In Love With A Warrior (Gunn Guardsman (Book 4)) (24 page)

“Grey, what brings … you here?” Donal stood on the keep’s steps and his face fell when he spotted Emlyn.

“I’ve come to seek your aid.”

“This is not a good time, for the king is in residence.” Donal turned and shot a glance at the door to the keep, and then returned his gaze.

“Good, I wish to meet with Alexander. Come along, Emlyn. You can explain this entire affair to our king.” Grey knew he was being a wee bit stern, but the lass deserved it. She’d destroyed one of his guardsmen and warranted no less.

They entered the keep and Grey approached Alexander. He bowed and waited until the king bid him to rise.

“Grey, my comrade, I am glad to see you.”

“You won’t be for long, Alexander. May I present Princess Emlyn, daughter of Llywelyn, Chieftain of Iorwerth?”

Alexander stood, his tall body looming above Emlyn. He took her hand and raised it. “My lady. So it is true, you absconded with the Gunns when you were supposed to be betrothed to Marshall.”

“Aye.”

She said nothing more, and Grey thought she might be intimidated by their king. Then he changed his mind when she curtseyed and withdrew her hand.

“I did abscond with them and would do it again.”

The king waved her to be seated, but Emlyn continued standing. Grey pulled Donal back when he was about to intrude. “Nay, let her answer for herself.”

Donal scowled at him, but nodded, and returned to his side. Grey noticed his king’s affront, and would’ve enjoyed it if the lass hadn’t done the same thing to him. There were only two reasons Grey put up with the man: one, he was his king, and two, because his wife was related to him and he had no choice but to accept him as a distant family member.

“You disobeyed your father and decided to refute the betrothal he set in place?”

Emlyn raised her chin. Grey understood how James fell in love with the lass, for she was verily courageous and beautiful. Her eyes remained on the king and she showed no fear whatsoever.

“My father bid me to thwart the betrothal and he asked me to ensure I was not given over to Marshall. I was able to gain the Gunn’s aid and here I am.”

Alexander glanced at him and Grey nodded to assert what she said as the truth.

“Did you attire yourself as a princess to have Marshall believe you were not the warrior woman he was told he would be betrothed to?” Alexander chuckled, and cleared his throat.

Grey could see the look of humor in his king’s eyes, but Alexander quickly changed his expression to one of interest.

“I did. A traitor had told him of me and that is the only reason Marshall wanted me. I pretended to be a coy lady in hopes that he would return me to my father.”

Alexander stepped next to the table and took his cup from it. He swallowed a good portion of his drink before returning his attention to Emlyn.

“Marshall found out about your ruse. I know not how, but I never saw him so angered. Your father is given a slight reprieve since Marshall has been called upon by his king to be an envoy to France. You’re in luck, my lady, as he shall be gone for some time. By the time he returns, I deem his temper might be soothed. Is it your will to be returned to your father?”

“It is.”

Alexander shot a look at him, and Grey nodded again, hoping he would allow her to go.

“Laird Gunn, is it your will to have the lady returned? I find it hard to believe you would let go something so exquisite. I heard tell James was involved with her.”

Grey stepped forward and Donal tried to stop him, but he wasn’t fast enough. “Aye, we have no further need of her.”

Alexander tugged at his beard and settled his chin on fist as he surmised them. Grey was about to continue when his king frowned. “You sound put out, Grey. Why so hostile? I never heard ye speak in such a way of a woman. The Gunns are renowned for their kindness when it comes to damsels. Explain.”

He took a breath. “She destroyed my guardsman, sire, for he’s a broken man. He shall never mend his injuries or his heart. And I vow she has it in her head that she’s to join her father’s army and has no care for what she’s done. I’ve never met such a damsel, as you put, sire. We’re glad to be rid of her.”

Emlyn glared at him. He could tell he’d upset her with his speech, but Grey didn’t care for he spoke the truth and the king should know what she’d done.

“Is this true, my lady? Did you destroy his guardsman and have you an affinity for joining your father’s army?”

“Aye and I shall not defend my actions. I care not what any of you think.” She turned to peer at him, and Grey raised his eyes to stare into hers. “Is this true? Is he broken of heart?”

“I don’t deem you care, milady, but aye, I’ve never seen James so … damaged.”

Alexander walked to the hearth, poked it with the long poker, and he appeared to be cogitating. On his return, his gaze was somewhat elusive. “Grey, I know what your guardsmen mean to you. I hope James mends, for you will make it so. You are given leave of the woman. I’ll have Donal’s men return her to Iorwerth at the soonest.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

It seemed forever since she’d been home.
Garth Celyn,
her family’s homestead, came into view and she sighed at the magnificence of it. The land meandering toward the tower and keep, sprouted with tall grasses, and a scent of heather filled the air. How she missed being home.

