by Diana Cosby
In detail, she described how she’d brought his sword to Wautier Brecnagh, a merchant known to purchase stolen goods. While awaiting payment, how she’d overheard him send his assistant to warn the Earl of Dalkirk that Wautier had purchased a broadsword bearing the earl’s family’s coat of arms from a thief. And how the merchant suspected the earl’s nephew had returned to claim his rightful title.
So bloody much for anonymity, or time to refamiliarize himself with his home and plan how best to confront his uncle and seize Tiran Castle.
On trembling legs, Kenzie knelt, bowed her head. “I swear my fealty to you, my lord.”
“I am not the Earl of Dalkirk,” he snapped.
Emerald eyes lifted to him. “You are the rightful heir.” At his silence, she continued, her gaze unwavering. “Years ago, your uncle informed the people of Dalkirk that you had tragically died at sea. Obviously ’tis a lie. On my word of honor, I swear I will do all within my power to ensure you receive your title.”
“I am unsure if you are brave or stupid,” he charged, anger seeping through his words. “After your deceit and theft, do you honestly believe I will ever give your word any weight?”
Frustration flashed in her eyes. “I risked my life to warn you!”
A muscle worked in his jaw as he scanned their surroundings. Naught but tree branches rattled in the wind. Far from convinced, he glared at her. “Nay, you risked your life to help save your stepbrother.” He reined his horse back. “I canna help you.”
“I returned your sword!”
He refused to be swayed by the desperation in her emerald eyes. However beautiful, she’d proven herself a woman he couldn’t trust. “Fear guided your hand in returning my weapon,” he said with cold warning, “one you were foolish to have dared taken. Rest assured, had you not come before me, I would have found you.”
“You dinna understand; without your help, my stepbrother will die!”
A sliver of doubt wedged inside him. Damning he’d waste time to ask, he nodded. “Tell me, why should I believe you?”
* * * *
Elspet didn’t know why but thanked God he was giving her another chance. “A fair question. One I would ask in your stead. More so as I have given you little reason to do more than see me hang.” Her voice wavered despite her willing it to be strong. “But I swear what I tell you from this moment forward is the truth.”
He arched a skeptical brow, then again scanned the area before his wary gaze cut back to her.
Merciful saints, she had to convince him to help her! The last thing she wished was to again steal his weapon for coin or, with him suspicious of her now, was that even possible?
“Where is your stepbrother?”
She ignored the condemnation and focused on the fact that he hadn’t ridden away yet. “I believe Blar is locked in the dungeon at Tiran Castle.”
“Believe?” he drawled.
“After the earl killed my mother and stepfather,” she rushed out, “they hauled my stepbrother to the stronghold.”
“And you know this how?”
“Because after his butchery—” she fought past the bile in her throat—“the earl hauled me to his chamber, intent on making me his mistress.”
Anger darkened the knight’s eyes, and a chill swept her at the cold fury within them. “Yet you escaped.”
“Aye,” she said, struggling against the horrific memories that would haunt her for the rest of her life. “When he tried to take me, I jammed my knee into his groin. While he lay screaming in agony, I fled. As I ran from the castle, I heard his shouts for his men to kill me.”
Blue eyes narrowed as Cailin studied her a long moment, as if weighing her words. “Why did you remain on Dalkirk lands? You must know that the earl isna a man to offer false threats.”
Emotion burned her throat. “I–I couldna leave Blar to die.”
“How was robbing the men, or me, providing you with a hope to save him?”
Elspet exhaled an unsteady breath. “I found a guard, Moireach, who, for a pound, agreed to free my stepbrother.”
Cailin arched a doubtful brow. “And with the earl calling for your death, you believed one of his guards would help you?”
“I have seen Moireach several times over the years. Though not a friend, neither is he a stranger. I thought…” A shudder ripped through her as she clung to her desperate hope. “Aye, I believed him.”
“Then you are a fool,” Cailin stated, his words as frigid as the snow-covered ground. “Once you paid the guard, he would have hauled you before the earl. That is, once he’d slaked his lust and if he’d allowed you to live.”
“You are wrong!” She staggered back, damning him, damning the sense of hopelessness engulfing her. “Go to the devil. I dinna need you. I will save Blar myself!”
Elspet whirled and half-hobbled, half-stumbled down the incline, refusing to focus on the panic rising in her chest. Cailin was wrong. Moireach would aid her; she only needed to acquire the coin he’d demanded.
The thud of hooves was her only warning a second before Cailin’s strong arm swept her up and plopped her before him on his destrier. She tried to dive off.
His hold tightened.
Elspet whirled, but he caught her arms as she tried to attack. Breath coming fast, she narrowed her gaze. “Let me go.”
“If you somehow procure the necessary coin and reach the guard, you will be dead.”
“Dinna you realize that if I do not, my stepbrother will die!”
Cailin’s eyes bore into hers. “Had the earl wanted to kill your stepbrother, he would have slain him, not hauled him to the castle.”
Through the fragments of lucid thought, she focused to his words. “Then you will help me?”
A muscle tightened in his jaw. “Nay.”
