Highland Champion

by Hannah Howell

  “I told ye he needs killing,” Sigimor said and turned to start back toward their camp.

  The others were quick to follow him, but Liam stared at the keep for another moment. If this was the sort of thing Sigimor had seen as the result of Rauf Moubray’s work, it was no wonder he was so eager to rid Scotland of the man. Liam was also certain that this was not the only atrocity the man had committed. There was no way he could hide all of the truth from Keira, and he worried about how he would keep her from drowning in guilt she had not earned. He crossed himself, bowed his head, and said a prayer for the souls of the men on the walls awaiting a proper burial. When he turned to follow the others, he found Sigimor waiting for him.

  “Havenae completely shaken free of the monastery, have ye?” Sigimor said as he fell into step beside Liam.

  “Oh, aye, I have,” Liam replied. “’Tis just,”—he shrugged—“they needed a prayer.”

  “Aye, they did. She will find out, ye ken. There is no hiding all of this from her.”

  Liam nodded. “I ken it, but I will try to hold back the ugliness for as long as I can. She doesnae need to see it either, for her to bury herself in guilt.”

  “Guilt for what?”

  “For nay being here, for taking months to return to help them.”

  “Fool lass. If she had stayed, she would have been dead or wished she was. As for waiting? Weel, she needed to heal, and ’tis only just now the season for battle. I see no cause for guilt.”

  “Neither do I, but it may take more than those truths to cleanse her of it.”

  “’Twill fade when she sees that none of those who survive will be blaming her.”

  “Ye dinnae think they will?”

  “A fool or two might, aye. There are e’er people who need someone to blame for every ill. But, nay, I doubt many will think ill of her. She is just a wee lass. I suspect a lot of them will be fair amazed that she actually came back to help them. After all, she was only the lady of Ardgleann for a few months.”

  Liam slowly nodded. “True. “There was no time for any real bonds between the lady and the people to form.”

  “Now, ere we reach the others, I have a question I must ask ye. It has been gnawing at me since we left Scarglas.”

  “Weel, ask it then.”

  “Did I really hear singing and stomping coming from your bedchamber that night?”

  “It wasnae stomping. It was dancing.” Liam had to bite back a grin at the look Sigimor gave him.

  Sigimor grunted and shook his head. “When ye left us earlier that night, ye had said ye were going to love your wife until her eyes crossed.”

  “Mayhap that is why I was singing and dancing. With my wife. Naked.”

  This time, Liam could not hold back his laughter. Sigimor looked both intrigued and as if he feared Liam had gone utterly mad. “Aye, it was a great foolishness, but it was strangely, weel, freeing. Come, there must be something ye do with Jolene that would make others think ye mad yet makes ye feel carefree, exuberant even.”

  “Swimming. Swimming naked with her.” Sigimor nodded. “Felt like a fool all the while I did it, but ’tis why I made that wee pond. Water is warmer in there, ye ken.”

  Liam thought of the pond that had slowly appeared over the course of a year. He had thought Sigimor had made it to hold fish or to attract wild fowl for the table. Not once had he ever thought Sigimor and Jolene were sneaking out there now and then to swim naked together. It would explain the rather high stone wall that almost completely surrounded it. That was not to try to keep predators away as he had thought, but to give the laird and his wife some privacy as they cavorted in the water.

  “I wonder if Keira can swim,” he murmured and grinned when Sigimor laughed.

  Keira heard laughter and relaxed a little. Ewan and her brothers had looked so grim when they returned, she had felt afraid. Their answers to her questions about Ardgleann had been suspiciously vague. So she had returned to watching for Liam, certain that he would tell her the truth. Hearing that laughter, she could not believe that things could be as bad as she had feared.

  Liam saw Keira and felt all his good humor flee him in a rush. Sigimor was right to say he could not hide the truth from her forever, but he was determined to do so for as long as he could. He smiled at her, put his arm around her shoulders, and kissed her cheek.

  “I dinnae suppose a ray of light from the setting sun pointed out the way to sneak into Ardgleann,” she said, exchanging a nod with Sigimor before he went to join the other men.

