Highland Legend

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “I see,” Clegg said. “You are a man of royal blood. I should have known.”

  Magnus was beginning to twitch. “It hasna been a blessing if that’s what ye mean.”

  Clegg wasn’t sure what he meant, but Magnus’s reaction was interesting. The duke had also made it seem that Magnus was his beloved, long-lost nephew, and clearly Magnus didn’t feel that way. The man looked like he did when he was in a fight for his life in the arena—edgy, coiled, ready to strike. But there was something more, something Clegg had never seen from him before.

  There was hatred there.

  Clegg lifted a hand to him.

  “Magnus, please sit,” he said quietly. “Tell me about yourself and of your relation to Ambrose Stewart. His son is here, also, by the way.”

  Magnus stopped twitching and his eyes widened. “Conan?”

  “Aye.”

  That had Magnus bolting for the door. Clegg called out to him, but Magnus was running, running from the front door and through the arriving crowds. A cry went up when some people realized the Eagle was in their midst, but he was running so fast that he was through the crowds before they could work up a good cheer.

  He was heading for the warriors’ village.

  His legs were pumping, and his chest felt as if it were ready to explode as he ran at top speed. He sailed through the warriors’ village and to his cottage on the rise. He crashed into the door, slamming it back on its hinges.

  “Bee!” he bellowed. “Diantha!”

  The cottage was empty.

  Panic consumed him. Magnus spilled out of his cottage, preparing to run back to the lists and find Diantha sitting there among the crowd, but voices coming from Lor’s cottage caught his attention. He rushed over to the cottage, pounding on the door. Quickly, it was yanked open and Isabail was standing there.

  “Magnus!” she gasped. “What in the world is—?”

  Magnus caught sight of Diantha standing behind Isabail, and he nearly bowled the woman over in his haste to get to Diantha.

  “Shut the door,” he hissed at Isabail.

  The door slammed and Magnus threw his arms around Diantha, never more relieved in his entire life. In fact, realizing she was safe and sound brought tears to his eyes. He actually thought he was going to start weeping. He stood there for a moment, holding her, reassuring himself that she was well.

  In his embrace, Diantha could feel him trembling.

  “Magnus?” she said, deeply concerned. “What is the matter? What has happened?”

  He wasn’t ready to let her go yet so he stood there a moment longer, squeezing the breath from her, before answering.

  “Thank God,” he said, sounding exhausted and strained. “Bee, ye must promise not tae panic. Please. I need yer calm head. Can ye do this?”

  Diantha finally pulled away from him, greatly puzzled. “Do what?” she said. “Magnus, what is the matter?”

  Magnus sighed heavily, trying to regain his composure. “Ambrose is here,” he said. “So is Conan. They have been tae see Clegg. They know I am here.”

  As he watched, Diantha’s eyes widened so much that they were surely about to pop from her skull. “The duke?” she gasped “And…and Conan?”

  He nodded. “I dunna know what they want yet, but I will find out,” he said. “I wanted tae make sure ye were safe first and tell ye not tae go tae the arena tonight. Stay in the cottage, lock the shutters, and bolt the door. Dunna open it for anyone but me. Do ye understand?”

  Diantha nodded. She didn’t panic and she didn’t cry out, but her hands were at her mouth in shock and as Magnus watched, tears filled her eyes and spilled over. She collapsed against him, weeping fearfully, and he hugged her tightly.

  “I know,” he whispered to her. “I know ye’re frightened. So am I. I’m sure they dunna know ye’re here, so that is why ye must stay in the cottage and not come out. They’ll leave and all will be well again, do ye hear? We just have tae get through tonight.”

  Diantha nodded, wiping her eyes and struggling to compose herself. “As you say,” she said. “I’ll be all right. But, Magnus…they’re here? How would they have known to come here?”

  Magnus shrugged. “I told Lady Ayr this was where I was,” he said. “Clearly, she told her husband and he’s come tae see for himself. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

  “You’re positive?”

  “Aye,” he said confidently, though he wasn’t sure he felt all that confident. “I just dunna want him tae see ye, so ye must stay out of sight.”