Chapter 3
Grief tore through Elspet as Cailin held on to her as he rode. All her risks, her foolish belief he would aid her, for naught. She should have hidden Cailin’s sword and secured his agreement to help save Blar before giving it back. Foolishly, she’d convinced herself that with the earl destroying both their lives, and with her returning the sword, Cailin would help her.
“Lass,” Cailin said, his voice laden with ire as she continued to struggle against him.
“You bastard, I was a fool to ever think you would help me!”
“Blast it, I—”
Elspet twisted free, raked her nails down his face.
With a roar of pain, he jerked back.
Pulse racing, she dove from the horse, hit the snow, then shoved up. Clenching her teeth against the pain in her ankle, she ran.
The thud of hooves sounded behind her.
She scrambled beneath a line of thick, snow-laden brush. Thankful the steep bank forced him to circle around, she climbed to her feet and took off again.
“Kenzie!”
She ran faster.
The crusted ledge beneath her suddenly shifted. Tremors rippled in the frozen shelf.
No! She grabbed for a limb.
The outcrop crumbled with a loud whoosh, gave.
A scream ripped from her as she plunged within the hurl of snow, the blur of white broken by glimpses of blue that she managed to glimpse above. After a final tumble down the incline, Elspet rolled to a halt.
The soft clop of hooves halted nearby.
Gasping for breath, the sky clear, as if mocking the way her entire body hurt, she glanced over.
Cailin jumped down, his expression fierce.
Another burst of pain shot through her as she tried to struggle to her feet. Her legs wobbled and she collapsed.
He stepped toward her.
Blast it, she’d almost escaped. “Dinna touch me!”
“That answers whether you are alive,” he grumbled.
“As if you care? Leave! If I never see yo
u again, ʼtwould be none too soon.”
His scowl darkened as he studied her. “And where will you go? Or are you willing to stake your life that a guard, one who demands coin to champion your cause, is a man you can trust?”
Heat burned her cheeks. “As I explained before, Moireach and I have spoken a few times.”
“A few times?” Cailin muttered a curse. “Knowing his name doesna make him less of a stranger.”
She angled her jaw. “Was trusting a man I had met but a few times a decision easily made? Nay. After my escape from Tiran Castle, terrified, betrayed by people I believed were friends, and frantic to save Blar’s life, I made the choice I believed best.”
Though now, she realized the recklessness of her decision. However much she damned Cailin’s intervention, he was right. If she’d achieved her goal and given Moireach the coin, with the guard’s loyalty to the earl, odds were she would find herself locked in the dungeon.
Or raped.
Or dead.
The futility of the situation threatened to overwhelm her, but she smothered her despair. She refused to do nothing.
She eyed Cailin, and an idea came to mind of how she might convince him to assist her. Though she far from trusted him, he’d proven himself an honorable man when he’d rescued her from harm and offered her shelter. Neither was he a brutal man, proven when he hadn’t beaten her after she’d stolen his blade and he’d caught up to her, but sought the reason for her less-than-honorable actions.
Nor, in the brief time they’d spend together, would she have to do more than keep a close watch on him. Once they helped Blar escape, she and her stepbrother would flee Dalkirk land and never see Cailin again.
* * * *
Snow smeared Kenzie’s face, hair, and her tattered gown as she stared up at Cailin. Arching a fierce brow, he folded his arms across his chest. “I should leave you. ’Twould be a lesson for your stubbornness.”
She eyed him as if on a dare. “But you willna.”
God’s blade, the lass had bravado, that he would give her. Far from wanting another confrontation, he rubbed the back of his neck at the tension gathered there. He should abandon the willful lass to her fate. Yet, for some unexplainable reason, he couldn’t. “And why is that?”
“Because you need me to aid you in your quest.”
“Indeed?” he asked, his voice dry. How in Hades did she think she could help him?
“You have been away for many years. Though you know names from your childhood, could perhaps recognize a few people, you dinna know who to trust, or the places we can hide until you seize Tiran Castle.”
The matter-of-factness in her tone had a smile tugging at his lips. A Knight Templar, he didn’t need a lass, more so one of the nobility, hindering him.
Nor was discovering those within Dalkirk who would be loyal to him a significant challenge. King Robert had bid him to find a trusted contact, Sir Angus McReynolds, a stalwart man Cailin had met on several occasions. One who had brought the Bruce secret missives from Father Lamond, and a person who would take Cailin to the priest without question.
“I will find my way about without your aid,” Cailin said, “along with discovering those who remain loyal to me.”
“Mayhap, but with your presence revealed to the earl, an exposure I sincerely regret, your travel within Dalkirk, as with every contact made, will be at great risk.”
He rubbed his jaw. A valid point. Once Gaufrid discovered the arrangements for Cailin’s death years before had failed, the blackguard, would do whatever was necessary to keep the earldom, including ensuring Cailin’s death this time.
No doubt his uncle would not only send his guard in search of him but keep a close watch on friends from Cailin’s past to see if he tried to approach them, or if their actions grew suspicious. Regardless, he refused to allow this complication to alter his intent.
Frowning, Cailin reached down to her.
She pushed his hand away. “Wait, where are we going?”
