Highland Hawk: Highland Brides #7 (13 page)

"Aye," said James, his tone sharp with the edge of impatient excitement. " 'Twas in the dead of winter when he saved the young prince, Endorai, from certain death. Continue, Lady Cat. What happened after he killed the wolf?"

" 'Tis said that because he fought so valiantly and so selflessly, the beasties gave him the power to speak with them." She raised one eyebrow and glanced skeptically at the nearby spectacled duke. "But truly, I do not believe a word of it. I think 'twas naught but good fortune that brought the next wild beast to him when he was in such dire need."

"Ho," said a nearby fellow. "Might you be kin to one called Roderic the Rogue?"

"Nay indeed," she said and grinned as she remembered meeting the man Haydan thought of as a father. "I have heard that the Rogue's tales are wild beyond belief."

The company laughed.

"Go on," urged more than a few.

"If you are certain. I've no wish to—"

"Continue," commanded James.

"Very well, then. As you know, Durril had a wee daughter. She was a bonny lass, hearty and happy, with her mother's entrancing eyes and her father's sense of wit. Even as a babe she performed, for she had the gifts granted her by her heritage. 'Twas when she was no more than five years of age that Prince Endorai first saw her perform. Graceful, she was, like a willow in the wind, with hands of magic and laughter like silver bells. But 'twas more than that which enchanted young Endorai. 'Twas her wisdom. Aye, even as a wee lass, she was clever far beyond her tender age. And somehow, in those early years, a bond was forged between the two.

"Though some thought the prince haughty and unfeeling, wee Martuska saw beyond his shortcomings to the depth beneath, and she loved him for it. As for the prince, he adored young Martuska and treated her not as a villein, but as an equal.

"Together, they would spend many of their days. Martuska showed him the freedom of her people, for she could ride as well as any man. Indeed, on her sixth birthday Prince Endorai gifted her with a small but spirited white palfrey that was faithful only to her.

" 'Twas a bonny autumn day that they rode down to a babbling burn. There they stopped by the water for the nooning, and there they played. With Martuska, Endorai could be anything—a pirate or a saint or a bold invincible warrior. There were no boundaries. But they had played hard all that day and wee Martuska was tired. And so, weary and at peace, she lay upon the grass to sleep while the young prince explored the rushes.

"His guards, of course, were watching him. After all, 'twas their duty to do so. But they were not commissioned to protect the wee lass whom he adored. Thus they did not see the evil that approached her through the grasses."

Catriona paused, her expression somber as she eyed her silent audience.

"A wolf?" someone murmured.

"Nay," said another. "A wolf would not be so bold."

"Unless 'twas fevered or—"

"His soldiers would surely see a wolf," said one of James's own guards. Glancing up, Catriona saw that it was the redheaded youth, the one called Galloway. He blushed now, but continued. "It must have been something small such as a—"

"For God's sake, let the lass tell the tale," Lord Spectacles insisted.

Cat delayed not a moment longer. " 'Twas a snake," she said. "Longer than His Majesty is tall, with a head that dove and weaved as he wended his way through the grasses. His evil yellow eyes were unblinking, his forked tongue hissing of death."

"Surely the guards see it," said Galloway, his tone agitated. "Who would not?"

"Maybe they were distracted because they had just lost their commission in a game of tables," suggested Cockerel. He grinned as he eyed Galloway and jiggled the pouch of coins that hung from his belt.

"They did not see it," Cat said. "None saw it. None but Durril."

"The lassie's father." 'Twas MacKinnon who spoke the words, his tone solemn in the stillness.

"Aye, Durril had come to take his wee daughter home, for he cherished her so and could not bear to be parted from her a moment longer.

"As he drew near, he saw a movement in the grass. At first he thought 'twas naught but the wind ruffling the autumn blades. But then he saw it. The adder! Only inches away it was and prepared to strike."

"Surely the guards come now." 'Twas a woman's voice.

Catriona glanced toward Lady Fayette, but it was not she who had spoken, though her eyes looked uncommonly bright and her expression as solemn as MacKinnon's.

" 'Tis the prince that saves her," someone argued.

"Have you not been listening? She has a bond with the palfrey young Endorai gave her. 'Tis the beast that comes to her rescue."

