Читать книгу The Maid of Lorne - Terri Brisbin, Terri Brisbin - Страница 12

“Sire!”

Lara heard Sebastien’s deep voice call out as she reached the doorway of the keep, and as she watched, he went down on one knee before the Bruce. Everyone in the yard stopped their actions and followed Sebastien’s lead, all except for her. Clutching the cold stone at her back, she tried to calm the growing terror within her about what was to come.

Robert the Bruce slid off his horse and approached Sebastien, grasping him by the shoulders and pulling him to his feet. After the customary kiss, the Bruce whispered words only Sebastien could hear. Unease pricked her as they both turned to face her. More whispered words took place between them and then the Bruce held up his hand and waved to the guard at the gate.

’Twas lucky for her that she stood against the stone doorway, for when her father was brought forward, beaten bloody and in chains, she nearly fell to her knees. The steely look in his eyes, a look that spoke of control and unbowed resistance, warned her to do nothing. The Bruce, Sebastien and her father climbed to the top of the stairway and faced those gathered before them.

Strangers filled the place. Lara recognized only a handful of the men and a very few women, those from the kitchen and a few villagers, there among the Bruce’s soldiers. Lara now clenched her hands in front of her to keep from trembling as she waited to hear her father’s, and her own, fate.

“I give thanks to God Almighty for having delivered us from our enemies,” the Bruce called out in a booming voice. “With His intervention, the perfidy of the MacDougalls did not succeed.”

Loud yelling and clapping followed his words, and Lara felt the soldiers’ anger at her clan wash over her as though it were something tangible. She began to stumble, until an armored hand slid under her elbow to steady her. Sebastien stood at her side.

“The MacDougalls have been scattered. Their castle and lands are now ours in the name of Scotland!”

Lara’s stomach began to churn as the Bruce turned and looked at her. In his cold gaze, she could read his satisfaction at being in control here and now. A shiver tore down her spine and fear at what was about to happen drew a tight grip around her throat.

“The Maid of Lorne has been claimed and the blood shed in her claiming declares that she, too, is ours.” The Bruce nodded to one of the soldiers near him, and the sheet proclaiming her surrender was unfurled and displayed for all to see. The cheering was unbearable for her.

She wanted to shrivel up and die at that moment. If her father had not known, now he did, as did everyone listening. Her chest tightened and her eyes burned as she fought to stay on her feet. Had Sebastien told of how she’d given in instead of fighting him off? If her father knew that she had indeed surrendered body and soul to the enemy, he would kill her himself. If the Bruce knew, he would use it against her and to humiliate her father even more than his presence and condition did now.

The moment while she waited to hear the words that would damn her in her clan’s eyes stretched on forever. Gathering her courage from deep within, she looked at the Bruce. She was a MacDougall and would face her fate and not cringe from it.

“To prevent any resistance to our claims on this land, the children of the MacDougall will be held hostage for his behavior. The MacDougall swore a sacred oath to leave this land for England, never to return, and his children’s lives were pledged as a surety on that oath.”

She could not have prevented her gasp from escaping if she’d tried. News of this oath, this new truce that would protect her father’s life at the cost of hers and her brother’s and sister’s, shocked her to her core. Although she could feel herself trembling, she could not stop it. He could not have given them over with no effort to free them, could he?

Two soldiers took her father’s arms and dragged him down the steps to a horse that had been led forward. Realizing that she would most likely not see him again, she escaped Sebastien’s grasp, rushed down the steps and clutched at her father’s leg as he now sat astride the horse.

“Papa?” she cried out. “Papa!”

Part of her felt the terror of a small child being abandoned. Horror filled another part of her at his willingness to barter his children for his own safety. But the larger part of her simply wanted to know why.

Her father leaned down and loosened her fingers from where they encircled his leg. Under his breath, he whispered a few words to her. “Look to your uncle now.”

Lara leaned back and stared at him, hoping for something more, but he used his foot to push her away. Stumbling back, she landed in the dirt, and she could only watch in horror and humiliation as her father denied her before their foe.

“You opened the gates to our enemy and then gave yourself and your brother and sister into their hands. They could never have taken the castle, girl,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice sharp and biting. Then he spat on the ground next to where she lay and turned his face and gaze away from her as though she did not merit his attention.

Sebastien swore under his breath at his own stupidity. He should have foreseen the MacDougall’s reaction when faced with his daughter’s fate. The old man was hard, harder and colder than anyone else he knew, so his act of rejection against Lara should have not have caught him unawares. Sebastien strode down the steps and grasped her by the arm, lifting her to her feet. Obviously in shock, she did nothing to help or hinder his efforts to raise her up and bring her to his side.