Blast it, did she not realize the danger they were in? “You are staying with me only until I decide what to do with you.” He leaned a hand’s width from her face. “Try to fight me again and I will leave you to the wolves.”
“I—”
“You lied to me, stole from me. If I were you, I would count my blessings I am taking you along.”
Fire flared in her eyes, but Kenzie remained silent.
Though tempted to leave her, if she was indeed alone, which, considering her condition, he was beginning to believe, cold and injured, she would die.
After swinging up on his horse, he hauled her up before him and headed west.
* * * *
Later that day, deep in the cave, Cailin added several dry limbs of ash to the growing fire, thankful the curve of the chamber shielded any glow of light from outside. He rubbed his hands before the growing flames, glanced over at Kenzie curled up beneath the blanket, her eyes closed.
During their ride, she’d fallen asleep. Given the distance she’d traveled on foot before meeting up with her, he wasn’t surprised.
He grimaced, unsure if she was more foolish or brave. She’d risked great injury in travelling through such miserable conditions to at first escape and then to find him. A fact that supported her claim of her family’s fate. Regardless, neither his regret for her loss nor her plight swayed him.
While he reclaimed his birthright, the dangers would be many. Unseasoned in war, there were risks she wouldn’t understand. ’Twas best to leave her where she’d be safe.
Where was the question.
Flames snapped as they slowly consumed the dry wood, and the waver of light from the growing flames shimmered over her.
In sleep, with wisps of her deep chestnut hair framing her face, she looked like an innocent maiden. A far cry from the brazen lass earlier this day, her emerald-green eyes dark with fury searing into his own.
If all she’d shared was true, she was a woman who would hold her own against the odds, fight for those she loved, go to any lengths to right a wrong.
A rare lass indeed.
Cailin grunted. He’d known few women of such caliber. All whom were now married to his friends. Not that he cared about her. He couldn’t afford to. When it came time to leave, he would walk away without looking back.
Her lashes flickered, opened. Confusion shadowed her eyes as she looked around, then her gaze landed on him and grew wary.
A sliver of regret shimmered in his mind. Cailin sat back.
With a wince, she sat up and looked around. “Where are we?”
“In a cave.”
“There are several nearby.”
He tried to ignore the soft roughness of her voice, thick with sleep. “Aye.”
Annoyance sparked in her eyes, bolstering his irritation with himself for noticing anything about her.
Kenzie tugged her cape closer and she glanced toward the flames. “I know you dinna believe you can trust me, misgivings I have more than earned, but I swear to you, from this moment on, I will speak naught but the truth.”
“There is little you could disclose that I would find useful.”
“As I stated earlier this day, I know places where we can hide until you seize Tiran Castle. More importantly, I know people who will help you.”
Cailin lifted a stick from the fire, watched the curl of smoke. “Such as?”
“I risk much by telling you,” she said, nerves making her voice waver.
Doubtful, he remained silent. If she indeed proved herself reliable, once he claimed his birthright, ’twould be beneficial to have another person on Dalkirk land he could trust. Cailin gave a curt nod.
She wet her lips. “I am a friend of Father Lamond, who I know was a confidant of your father. A man I believe will help you.”
He stilled. Father Lamond, a trusted adviser of King
Robert and the priest who’d risked his life to recover his father’s broadsword and deliver the blade to the Bruce. The weapon the king had presented to him but days ago, and the man Sir Angus McReynolds was to lead him to.
Refusing to allow Kenzie to know the significance of the cleric to him, Cailin shrugged, cast a flaming twig into the blaze. “I heard he was banished.”
“He was.”
“Yet he remains nearby?”
Kenzie reached up, touched the edge of a finely braided strip of leather around her neck. “Father Lamond is important to you, is he not?”
Pleased by her uncertainty, he added several more sticks to the flames. Sparks popped, curled up within the thin wisps of smoke. “He is a man I wish to speak with.”
Hope brightened in her eyes. “If I tell you where he is, will you help me save my stepbrother?”
Cailin slanted her a cool look. The lass was like a dog with a bone. “Nay, for the reason I have already explained.”
Her fingers tightened on the braided leather. “I must know if Blar is alive. Can you not at least agree to discovering that?”
The last thing he wanted was to concede to any condition, but Father Lamond was a crucial contact who would help him claim his legacy. Bloody hell. By now he’d intended to have found Sir Angus McReynolds, who would have led him to the priest. The events of the past few days had waylaid his plans. Also an issue she’d shrewdly pointed out, with his uncle warned he was in Dalkirk, Cailin didn’t have the luxury to travel unheeded.
With the detour this night, travel back to Sir Angus McReynolds’s home would take a day; given the possibility they might need to hide from guards in search of them, more. Time and risk he could avoid if she indeed knew Father Lamond’s location.
“If the situation presents itself where we can learn of your stepbrother’s fate,” Cailin said, “I will find out.”
“And if Blar still lives?”
“A decision I will make if the circumstance arises.”
In the shimmer of flames, green eyes darkened with frustration. “’Tis little to offer me after I dare expose the location of the priest, whom I know the earl has banished, a man of the cloth who risks his life by remaining nearby.” She started to shove to her feet.