The Bruised Thistle (The Order of the Scottish Thistle)

by Ashley York

  The fire blazed, and Seumas sat in front of it. The excitement he had felt would never let him sleep. He went outside and returned with the horse. He brushed him down and covered him with a blanket. When Seumas replaced the brush, he felt something soft in the bag and pulled it out. His tartan. Covering himself with it, he lay down to sleep.

  Vivid dreams of his family’s farm, of bringing Iseabail and Calum to live there with him, and of his father, still alive, flashed through his mind. He dreamed of his mother. The fragrance of baked bread clinging to her gown. The way she had looked when he was a boy. Her arms wrapped around him. His dreams were loving and welcoming. His contented body resisted his mind urging him to awaken.

  Feeling as if he were coming out of a drunken stupor, Seumas opened eyes and tried to discern what had awakened him. At the back of the cave, the horse whinnied restlessly. A light shining beyond the cave entrance made Seumas immediately jump into a low crouch, grasping his dagger. He glanced over to be sure Iseabail and Calum slept safely.

  The fire had burned down to embers and the glowing coals would not be visible from outside. Seumas crept toward the entrance and froze when the light went by again. Someone was there. They were looking for something, and Seumas feared it was the entrance to the cave. He flattened himself to the right of the opening. He peered out into the darkness and ducked back as the light passed by a third time, this time pausing a little too long in the doorway. Their hiding spot had been discovered.

  Closing his eyes, Seumas slowed his breathing and reached for all his senses. He focused his mind’s eye on what was happening outside the cave. The light touch of steel on cloth, the slightest footfall, and the sweat of several men all filled his mind. Frustration clawed at him. That was more than he could take on alone. And yet, before his life-changing pilgrimage, Seumas had been known as a great fighter and regularly demonstrated his prowess with as many men as were willing. His father’s proud smile came to his mind. Confidence steeled him.

  I can handle three men.

  Seumas covered his head with his dark tartan, stepped out into the night, and waited to catch sight of the men. He heard voices and walked soundlessly toward them. Close to where he had tied the horse earlier, three men sat around a small fire with their hands stretched toward the feeble flame in an attempt to warm themselves. Seumas crouched as he assessed their mettle. They spoke in low tones.

  “Did ye see if they was in there?” The man facing Seumas spoke to the one with the lantern.

  “I found the cave but methinks we can wait and catch them unawares in the morning.”

  “Aye. It’s just the small boy and his sister we’re after,” the first man replied.

  Another man drank from his cup. He tried to stand but stumbled. Patrick. The man walked unsteadily to retrieve a jug from a leather sack lying on the ground and refilled his cup.

  “Well, I am all for getting me some money, but I would like a taste of the girl as well.” He slurred as he spoke and finished his sentence with a loud belch.

  “Nobody said you could not have that, Pat. Just be patient, is all.”

  Patrick continued to stand there, wavering a little. “But I am thinking I do not want to wait.” He finished off his cup and hitched his breeches up with determination. “I will just make sure she is where ye think she is.”

  The other men exchanged glances, obviously annoyed, but said nothing.

  Patrick turned toward the cave and called back, a little too loudly, “This way, ye said?”

  The man with the lantern stood and took Patrick’s arm. “How much good do you think you shall be if you cannot even find where to put your rod, man?” he asked in disgust as he led him toward the cavern opening.

  “Hey, I never forget that.”

  Seumas backed up against the outside of the cave, effectively blending in with his surroundings. The tartan he wore assured he was invisible to these men. When the two were within an arm’s length, he stuck out his foot, causing them both to tumble forward. The sober man struggled to get out from under Patrick. Seumas connected with a solid punch, knocking the man out. Waiting until Patrick rose, Seumas head-butted him with the flat of his forehead, breaking his nose yet again.

  The last man at the fire tilted his head and squinted, struggling to see what was happening in the darkness. He edged toward the scuffle. Seumas grabbed him from behind, smacking his head against the nearby tree.

