Forbidden Alliance

by Diana Cosby

  The Romani leader nodded.

  “Rónán!” Cailin waved his friend over as he hobbled beside Elspet.

  “Thank God you are—” She gasped as she took in his gash. “Your wound needs attention.”

  His injury throbbed. “I will tend to it, but for now, ’tis imperative that we reach Tiran Castle.”

  Hoofbeats thrummed over the snow-covered ground as Rónán broke away from his knights and cantered over. He drew his steed to a halt a few paces away. Curiosity flickered in his gaze as he glanced at Elspet, then he turned to Cailin, scowled at the large wound on his thigh. “God’s truth, ’tis deep.”

  Cailin grunted, tore a strip of cloth from a dead fighter’s garb, wrapped the wound tight. “It would be bloody worse had you not arrived when you did. Nor can we linger. We must surround Tiran Castle before my uncle can send out messengers seeking aid.”

  His friend gave a curt nod. “My men and I will join your ranks.” He cantered to where the Romani warriors were waiting.

  Bracing himself against the pain, Cailin mounted, then paused as he found Elspet frowning at Rónán. “What is it?”

  “’Tis the Irishman I saw visit my stepfather,” she said, “the one you said was like a brother to you.”

  “Aye. As your stepfather was loyal to King Robert, nay doubt Rónán’s visits involved duties from the king.” Cailin shifted, trying to alleviate some of the pain without success. “Hurry, we must leave.”

  She frowned at his wounded leg, then mounted her horse.

  Cailin kicked his destrier into a canter, and she fell in behind him.

  * * * *

  From the tree line surrounding Tiran Castle, Cailin studied the stronghold a moment before facing Elspet. “Stay with Taog and his men while I speak with my uncle. If he is wise, once he realizes that he has no hope of waiting us out, he will surrender.”

  Her eyes darkened with worry. “You believe he will?”

  “Nay, but I must try.” He cantered to where Rónán awaited him, then they rode to the fortress, Cailin holding a white flag high.

  Streaks of red and orange cut the sky as Cailin halted before the portcullis of his home, the memories of his youth, of the happiness there smothered by Gaufrid’s betrayal. He glared at his uncle standing upon the wall walk, peering down. “Cede and I will show you leniency!” he shouted up.

  “’Tis my home!”

  “One gained through treachery.”

  “’Twas nay wrongdoing,” Gaufrid snapped. “I received news you died.”

  Cailin scoffed. “You paid the captain of the ship to kill me.”

  His uncle’s face darkened with outrage. “A lie!”

  “If ’twas a lie,” Cailin said, disgusted at how his uncle spewed mistruths without compunction, “when you learned that I had returned to Dalkirk lands, you wouldna have sent troops to capture me but would have welcomed me into my home.”

  “My orders were given out of concern. Nor will I tolerate your twisting my actions into something nefarious.” He angled his head in a regal tilt. “Had your purpose upon your return to Dalkirk land been honorable, you would have ridden straight to Tiran Castle and we could have resolved your false beliefs. Instead, you dared to malign my character, a slander I willna tolerate. Once,” he drawled with loathing, “I would have welcomed you, but nay longer. You are nay blood of mine. Begone!”

  “You, as I, know the truth. Hear me: You will yield what is mine by grace or through force.”

  “An empty threat.”

  “Indeed?” he said, his voice dry. Cailin glanced around him for emphasis. “With the castle surrounded, none can leave, and your supplies will run out within a month.”

  A cold smile touched his uncle’s lips. “Lay siege if you wish, but en route to the stronghold, I sent runners with missives for reinforcements to the Earl of Odhran, along with several other powerful lords.”

  Blast it! Still, regardless of whether his uncle’s claim was true, he refused to give up. “You have made your decision, one you will regret.” Cailin cast the white flag to the ground and cantered toward the tree line.

  Rónán fell in beside him. “That went well.”

  “I expected nay less.” Nor would he linger on circumstances he couldna change. Elspet’s claim of love during the attack came to mind, and his chest tightened with emotion. “Upon our return, I will introduce you to a woman who has become important to me, one I trust with my life.”

