by Mary Morgan
Finally drawing near the first horse, Elspeth drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. Brushing her hand over the thick mane of the horse, she was rewarded with a soft snicker. Her fingers deftly removed the leather satchel before she crept along to the other horse. After safely procuring the second satchel, Elspeth glanced in all directions. Deeming it safe, she held up two fingers.
Erik swiftly approached by her side. She could ill afford to find out what the large pouches contained and motioned the lad to proceed through the thick pines ahead of her.
Onward they traveled along the edge of the stream until it narrowed through a thick part of the forest. When she noticed a stone pathway to the other side, she wanted to shout for joy. Though the water splashed over part of the stones, she judged they could cross safely.
Shifting the load on her shoulders, she moved ahead of Erik and halted at the edge of the water. After dropping their precious goods, she bent near the lad’s head. “I will lead you across the stream, and then return for the satchels.”
“I do not need help. I am not a baby,” he protested.
“And if you slip and fall into the water?” she asked, her tone harsher than she intended.
He lowered his head and clenched his hands at his side.
“Aye. You would surely drown.” Elspeth drew near his side. “A warrior—”
“Chieftain,” he corrected.
She cast her gaze upward in an attempt to calm her nerves. “As I was about to say, a chieftain does not take risks unless he is prepared for the outcome. Can you swim, Erik?” She stole a glance at his features.
He sneered at her but held out his hand in surrender.
By all the saints, you remind me of my brother. So stubborn. Elspeth took his hand and led him carefully across the width of the stream. After safely seeing him behind a thick pine tree, she swiftly returned and retrieved the satchels. With careful steps, she made it across the stones and to Erik. Before disappearing through the forest, Elspeth gave one final glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was following. Uttering another silent prayer, she slipped into the darkness.
****
“I reckon ’tis time to see what is in these heavy satchels,” announced Elspeth.
Erik collapsed onto the forest floor. “About bloody time. I thought you were not going to stop until the sun went away.”
She chuckled softly. “Nae. I only wanted to give us more time to slip away from the owners of these.”
Scanning the area, she found a dry patch of leaves by the base of an oak tree. “I believe I have found a perfect spot for us to eat.”
Though the air was brisk, her skin was damp from the effort of lugging the items, and she removed her cloak. Dumping the satchels on the ground, Elspeth stretched her arms over-head to ease the knots and tension from her shoulders.
Her nephew dashed over to the ancient oak and sat. She joined him and shoved one of the satchels toward him. “As my chieftain, I bid you to be the first to bring forth our bounty.”
With eager hands, he lifted the flap and peered inside. Instantly, a frown marred his features and his shoulders sagged. “Nae food.”
Her heart constricted, and Elspeth reached for the leather satchel. Carefully, she removed several rolled, sealed parchments. Tracing a finger over the red wax seal of a lion and along the graceful script, a tremor of dread washed over her. “What have we done?” she muttered.
“Perchance there is food in the second one,” uttered her nephew quietly.
Ignoring him, Elspeth pulled out more documents. Icy wisps of fear traveled across her skin. We have stolen documents meant for King William. When she spotted the apples at the bottom, she blew out a sigh. At least her nephew could eat.
Drawing forth the fruit, she handed it to Erik. “Eat this slowly.”
Elspeth expected him to utter a protest, but he took the offering and ate in silence. After removing several more apples, she returned the precious documents back inside the satchel. Her hands shook as she reached for the other one.
Upon opening the second satchel, she let out a choked sob. The smell of smoked dried fish assaulted her senses. “Thank you, Lord, for providing us this feast to nourish our bodies.” She withdrew the parcels, one by one. After spreading them out in an orderly fashion, Elspeth unwrapped their fare. Not only was there fish, but small pies, bannocks, a wedge of cheese, and strawberries.
Erik dropped his partially eaten apple into his lap. He visibly swallowed as his gaze roamed their huge feast. “You…you first.”