  Seumas strode back into the cave, removing his tartan. “Calum, Iseabail, we must leave immediately.” He shook them both awake.

  He tied his tartan around him, dropped the inhibiting breeches and draped the material over his shoulder before tucking it into his waist. It felt good to be dressed so. Natural. He grabbed what few items were left around their camp and strapped them to his horse.

  “Quickly.”

  Calum was awake, but Iseabail blinked groggy eyes up at him, confusion on her lovely face.

  “Here, boy, help me to get her onto the horse,” Seumas said.

  They had her sitting astride the horse while she struggled to make sense of what was going on.

  “Ye, too.” Seumas gave Calum a shove onto the horse in front of Iseabail and handed him the reins.

  “Hold on to me, Iseabail.” Calum took his sister’s hands from behind and wrapped them around him. “We are ready, m’lord.”

  Seumas grabbed the horse’s lead and quietly walked past the three bodies scattered outside the cave.

  “Phew,” Calum said under his breath. “What happened here?”

  They continued to follow a small deer path until the sun was high in the sky. Occasionally, Seumas turned to see both traveling companions still astride his horse even as they slept.

  Iseabail bobbed one too many times on the horse’s back and suddenly jerked awake. “Where are we going?” she whispered to Calum.

  “I am not sure. He has not said, but, apparently, we had some sort of trouble at the cave by the looks of the three men.”

  Seumas did not hear Iseabail ask any further questions. He would tell her only what she needed to know.

  “I am thirsty,” she whispered again to Calum. “And I have to relieve myself.”

  Seumas stopped short and turned around. He stood in the front of the horse, stroking its nose. “Ye can speak directly to me, Iseabail.”

  “I was just saying that I am thirsty and need to stop for a minute.” She spoke in a louder voice, her chin raised. She looked expectantly at him.

  Seumas reached up to help her down while Calum jumped off on his own. They had stopped in a heavily wooded area on the path leading away from the brook, which was now a full-fledged river.

  Seumas handed her the water skin. “Drink what ye can, and we will fill it before we leave the river.”

  Seumas marched away from her. There was a damn price on their heads. He raked his fingers through his hair. He was livid. She had not thought to mention that? Patrick might have been a lecher, but he did not work cheap. A considerable monetary enticement was the only way he would have been tracking them down.

  Seumas had known she was naïve, but now her ignorance threatened him. He could have been ambushed if the abductors had not done such a bad job of sneaking up on them. But was it ignorance? He stopped in his tracks. Could it be she did not want him to know? Perhaps because she did not trust him? Mayhap she believed he would turn them in for the ransom? He turned back to her. She was whispering with Calum as he helped her get to a secluded spot. Did she think he would do that?

  “Do not go far,” Seumas called out to her. “I am not sure how far we are from the next village.”

  She turned back with a smile. He growled under his breath. Nobility could not be trusted. They did not even think like the rest of the population. If he was right, she was playing him for her own purposes.

  With narrowed eyes, he watched her return from the woods. “It appears the generous price on yer heads is hard to refuse. Last night, I stopped three men from sneaking in and snatching ye both
up where ye slept.”

  The look on her face was well worth the frontal attack—her eyes were wide and her jaw dropped in disbelief. She was shocked by the revelation.

  He smiled at her response. “Ye do appear a bit pale, Iseabail. Are ye not well?”

  “They were going to abduct us?” Not “there’s a price on our heads?” He was correct. She had not wanted him to know.

  “That is what they said.”

  “You talked to them?”

  “Was that right before you knocked them out?” Calum chimed in, his enthusiasm barely contained.

  “I overheard them talking. I do not know if they will follow us.” He searched the path they had come from. “Is it yer uncle who is offering the reward for yer return?”

  “Yea.” Iseabail rubbed her hands together.

  Despite his anger, he could feel his ire rising in her defense. He wanted to reassure her, even though she certainly did not deserve it.

  “I have a friend two days’ ride from here. He retains his own council and might be willing to help ye. He is a good man.”

