She sat silent for a long time, staring down at her lap. The Black Banner was real? He was a real man, and she was married to him.
She was married to a man who’d murdered and stolen, all in the name of his own benefit.
Nay. Ye’re married to a man who would risk his life to save Alex’s.
‘Twas true. She’d only known him a short amount of time, but she’d come to know Tavish as an honorable man. A man she felt certain of her future with.
“And now?” she whispered, finally.
“Now, what?”
Glancing up, she caught and held his gaze. “Tavish, are ye still the Black Banner? Ye carry these sails with ye. Do ye still wear the black kilt from legends?”
He seemed to be considering his words carefully. “Aye…at times. Sometimes, the missions Charlotte gives us are simple and can be carried out as a captain of a simple trading vessel. But sometimes, a bit of theatrics is required. Like now.”
“And ye become the Black Banner again then?”
Blowing out a breath, he reached for her hand again. “As the Black Banner, we can attack Barra. ‘Twill be certain to draw MacNeil’s men from his fortress; it has been a decade since the Black Banner raided Barra’s shores.”
She studied his face. “So what ye’re saying is that now, the Black Banner works for the throne. He still raids and attacks, but now he—ye—do it on behalf of Scotland’s interests. Rather like the Angels.”
Slowly, his shoulders straightened as he considered her words. “Well…aye. Aye, I suppose that is correct.”
‘Twas her turn to squeeze his hands. “Then I was right. Nae matter what ye’ve left in yer past, Tavish, ye are a good and honorable man. Brave and true and devoted. I am blessed to have ye as my husband.”
‘Twas not until the words had left her lips that she realized they were true. She was blessed. And from the way his face split into a smile, and he yanked her forward into a kiss, he agreed.
After a beautiful eternity, he pulled his lips away from hers. He was still smiling, and she had to chuckle at the sight.
“Tavish, I hate the thought of ye in danger, but I admit an attack by the Black Banner would, for certes, draw out MacNeil’s men.”
“And I hate the thought of ye and Dane in danger—thank the saints Margaret is at least safe back on Dunvegan—but I ken, while we’re drawing the bastard out, the two of ye can slip into Kisimul and out again without raising a fuss.”
Such a simple way to describe what was likely to be fraught with terror. She lifted her palm and placed it on his cheek.
“But I have something for ye to consider. Ye are now a husband and have agreed to help me raise Alex to become a good steward for the people of Carrick. Ye cannae do that as the Black Banner.”
“I’m nae more the Black Banner than ye are a spy, love. We only become those things when duty calls.” His smile was a little sad. “Will ye cease to be one of Charlotte’s Angels when ye leave Scone?”
She’d never considered that.
She was a mother and now a wife. Mayhap she’d be a mother again someday. She wanted the peace of living with her new family in Carrick, building a future together. Did that mean giving up her place as an Angel?
And what if it did? Ye never were verra good at it.
‘Twas true. She never took to espionage the way Courtney, Melisandre and Rosalind had, but she was good enough at ferreting out information. And since her son’s kidnapping, Tavish had shown her she was good at planning and leadership as well.
But was she an Angel?
“I—I dinnae ken,” she finally whispered.
“Land ahead!” came a shout from the bow, and Tavish spun away from her to acknowledge Tosh.
When he turned back, his smile was still a little sad. “Hold that thought, love.” He leaned down for a quick kiss. “We have a plan to implement.”
“Beware the Black, eh?” she whispered.
And his grin turned proud. “Aye, wife. Beware the Black!”
Chapter 11
Tosh held the small skiff steady as Isabel and Dane prepared to leave the crew. They were tucked behind a little spit of land, just out of sight of the main village on Castlebay. Still, everyone worked in silence, without torches, and thankful for the moon overhead.
They were a day ahead of schedule, and God willing, MacNeil wouldn’t suspect the attack was linked to his ultimatum.
As Tavish pulled his son into his arms, Isabel eyed him in the dark kilt. She knew it was black, the same as the other men wore, to hide their clan affiliation. But still, it was strange to see him like that: a sort of ghost, striking from the darkness.