Smiling fully, she held out what she knew was Erik’s favorite food.
“Smoked fish,” he announced with glee, removing the parcel from her hand. When he took the first bite, he smiled and closed his eyes.
Elspeth retrieved the sgian dubh from her boot and sliced into the wedge of cheese. After taking several bites, she cut one of the pies in half and sniffed at the contents. “’Tis only onions, wild garlic, and mushrooms. Nae meat.”
“I will eat that next.”
Her eyes widened. “But you do not care for onions.”
Her nephew pointed to their feast spread out before them. “’Tis food, Aunt Elspeth.”
Nodding slowly, she handed him half of the vegetable pie.
As they ate their meal in contented silence, birds flitted down around them in hopes of catching a stray crumb or two. Elspeth crumbled a small portion of a bannock and tossed the bits outward.
Erik laughed as he watched their attempts to snatch all the crumbs from the forest floor. Joy infused Elspeth, and she settled back against the rough bark of the oak tree.
“Are you finished?” inquired her nephew, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“For now. We must treasure this bounty of food. I cannot say when we will encounter another fare this precious.”
“Aye. You are correct. We must not eat everything.” With care, the lad wrapped the remainder of the food and placed the parcels back in the satchel. He reached for an apple and stood.
Elspeth watched as her nephew tossed the fruit playfully into the air. It was the first time since their escape from Steinn Castle that she’d witnessed a relaxed child at play. Will I ever see this side of you again, sweet nephew? Or will the hardships of our journey harden you?
On a sigh, she closed her eyes and let the cool breezes relax her limbs.
Blood spewed forth from his lips—his eyes wide with horror.
Elspeth clamped a hand over her mouth to squelch the scream, yet it was lodged in her throat. There was nothing she could do for him. The blade had struck a deadly blow, ending his life in seconds.
He sputtered out one final word. One final request he required of his sister. Whatever the risks, Elspeth knew what to do.
Find Erik.
Elspeth woke on a choked sob, tears streaming down her face. Bringing her knees to her chest, she tried to control her racing heart. The images of that horrific night struck with a vengeance. “You should not have died, Brother. I promise to avenge the injustice and take back what is ours—what belongs to Erik.”
“An enemy of the king is an enemy of ours,” announced the low male voice.
Startled by the appearance of two men emerging from the trees, Elspeth stood abruptly. They reminded her of the Northmen who had descended on their home. Had she and Erik been found so easily?
One of the men bore a jagged scar across his chin. His dark, menacing eyes pierced into hers, and she trembled. Fear rooted in her spine as she swept her gaze in all directions for her nephew. Were there others? Did they have Erik tied up somewhere? She cursed herself for falling asleep and allowing harm to come to the lad. She was his last protector, and she had failed.
“Who is this Erik you speak of?” asked the other man, steadily approaching her. His lip curled in disgust as he slowly unsheathed his sword.
Hope flared within her. Thank you, God! The lad must have fled.
She swallowed in an attempt to calm her voice. “It was only a
dream.”
Her breathing hitched as she watched the pair advance toward her. The tree held her trapped without a means of escaping. All hope of seeing her nephew to safety had been for nothing. She blinked back the tears smarting her eyes. Seek me out at Heaven’s gate, Thomas. I pray I find you there.
Somewhere a spark of courage wove its way into Elspeth’s quaking body, and she lifted her chin. She clamped a hand over the dirk at her belt.
Both men halted.
“I will not go willingly,” she stated with determination, withdrawing her dirk.
The man with the scar smiled slowly. “Care to make a wager, Ivar?”
“Aye. I say you can disarm her in two seconds, Bjorn.”
“Nae, Ivar. She will drop the blade on the ground willingly.”
“You tempt fate, my friend.”
The man called Bjorn sheathed his sword.
Cold sweat broke out along Elspeth’s body. The eyes of the monster turned from pale blue to black in a second, followed by a blood chilling growl. Her grip tightened as she stepped away from the oak.