Emlyn left the Ross’ guard a half a mile from the walls for she didn’t want them to come inside. Alone now, she rode through the gates and noticed many of her father’s soldiers about the lane. He must be home if his soldiers were within the walls.

She dismounted and entered the keep. In quick steps she made it to the hall and found her family having their supper. It was as if she hadn’t existed, for her seat had been taken by Anhard. Emlyn approached her father and stood beside him.

“What do you here?”

Her mother rose and slapped her across her face. “You risked our lives and thwarted the betrothal. I knew you would do something foolish. You dare come here? Be gone. I wish not to see you.”

Her face burned from her mother’s strike, but Emlyn cast her eyes to the table and wouldn’t speak out. She expected her mother’s outrage.

“I will speak with her, Siwan, do not despair.”

“She is forbidden to stay here. I mean it, Llywelyn. Send her away, I care not where.”

Her father took her arm and pulled her from the hall. Emlyn wanted to cry out at the rejection, but she held herself circumspect. She followed him and as they walked along, he bid those who tried to approach to keep their distance. They neared the hillock where the dragon door sat.

He stopped and turned to her. “Why, lass? Why did you return? I told ye not to. I even betrothed ye to the guardsman and bid him to keep you away.”

“Then it is true. You sent me away and betrothed me without telling me? For if you cared not about a war with Marshall, you would’ve found a way to keep me here.” She stood rigid and wanted him to see her defiance.

Her father sighed visibly. “I didn’t want to send you away, Emlyn, but it was the only solution.”

“Solution to what?” She dared raise her voice, but Emlyn didn’t deem she had anything to lose. She was willing to risk her father’s anger.

“Your mother would have been harsh on ye, lass, if I kept you here. She knew Marshall wanted ye. I had to appease her.”

Emlyn stepped back, shaking her head. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. You’ve not only hurt me, but caused James great injury.” She suppressed the urge to weep, but she wanted to with all her heart.

“Why did ye leave the guardsman? I paid him handsomely to ensure you remained safe. What say you? He was injured?”

“Aye, and it was because of me. I didn’t know what you did, Father. Why didn’t you speak of it, the betrothal?” She would’ve handed matters much differently had she known her father promised her to James.

“I wanted him to win you on his own. It appears I made another mistake on your part. I did so with Bevan and now with James. No matter what I do to settle ye, it goes awry. I give over, lass. Do what you will for I’ll not aid you further.”

“Then you’ll allow me to train with your men?”

His look turned from contrite to annoyance. “Aye, you can train with them, but that is all ye shall do.”

“You won’t allow me to war with your soldiers even though I’ve proven myself time and again?”

Her father took hold of her shoulders and shook her. “Proven what, lass? That you can wield a sword? Many women can, but they don’t hail off to war with their husbands.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Aye, I do. You are my daughter and I will die before I see you or your sisters taking to war. No woman will fight in my army.” His voice rose with his assertion.

Emlyn looked at those around her. Most kept their distance during her heated discussion with her father. She opened the satchel she held and rummaged through it and found James’ tartan, the one she’d used on her way to his father’s farmstead. She didn’t know why she hadn’t returned it to him, but she was gladdened she kept it for it was the only thing of his she had.

Emlyn dropped the satchel at her father’s feet. “I won’t be needing this any longer.”

“Where will you go? To the guardsman? I knew there was something betwixt you two.”

It was getting harder to suppress her tears. “There might have been, but like everything else, I ruined it. I was rash and closed my heart to him. He would not accept me now.”

“You seem distraught by this. Did you love him?” Her father spoke with astonishment.

A lone tear trickled from her eye and she hastily wiped it away. For the last thing she wanted was to allow him to see her weep. “Aye, mayhap. What do you want me to say? That you were right to betroth me to him? He was the most gallant man I’d ever met and I like a fool walked away from him. For what? So you could reject me yet again?” Her misery now flowed over her cheeks and she didn’t try to hide that fact from him.

Her father took her in his arms and tried to console her. “Is there naught ye can do? Can you not return to him?”

She couldn’t speak for woe clogged her throat.

“I’m sorry, lass, that I am. I am surprised, and never thought to hear ye bespeak words of love for any man. But do not despair for there must be another man willing to accept you.”