"Nay, none of them saw, so none of them could save her," Cat corrected softly. "Durril knew that. Indeed, in his mind he saw the death of his beloved parents, and he knew in his heart that his wee lassie was about to die."

Lord MacKinnon scowled as if dunking of his own daughters, and Drummond turned his sleepy gaze from the pale Roberta to Cat.

"Broken and terrified, he screamed to the heavens. Ahhh!" Catriona's anguished wail echoed in the rafters.

Disturbed from his preening, Calum launched from his perch to circle near the ceiling.

"And then it came," Catriona said, her voice low with drama.

Not a sound broke the quiet.

"The great harrier."

There was a collective hiss of surprise and hope.

"It swooped out of nowhere." She opened her arms wide as if feeling the wind roar through her own feathers, as if tasting the rush of freedom on her face. "Like a loosed arrow it fell from the sky, its talons curved, its eyes glaring."

From far above, Calum saw her movement and dropped through the air to land as light as morning on her arm.

"But the adder was so near," Catriona continued, her voice quick and staccato. "Its head was drawn back, its fangs bared, its evil eyes steady. 'Twas only a moment to spare, only a heartbeat of time. And in that instant, the harrier attacked. It grasped the coiled body. The serpent writhed wildly. But the harrier launched from the ground and bore the poisonous adder away."

Reaching out absently, Catriona stroked the little greenfinch.

"Durril gazed up in wonder, wanting, nay,
needing
to thank the hawk. But in that instant..."

Lifting the wee bird from her arm, she hid it carefully between her cupped palms.

"It was gone," she said and spread her hands wide.

Calum was nowhere to be seen. Disappeared. There were gasps of surprise, nervous murmurs.

"Where did it go?" James was the only one either bold enough or young enough to voice the question.

"I do not know," Catriona said as if she thought he spoke of the bird in her tale. "Mayhap Durril had called it out of nothingness, and to nothingness it returned. Or mayhap 'twas a magical falcon come only to save wee Martuska. 'Tis for you to decide."

James shook his head, still searching for Calum with roving eyes, but finally he pinned Catriona with a perplexed scowl. "To come just when Durril screamed as he did—it could not have been pure coincidence."

Catriona shrugged. "Perhaps you are right."

"Ho," said Cockerel, turning abruptly away. "Speak of the falcon, and see him land. 'Tis too bad you did not fly in sooner, Sir Hawk. You missed the lady's tale."

Against her will, Catriona turned toward Haydan. His hair was wet and dark, swept back from his sharp features, and around his immense shoulders, his cloak hung in damp folds.

'Twas the same cloak that had sheltered her the night before. The very sight of him swamped her with memories that began at her belly and spread outward in hot waves.

"Lady Cat," James said, calling her back to the present.

"What?" she asked, turning abruptly back to the king.

"I said, Sir Hawk can call in his birds just so."

"Can he?" She felt breathless.

"Aye," James murmured. 'Tomorrow we shall go hawking together."

She could feel Haydan's gaze on her. Something pitched in her stomach. "Nay, I cannot," she said.

"Do you forget that I am the king?"

"Nay. 'Tis just that I have no wish to disappoint you at your birthday celebration. I must practice."

"I will not be disappointed. Not by Durril's kin," he said, and all around her there was agreement.

Chapter 10

"I felt it," Marta said, her tone hushed in the darkness of their shared chamber.

"What?" Cat set Calum on the top of the cage and turned toward her grandmother. "What did you feel?"

"Evil."

For a moment, Catriona could not speak, so intense were her feelings, but finally she found her voice. "Evil?
The
evil? Are you certain?"

" 'Twas directed toward the lad."

"James?" Catriona gripped the old woman's sleeve in fingers numb with emotion.

"Aye."

"Who was it?" Cat asked, barely able to force out the words for the tightness of her throat.

She felt more than saw Marta shake her head. "I do not know, lass. I could not tell."

"But—" Frustration screamed through her. "Nay! You must know. Was it someone near to the king? Was it—"

"In truth, lass, there could be many who hate the lad. 'Tis the way of lower folk to be jealous of their betters." The old woman's voice sounded tired even beyond her venerable years. "I do not know for certain if it was the one for whom we search."