She didn’t like it.
“Stay safe, lad,” Tavish whispered gruffly, pounding his son on his back. Dane’s arms were wrapped tight around him, his face buried in his father’s shoulder. “I’ll be most displeased if aught happens to ye because of yer damn-fool bravery.”
“Aye, Da,” the lad whispered. “I learned from the best.”
“ ’Tis what I’m afraid of.” Giving him one last squeeze, Tavish straightened. “And do yer best to keep my wife safe, aye? I’m relying on ye, Dane.”
The lad’s shoulders straightened with pride, and he touched the small blade at his belt as he nodded.
Isabel closed her eyes and breathed a silent prayer he’d have no need to use it.
When she glanced back once more, Tavish was handing his son down into the skiff. Then he held out his hand for her, and when she took it, he pulled her into a kiss. ‘Twas hard and fast and over before she really knew it was coming, but his lips found her ear.
“The same goes for ye, wife. Dinnae do aught stupid. If this doesnae work, we’ll find another way to get Alex, I swear.”
With a faint smile, she touched his cheek. “Ye’re the one about to go into battle.”
“Then why does it feel as if my heart is rowing off in that damned skiff?”
‘Twas a sweet thing to say, despite the gruffness, and if Isabel wasn’t in love with her husband already, she was afraid that would’ve sealed it.
“I’ll keep Dane safe,” she promised, not certain how to respond to his fervent question.
“Ye just focus on Alex. I trust my son to stay out of trouble.” This last part was hissed loudly enough for the lad to hear, as Tavish handed her down into the skiff.
With her now standing at water level, he towered above her, but he still glared down at the two of them. “I mean it, Isabel. Ye must stay safe.”
“I love ye.”
She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, especially not now, when he must have a hundred other things on his mind. But in that moment, with them both going off to face danger, she needed him to hear it.
She didn’t think he was the only one to suck in a startled breath at that admission, but even in the moonlight, she could see his eyes go wide as he nodded once, firmly, in acknowledgement.
If she were waiting for him to declare his love in return, apparently, she’d have to wait. Tavish turned to Tosh and jerked his chin, and the big man began paying out the skiff’s line. Behind her, Dane settled on the rowing bench, and Isabel knew she ought to sit down and keep her balance, but she couldn’t resist one last glimpse of Tavish.
It might be yer last.
And then he was moving, darting forward. Although the skiff was already beginning to drift away, he reached for her, and she reached for him, and then she was in his arms, anchoring the skiff to the birlinn once more.
This kiss was not hard and fast, but slow and deep and full of all the feelings she hadn’t been able to put into words. With a moan, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on for dear life.
When it was over—a thousand heartbeats later, and a thousand heartbeats too soon—he dropped his forehead to hers, his breathing ragged.
“Go,” he whispered, “and keep yerself safe. I’ll worry over both of ye.”
“And I’ll worry for ye,” she replied hoarsely, not certain why th
at last kiss had affected her so.
But she was still thinking of it, her fingers gently resting on her lips, an hour later as she and Dane sat in the darkness beside a small pier, just one skiff among many, waiting for the signal.
The lad was sitting, elbows on his knees, and she thought he might be watching her, but ‘twas hard to tell in the shadow. He’d handled the oars of the borrowed skiff with skill and grace, and despite his youth, she was pleased to have him at her side.
“Milady, I have a question.”
She smiled slightly. “Is it about why ye’re still calling me milady, even though I’ve married yer father?”
“Well…aye.”
Pleased for the distraction, Isabel let out a soft chuckle. “I’ve kenned ye both but a short time, but I believed yer father a man honorable enough to marry so quickly to protect my son. And me.”
“He is,” came the lad’s immediate defense. “Ye shouldnae allow what he did in the past to change yer judgement.”
She nodded slightly, knowing he couldn’t see it. Even that small movement sent the skiff rocking, and she reached for the gunwale to steady herself. “Ye’re a verra smart lad—nay, young man. Aye, what I learned today hasnae changed my opinion about him.” Her gaze drifted to the distant town, on the other side of the spit of land, where she knew the attack would come. “Although I do worry about him,” she admitted in a whisper.