  “I fear not, love,” replied Liam. “It all looks just as high walled and sturdy as your drawing showed it to be.”

  “Ye went there to make sure my drawing was accurate?”

  “That was one reason, though a verra small one. Ye did a verra fine, verra precise drawing, but looking at the keep still helped us get a feel for the place. Aye, ’tis all open ground around the keep, but it looks as if it hasnae been grazed or scythed for months. That could provide a wee bit of cover if we keep low. Together with the fact that ’tis the dark of the moon, it could be enough.”

  “But it would be much better if ye could slip inside the keep itself and begin the fight right in the heart of your enemy’s lair.”

  “Aye, it would be.”

  “Then I think we must seek out Malcolm,” she said and prepared herself for an argument.

  “Nay, there is too much risk of being seen,” Liam said, shaking his head.

  “Malcolm may ken something that could lead us to that bolt-hole ye are all so certain is still there.”

  “And Malcolm may be dead.” He sighed and kissed her forehead when she paled. “Sorry, lass.”

  “Nay, ’tis but the truth. Howbeit, I think it worth a try. His home is at the end of the village nearest us. Unless Rauf has posted guards at every turning, we should be able to get to Malcolm safely.”

  “I dinnae like it.”

  “Neither do I,” said Sigimor as he stepped up to them and handed Liam a wineskin, “but ’tis too good a chance to not take it. Malcolm may weel ken about which bolt-hole has been left unsealed. E’en if he doesnae, he will have information we might make use of.”

  Liam continued to argue for several minutes, but saw that it was a waste of breath for they were right. “Can we trust this mon Malcolm?”

  “Aye,” replied Keira. “He is a good, honest mon.”

  “Good and honest enough to have held true to his loyalties e’en whilst under Rauf’s boot?”

  “I believe so. I told ye, all Malcolm wants in life is to live quietly with his wife Joan and make beautiful things. He would loathe a mon like Rauf. I am verra certain of that.”

  “We saw no guards about the village,” Sigimor said.

  Keira thought that odd but kept her attention fixed upon the matter at hand—convincing Liam that they should go and speak to Malcolm. “For the sake of all these men and the others who will soon join us, I think we should try to get to Malcolm. He may not be a warrior, but he was trained as a knight. He might have seen something over these last few months, some weakness ye can use against Rauf.”

  That was a truth Liam could not argue with, although he dearly wished he could. The fact that Sigimor thought it a good idea only made arguing more impossible. Liam knew his cousin would never allow a woman to put herself at too great a risk. That Sigimor was agreeing with Keira meant that the man felt that the risk of her going was probably not that great or that it was worth it for all they might gain. Liam sincerely hoped it was the former.

  “When it is full dark, we will give it a try,” he said, unable to keep his reluctance out of his voice. “For now, we shall busy ourselves building a wee shearling to shelter under.”

  “I dinnae mind sleeping outside, Liam,” Keira said.

  “I dinnae want ye sleeping in the midst of an army. Verra soon there will be men here we dinnae ken weel.”

  Considering how many of her cousins and his were there, Keira did not think that would be such a great prob
lem, but she said nothing. The way Liam scowled at the amusement Sigimor did nothing to hide told her that silence was probably best for the moment. In truth, she would prefer a little shelter, even one of sticks and mud, just in case the weather turned against them. She did not mind sleeping outside, but she was not fond of it when she was cold and wet.

  In the end, they had a lot of help. Keira got the feeling that her kinsmen and his thought it a good idea, despite how they teased Liam. A messenger arriving from Sir Ian MacLean saying he would be arriving with his men in a few hours and another from the other laird’s son offering himself and ten men apparently prompted so much assistance. When Keira saw the results, she decided not to complain about their overprotective attitudes. The walls were a mix of stone and branch, and the roof was of oiled cloth. It was only high enough for her to sit up in, but it would certainly protect her from all but the fiercest of storms. With another oiled cloth hung over the opening, she and Liam would actually have some small measure of privacy.