"But it must be." Cat tightened her fingers in her grandmother's sleeve, her desperation so intense she could barely speak. "It must be. He has to be here. He said he would know if I told anyone his secret. He said he would immediately know... and that Lachlan would suffer." She forced herself past the fear. "Thus he must be close at hand."

"Perhaps he lied. Perhaps he would not know, but only told you that to make certain you did not give him away."

Catriona had thought of that, of course. Indeed, she had lain awake countless nights trying to determine how to outmaneuver the one she called Blackheart. The one who had stood in the darkness like an apparition and set forth his horrid demands. She had wrestled it every which way and still had no answer. Maybe Grandmother was right. Maybe there was no need to bear this pain alone.

Sir Hawk's sharp features flashed through her mind. "Shall I seek help?" she whispered.

"I do not know." Grandmother's voice, which had seemed old before, sounded ancient now. "Indeed, lass, I cannot feel that far."

Despair burned Cat like a hot poker. "Then there is no hope."

" 'Tis not so," Grandmother said, turning her gnarled hand to grip Cat's arm. "There is every hope."

"He is alive?"

"He is alive and he awaits your arrival," Grandmother rasped. "That much I know."

"Then we shall get him back?"

"Aye. We shall."

Drawing a deep breath, Cat turned and helped her grandmother toward the bed. Once seated there, they spoke again in hushed tones.

"Tell me now," Cat began. "Tell me all you know of the evil."

Marta closed her eyes, though in the dimness, there seemed little need. "All day I have sat in the great hall and searched for feelings. But the feelings were overwhelming, everywhere at once. It took me some time to separate one from the other."

"And?"

"And mostly it is passion."

Catriona shook her head. "I do not—"

"Passion of every sort," she said. "Lust, anger, hatred, adoration. 'Twas disorienting and bewildering, but then you began your tale, and I felt the emotions recede a bit. Even then it took me some time to tell one man's feelings from the rest, but finally I was able. None of the three men to your left was the one we call Blackheart. Of that I am certain."

"The first three," Cat mused, finding their faces in her mind. "The fellow with the spectacles. The guard called Cockerel. And the balding gentleman. 'Twas none of them? You are certain?"

"Aye."

"And the next two?"

"The fat fellow and the snaggle-toothed lad?"

Catriona nodded. Royal blood did not always produce a royal visage.

"The feelings were muddled there. But I do not think they held enmity for either you or the king. And after that..." She shrugged wearily. "I am old, Catty. When I was only ninety or so I would have known the culprit long days ago, but now..."

"Do not worry," Cat said, though her own nerves were stretched taut. "Rest now in the quiet. On the morrow you can try again." She rose.

"And you?"

"I wasted last night," she said, guilt gnawing at her. "I meant to search once I was certain everyone was gone, but I fell asleep."

"What do you mean when everyone was gone?" Marta asked. Even in the darkness, her gaze felt sharp.

Catriona turned rapidly away, remembering the feel of Haydan's hands on her skin. "There was... there were noises. I knew there were people in the halls." Turning quickly, she headed toward the door.

"Aye," Marta said with her gaze steady on the back of Cat's head. "There were people, and one raptor."

For a moment Cat thought of arguing, or at least of pretending ignorance, but there would be little point. Grandmother might have little use for honesty, but she was always astute. Slipping to the door, Catriona listened for noises on the far side, but none caught her attention. She opened the door quietly.

"My lady."

Cat all but shrieked as she jerked back into her room. "What are you doing here?"

"My apologies." Galloway's face reddened. "I had no intention of frightening you."

"Then why are you lurking here?"

The lad's color deepened. "Sir Hawk sent me. He told me to guard your door until dawn."

"Why?"

"You are most..." His words stuttered off into silence. "That is to say, perhaps Sir Hawk feels that men might..."

She glared at him as frustration burned through her.

"He worries for your safety," he finished.

Dear God, this couldn't be. She had things to do. Dozens of rooms to search. There was no time to waste. But she drew a deep breath and did her best to calm her wild worries. "We have met before, have we not?" she asked. In truth, she remembered him well from the time outside Blackburn's walls.