Knight's Blood (36 page)
Authors: Julianne Lee
Tags: #Kidnapping, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy fiction, #Married people, #Scotland, #General, #Fantasy, #Children - Crimes against, #Fighter pilots, #Fiction, #Time travel
“All right.”
“Anything else you need to know?”
A great many things. Alex returned to his original query. “What did that Reubair guy mean when he said ‘negligent husband’? What had you told him about me?”
“I told him your name.”
Just his name. “I have a reputation for negligence?”
“Reubair thinks you are. Not that I give a damn what he thinks.”
“He said your leaving was your choice. And he sounded like he thought you were wrong in making it. Actually, he sounded like a jilted lover.” The offended tone in the faerie’s voice haunted him, and his imagination took flight with thoughts he struggled to rein in. Reubair had spoken of a “pledge,” and that niggled at Alex. His fingers fiddled with a lock of hair against her forehead and he hoped for a denial.
She leaned back to regard his face in the darkness, then sighed, frustrated. “Is that what you think? That I was banging him?”
“Were you?”
“No! And I’m appalled you could think I ever would! I’m married to you, and I don’t fool around with other men! I mean . . . do you sleep with other women? ’Cause if you have that little faith in the vows we took—twice—then perhaps there’s been a terrible misunderstanding and—”
“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t be certain.”
“Why not?”
“I just . . .” There was no reply to make that didn’t betray his insecurity. Then he realized he’d already blown any pretense of confidence.
Screw it
. He said, “I couldn’t figure out why you left London.”
Screw it
. He said, “I couldn’t figure out why you left London.”
“To find the baby.” It was her “of course” voice.
“I couldn’t be certain of that.”
“Again, why not?”
“The photo. I saw the photograph of Trefor. With the ears.”
“But you said our neighbor told you where I was.”
“He told me the baby had been abducted and you left. I didn’t know what to believe. I saw the ears, and that was even more confusing. I knew he didn’t get those ears from anyone human.”
“And where did you think he got them?” Her voice went dark. Ominous. “Just exactly where did you think they came from, Alex?”
Alex hesitated long before answering, knowing how she was sure to react to this, then said, “Who do we know—did we know at the time—who has ears like that?”
“Nemed?” She sat up. “You thought
Nemed
was his father?”
Nemed
was his father?”
“What was I supposed to believe?”
A snort of exasperation erupted from her. “Well, that’s just it.” She threw off the blankets. “That’s just the very end of it.”
Alex grabbed her arm before she could rise from the pallet. “Stop that. There’s no other bed for you to go to, and it’s too bloody cold out there for you to be huddling by a dead fire. Stay here.”
She stayed, but continued. “Shame on you, Alex MacNeil, for thinking that!”
“All right. Shame on me. I’m sorry. I knew I was wrong when Trefor came to Eilean Aonarach and I saw his face. He’s the image of my brother, Carl.”
Lindsay seemed to deflate. “He is?”
“Yeah. For a moment when I first saw him, I thought he was Carl. It was spooky.”
A silence fell, for Lindsay never liked to discuss the grown-up Trefor. Then she said, “Nemed is the one who told me I’m descended from the Danann.”
“All right.”
“You know Reubair works for Nemed.”
“I do.”
“I see.”
“But you weren’t with Reubair. Or Nemed.”
“No. Reubair wanted me to marry him. I declined.”
Alex chuckled. “You cut off a guy’s balls and then got a proposal of marriage? Is he nuts?”
She chuckled at that also. “I think so. He thought I needed protection from the men and offered it in exchange for my making babies for him. I put him off.”
“Because you were already married, or because you didn’t want him?”
“Both. He was insistent, though. Rather full of himself as well.”
“As faeries often are. You guys are the most stubborn creatures I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not a faerie.”
“Your son is. Magic and everything.”
She turned away, and though she shivered in the cold she didn’t come back under the blankets. “Let’s not talk about him.”
“We’ve got to eventually. We can’t just ignore the elephant in the kitchen.”
“I can’t address that man out there.” She looked over at the tent flap and gestured to it as if Trefor were standing outside the tent. “I can’t accept that my baby doesn’t exist anymore. It’s like he’s died.” Tears rose to choke her, and her voice trailed off, high and weak.
“He’s grown up, not dead.”
“He’s not . . .” She held her hands out, grasping at air as if trying to cradle a baby and failing. “He’s not my child. He’s a stranger. He’s . . . for God’s sake, he’s only a year younger than I am. Every time he looks at me I can’t imagine what’s going through his mind. I don’t want to imagine.”
“He doesn’t think of you that way. I know he doesn’t. He wants you to be his mother.”
“I can’t. I don’t know how. I never got to learn.”
Alex would have liked to have told her it was instinct, but he knew it wasn’t. Not for them. Instinct needed a child, and Trefor had never been one for them. Learning needed time, and that had been stolen from them. Nevertheless, he told her, “You’ll learn.”
“I’m not even thirty years old yet. I’m too young to have an adult son.”
“So you’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.”
“He doesn’t.”
Alex knew she was right. Trefor’s childhood was gone, and with them both having left the twenty-first century it was irretrievable. “You’re right. And you know what, that’s something a mom would know.”
