Heaven and the Heather (20 page)

“
Bona sera, Signore Rizzio,
” she replied.

Campbell moved closer to Sabine, his arm brushing hers.

“Leave us, Rat-zzio,” he said under his breath.

The little Italian hung his head and joined the gallery of onlookers.

“Pest!” Campbell hissed. “Freak.”

Sabine looked at him aghast. No truer bastard lived in Scotland, ’twas obvious to her, yet she feared, to no one else, especially her queen.

“We wish the hunt to begin,” Mary announced. “The morning will not wait.”

“But the sun would wait to rise and set for you, Royal Highness,” Campbell said. “If you commanded it.”

Mary smiled demurely from beneath the brim of a green velvet hat lavished with pearls and peacock feathers. Lord Darnley stood beside her. Sabine wondered if his face could hold any expression other than boredom.

“Explain to us again this Highland way of the hunt,” Mary said. Then added, “For Lord Darnley’s benefit.”

Lord Darnley straightened, glanced at Campbell, then gave Sabine a small smile from the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat. She hastily looked away to a large pile of rubble a dozen or more paces away, to the west. Anything to distract her, anything…was Niall out there as he had promised? She stared hard at the rubble, at the forest beyond, her heart beating a little faster.

“Well, Your Majesty, it’s quite simple…,” Campbell began.

Sabine narrowed her gaze at the rubble, which was not a haphazard pile of stones. Timbers, half-rotted, thrust out from the moss and vine-covered remains of a stone wall. This was the remains of a cottage, a humble Highland dwelling.

“…My tenants are in the west wood as I speak,” Campbell continued. “Up the hill…” He pointed toward the ruined cottage and up to the forested hill that bordered the small valley.

Sabine glanced at the forest that loomed up the impossibly steep hill. They had entered the valley from the east, on a heathered slope, gentle in comparison to the wall of tree and earth to the west. Nothing short of an Alpine goat could traverse such a landscape.

“…They will chase the deer, and if Your Majesty is fortunate, the great roebuck from the forest,” Campbell said with a swell of pride in his voice. “Your arrow should bring one down quite easily, as your repute of the hunt is far and wide.”

Sabine’s stomach rolled at the idea.

“What fun,” Lord Darnley sneered.

“When will this happen?” Mary asked. “How soon?”

“I will signal your archer,” Campbell replied. “He will send an arrow with a red silk aloft. The hunt will commence.”

Mary smiled. “Lord John,” she said, “have you something for our Sabine?”

“Perhaps my gift will make the
mademoiselle
more agreeable to the hunt,” Campbell said. “I sense her hesitation.”

Sabine shunted her gaze to her intended.

You should sense nothing but my contempt, Sabine thought. Nothing short of a miracle could make her agreeable to anything this hopeless day.

He placed a hand under his cape as a sly smile played upon his lips. He looked directly into Sabine’s eyes.

She dared not look at his face, lest she run screaming into the forest on the other side of this small valley. She steeled herself for the gift and glanced at her queen, so regal, so very unaware of the serpent in her court. She glanced nervously at the dozens of courtesans, at the pages distributing archery equipment. Then she looked to the forested hill. Was Niall there, hiding in the pine shadows, concealing himself behind the bracken?

And he should stay well hid, she thought quickly. What good could he do if he showed himself? He would be taken prisoner, or he would die. That would not do for the queen or for herself.

“
Mademoiselle!
” Campbell snapped.

Sabine jumped. “
Oui?
M’Lord.”

“It seems the landscape has enchanted our Sabine, as much as it has us,” Mary commented with a refined laugh. “These Highlands are most captivating.”

Sabine nodded to her queen.

“Yes…yes, well, if I may, Your Most Gracious Highness. I’d like to present the
mademoiselle
with my gift.”

“Oh, yes, Lord John, please…do carry on,” Mary said with a flip of one bejeweled hand.

