leaned forward. “I’ve been thinking about your distress, Graeme. I ken ye love the lass but is she worth losing your life? We told ye to follow your heart, but not give it completely. A woman who takes a man’s heart only trounces it.”

  “Ever the skeptic, Brodin. Have you not found love? What if is like to have another person be your other half? To give yourself wholeheartedly and receive such sentiment in return? Without her I am nothing.”

  “Were that I found such love I wouldn’t be in the Bruce’s service, now would I? You place much upon her shoulders. What were she to say if she saw ye like this? She’d be disappointed in ye as am I, as are Liam and Heath. Come now, be sensible.”

  “She is my life, my existence.”

  “I’ve never heard a man profess to love such as this before. This conversation calls for a drink.” He set a cup before him and poured mead from a flagon and drank down a few gulps. “No woman will ever make me love her that much. You’re only thinking with your heart.”

  “I cannot save her, Brodin. Robert has her and likely will send her off to one of his allies. If I go to her, I am a dead man. If I don’t go to her, I might as well be dead.”

  “Ah, a dilemma to be sure.” Brodin poured mead into a cup and handed it to him.

  Liam and Heath joined them at the table.

  “Ye forgot something, Graeme.”

  “What’s that, Heath?”

  “Ye ken we can go in the cover of night and be unseen.”

  Liam chimed in, “Aye, we can wear dark garments like we do in battle and cover our skin, and go and rescue our lass. Our renown has traveled afar and it might aid us in this quest. I’ve heard the villagers speaking and they say we’re ghosts.” He laughed. “They’re all fearful and would probably hand over Kerrigan were we to ask for her.”

  “You would aid me in this quest?” Graeme was taken aback. He looked down considering Liam’s words. “I cannot ask ye to follow me in this pursuit, for you’d be risking your lives.”

  Brodin raised his cup. “We would follow ye to the depths of hell and back if ye need us to, my friend, even to rescue a mere woman.”

  “Kerrigan is no mere woman, Brodin,” Liam said.

  “Nay she is not. I agree. She is one of us now which is why I gave her the medallion. If she needs help, surely she’ll send it to the abbey.”

  Graeme underestimated his comrades. Their bond was stronger than he realized because he too felt the same. They were more than comrades. They were brothers whose fate placed them together. “Still, I cannot ask you to risk your necks for me. We’re in enough danger being here in Scotland and seeing to Robert’s safety.”

  “What’s a wee bit more danger?” Brodin said with a chuckle. “Once ye have your lass back, we can continue our pledge. I ken you are not fond of Robert at this moment, but think on it. He doesn’t ken about you or that you wed her. Robert wouldn’t have known she was safe. He probably thought he was saving her when he sent James to find her.”

  Graeme hadn’t thought about that. He wanted her returned unharmed to him regardless of the Bruce’s gallantry.

  Liam set a trencher in front of him. “You will need to regain your strength before we go on this quest.”

  Brodin tapped his arm saying, “Aye and you’ll allow Mistress Annag to tend ye.”

  Graeme supposed he’d go through with the plan. If he was able to retrieve Kerrigan, then all would be well. “We know not where she was taken or where the king is. Robert was to take winter shelter off the coast.”

  “Whilst ye recover, I’ll find out if there’s word of where she’s been taken or where the king is.” Brodin pushed the trencher closer to him.

  “How do ye propose to find that out?”

  Brodin grinned and tapped his head. “Why through Friar Hemm, that’s how. The friar knows how to reach James and he can find out where Kerrigan was taken. He’s always been able to reach James when we’ve sent messages to him.”

  That got Graeme to thinking about how James found the cave. “The friar, damn him, he gave up our location.”

  “We don’t ken that, Graeme,” Brodin said.

  “How else would James find us? I never spoke of the cave to him and only the friar knows where we take refuge.”

  Heath firmed his lips before saying, “Aye, we didn’t speak of it either. Lest ye forget the friar sent James’ messenger here, mayhap the messenger told James where to find us.”

  Liam leaned forward, putting in his opinion. “But you ken James, he can be fearsome. He might have threatened the poor friar. Hemm’s probably in his chapel praying for his soul.”