  “I’ll keep her with me, Magnus,” Isabail said. “Ye needna worry. I can handle a sword. If he wants her, he’ll have tae go through me tae get her.”

  Magnus looked at Isabail. Pregnant Isabail, still willing to fight for her friend. Reaching out, he touched her sweetly on the cheek.

  “Ye’re a bold and foolish wench,” he said softly. “But ye’re the best kind of woman. Ye dunna even know why we’re so frightened, but instead of asking questions, ye’re making offers. If ye’d keep her here, out of sight, I’d be grateful.”

  Isabail nodded, fighting off a grin because he was. Magnus had never been the kind or sweet type, but the introduction of Diantha had seen that aspect of his personality change considerably. He was still arrogant, still a peacock, but now he was more…human. Warm, humorous, delightful at times.

  Isabail liked the new Magnus.

  As she went to check on Nikki to make sure he hadn’t awakened with all of the commotion, Magnus returned his attention to Diantha, who was wiping away the last of her tears. Their eyes met and she forced a smile, assuring him that she was composed.

  “I will wait here for you,” she said softly. “Fight well, querido. Do not let the presence of Ambrose and Conan distract you. They are not worthy of your attention. They have come to gawk, so let them. But ignore them.”

  He smiled, appreciating her words of encouragement and support. He had to admit that he was concerned about being distracted. And in his business, distraction equaled failure.

  He didn’t want to fail.

  “I willna be distracted so long as ye remain here and safe,” he said. “But please…dunna come tae the arena for any reason.”

  “I will not. I promise.”

  He took a deep breath. “Good,” he said. “Now, I must return tae Clegg. I ran out of his private chambers so quickly that I’m sure he thinks I’ve lost my mind, but I—”

  There was a knock on the door, cutting him off. Immediately, he went into defensive mode.

  “Get intae the back chamber with Nikki,” he told her. “Get there and stay there until I tell ye tae come out.”

  As Diantha dashed into the rear chamber, Isabail emerged. She shut the door behind Diantha and calmly walked to the front door.

  “Who comes?” she asked evenly.

  There was a pause. “Issie, have ye seen Magnus?”

  It was Lor. Isabail looked at Magnus, who nodded his head, and she opened the door to find her husband, Bane, Axel, and Clegg standing outside. Before Isabail could answer, Magnus showed himself.

  “I’m here,” he said, looking to Clegg. “Forgive me for running out on ye, m’laird. I…I had tae tend tae something.”

  Clegg held up a hand. “Magnus,” he said quietly, “we are all your friends and we love you. Clearly, this duke has something over you, from your reaction to the news that he has come to the Cal. I have told you that I do not care about a man’s past so long as he performs, but in this case, I must ask. Will you tell me what your dispute is with the Duke of Ayr?”

  Magnus looked to Lor and Bane. They already knew of his royal connections. But until tonight, Clegg and Axel had not. Clearing his throat softly, he prepared to tell them. It was less difficult this time around because he had already told Diantha, and he had told Lor and Bane. No one judged him, no one ridiculed him. It made it
easier to reveal himself to those who loved him.

  It was only fair that Clegg knew, considering it was now on his doorstep.

  “My father is the Duke of Kintyre and Lorne,” he said. “I am his bastard. He is the youngest brother of the king and Ambrose Stewart is a distant cousin. His great-grandsire and my father’s great-grandsire were brothers, so it is a hundred years ago with bloodlines that have been watered down through the generations. But Ambrose wants everyone tae believe we are closer than that and that he is more important than he is.”

  He paused to let the information sink in, but Clegg nodded his encouragement. “Go on.”

  Magnus did. “When I was a small child, Ambrose took me away from my mother’s family and held me hostage against my father,” he said. “My father isna allied with his brother, the king. He has sided against him, but seven years ago, the situation was such that I was no longer needed as a hostage, so I was released. Knowing my father wanted nothing tae do with me, I went tae Glasgow tae seek my fortune. Axel, that’s why ye found me fighting in the streets. I was angry and I was directionless.”