  Why had he added that? She frowned at him, perhaps wondering the same thing.

  He continued. “His lady wife is a well-known healer from Ireland.” Elisabeth’s face came to mind. She had helped heal Mark’s broken heart after the death of his own father. Perhaps she could assist Seumas, too. “If they cannot aid ye, they will know where ye can find what ye are looking for.”

  “You will take us to them?” She stopped chafing her hands. Her gaze was intense.

  A man could get lost in those eyes. He felt a stirring below his tartan. “I will bring ye and yer brother to them then I will continue on my way. Ye will have to fend for yerself after that.”

  “Where will you be going?” Calum asked.

  “I am returning home.” He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “I have not been there since my return from the Crusades.”

  Calum’s eyebrows rose. “You were in the Crusad—?”

  “Why does your friend need his own counsel?” Iseabail demanded.

  Seumas paused. Iseabail’s question was less painful to answer. “He needs protection against people who would take advantage of him and his position. His father has worked for the English king.” Seumas sat down beside her. “How is yer leg feeling?”

  Calum came over to them with the water skin, now near to bursting with fresh water.

  “I am better, much stronger. Thank you.” She glanced at his legs and smiled at him.

  Calum dropped in front of him and did the same thing.

  “What are ye two looking at?” Seumas stood and adjusted his kilt. He found the small bag, his sporran, and placed it around his hips before he looked at both of them. “Well?”

  Iseabail raised her eyebrows in surprise. Was it his surly manner? She shook her head. “You were not wearing a kilt the last time I saw you. Very becoming.” She blushed.

  “I have not felt worthy to dress as a true Scotsman until now.” He adjusted the pin at his shoulder. “If ye are ready, we should be leaving.”

  They followed the path, moving away from the river though they could still hear it in the distance. The sun shone through the trees, adding to the enjoyment of the warm fall day. The damp smell of the river eventually shifted to the smells of drying leaves and fall flowers. A few holly bushes with bright red berries lined the deer path as they headed north. The birds sang in the trees that surrounded them on all sides. Before long, they would backtrack to the east, to his friend.

  Seumas had to admit he was walking on clouds. His bare legs felt tremendously stronger. no longer confined in the breeches the Lowlanders had taken such a liking to. The warm breeze on his nether parts was as sweet as the smell of the heather he hoped to see soon. All was right with the world.

  Chapter 14

  Settled on top of Seumas’s horse, Iseabail watched him as he led them through the barren forest. His broad shoulders shook again with laughter. He and Calum were having a grand time with their jokes and stories. She scowled. So be it. They were men. They could set aside their concerns and make the most of it. She was the one who had to sit and brood over what to do.

  A sudden movement in the woods set her heart to pounding. She whipped her head to the side and searched for the source. Then she realized Calum had tossed a stick into the trees.

  Fear. She was sick of being afraid but it seemed never-ending. She had almost been abducted. Her breath quickened. If Seumas had not been there, they would now be on their way back to their uncle. His leering smile flashed in her mind. She shivered. How could she protect herself? She had no way other than to count on someone else. Iain had warned her not to trust anyone. Would her brother have wanted her to trust Seumas?

  “Seumas?” She called down, interrupting their conversation. “You said you were in the Crusades?”

  Seumas stopped the animal and stood beside her, his large hand on the horse’s mane, a hair’s breadth from her leg.

  She smiled tensely before continuing. “I am sorry. I did not mean to interrupt you and Calum.”

  Seumas turned toward Calum, a furrow in his brow. “Ye were not interrupting us, lassie. Is there something ye needed?”

  His bright blue eyes held her gaze. In her mind’s eye, she saw again the determined look in those eyes right before he had kissed her.

  She coughed. “Thank you.” She adjusted herself, trying to regain her confidence and put thoughts of their kiss aside. His lips had been so warm. She squirmed in the saddle. “Um, well, I was wondering if you had trained many men on your pilgrimage to the Holy Land.” She held her breath. His answer was suddenly important to her.