  His friend’s brow raised. “The lass I saw beside you when I first arrived in the Romani camp?”

  “Aye. Had I not been in such a hurry to surround Tiran Castle, I would have introduced you then.”

  “She is a beautiful woman. I can see why she’s captured your interest.”

  “She is, but she is intelligent and determined as well.” He guided his horse up the incline. “Her stepfather was Sir Angus McReynolds. On your last visit, she was hidden and saw your meeting with him.”

  “I knew Angus had a family, but I never met them.” He frowned. “Wait, you said he was her stepfather.”

  A gust whipped past. “Aye. Angus, and his wife, were murdered by my uncle’s hand.”

  Fury flashed in his friend’s eyes. “The bastard.”

  “That and more.” In short, Cailin explained what had happened. Moments later, he guided his destrier to where Taog and Elspet waited, then swung to the ground.

  Rónán followed suit.

  Pride filled Cailin as he moved beside Elspet, damning that they hadn’t had time alone since the battle. “Sir Rónán, may I introduce to you Elspet McReynolds, whom I hold in high regard.”

  His friend bowed. “’Tis an honor meeting you. My deepest regret on the loss of your stepfather and mother. Though I never had the honor of meeting your mother, your stepfather will be greatly missed.”

  A flicker of pain streaked through the exhaustion on her face, and she exhaled a trembling breath. “I thank you.”

  “As well,” Rónán said, “Cailin informed me that you saw me on my last visit to meet with Angus. I regret that we did not meet then.”

  A blush swept up her cheeks and she cleared her throat. “As I.”

  Cailin nodded to the Romani leader. “Taog, this is my good friend, Sir Rónán.”

  Taog nodded to the knight. “You saved our hides.”

  “I am thankful my men and I arrived in time.”

  “How did you know that we were in danger?” the Romani leader asked.

  “I spoke with King Robert before I came to Dalkirk,” Cailin explained. “The Bruce promised if men returned, he would send them. The chances were slight, so I didna mention the possibility.” He glanced around, noted the numerous injuries. “There is much more to speak of, a conversation we will continue once all of the wounded have been cared for.”

  “Starting,” Elspet said, her voice firm, “with you.”

  “Once those with serious wounds are seen to,” Cailin stated, “I will tend to my own, but not before.”

  Elspet’s brow furrowed. “And you call me stubborn? You are two times as stubborn as the orneriest boar.”

  Rónán’s mouth tilted in a smile. “He is indeed.”

  * * * *

  Seated near Cailin, Elspet shifted for a better view of his wound. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she glanced at several people treating the last remaining injured and recalled those who hadn’t survived.

  She cursed the unnecessary deaths, all because of the Earl of Dalkirk’s greed. Thank God their losses were few. Still, each one tore at her heart.

  “Dinna move,” Elspet warned him as she cut away the jagged material wrapped around the wound on his thigh, exposing the angry gash. She took a steadying breath and cursed his persistent refusal to treat his injury before now. Merciful saints, a bit to the left and he would have bled to death. Not that he was doing well
now.

  “’Twill have to be cauterized,” Rónán said, his voice grim. “I have already put my blade in the fire.”

  “I thank you.” She frowned at Cailin. “You should have let me tend to you earlier.”

  Face streaked with pain, he shook his head. “Others… others needed help far more than I.”

  She glared at him before cleaning the deep gash, terrified by the amount of blood he’d lost. Once done, she sat back. “Sir Rónán and Taog, hold him while I seal the wound.”

  Rónán shook his head. “Go wait at the fire until we are done; ’tis not what a lass should see.”

  On a muttered curse, Elspet retrieved the heated dagger, leveled her gaze on him. “I said hold him!”

  The formidable knight studied her for a long moment, then gave a curt nod. Rónán held a strip of leather up to Cailin’s mouth. “Clench this in your teeth.”

  Cailin complied.