With a flourish Campbell produced a slender bundle from beneath his cape. He unwrapped the wool and dropped it to the ground. In his hand, he held a bow and three arrows.

Sabine did not know what to say or how to react. This man and her queen, no doubt, actually meant for her to hunt! She had just assumed that she was to join the royal hunt as a spectator.

She forced a thin smile of gratitude to her lips, nodded to Campbell, but could not utter a word of thanks. He flourished the bow and three arrows under her nose, then up in the air for everyone to see. There were polite nods of approval all around.

Sabine suppressed a shudder and stole a glance at the forest.

“You’ve rendered her speechless,” the queen said. “Well, then to the hunt.” She regarded Campbell. “Where shall we be at best advantage?”

Sabine stood firm. Her best advantage was beside Mary.

“Ah, yes, Your Majesty,” Campbell replied. “You will be most able to bring down one roe, perhaps two, from this very spot. They will most likely run into the center of the glen. Here the sun will be at your back. However, I most respectfully suggest that your entourage stand further down the meadow so as not to impede your success.”

“Do you, Lord John?” Mary asked, one ginger brow raised. She glanced at Lord Darnley who stood picking at his doublet. “Lord Darnley and myself shall remain at this spot and await our quarry.
Signore Rizzio
may take my ladies to a place they feel is suitable.” She paused and glanced at Sabine who was inching closer to her. “Lord John, escort our Sabine across the valley. You will not only have vantage of the quarry, but will have opportunity to speak with her. We fear that marriage holds as much appeal for her as does the hunt.”

Sabine stared at Mary. Her queen knew her all too well.

“We expect that, for her own good, she will find marriage and the hunt quite appealing soon,” the queen concluded with a snap to the last word. With a flip of her hand, she waved all of her court away.

Sabine did not move at first. How could she protect Mary from the opposite side of this small valley? She would be a good quarter mile away.

She turned and finally looked at Lord Campbell who offered his arm and a vapid smile. At least he would not be near the queen either. Small comfort, but comfort nonetheless.

She walked in silence toward the other side of the valley. Now and then, she glanced over her shoulder at Mary and Lord Darnley who stood, heads close together, in hushed conversation.

Campbell took her arm and roughly urged her through the heather. “Show your pleasure at Her Majesty’s graciousness.”

“I will not be happy as long as I have you beside me,” Sabine said on a wave of anger surging inside her. “Marrying me will bring you one step nearer the queen, and further from my heart.”

“I do not need you to place me nearer the queen,” Campbell laughed. “Foolish, girl. Don’t you realize that the queen offered me your hand because she wants to be one step nearer her Highland people and one step further from France? ’Twas not a promise to your father, I assure you.”

“
Impossible,
” Sabine snorted. But she knew it was true. Niall was right. She was a pawn for Mary.

“Keep that tongue back in France, my dear. It has no place in my castle.”

Sabine struggled in his hold. “Why do
you
wish to marry me?”

“’Tis quite simple, my dear,” he said, face close to hers. His hideous breath swept across her on a puff of breeze. He gnashed his teeth in the most uncivilized manner. “A man would be a fool not to want you in his bed, not to want you to bear his heirs…”

She shuddered. Campbell’s heirs? She would rather die than be responsible for bringing his spawn into the world.

Campbell’s words were distant. His harsh tone was a wall between his voice and his sincerity. Sabine doubted if anything about this man was sincere other than his sincere effort to be a
bâtard
.

He practically dragged her the remaining steps to the other side of the valley. Sabine glanced over her shoulder. The queen and Lord Darnley were no more than the size of dolls on the heathered landscape. She turned her gaze back and stopped. What was this before her?

Stones. A circle of them, standing at attention in a wide ring. The stones were twice as tall as a man and three times as wide. They were grey monoliths with weathered edges and a soft patina of moss and lichen. Curious, Sabine took a few steps toward them. They rested on top of a small rise, a dozen and a half strides from her.