  He appeared perplexed, the crease deepening as he searched her face. He hesitated before answering. “Why?”

  Damn. He could not possibly have made it easy and said, ‘Oh aye, I have trained many men. Why? Do ye know someone who needs training?’ She blew out a puff of air. He was waiting for an answer with a slight smirk on his face. Was he laughing at her?

  “No. No reason. I wondered.” She looked straight ahead, hoping he would return to the lead and pretend she had not interrupted their fun. Her stupid ideas. Did she think she could just ask him to teach her how to defend herself?

  Seumas was not going to accommodate her wishes. He stood unmoving, staring at her, though she refused to look back at him.

  Calum strode over to stand behind Seumas. “Is something amiss?” He glanced between the two of them.

  “Can ye see to the horse, Calum?” Without any advance warning, Seumas pulled her from the saddle, quite firmly, and deposited her beside him. “I believe we need a rest.”

  Finally glancing at his face, Iseabail recognized the anger that compressed his lips.

  “Yea, m’lord.” Calum picked up the horse’s lead. “Come on, Sweet Pea.”

  Seumas whipped his head toward the boy, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline. “The horse’s name is not Sweet Pea.”

  Iseabail bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  Calum looked at Seumas with wide, innocent eyes but did not say a word.

  Stepping back from the horse, Seumas put his hands on his hips and grunted. “Calum, my horse is called Anselm.” His words were measured and calm.

  Calum’s eyebrows rose at the name, but he shrugged. “Aye, then, come along…Anselm.” He pronounced the name with an added stress on the ‘m.’ He led the horse to the nearby meadow to let it crop the tall grass.

  Iseabail giggled at Calum’s exaggerated pronunciation of the unfamiliar name.

  Seumas folded his arms across his chest and watched until they walked out of sight. He faced her suddenly, his body stiff. “What are ye about, Iseabail?”

  “I do not know what you mean.”

  “Why are ye asking about the pilgrimage?”

  Discomfited by his glare, she gazed at the ground. “I am sorry if I offended you. I do not know much about the journey, but clearly it is not something you wish to discuss.”

>   There was a long silence. Her gaze remained fixed on her shoes. All she wanted to ask was if he could help her not be so damn vulnerable. Maybe she could learn to use the blade Iain had given her. It was not much good if she did not know how to use it.

  Seumas shifted his feet, waiting for her to look at him, no doubt. He had a long wait in store. He could cut her to the quick with those eyes, not to mention seeing into her soul. So why did he not realize she wanted him to teach her how to defend herself?

  She swallowed hard and opened her mouth before she lost what little nerve she had. “It is for our safety. I wondered if you could help me.”

  There. Now she had said it and, in fact, it did not seem so bad. Men did not take kindly to women believing they could do everything for themselves, But this man would surely not care. He was not her family. She was not his to protect. He might even be glad if she could defend herself. He could leave then. A wave of sadness swept through her. She did not want to see him go.

  “Is that such a terrible thing to ask?” She knew it might be, even to Seumas. Iain would have been beside himself if she had asked such a thing. Did he take such pride in being able to defend her only because she was his sister? She thought not. Iain thought he should be the defender of all women.

  Seumas exhaled slowly, apparently cooling his anger. He stared at her, assessing her, his head tilted to one side. “No, lass, it is not a terrible thing ye ask. Ye are in a bad way, from as much of yer story as I know. Fighting tactics are not something I would want to impart to a woman. No man would. Men are stronger, and if a woman thought she could fight a man, she would lose. If she angered him by trying to fight him, her loss would be even greater, if ye understand my meaning.”

  She understood his meaning all too well. He offered his arm to lean on as he led her to a tree stump to settle upon. Then he paced, glancing at her every now and again though he remained utterly silent. She finally stopped looking to see if he would say something every time he paused. She picked at the mushrooms growing beside the tree, wondering which ones were safe to eat. A big black bug decided the one she had just decimated was the perfect one for him. She picked up a rock and squished him.