She made no sound, although tears streamed down her cheeks. He was tempted to wipe them away, but he had other matters to handle. The MacDougall and his armed guards galloped through the gates toward the south, and Sebastien turned his attentions back to his king.

“Sebastien of Cleish will hold this fortress until I decide the fate of Dunstaffnage and the lands surrounding it.” Sebastien had been prepared for that assignment, but clenched his teeth as he thought on the Bruce’s most effective means of controlling an area—destruction of the castle and scattering the people. So the next words surprised him. “He will also serve as commander of my troops in this area, answering only to me.”

The cheers began with his own men and spread throughout the soldiers in the yard, on the battlements and near the gate. Sebastien had earned his way through the ranks, not inheriting titles or honors or command by his name, and not being held back due to the lack of one, either. His success meant much to the average soldier about the opportunities in serving the Bruce.

“Come, Sebastien. We have much to discuss before I leave this day.”

Sebastien could sense how unsteady Lara was, and felt reluctant to release her. Nodding to the Bruce, he turned to find Lara’s serving woman. The King’s next words rang out before he could find her.

“And assign someone to ready the MacDougall’s heir to leave with me.”

Sebastien had not yet told Lara of the Bruce’s plan to take her brother and sister from Dunstaffnage. Although he could not argue it here, he opposed the king’s plan. Lara’s scream and her lunge at the king limited his options.

Tightening his grip on her arm until she gasped, he drew her close and warned her in low tones, “Do nothing to anger the king or your siblings will pay the cost.”

She looked at him, and such hatred poured from her gaze that he nearly let her slip from his hold. Nearly. “Do nothing but what I tell you,” he whispered harshly while releasing her and pushing her toward the guard who approached from behind her. “See to your lady,” he ordered.

She regained her feet as the guard caught up to her, and she looked as though she would disobey his orders. For a moment, he waited. Then she became a different person before his eyes. Straightening her back and shoulders, Lara shook off the guard’s hand and nodded to Sebastien. When her maid reached her side, they walked into the keep with the guard trailing their steps.

Sebastien let out a silent but relieved sigh, knowing the battle he’d just won. And then he took in a deep breath as he faced the next one, this time with his king. Gathering his wits about him, Sebastien led the way into the hall, where food and drink awaited them and where he would try to prevail upon the king in the matter of the children.

Lara tried to take no notice of the pitying glances from some of those standing in the corridors of the keep as she walked by them. Margaret grumbled and fretted all the way along the stone passageway, and it only made Lara feel worse. Powerless in the same hallways where just a day ago she’d given the orders, she forced herself to focus on the most important of her problems—the Bruce’s plan to take her brother and sister from the castle.

A shiver chilled her bones as the realization of what usually became of hostages struck her. The Bruce’s own wife and daughter were paying the cost of his sins. What would he do now that he controlled the MacDougall’s heir—both in name and body?

She stopped halfway up the stairs leading to her—their—chambers, and knew she must first discover more and then make plans to get her siblings out of Dunstaffnage to safety. It was imperative that their position as hostages be nullified if her clan was to act against the Bruce.

“Milady?” Margaret asked, stepping between Lara and the guards. “Are you well?”

Lara paused and decided that she needed to hear any discussions between Sebastien of Cleish and his king. The best place for that was in the small chamber next to the stairs leading to the kitchens below. Every unguarded word could be heard there.

In as haughty a tone as she dared, she looked down her nose at the guards and her maid. “I have forgotten my needles in the steward’s closet, Margaret. I will get them before we retire to my chambers.”

With a glare that spoke much, she stopped any arguments or offers Margaret might have made, and turned back down the steps. One of the guards began to argue with her and she glared at him as well.

“Did your lord say that I was a prisoner to be kept in my chambers? Did he say I could not come and go as I pleased?” Not giving the young man time to think on it, she pushed her way around him and strode confidently toward the kitchen stairs.

They followed her, of course, and when they arrived outside the room, she waved her maid off. “I will find them myself, Margaret. Wait here with the guards.”

To his credit, one of the soldiers insisted on peering into the room, most likely looking for other ways out. Once satisfied with his findings, he stepped back and allowed her to enter. Lara closed the door and then climbed around the trunks stored there to reach the farthest wall—the one made of wood, through which sounds could pass.

“It is not like you to argue with me, Sebastien. Especially on something so inconsequential as these children.”