Emlyn pulled away from him. “I want no other. You’ve caused enough damage to my heart, Father. Leave it alone.”

“I won’t let ye suffer.”

“It is too late. Where shall I go? Mother won’t allow me to return home for she’s wrath.”

“She’ll need time to get over her anger. Stay in your grandfather’s domain for now. I will send Branwyn to ye.” He walked off, and she shuttered, and wrapped James’ tartan around herself. She wasn’t sure if she was chilled or if the entire conversation rendered her verily dismayed.

Emlyn approached the door with the dragon and tried the handle. The door opened. She sat at the table and let her head thump against it. Her eyes blurred with more tears than she’d ever allowed to fall. She realized she’d never cried with as much heartbreak. James’ face came to mind when she closed her eyes and all she could think of was the words Laird Gunn bespoke at the Ross’ keep. She’d deserved his harsh words and hatred. With all her heart, she hoped and prayed that James fared better than she.

Chapter Twenty-Six

James had to get out of the barracks. The weather grew too warm to hold up in the confined space. He pulled a clean tartan from the shelf in the garrison and took it with him. The walk to the sea was exhausting, but he wanted to cool off and clean himself. He stripped his garments and walked into the water.

Several unseasoned soldiers swam in the depths. James kept his distance from them because he wasn’t wont to speak to anyone.

Even though the day grew warm, the water remained cold. Within minutes his skin numbed. He realized being in the water made his leg feel somewhat better. Without his weight on it, it didn’t hurt at all.

Refreshed from the swim, James made his way to the shoreline and wrapped the clean tartan around his waist. It was hot enough to go without a tunic and so he hadn’t brought one. On his way back to the keep, he stopped and dumped his launder in the basket outside the garrison. It felt good being outdoors again. He found himself at the top of the incline above the training fields.

What he wouldn’t give to be down on the field exercising his sword arm. Content to watch, he saw Duff instructing a group of young lads. They had to be nearly ten years in age. James hadn’t seen Grey in over a sennight, not since his return from Donal’s. But he discerned his laird was home for Bea had told him so when she brought foodstuffs and had told him Grey insisted he eat.

But James hadn’t been hungry. He couldn’t stomach the thought of food. He did manage to eat a wee bit of what Bea left for him. And when Gell brought the burnt sticks and pieces of wood he needed to whittle his arrows, he left bowls of soups and stews, breads and cheese. There was enough food left for him to feed a family through the winter. James was humbled by their care and so he forced himself to eat again. Much of the food he gave to the other soldiers that stayed in the garrison. They were happy to have the fare.

The sun warmed his chest as he sat there watching the rounds of practice. He grew hot, so much so that he had to move beneath a shady tree or his skin would burn. He stretched out his legs and closed his eyes, and breathed in the summer scents.

“There you are, James. I’ve been looking for you.”

He recognized that voice and grinned. James opened his eyes and saw his longtime friend standing there. “Sean, what are you doing here? No one told me you were coming.” He started to rise, but Sean quickly joined him on the ground.

“I came to get aid. We’ve a good amount of sheep missing and I thought—” Sean ceased speaking and glowered. “You look like hell, James. I don’t think I’ve ever seen ye look so defeated. I’m concerned.”

James leaned against the tree and scowled. He raised his good leg and rested his arm on it. “Why don’t ye tell me what you really think?”

“We’ve been friends a long time, James. I’m not wont to affront you, but I’m being honest. What the hell happened to you?”

He took a breath before unloading the events since he’d last seen Sean. “I had to send her back, for she wasn’t wont to be with me.”

“Aye, mayhap you did what was right. Och you’re fortunate she rescued you.”

“I wish she hadn’t for I deem I’d be better off dead.”

Sean punched his arm, and didn’t hold back for it hurt. “It is not like ye to speak this way. Take that aback.” He punched him again until he conceded.

“Aye, aye, I do. Damn you, Sean, my arm is going to bruise. I’m going to have to find something to do now to occupy my time since I can’t be a guardsman. Grey commanded Gell not bring me any more sticks or wood, too, and I’m bored out of my mind.”

Sean laughed. “Why would he do that? Tell me you’re still not etching those ghastly drawings?”

“You’ll see. Walk with me to the garrison so I can grab a tunic.”

Sean rose and threw a hand at him, and helped him from the ground.

James walked a slow pace and didn’t limp as badly, for he was able to compensate for the pain. Sean didn’t comment on his stride though and relaxed his step. They reached the garrison and Sean bellowed in laughter when he noticed his stash.

“Damn me, James, that’s enough arrows to supply the king’s army for months.”