“Then let death take me, but you devil shall not,” she whispered.
“Nae! Leave her alone!” shouted Erik, as he came charging to her side with his small blade held outward at the monsters.
Everything tumbled in a flash of colors and movement. Where only moments before Erik had been standing in front of her, he was now bound in the arms of the monster called Bjorn. Her blade had been wrenched free from her hand and now secured in the hands of the other monster.
Erik continued to squirm and thrash in an attempt to free himself.
“Stop!” snarled Bjorn.
“I beg you, please release my nephew,” pleaded Elspeth. “He means you nae harm. Erik—”
“Erik?” The man glanced swiftly at the lad struggling to free himself.
“Aye. ’Tis my name, you savage. I am the chieftain of Castle Steinn.” Her nephew met the stony glare of the monster.
The blood drained from Elspeth’s face. Dread invaded every pore within her body. The lad had revealed too much. She clutched a fist to her chest. “Nae,” she mumbled.
Shock registered across her nephew’s captor, and he instantly released his hold. Placing Erik on the ground, the man was rewarded with a kick to his shin, but Elspeth doubted he even felt the attack.
Erik promptly returned to her side. Though she saw the fear reflected within his eyes as he took a hold of her hand.
“For the love of Odin, how can this be?” asked Ivar. “Why are they here? And why did they steal our provisions?”
Confusion marred the features of the one called Bjorn. He stepped away and went toward the satchels.
“We were hungry,” blurted out Elspeth. “I…I did not ken about the important missives for the king.” She grew weary of the battle with these men and prayed they would spare their lives.
Bjorn handed the satchels to Ivar and then regarded Elspeth. “I ken the chieftain of Castle Steinn. He goes by the name of Thomas.”
Elspeth drew her nephew closer to her side. “My brother was slain days ago. This is his son, Erik.”
The man blew out a curse. Raking a hand through his hair, he withdrew his sword. The light danced off the blade.
Unable to move, Elspeth held her breath for the fatal blow to slash across her body. Yet it never came.
Bjorn knelt on one knee and placed his blade on the ground in front of Erik. “As I made an oath to your father on the day he became chieftain, I do so again in front of you. My blade and sword arm are yours. Though my allegiance is to King William as part of the elite guard, I pledge to protect you and those under your protection. We shall see you and your aunt safely to the king.”
Erik moved away from the safety of Elspeth and placed his tiny hand on the man’s shoulder. “Thank you, Bjorn.”
The other man came forward and did the same in front of her nephew. Elspeth watched in stunned silence at the change that had come over these men. From enemy to angels sent from God. Once, she had heard her brother speak of the special guards that worked for the king. He regarded them with the utmost respect, but feared them as well. Elspeth tried to recall something else her brother had mentioned about these men.
Bjorn dipped his head toward her. “Forgive us for the harm that has befallen you. These lands have seen many come under attack. We cannot be led astray even by a lone woman and lad traveling these parts. Had we known who you were, I can assure you a much kinder approach. How did you come to be so far away from the castle?”
Elspeth laughed bitterly and moved away from her nephew, who was now speaking softly to Ivar. The air had chilled considerably, and she went to retrieve her cloak. She glanced sharply at Bjorn. “During the battle after the death of my brother, I managed to find Erik and flee the castle.”
“Then how fortunate we were in the area.”
“And that you had food,” added Elspeth, giving the man a tight smile.
He scratched the side of his face. “Aye. In truth, we were on our way to your brother. We had a writ from the king for him.” Bjorn cast his sight to her nephew. “Which now must be read to the new chieftain.”
Brushing out the leaves and dirt on her cloak, Elspeth wrapped the garment around her shoulders. “Nae need. My new chieftain might be a lad of seven winters, but I can assure you, he is capable of reading the script of King William.”