“And it is not like you, sire, to take children as hostages. After…” He paused, probably hesitant to mention the treatment of the Bruce’s kith and kin. “You swore that you would not answer in kind against the innocent what has been done to your own. This boy has not even reached the same age as—”

A loud bang, like her father’s fist on the table, interrupted Sebastien’s words. “Do not think to tell me how to act!” The Bruce’s voice deepened. “Lorne has forsworn his oath before. I will take no chances—”

To her surprise, Sebastien interrupted his king again. “Sire, hear me before you decide.”

Lara pressed her ear to the wall so as to not miss anything said. The fate of her half brother and sister lay in the argument in the next room, and she needed to hear it.

“You will be riding hard, and those two, with maids and escorts, will be a distraction to you. Let them stay here, where I will keep them secure until you send for them or until you need them no more. Keeping them here might make the MacDougall think before attacking the castle.”

Lara heard someone pacing across the dais, heavy footsteps moving back and forth. Her heart raced, yet she could not breathe, waiting for the decision about her siblings.

“It might make this castle a target for attack if he thinks he can free them and then be free of his oath and truce with me.”

“Ah, but sire, Dunstaffnage is impregnable, as we both know.”

The rumbling of male laughter unnerved her and she stepped away from the wall. ‘Twas true. Dunstaffnage had never fallen in battle or in siege—its position high on the rock cliffs gave it a great advantage, with the sea guarding its back. That same rock under its foundations made it impossible for tunnels to be dug to undermine its walls. So it had stood against all enemies…until she had opened the gates. Her stomach churned as she realized that only through her stupidity was Dunstaffnage in the Bruce’s control now. Shaking her head in denial, she stumbled back, landing hard against the wooden crates near her.

Her father had given her instructions to keep everyone inside and not open the gates to anyone. In attempting to get Malcolm and Catriona to safety, she had failed him. They had been captured, giving the enemy the key to the castle, and turning them all over to the Scots rebels. She had lost their home and their clan to the Bruce.

“Milady?” Margaret knocked lightly on the door as she opened it a bit. “Have you found them?”

Shaking herself from the remorse now threatening to overwhelm her, Lara moved around the trunks to the center of the room. Margaret opened the door fully, and the guards stepped to either side of the entrance.

“I did not. Mayhap they are in my chambers, after all.”

Without even a glance at Margaret or the guards, Lara strode down the corridor to the stairway that led to her chambers. She needed to be alone to face the awesome mistake she’d made. A guard rushed ahead to open her door, and once more leaned into the room to check for…she knew not what. The keep was secured and completely under the control of the Bruce’s followers. The only ones left of her clan were herself, the children and, from what she’d witnessed in the yard, a few servants in the keep and stables. Certainly no threat to the Bruce or to his new warden, her husband.

The guard offered a slight bow, more a tilt of his head, and then he retreated into the corridor to join the other man. When Margaret began to enter, Lara waved her off. She needed to be alone before the staggering consequences of her actions overtook her.

Margaret backed out, uncertainty filling her expression, and then the door closed. Lara lunged to the shuttered window and pushed it open. The breeze off the sea poured in, and what had once soothed her fears and restlessness now taunted her. Her childhood home was in the hands of the enemy, her father exiled and hating her for it. Her brother and sister were alive for the moment, but their fate now rested with the usurper king and his minions.

As if her thoughts had conjured them, she watched the two men—Robert the Bruce and Sebastien of Cleish—walk down the steps and mount their horses. What were they about? What decision had they made about the children? Standing on her toes and looking through the yard, she saw no sign that the king was taking them. Mayhap he had changed his mind?

Tempted to call out, Lara found her gaze captured by the sight of Sebastien on his horse. Just as he neared the gate, he turned back and his eyes met hers. Even from this far she could see his nod to her, and she puzzled over the meaning of it. Then he put his helmet on and followed the Bruce through the gate and out of Dunstaffnage.

If only it were as easy for her to leave.

“They will be your prisoners then, until I summon them.”

“My thanks, sire,” Sebastien said, nodding at the Bruce.

“I still do not comprehend why you would want their custody. From what I have seen and heard, both from you and from her father, controlling your new wife will be task enough for you.”

Had the king read his thoughts? Sebastien met Bruce’s gaze and saw the teasing within it. Robert did not take Lorne’s daughter seriously, but Sebastien would not make that same mistake. After speaking to most of the prisoners and those servants who remained behind, he knew that Lara MacDougall had managed the castle in her father’s stead many times. She knew the defenses, the provisions, the number of soldiers needed to hold it and how long it could stand under siege.