  Rónán moved behind Cailin and caught his shoulders.

  Taog pinned down his injured leg.

  The glowing red blade trembled in her hand as she met Cailin’s eyes. “I am sorry.”

  “Do it,” Cailin growled.

  With a silent prayer, she pressed the flat of the dagger against his wound.

  Heated metal hissed against the skin. On a strangled groan, Cailin collapsed.

  Rónán gently lay him down. “Thank God he passed out. I prayed he would, but at times he can be a bit stubborn.”

  “Indeed,” she agreed, her stomach still churning at the pain she’d dealt Cailin. Several men passed by carrying posts and rolled-up blankets as she lifted the blade, relieved that the bleeding had stopped. “As, ’twould seem, are his friends.”

  A smile touched Rónán’s mouth.

  “The bloody fool,” Taog snapped. “He should have been tended to long ago.”

  Rónán sat back. “He should have, but Cailin puts others before himself.”

  “He does.” Taog paused. “Once he becomes earl, he will bring much-needed stability, pride, and common sense to Dalkirk lands.”

  Pride filled her. “He will.”

  “I will help Elspet finish here,” Rónán said.

  The Romani leader scanned the encampment, gave a weary nod, then headed toward where several men were setting up tents.

  Elspet applied the herbal mixture the healer had given her earlier.

  “Let me help you.” Rónán said, lifting Cailin’s thigh when she began wrapping the bandage around the gash.

  “I thank you,” she said, curious about the man, too aware of the questions in his eyes. And why wouldn’t he have them, given the ease of conversation between himself and Cailin, and with Cailin’s claim that he was like a brother.

  She continued to wind the bandage around his leg. From Rónán’s closeness with the king, his confidence, his muscled frame, and the way he’d handled his weapon with mastery, she suspected he was a Knight Templar as well.

  “Are you all right?” Rónán asked.

  “Aye.” As much as possible, given the situation. But days ago, she was living a simple yet happy life in which the highlight of any day was whether the earl and his men rode by.

  Now, the Earl of Dalkirk wanted her dead, she was hiding out with Taog and his men, and she was in love with Cailin, the rightful heir of Tiran Castle, a Knight Templar.

  Once she’d secured the bandage, she sat back. “I pray he doesna become fevered.”

  “We will keep a close watch on him. As the injury isna severe, knowing him, he will be back on his feet tomorrow.”

  “Not severe?” She slammed her brows together, tossed the extra cloth aside. “But a breath to the left and he would have died!” Which terrified her the most. In the horror of recent events, that she had found a man like Cailin, fallen in love with him, left her astounded. She refused to consider a life ahead without him.

  “But he isna dead.”

  “’Tis not a game!” Emotions tumbling upon the others as she started to shove to her feet.

  Rónán’s hand caught her arm. “Far from it,” he said, his voice deadly serious. “Nor do I, or those we fight alongside, take any day given for granted.”

  After a glance to ensure that no one was close enough to hear her, she knelt beside him. “You speak of the Knights Templar.”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes for a second before he shielded the expression. He removed his hand, frowned at Cailin.

  “Aye, he told me about the Brotherhood and its secret dissolution, but,” she said as grayish-green eyes lifted to hers, “no one else here knows.”

  With a thoughtful look, he cleaned his dagger, secured it. “When I first arrived, he said you were important to him.”

  She angled her jaw. “I love him.”

  “I see.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Does he know?”

  “Aye.”

  He gave a slow nod as two women carrying baskets passed by. “You were childhood friends, then.”

  Though handsome, and his voice edged with a brogue that would woo many a woman, loving Cailin, she wasn’t swayed by his innate charm. “Nay, in my youth I only saw him from a distance.”

  “Yet in but a handful of days,” he drawled, “he not only grew to trust and care for you but disclosed he was a Templar. I would be interested in hearing how you met.”

  Heat touched her face at how she’d deceived Cailin. She soaped her hands, rubbed hard. “’Tis difficult to explain.”