Chapter Six
Castle Vargr, Scotland ~ Clan Sutherland
With steely calm, Magnar waited for his king to respond. King William stared aimlessly out the arched window. The man had neither moved nor uttered a word since Magnar had shared the news about his twin brother.
The air within the small chamber felt chilled even with the heat of the fire in the hearth.
Upon his return to the Earl of Sutherland’s stronghold, Magnar had immediately requested a meeting in private with the king. Aye, he realized his grave error in not reporting the information his mother shared with him earlier last year. But now was not the time to ask the king for his absolution.
By outward appearance, the king was not pleased. And Magnar offered no apology either.
“Do you believe in the one God?” inquired the king softly.
Magnar gritted his teeth. You ken who we are and what you call our heathen ways. “I follow the old beliefs.”
William glanced sharply over his shoulder at him. “That is not what I asked.”
“I do not ken your God. So, nae.”
The king resumed his focus on the landscape below. “’Tis a pity.”
Unsure how to reply, Magnar remained silent. He could not fathom this direction of conversation.
“I do not ken why God has deemed men to be part man and wolf.” He gestured outward. “To me, magic is evil.”
Magnar shifted his stance. His respect for his king was absolute, but the man’s words unsettled him. His blood flowed with the magic of the old beliefs. Ancient, commanding, and a verra part of his soul. Had the time come for the king to disband the ancient order?
“Yet those within the brotherhood are honorable, loyal, and good men,” uttered the king softly. “Perchance one day you will seek out my Lord.” He turned from the window. Crossing the room, he came and stood before Magnar. “The news you have brought me disturbs the balance within the brotherhood. Is this a new evil that will threaten us?”
Magnar blew out a frustrated breath. “There shall always be battles between good and evil. Do not your own holy stories speak of two brothers—”
“Aye, the Scriptures,” interjected William, rubbing a hand through his beard. He narrowed his eyes. “You have heard the tales?”
Giving the man a tight smile, Magnar nodded. “Call me a well-read heathen.”
William chuckled and wagged a finger in front of him. “Be warned. Brother Calum does not favor those who read his scrolls. He considers the holy words sacred and not to be viewed by any except members within the order of monks and bishops. I find nae objecti
on to others reading what has been written down. I believe these teachings should be read by any who wish to learn about our Lord. Yet I am not ready to battle the bishops over the teachings of theology.”
Shrugging, Magnar replied, “Then tell Brother Calum not to leave his parchments lying around for others to read.”
The king arched a brow. “I have only witnessed him doing so in his chambers here and at the abbey.”
“I studied with Brother Stephen many moons ago in an attempt to gain insight into the thievery of certain relics. I grew curious during my time there and came upon the scrolls lying on a table. I did not ken they belonged to Brother Calum.”
“Interesting,” mused the king. “Brother Stephen never mentioned your visit. Currently, the holy scrolls are under the care and protection of Brother Calum.”
Curious, Magnar asked, “Would you have forbidden me from entering the grounds of the abbey?”
William shook his head and started for the table. Reaching for a jug of ale, he poured some into two cups. He handed one to Magnar. “All are welcome at God’s table. Especially those who wish to learn about our Lord. If I had known, I would have greatly approved of the monks sharing the knowledge with you. As you ken, there is only one amongst you who follows our belief.”
“Aye. Gunnar,” admitted Magnar. It proved to be an endless topic of conversation within the brotherhood. The lone man who refused to join in their feast days.
William laughed. “You should name him Gunnar the Peacemaker.
“And all are welcome in the house of Odin,” offered Magnar.
The king snorted and gestured for Magnar to take a seat. “Nevertheless, we must decide on what to do about your brother.”
After taking a sip of ale, he leaned back in his chair. “I must first find Thorfinn.”
The king’s lips thinned. “Where?”
“I reckon he is here in Scotland.”
“Purpose?”
“Unsure.”
William studied him. “Are you undecided on what to share with me?”
“To spout untruths without any facts is not wise,” countered Magnar.