  Axel, as well as Clegg, was listening intently. He nodded his head faintly as if coming to understand the motivation behind an angry and violent young man who had weaponized that rage.

  “Then Ayr was your captor,” Clegg said.

  Magnus nodded. “Aye,” he said. “And a cruel one at that. His son, who is the same age as me, was my tormentor. A rotten, vile excuse for a man if there ever was one, and his father never stopped him. It was a terrible way tae grow up, beaten by a bully time and time again, unable tae fight back because when I did, I was punished for it.”

  So much of Magnus’s manner and behavior was coming clear in that brief statement. “But what of your mother?” Clegg wanted to know. “Was there no one to help you?”

  Magnus shook his head. “There was nothing she could do,” he said. “My mother was a lady-in-waiting tae the Duchess of Kintyre and Lorne, and we were sent away as soon as I was born. I’ve not seen her since I was very young. I dunna blame her for not helping me. In fact, I’m glad she dinna because it probably would have made things worse. I had tae learn tae stand up for myself. It has made me who I am.”

  “But if your father disowned you, why did Ayr hold you hostage?” Axel asked. “Your father surely would not care what happened to you.”

  Magnus shrugged. “’Tis a true fact,” he said. “I would agree with ye, but mayhap there is a small part of him that does. Mayhap he doesna hate me as much as I’ve been told. But the truth is that Ayr did hold me hostage, for fifteen years. Fifteen hellish years. I’ve not seen the man since I was released and the news that he is here is…troubling. I dunna know why he would come tae see me, not after all this time.”

  “I can answer that,” Clegg said. “You ran out before I had the opportunity to tell you. He came to buy your services, Magnus. He has made an incredibly generous offer to buy out your contract so that you may serve him.”

  Magnus’s eyes widened. “But…but he’s not even seen me fight,” he said. “The man hasna seen me in seven years. Why would he make such an offer?”

  Clegg shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “But I can tell you this, Magnus. I am an excellent judge of men. My business depends on it. I could tell from the moment the duke started speaking that something with him was not as he wanted it to seem. It is my sense that his offer for your services is not because he wants you. It is because he either wants something for you or from you. I do not know which. But even before I knew anything about him, there was something in his eyes that suggested something…dark. I did not like the feel of him.”

  Magnus nodded faintly. “Yer instincts are correct,” he said. “He is a conniving, petty man. I dunna know why he should want tae buy my contract, but no good can come from it. If I served the man, he would make my life hell for the rest of my life. I must absolutely refuse.”

  Clegg smiled faintly. “I already did,” he said. “I told him that your contract would remain with me indefinitely. He was not pleased in the least and offered me twice the money. I still refused and he left in anger. I do not know where he went, but my sentries are looking for him. He may have gone to the arena or he may have left. In any case, you should be on your guard, Magnus. He may try to find you. He wants you very badly.”

  “He’ll not get near ye,” Lor growled. “If ye see him, point him out tae me, Magnus. I’ll not let the bastard near ye.”

  “And me,” Bane said. “What’s the son’s name? Conan? I’ll beat the bully right out of the whelp. Give me the privilege, Magnus. Let me hurt him.”

  Magnus looked at his friends, more touched by their protectiveness than he could possibly express. He wasn’t an emotional man because he’d long learned to suppress any feelings he might have, and what he had shown had never been much more than conceit or humor. At the moment, however, he was feeling so much more.

  It was enough to bring a lump to his throat.

  “What did ye call us once, Lor?” he said quietly. “A clan of warriors? It is true. We are family. I’d kill for ye a thousand times over, but when it comes tae ye offering tae defend me, it feels…strange. I know ye dunna mean that I canna defend myself, though. I know ye mean it because we are brothers and ye’d defend me tae the death.”

  “We are brothers,” Lor insisted. “We’ll get through the night and make it known that Ayr isna welcome. We dunna want him and his bastard of a son here.”

  Magnus looked to Clegg; it was his establishment, after all. Only he could say who was allowed to remain and who was not. But Clegg agreed with Lor.