“As do I.”
At the lad’s quiet agreement, Isabel kenned she had to answer his original question. Fumbling forward, she managed to find the lad’s hand in one of hers and held it gently.
“I ken ye’re half-grown already, Dane, and I would no’ be hurt if ye decided to call me Isabel, as yer father does. But Alex calls me Mother.” She cleared her throat, not certain exactly how to speak to a lad of his years, nearly a young man. “If ye would like— I mean, I would be honored— Nay, I mean, if ye would like, ye should feel welcome to call me—”
When she cut herself off, yet again, she felt Dane’s fingers squeeze hers.
“Thank ye…Mother.”
Blowing out a breath, she squeezed him in return. “Ye’re welcome, son.”
She wasn’t sure how he would’ve responded, because at that moment, Dane’s head suddenly jerked around, his attention on the distant town. Soon, Isabel could hear what he’d heard; the distant shouts and commotion signaling an attack in the dead of night.
Soon, bells began ringing, and she could smell the acrid scent of smoke wafting in the night breeze. “Now all we have to do is wait,” she whispered, as she pulled her hand from Dane’s. “Surely a pirate attack will draw MacNeil out.”
The lad shipped the oars once more, preparing to shove off. “Dinnae worry. Da willnae hurt anyone he doesnae have to.”
Amused by the fact this lad was trying to comfort her, she nodded. “We’ll be able to rescue Alex soon.”
“Aye. MacNeil willnae guess the attack is a distraction, no’ with a full day left in the deadline.”
Together, they sat in silence, listening to the commotion and the sounds of battle growing stronger. Actually, Isabel was comforted to realize it was mainly confused shouts and screaming, and very little actual battle sounds…although she’d be hard-pressed to identify what, exactly, a “battle sound” was.
Mayhap ‘tis better that way.
“Look,” Dane suddenly hissed, and she twisted in her seat.
From the docks by the main part of town, a pair of skiffs were shoving off, heading for Kisimul Castle. Soon they were joined by others, and the voices of the rowers echoed across the water, bringing Isabel the words, “The Black Banner!”
Aye, the plan was working.
She and Dane held their breaths as they watched the townspeople reach the castle and demand entrance. After a while, lights began to blaze inside the stone structure, and then men began pouring out. In the torchlight, she could see their MacNeil plaids and the swords they carried.
Please, Blessed Virgin, keep my husband safe. And my son.
“I dinnae see MacNeil,” Dane hissed, “but ‘tis too far away to be certain of aught.”
She nodded in agreement, and as the men from the castle began to be ferried back to shore, she said, “Let us be off then.”
It took them barely any time at all to row to the castle, and they were able to approach from the far side. As Dane pulled the skiff ashore on the rocks, she tucked her skirts up, glad she was wearing trousers under them, and then they both began to creep toward the back entrance.
Once inside, she led the lad toward the staircase. The great hall was ahead of them, and she could hear men calling orders, but hopefully they’d be too busy to notice two shadows sneaking about.
Pulling Dane to a stop, she placed her mouth near his ear. “Alex is upstairs,” she breathed. “I think the third chamber, but cannae be certain.”
Instead of answering, the lad merely nodded, showing he was ready. The pair began to creep toward the steps, but a voice from the great hall stopped them.
“ ’Tis the doing of that bitch, Isabel de Strathbogie!” roared Domnall MacNeil.
And it was MacNeil; there was no mistaking the hatred in his voice. Just hearing him, knowing he was still in the castle, made Isabel shiver. Her hand closed around Dane’s, stopping him.
“Nay, I dinnae ken how she kens the Black Banner, but he is clearly trying to draw me out! I’ll no’ risk it! Ye go, all of ye, and I’ll stay here and defend the castle if I must!”
Someone murmured something to him, and he spat out a curse.