“Is that why you gave her to me? A challenge to keep me busy while you have fun cavorting all over Scotland?”

Surely the king knew he would chafe under these new restrictions, staying here instead of being in Robert’s vanguard of warriors during the important campaigns of the next months and year. The battles they faced, to claim the west of Scotland, while the Bruce’s allies took and held the east, would determine the fate of them all. And staying here, tied in one place, was not how Sebastien saw himself and his battle skills being best used.

“It is imperative that this castle and this coast be held, Sebastien. I can trust very few to see to that. I know you view this as some kind of limitation, but you have my utmost confidence in this.”

When said thusly, how could he argue or secondguess the king? Knowing when to hold his tongue, he simply nodded once more and watched the Bruce dismount. Sebastien had won the argument he’d wanted to this day—the children would remain. Accepting that it would be the only one, he nodded in agreement.

“I also need you to make arrangements for the gathering at Kilcrenan next week,” Robert said quietly. He looked from side to side to make certain his words could not be heard, then he continued, “I need the counsel of all of my best men before embarking on what I hope is the final campaign to take Scotland back from our enemies.”

“I understand, sire,” Sebastien answered.

Robert had chosen a village to the south as the site of his “parliament,” where his nobles would plan the next offensives. Its location was a secret closely guarded by a very few. If the Bruce’s enemies knew of it, it could be devastating to those who fought for him.

“Well, you had best return to the castle,” the king said, walking to him and extending his arm. Sebastien leaned over the horse’s side and returned the gesture.

“I still think you should stay in Dunstaffnage, Sire. ‘Twould be safer for you than out in the open.” Sebastien surveyed the area around the camp. He supposed that the king was safe as long as he was surrounded by his army.

“Sebastien,” the Bruce said as he leaned closer. “You must exert yourself there, and my presence will interfere with that. Make that place and those people yours, so that none can doubt you.”

On the face of it, it sounded much like a warning about his men, and even about the MacDougalls who remained behind. But Sebastien knew better. Questions had been raised about his position within the hierarchy of the Bruce’s forces. There was always some nobleman who felt slighted by the rewards or the rank given to Sebastien, or the esteem in which the king held him. Although Sebastien knew that every honor had been earned with the sweat and blood of him or his men, others chose to think differently. When adversity should have united them, it turned small cracks of jealousy and intrigue into major crevasses of greed and mistrust.

“As you wish, sire,” he replied, bowing his head.

“Go now, Sebastien. A newly wedded man should not tarry long.”

Thoughts jumbled together in his mind at the king’s words. He certainly did not feel wedded, or at least not the way he’d always thought he would feel when married. He’d believed that when Scotland was in the hands of the Bruce, he would settle down with a quiet girl and have a home and bairns. If the king gave him some manor or lands…well, Sebastien had never thought of or craved something as grand or as important as Dunstaffnage.

Now, he held that castle and the enemy’s daughter in his grasp, and faced challenges he’d never dreamt of. The weariness, unnoticed before, crept up on him now. He’d not slept the previous night, handling all sorts of duties and details, and now the lack of rest weighed him down.

After watching the king safely enter his tent, Sebastien turned his mount and began the short ride back to the castle. A small part of him wondered about the woman waiting there. Amidst all the bloodshed and war, she stood out in his thoughts like the first blossom of spring, somehow fresh and untouched by the coldness surrounding it. When he remembered her expression as her father had denounced her, and then her strength as she’d pulled herself under control, he knew she would survive whatever came her way.

For the first time since he began fighting in the Bruce’s cause, Sebastien allowed himself to think on what it could be like with a home and a wife. After years of killing and watching comrades die, after marching endlessly from one end of Scotland to the other, after facing odds that foretold their defeat and death, he permitted a small dream to take hold in his heart.

He and the Maid of Lorne were wed in name and deed. Could it not be in truth? Many other women were joined against their wills, to seal bargains, so theirs was not so unusual a beginning. They were from different sides of this conflict, but again, that was not so different from other unions. Coming from the Lowlands, he did not have a clan, as she did. His father did not even know of Sebastien’s existence, but others like himself had risen in importance to found their own dynasties.

He reached up and wiped the exhaustion from his face. His small troop rode over the last hill and approached Dunstaffnage Castle from the south. Its rugged stone walls and jagged appearance against the clear August sky declared that it would stand long after he was dead and buried. He only prayed that Scotland would stand as long as the walls of Dunstaffnage.