For a moment there was silence, then came a snuffling. She laid her palms over her face and began to sob.
“Come,” he said, and took her arm to draw her back onto the bed. “Come back and sleep. It’ll be all right.”
Lindsay lay back down, once again in the shelter of Alex’s body, and he pulled the blankets back over them to get warm while she cried herself out. He had no clue whether anything would ever be all right, but for now he could only comfort her as best he might, then they both would let the issue dissolve for a while in the forgetfulness of slumber.
CHAPTER 18
On departure for the islands by boat from Oban, Hector returned to Barra, and Alex, Lindsay, and Trefor made their landing on Eilean Aonarach. Alex was eager to re-equip and reprovision for the trip to Cruachan, and curious what he would find there. While his boats were being unloaded at the quay, Alex summoned men from the village for a consultation. The messenger flew to his task, for the earl expressed a desire for Donnchadh and Alasdair Ruadh to report on the double. Lindsay disappeared with her servants into the laird’s apartments beyond the meeting room to clean up and find something appropriate to wear in public as Lady Marilyn MacNeil, Countess of Cruachan. Alex supervised the unloading for a while, then went to his meeting with the village leaders.
In the room below the Great Hall in the castle keep Alex parked himself at the head of the large, highly polished table. A couple of tapestries hung on the walls, but those, the table, and the chairs were the only furnishing other than the thick layer of rushes on the floor. The floor covering was changed far more often than was usual in other castles, for though Alex had become accustomed to rank odors he couldn’t abide the health hazards of food waste thrown on floors and animal leavings left to be taken up with the old rushes. Dogs in his castle were trained to go outside, but the knights and servants who lived there resisted being trained not to throw bones and rinds on the floor. Today he looked around the poorly furnished room and realized he was going to have to fix it up. Now that he was an earl, there would be visits from people he would need to impress just to keep this place. It would be costly. He hoped the new island would bring good income.
Donnchadh MacConnell and his cousin Alasdair Ruadh MacConnell, having been apprised of their laird’s recent elevation, made obeisance to Alex and then were invited to sit at the table. They settled into chairs of varying style and richness. Neither had rank or office that was acknowledged by the crown, but Alex recognized them as community leaders. He looked to them to know the minds of his vassals the same way he’d always tapped certain crewmen to know what was going on with the enlisted guys on shipboard. Knowledge was power.
Donnchadh was a tall, burly man, dark of hair and ruddy of face, who commanded a room with his size and resonant voice, but who also knew the value of a soft tread in the presence of his superiors. Alasdair Ruadh was in most ways opposite his cousin, being painfully skinny, red haired, and casual in manner. He was the village blacksmith and plainly knew the value of his skills, for he drove a hard bargain in all things. Alex kicked back in his large, heavy seat and requested Gregor to bring refreshment. The boy hurried away on his errand.
Donnchadh appeared a bit nervous, hesitant to speak, and Alex guessed he was hanging back to learn what sort of earl Alex would be. Alasdair leaned heavily on the table in an insouciant manner Alex knew meant he didn’t give a damn whether Alex had become king.
“Cruachan,” said Alex, and proceeded in Gaelic for, like most of the island inhabitants, Alasdair Ruadh spoke no English. “What do you guys know about it?”
Donnchadh smiled. “All that might be worth knowing, I think. My sister married away to the place.”
That surprised Alex. “I never knew you had a sister.”
“Three of them, two still living. One lives with her husband on the mainland, and the younger on Cruachan with her husband, who is a MacDonald.” A steaming platter of meat arrived, rare and bleeding for it was early yet in the day, accompanied by a jug of mead. The men set to the repast without formality, and Alex found himself more hungry than he’d thought. The food tasted wonderful, having been seasoned from his kitchen rather than his supply wagon.
“MacConnells living there?” he ventured with a cheek full of meat.
“MacDonalds mostly. Some MacConnells, who are related to the Dhomhnallach and so traditionally side with them. Some MacNeils and lesser families, but the MacDonalds hold sway there, I think.”
“Who lays claim to the island?”
“Yourself, my lord.”
Alex chuckled. “I mean, who thinks they have a right to it besides me? There’s always someone.” Donnchadh and Alasdair Ruadh both chuckled heartily, for it was true. There was very little land anywhere in Scotland that wasn’t disputed by someone.
The door behind him from the private apartments opened and he turned to watch Lindsay emerge. She’d cleaned up and now wore a fine, gray dress that showed off her figure. It was a bit loose on her for the weight she’d lost since last she’d worn it, but it still draped over her hips in a way that made him not want to ever look away. He stared, and wished Donnchadh and Alasdair Ruadh could be sent away and he would take her there on the table. But there was more important business at hand, and he forced his attention to it.
Donnchadh was thinking about Alex’s question, then said, “I believe ye might have some trouble from the MacDonalds. They can be a mean, grasping lot, and surely did not take kindly when Robert laid claim to the place after the battle near Stirling.”
“He didn’t take it directly from them. Someone else had it.”
“But neither did he give it back to them. The MacDonald felt he should have.”
“But Robert didn’t install another laird right away?”
Lindsay approached to occupy one of the chairs at the table. Donnchadh and Alasdair Ruadh fell silent. Alex said to her, “What?”
“Go on. I’m listening,” she said.
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