“Should I send them to him?”

Sean turned and frowned and appeared unable to retort. His breath rushed out in a lamented sigh. “You jest, but I cannot help but be … concerned.”

“Be not. I was bored and needed something to occupy me. Worry not.”

His friend reached for his parchments and flipped through them. He turned and his face downcast. “Is this what your leg looked like?”

James opened his trunk and took out a freshly laundered tunic and pulled it on. He glanced at the drawing Sean held up. “Nay, that’s of a lad who got hurt during training. Keep flipping.”

Sean thumbed through the parchment pages and the rest of the images and his jaw tightened when he saw what he’d drawn. He refrained from commenting to which James was thankful, because the last thing he wanted was his friend’s pity.

“I need to speak with Grey. Are you coming to the keep with me?”

James wasn’t wont to be around anyone, but Sean obviously had troubles and his curiosity was piqued. He decided to join him and find out what was happening.

“Aye. I haven’t seen Grey. How is he?”

Sean raised a brow. “Concerned for you. As am I, as are all within the clan. If ye weren’t hurting, James, I vow I’d knock you on your arse.”

For the first time in weeks, James laughed. The rumble of it reached his chest. It felt good to be somewhat jovial again.

Sean kept his pace leisurely on the way to the keep, and James knew he did so on purpose. He ignored the twinges of pain and concentrated on his comrade.

Silence met him when he entered the hall, and it struck him odd because the hall usually filled with noise this time of day. Bree and the children were absent as well as guardsmen and servants. All, it seemed, had vacated the keep this day.

Bea entered and waved to him. He smiled at her when she approached and hastened to pull out a chair for him. Bea was the only maid Grey trusted in the hall when he had meetings or when news was given. For she would never speak of anything she overheard and wasn’t one to gossip.

“It is good to see you, James. You look … well.”

James softened his gaze and nodded. “As do you, Bea.”

Grey entered the hall and marched with heavy feet to the table. He didn’t seem surprised to see Sean or him inside the hall.

“Laird, I set a cup of ale for each of you and I’ll ensure all are kept from the hall during your ah, discussion.”

“Thank you, Bea.” Grey took a seat and looked after her as she left.

James took the seat Bea had pulled out for him and watched Grey’s face for that look he typically wore when he was concerned. But he saw only a serene expression on his friend’s face and nothing that gave away any deceit. He knew Sean and Grey were up to something, and as much as he wanted to be ireful, he couldn’t be.

“James, you finally joined the living?”

He wouldn’t take offense for his words weren’t spoken in jest. “For a few minutes, at least. I wanted to hear Sean’s news.”

“Aye, Sean, what is your news?” Grey folded his arms over his chest and sat back.

James became suspicious then for his laird was never casual when news was being imparted. He was definitely up to something.

“I, ah, came to seek aid, Grey. I’ve several sheep missing and … other livestock.” Sean averted his gaze and smoothed his hand over the wood of the table.

“What need you of me?” Grey asked.

“I need someone to come help me find the culprits. They’ve taken a decent number and I’ve no one to search …” Sean snatched his cup from the table and sipped it slowly.

James knew he was lying through his teeth. For one thing, Sean’s wife, Frances recently birthed a bairn and Sean would never leave her so soon. Secondly, if his livestock was truly missing, he had a good amount of clan followers to aid him. If he couldn’t spare anyone, he’d send a missive requesting aid, and not come himself.

Their scheme wasn’t lost on him. James hid the grin that twitched at his lips. He waited for Grey’s retort, wondering how his laird would get out of sending someone.

“I, ah, can’t send anyone now, Sean. Donal wants me to join him when Alexander returns, for he went to Edinburgh. He said he wanted a meeting called of the council and it’s set in a fortnight. There’s not enough time to get to your land and back before I must take to the meeting.”

James raised a brow at that because he knew the king had only just been at Donal’s keep and would’ve met with the council when he was there. With patience, James continued to keep silent, knowing his name would be brought into the conversation.

“None of my men have the tracking skills of the Gunns.” Sean refilled his cup and appeared anxious.

“What about James?”

And there it was. Both he and Sean shot a glance to their laird.

“Do you deem I’m that gullible?”

Grey laughed aloud. “Cosh, he’s on to us.”

“Well, what say you? Will you come?” Sean set his cup down and didn’t have a humorous gaze on his face as his laird had.

“What else have I to do?” James said, seriously.

Grey stood, pushing his chair out a few feet from the table. “Then it’s settled. You’ll go with Sean.”