  It was not until well after they had supped that Liam decided it was dark enough to attempt a visit to Malcolm. He yet again offered his opinion that no one could be certain Malcolm could still be trusted, even if he was still alive, but no one heeded him. Reluctantly allowing Keira to lead the way, they started toward the village.

  Liam was so busy looking for any signs of trouble, he did not pay much heed to the path Keira led him along. It was not until he heard her give a soft, strangled cry that he realized they had come within sight of Ardgleann keep. Cursing softly, he hurried over to take her in his arms. She clung to him, pressing her face against his chest, and wept.

  Looking at the keep, Liam cursed again. Torches upon the walls cast light upon Rauf’s gruesome battle trophies. The bodies looked even more horrifying than they had when he had seen them in the light of day. That Keira, a softhearted woman and a healer, should be subjected to such ugly brutality was reason enough to kill Rauf Moubray.

  “I should ne’er have left them,” Keira said in a hoarse, unsteady voice.

  “Dinnae be a fool, love,” he said, pushing aside his sympathy for her grief and forcing himself to sound firm. “If ye had stayed, ye would probably be just another bead strung upon that gruesome necklace.”

  Keira moaned and nearly threw herself out of his arms. “I am going to be sick.”

  That did not surprise Liam. He had come very close to it himself. Ignoring her demands for him to go away, he supported her as she retched. When she was done, he tugged her back into the shelter of the wood, away from the sight of Ardgleann. It troubled him when she sat silent, trembling faintly as he bathed her face with water from the wineskin she carried. He then forced her to rinse her mouth with a few sips from the wine he carried in his. He was now glad he had made them carry such things, even though they were going only a short way, simply because he always prepared for the worst. Still not sure this trip to Malcolm was a good idea, he had wanted to be ready to make a run for their lives, one that would, by necessity, have been in the opposite direction of their camp and kinsmen.

  Sitting beside her, he put his arm around her shoulders and held her close. “I hadnae wanted ye to see that.”

  Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Keira said, “That is why Ewan and my brothers looked so grim when they returned from seeing Ardgleann, isnae it?” She felt him nod, his cheek rubbing against her hair with the movement. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”

  “To terrify the ones still living.”

  “Is that why ye think Malcolm is dead? Do ye think he is up there?”

  “I think those are the ones who tried to defend their laird and their home.”

  “Did none of them survive?”

  “Some. Sir Ian said there are some people from Ardgleann sheltering on his lands. A few of the fighting men, who will come with him, and some of those who worked and lived within the keep. That is how we ken that all the bolt-holes are sealed. Four men ran for one only to find some of Rauf’s men guarding it. Only two escaped to try for another. One lass hid herself away for nearly three days until she was able to sneak away. She told Sir Ian and others how Rauf had ordered all of them sealed tight.”

  Keira looked in the direction of the keep, knowing she would see that horror for the rest of her life. For a moment, she wanted to turn around and go somewhere, anywhere else, and never return, but she quickly shook that cowardly thought aside. Duncan had failed her in many ways, but she would not fail him. Nor would she fail the people who were suffering under the rule of that beast who called himself Rauf Moubray. She might have to depend upon men to actually rid Ardgleann of Rauf, but she would see to it that it was restored to all it had once been. There would probably always be ghosts there, but she would learn to live with them.

  “We will kill him, aye?” she asked as she stood up and brushed off her skirts.

  “Aye, love,” replied Liam. “We will kill him.”

  “Good. Now, let us go and talk to Malcolm.” As she started on her way again, she ignored Liam’s muttered complaints.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Are ye sure the mon will still be there? Or willing to help?”

  Liam pretended not to hear Keira’s sigh as he crept along behind her. He knew he was repeating himself, but he could not fully banish a growing unease. A small voice in his head kept reminding him that she had not known these people very long and that they had been under Rauf’s boot for months. She was wagering her life on what could be no more than a brief acquaintance with the man. The village also gave him a bad feeling. Lucas was right; it was far too quiet. E’en though it was now late, he did not think it should be so still, so silent and dark. Aside from his fear for her life, he was concerned that if she saw many more signs of Rauf’s cruelty, she would be weighted down with a guilt he could not talk her out of.