“Go sit among them,” Campbell sneered. “Revel in Highland spiritual legend and lore, if you must. They’ve only brought great tragedy, or so I’ve been told.”

“How could stones cause tragedy?” she asked, mesmerized by them, if only for a moment, taken from her worries.

“A long time ago, in the time of the Bruce, two clans met inside the stone circle and perished,” he replied.

Sabine shifted her gaze up at him. “They disappeared?”

“Aye, by blood and sword all because of one thing they could not have.”

“What?”

“Love.” He said the word as if it bittered his tongue.

She winced. “Love, m’Lord?” she stammered. “Impossible.”

“’Tis an old legend. Love is for naught. The legend of two clans prove it. Clans Lamont and Lachlan aren’t the powers they once were because of love. Now, their ancestors are scattered to the wind because two of their kind thought love would unite them. A hapless union, all because of trifles like love. Certain factions of society should never mix. Don’t you agree?”

Sabine blinked. What did Campbell suspect? If he knew anything he did not let on. That was what frightened her.

“Love has brought down many leaders. It steals their common sense and fills them with feelings.” Campbell tossed a glance at the queen and Lord Darnley.

Sabine turned from the stones and glanced across the heather at her queen. The breeze stirred a few strands of hair from her braid. “Will love bring you down, m’Lord?”

“It will not,” he snapped. “Because I don’t believe in such foolish things. My father never—” He bit off his words and took her roughly by the arm.

Sabine stared at him, surprised. She and her intended had one thing in common. Only one thing. Her father never loved her either.

Campbell cleared his throat. “This hunt is long overdue. Time we began.”

He looked toward the queen. “Time we began,” he whispered through his teeth and released Sabine.

A chill sliced up her spine.

“A
ye, ye bastard, time ye show all these good royal folk yer mettle,” Niall whispered. “And by the way, if ye touch Sabine like that again, ye bastard…”

He bit his bottom lip and hunkered down over his horse’s neck. The rubbled, mossy remains of a cottage provided ample cover for him to see the proceedings of the morning. Fortunately for him, the proceedings could not see him. Sabine had looked his way, and he was certain she had not seen him either.

Two of Scotland’s elite strolled in his direction and stopped a few paces from his hiding place. Niall grimaced at the sweet endearments spoken between the queen and the young fop with her. He jerked his gaze across the small glen at Campbell, who raised one hand high in the air. He slashed it down like an ax to the block. One of the royal archers raised his bow and shot an arrow festooned with a ribbon of red silk high into the air. It soared toward the forest.

“Let the hunt commence!” Campbell shouted.

Niall wondered if the deer and roe had also heard the command as he saw Campbell force a bow into Sabine’s hands. She managed to hold the bowstring in her twisted right hand and held the yoke firmly in her other hand. Campbell wrapped his thin arms around her and placed an odd white arrow to the string. He stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. Sabine stood frozen to the spot where he had left her. She looked to be posing for a painting, a goddess, Diana of the Hunt.

Niall squinted across the glen. Sabine was about three dozen paces from him, but he could see her expression. Fear.

He gripped the reins of his mount with one fist and silently slid his claymore from the sheath on his back. Thunder rose in the forest behind him, a cacophony of shouting men and frightened beasts pounding the earth.

He did not take Sabine from his sight. She looked to the forest. The thunder grew, interspersed with the lightning crack of breaking branches.

Niall gripped the claymore tighter. His mount shifted beneath him.

Campbell was shouting something to Sabine, but Niall could not hear over the din of man and beast. He stared at her. She was struggling to thread the bowstring. Her twisted hand failed her for several attempts, before success. She held her weapon at the ready. Campbell stood right beside her. He was yelling in her ear. Niall saw his thin lips form one word.

“Shoot!”

An arrow whizzed past his hiding place. It speared the center of a great roe’s chest. He clearly heard the queen squeal in triumph as the beast went down into the heather with an earth-shaking thud.