  What a cheerful thought. Graeme felt better, and he grinned. “Let us hope he can give us news of Kerrigan’s whereabouts. I want to retch for a sennight. What the hell was in that tonic, Annag?”

  But the mistress didn’t answer and only lowered her head.

  Chapter TWENTY-THREE

  A two story keep appeared over the hillside. Kerrigan couldn’t wait to be away from James Douglas. She hoped once she reached King Robert she’d never have to lay eyes upon him again. He was a fiend nay a barbarian who cared not about anyone or anything other than wreaking havoc on anyone he crossed.

  They rode forward and approached the low stone wall surrounding the keep. She thought he would stop or revert around it but he continued to ride and forced his horse over the wall. Kerrigan gasped for she barely held on. He was worse than a barbarian and if she knew an expletive harsh enough to describe him, she’d shout it in his face.

  Finally, he helped her down. She pushed him away when he stood too close, with a scowl to show her affront. A man called from the doorway of the keep. He stepped from the entrance and bowed to her.

  “My lady, I am Niall Bruce. I assume ye are Kerrigan Campbell, ward to Laird Andrew Moray?” The man resembled his brother in hair color and facial features. But it was his eyes that claimed him as a Bruce for they were bluer than the sky, piercing and reverent.

  She nodded.

  James spoke not a word as he progressed past them to which Niall stepped out of his way and peered after him.

  “My lord, I am glad to arrive at last.” Kerrigan pressed her hands over her soiled and wrinkled overdress, knowing she looked deplorable.

  “Come inside and get warm. My brother was concerned for you. You’ve arrived in perfect time because we’re to have a feast this night.”

  Kerrigan was surprised to find the keep crowded with people. The great hall boasted its walls with fires lit, alighting every nook within the chamber. The steward detained Niall for a moment and they spoke about the night’s activities. A bard requested permission to perform and Niall gave it. He left the steward and continued on. She followed him and he stopped near a man who sat alone in the corner.

  She recognized King Robert for he’d often visited Laird Moray frequently when the rebellion began. She’d gotten a good view of him from the donjon. He aged a little for his face had worry lines, but he was handsome. His hair was much longer than when she’d last seen him. His eyes still had the cle
ar pristine of blue, a color so pure she was certain he could read her thoughts. She bowed, pivoting her knee to genuflect and pay her respects.

  “My lady, Kerrigan, I’m happy James located you. Moray bid me to see to you if something should happen to him. I understand he did not recover from his injuries after Stirling.”

  She shook her head. “Nay, sire, he did not.”

  “Please rise and come sit. Tell me of your travels.” He motioned to an empty chair.

  James approached and stood next to the king. “She wasn’t difficult to find, Robert. I found her in the village near Bothwell, just as I said where she’d be. She didn’t travel afar.”

  She frowned because James lied to him. Why would he tell him she was near Bothwell when she was at Caerlaverock? Yet he’d done so and his falsehood was in her favor. Was he protecting Graeme and his comrades? Still her opinion of the warrior was tarnished by his inappropriate manners and gruff nature.

  “Is that where you fled to after Andrew, Laird Moray, died?” Robert asked.

  “Aye, my lord, along with his man servant Finley and his wife Annag. He left me a small amount of coin which we used to secure a cottage. We made a good life there, and I was settled.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, my lady, for the village at Bothwell is overrun with the English.”

  “Oh nay, sire, for we intended to travel to Caerlaverock Castle’s village. I knew the keep was still being maintained by the Scots and thought it to be safer there.” She should’ve stuck with James’ original location of Bothwell, but she wanted to insert her desire to return.

  The king shot a glance at James before turning back to her. “I promised Andrew I would see to your care. He set a betrothal in place and you are well past the marriageable age. I’ve sent for your betrothed and we shall set the contract when he arrives.”

  Kerrigan wouldn’t look him in the eyes for she wanted to flee. What could she say to refute his order? Moray briefly mentioned the betrothal, but never named the man who he chose to be her husband. “I do thank you, my lord. But as you can see I am well and truly capable of taking care of myself. I was not of need of rescue. Laird Moray never bespoke of a betrothed. I am not sure if I should wed right now.” Kerrigan, desperate to refute his will, hoped to sway him even though she went against his word and had to lie to do so.