“To hell with Barra! My leverage is here in Kisimul, and I’ll be staying here. Ye lot go defend those worthless villagers!”
In the dim light, Isabel exchanged a glance with Dane. The lad’s eyes were wide, and she tightened her hold on his hand.
From what she’s just heard, the distraction had worked. Even though MacNeil was still here, most of his men were ashore. And, hopefully, he didn’t realize the rescue party was already in the keep.
Still, she couldn’t risk the man heading upstairs to check on Alex. Mayhap, if he saw her, and saw he was right, he’d no’ suspect Alex was being whisked away to safety.
Tugging Dane toward her once more, she placed her lips near his ear. “I will confront him.”
“Nay,” he hissed. “Ye promised Da—”
“I swear I’ll be as safe as I can. I remember how to be humble. But I need ye to creep upstairs and get to Alex.” When she felt the lad hesitate, she squeezed his fingers. “Dane, ye’re his brother now. Tell him that, and nae matter what happens with MacNeil”—and me—“ye must get Alex to safety.”
She felt him hesitate and hardened her heart.
“Dane, I will be fine, I swear. But if MacNeil kens I’m with him, he’s unlikely to check on Alex, and ye can sneak him out. Please. As yer mother, I’m asking this of ye.”
Mayhap ‘twas an underhanded tactic, but she felt his shoulders slump in defeat, and he gave a quick, albeit reluctant, nod.
“Aye,” he whispered. “I’ll save my brother. We’ll meet ye at the skiff.”
“Go with God, lad.”
And then he was slipping up the back steps, and Isabel knew her son would be safe.
As for her?
Only time would tell.
Straightening her shoulders, she took a deep breath and stepped toward the great hall.
* * *
It was nearly impossible to effectively attack a town from a birlinn without actually getting off the boat. However, it was vital the crew stay close by in order to retreat as soon as they got word from Dane and Isabel, so there was little chance of marauding through town, waving swords and terrorizing women, like the old days.
Tav’s crew were occupying themselves with setting charges in places where they’d make the most noise, but the least amount of damage. The smoke alone should be enough to draw MacNeil from Kisimul, but Tav had sent a few of his men into town to raise as much ruckus as possible, and the screams and sou
nds of clashing metal were convincing.
Beside him, Tosh leaned closer to be heard over the noise. “ ’Tis just like auld times, eh, Banner?”
The reminder of his past wasn’t nearly as fond for him as he thought his second imagined it to be. Still, with a curt nod, he agreed. “I just hope the lads remember we’re no’ here to actually pillage. I heard Fergus declare he needed a new set of trousers.”
“Och, well, if losing a set of trousers is the worst that befalls the people of Castlebay tonight, they’ll count themselves lucky. Besides, Fergus does need a new set.”
Tav was anxiously pacing the deck, alternating between watching the actions of his crew—ensuring none of them went too far—and glancing over at the castle. He knew he wouldn’t be able to see what was going on inside Kisimul, not from this distance, but he couldn’t stop himself.
By God’s Blood, they had best be safe.
“Well, no’ quite like auld times, eh, laddie?” Tosh muttered when he came close enough again.
Frustrated, Tav whirled on his friend. “Do ye really miss being a pirate?”
The large man paused, his forehead wrinkling in thought as the sounds of shouts grew closer. “I…well, ‘tis exciting, but kenning we have the King’s blessing now has been a comfort.”
The Black Banner still roamed the sea, but now he did it to keep the Crown’s interests safe. But even that wasn’t enough any longer.
“I am not so certain,” he muttered.
Tosh cocked his ear. “What?”
With a sigh, Tav pushed his sword out of his way and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I am a father and now a husband, auld friend. I will soon have responsibilities at Carrick.” And he’d do his best to make certain the earl grew into a good, strong, compassionate man as his mother wanted. “I need to start looking to the future.”
For the first time, Tosh turned to face him completely, allowing the battle to rage without his supervision. His face had pulled into a mask of incredulity when he blurted, “What are ye saying? The Black Banner is retiring?”
The Pirate’s Angel Page 12