  “When he is found, I will have him and his son removed,” he said. Then he smiled weakly. “A happy Magnus is a victorious Magnus, is he not? I must keep you happy and you must make me money.”

  Magnus couldn’t help but chuckle. “That is true,” he said, his smile fading. “But I dinna tell ye all of it, m’laird. I came back here tae make sure Diantha was all right.”

  “Why should she matter in all of this?” Clegg asked.

  Magnus sighed heavily. “Because she, too, was a hostage of Ayr,” he said. “Ambrose took her as collateral against her father, a Navarre warlord, who wanted support from Ayr. Ambrose took her but never provided her father with the support he promised, and he’s been holding her hostage ever since. She’s an heiress tae her father’s titles and lands, and it is Ambrose’s intention tae marry her tae his son. She escaped and came tae me for help. I know I should have told ye all of it, m’laird, but I truly never thought Ambrose and Conan would come tae the Cal. But if they happen to see her now…”

  The implication wasn’t lost on anyone, least of all Clegg. But he didn’t seem to take it too seriously, as evidenced by his expression. He cocked his head as if thinking about the ramifications of a duke finding his son’s runaway bride at his establishment, but just as quickly pushed the concern aside.

  “You ran back here to tell her to remain out of sight for tonight?” he asked.

  Magnus nodded. “I did.”

  “Understandable and wise.”

  Magnus was surprised he’d gotten off so easily. He’d expected a rebuke at best, but Clegg seemed to understand his reasons. “I will tell ye now that if they discover her and try tae drag her back tae Culroy, I will kill them both before I allow that tae happen,” he said. “Just so ye’re clear on my reaction. I wouldna let her go with them. I’d kill them or die trying.”

  Clegg simply nodded. “I know,” he said. “Diantha is important to you and because you are important to me, she is as well. Tell her to remain out of sight until we are sure the duke and his son have been located. They do not know she is here, but we would not want them to see her accidentally.”

  “Agreed, m’laird.”

  It seemed that everything that needed to be said was now out in the open. The situation was identified, and there w
as nothing to do now but wait until Ambrose and Conan could be located and removed from the Ludus Caledonia. Everyone was willing to protect Magnus, and Diantha, from men evidently determined to do them harm.

  Perhaps they had done harm in the past, but for the future…Magnus and Diantha would be free of them if Clegg and the others from the Ludus Caledonia had anything to say about it.

  “The games are beginning,” Axel finally said. “We must return.”

  Clegg nodded, turning for the Fields of Mars in the distance. “Let us see that tonight’s games are the best we have ever had,” he said. “Magnus, your last bout is to be against Poseidon’s Wrath. You will shine, lad.”

  Magnus was following with Lor and Bane. “But Galan has a bout with him,” he said. “What happened?”

  Clegg grunted. “Someone put soot in his helm and it got into his eyes,” he said. “The man’s eyes are so red that he tells me he can hardly see, so he has been forced to forfeit his bout. That means you will face the beast from Athens at the end of the night. Mind that you do not let Whale Dung shite upon you. And that is a direct quote from Galan.”

  Magnus started to laugh, looking at Lor and Bane and seeing that they were laughing, too. In the long line of jokes and tricks they had all played on one another, Galan was having the last laugh with this one. He would forfeit his fight so that Magnus would have to face a fully rested warrior. Clearly, Axel and Clegg were in on it, too, because soon they were all roaring with laughter as they headed over to the Fields of Mars.

  But it would be the last moment of levity for some time to come.

  Hell was coming.

  ***

  It had been a long night of blood and brutality against a soft mist that fell steadily, coating everything and everyone with a layer of wet. As the night deepened, the field became muddier no matter what the field marshals did to it. They spread buckets of sand to absorb the water. But toward the end of the night, it was a slippery mess.

  The spectators in the lists were wet and cold, but the abundance of hot buttered ale made them quite drunk, so they didn’t care. They had been screaming all night, throwing coins to their champions but heartily condemning those they didn’t like with catcalls and hisses. It had been a wild and unpredictable evening.