  “He will be here,” she whispered back, “if he is still alive, and he will help.”

  Keira understood Liam’s concerns. She shared them. These people had suffered for several months beneath the rule of a man more cruel than she had imagined. She could not know how cowed they were. She could not even be sure Malcolm was still alive. The man was a survivor, but Rauf might have learned of Malcolm’s true heritage, and could easily have seen him as a threat. Rauf made a quick end to any threat. She truly had not needed to see such gruesome evidence to know that fact. Her reassurances to Liam were said as much to calm herself as to still his very reasonable concerns.

  She crept up to the small door hidden cleverly by a rough stone chimney and thick ivy. Silently praying that she was not leading both of them to their deaths, Keira rapped upon the door using the series of knocks Malcolm had taught her. Lacking Duncan’s optimism, Malcolm had quickly taken her aside when she had arrived at Ardgleann and had shown her this secret entrance. It had aided her when she had fled Rauf, and she hoped it could provide help now.

  As the door slowly opened, Keira felt Liam move up close behind her. She did not need to look to know he had his sword at the ready. He took his duty to protect her very seriously. That ought to make ye happy, she scolded herself as she studied the shadowed man peering at her from around the edge of the door.

  “Malcolm?” she whispered, not sure this somewhat timid man could really be her friend.

  “M’lady? ’Tis really ye? Sweet Mary, we all thought ye had died!” He started to fling open the door, then abruptly stopped when he saw Liam behind her. “Who stands with ye?”

  The hard, angry suspicion in Malcolm’s voice stung a little, but Keira pushed aside her hurt. She had left these people at the mercy of Rauf for months, had not even tried to send word that she had survived. He did not know her well enough to know she would never betray him or the rest of the people of Ardgleann.

  “My new husband—” she started to reply.

  “Ye have married again?”

  “’Twas, weel, unexpected.”

  Liam edged forward slightly. “The light falling from your open door and all this whis
pering could draw attention we dinnae need. Best we sort this all out inside.”

  “Of course, I am but stunned into stupidity,” Malcolm said. “Come in.”

  Ushering Keira in before him, Liam carefully looked around what appeared to be a very dimly lit workshop of some sort. When Malcolm lit another candle, Liam realized the shapes he had seen were pieces of finely carved wood and beautifully marked metal, a few looking very much like silver. Even the wooden goblets were of a quality no man would be ashamed to set upon his table.

  He said nothing as the man led them to a smaller room, waving them toward benches flanking a table. Liam sat next to Keira and watched Malcolm gather three goblets and a jug. There was a strange awkwardness to the way the man held the jug in his right hand. As Malcolm set it down on the table, Liam inwardly cursed. The man’s hand was scarred, his fingers crooked.

  “Oh, sweet heaven,” Keira cried. “What happened to your hand, Malcolm?” She reached out to touch the gnarled hand Malcolm rested on the table, but he allowed her only a fleeting touch. It was enough, however, to tell her that he was probably in constant pain from broken bones that had healed badly.

  “Rauf Moubray happened,” Malcolm replied as he poured them all some ale.

  “He kens who ye are?”

  “Nay, I dinnae think so, or I would be dead. He didnae do this because of who I am. He did this because I tried to stop him from taking my wife.”

  “Och, nay. Nay. Not Joan.”

  “Aye, my Joan. She is up at the keep. They took many of the lasses up there, e’en wee Meggie, the cooper’s daughter, who is barely thirteen.”

  Keira covered her face with her hands. Her cowardice had cost the people of Ardgleann far more dearly than she could have imagined. She felt Liam gently rub her back, but that touch gave her little comfort. Forcing herself not to give in to the urge to weep, she looked at Malcolm.

  “I am so sorry. I should have returned sooner.”

  “To do what? Die? Be raped by those brutes? Ye were sorely injured when I last saw ye. I suspect it took ye a while to heal.” Malcolm shook his head. “Nay, lass, ye have naught to be sorry for.”