  He chuckled, a deep, warm sound, easing the tension thrumming through her. “Lass, I would be disappointed if it wasna.”

  She hesitated to admit the details. Why? This was Cailin’s trusted friend, one of the Brotherhood. Cailin would tell him, of that she had no doubt. “I robbed him in the woods when he was in search of my stepfather.”

  Rónán’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “You jest.”

  Taking a deep breath, keeping her voice low, Elspet explained.

  “I am embarrassed to admit that after I had stolen his broadsword, he forgave me,” she said, “more than that, he agreed to help me learn whether my stepbrother still lived. Cailin is an honorable man, more than most.”

  “He is.” Rónán shook his head. “If you or Cailin hadna told me of these events, I never would have believed them possible. I can only imagine the look on his face when he awoke and his broadsword was gone.”

  “Nay doubt ’twas fierce, but I was desperate. Still, I assure you, it took every ounce of courage I had to dare to face him after my deceit.”

  “But you did,” he said, his voice solemn. “Something that, however furious he was, earned his respect.”

  A smile touched her lips. “That I doubt. He was ready to toss me out on my ear. Only my convincing him that I could help him regain his legacy saved his turning me away.”

  “It would.” He paused. “You mentioned Cailin was looking for your stepfather. Why?”

  “Because King Robert told him that he would lead Cailin to Father Lamond.”

  “Though true,” Rónán drawled, “nay doubt the Bruce was aware that Angus had a beautiful and intelligent stepdaughter.”

  Flustered by his praise, she frowned. “I have nay idea of the king’s knowledge of my family. Though I dinna see what my appearance has to do with anything.”

  Humor touched his gaze. “You wouldna. ’Tis something Cailin can explain.”

  Cailin groaned.

  Elspet turned to Cailin, her reply to Rónán falling away.

  Blue eyes raw with pain flickered open.

  “Glad to see that you decided to join us,” Rónán said.

  * * * *

  Cailin grimaced, the pain rolling through him making each breath hurt. The scent of cooking meat filled the air as he glanced around, noticed numerous tents were standing, while men were now repairing shel
ters damaged during the attack.

  “How long was I asleep?” Cailin asked.

  “Long enough for Elspet to explain how you met.”

  At the humor in Rónán’s voice, Cailin glanced toward her. “’Twas an unusual event.”

  She cleared her throat. “You must be hungry. I will bring you something to eat.” With a nod at Rónán, she stood and headed toward a cook fire fragrant with the scent of simmering meat and herbs.

  Once she departed, Cailin shifted his gaze to his friend. “I prayed that King Robert would send troops, but with his being unsure whether any warriors would return to his camp in time, I couldna count on any reinforcements. I thank God you arrived when you did.”

  Somber, his friend nodded. “I am thankful we reached you in time. When I returned from taking a missive to Stephan MacQuistan at Avalon Castle, the Bruce explained the situation, then placed me in charge of a contingent and sent me to aid you.”

  It seemed a very long time since he, Stephan, Rónán, and the others of the Brotherhood had fled France with Templar treasures when less than two years had passed. But until he drew his last breath, the foul memory of the French king’s betrayal would never fade.

  “’Twould seem that King Robert’s matchmaking has found another mark.”

  His friend’s teasing pulled Cailin from the dark place in his mind. “A ridiculous notion. If anything, I would advise you to keep your concern for yourself. Nay doubt you are in King Robert’s sights.”

  He chuckled. “That I seriously doubt. After watching you, Stephan, Thomas, and Aiden, I well know to beware the king’s romantic interventions.”

  “We will see, my friend,” Cailin said, “we will see.”

  “Oh nay,” Rónán said with a laugh. “You are not dismissing the subject. Dinna you find it interesting that the Bruce sent you to a man who has a beautiful and intelligent daughter?”

  “Pure circumstance.” But his friend’s words gave him pause. Never had he believed he would become entangled in the Bruce’s matchmaking endeavors, but had he?

  “Elspet said she loves you. From watching the two of you together, I believe ’tis a feeling you share.”