Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (87 page)

Aidan gained his chair at the high table and rubbed his eyes wearily.

“Are ye all right?” Kenna asked, sitting beside him.

“Aye,” he said, mustering a smile for her, but his face was still alarmingly gray.

The door to the keep opened, and Aidan’s expression melted into a broad grin. “Gordy!”

The young man strode toward him, returning his smile. He stopped a pace away and bowed. “Welcome home, young MacGrigor.” He looked at Kenna and bowed again. “Ye must be Sparrow. Greetings, lassie.”

“Gordy,” she said smiling. “’Tis good tae finally meet ye.”

“The pleasure be mine.”

“Sit, refresh yerself,” Aidan said. “Then ye can tell me yer news.”

“Thank ye,” he said, taking the chair Aidan offered him. Servants poured wine and brought him some food. “Did yer brother tell ye about the herald the Bruce has sent?”

“He mentioned him, but I dinna ken much. ’Tis only been the last day I’ve been up and about.”

“Aye,” Gordy said nodding. “Ye ken ye gave us a bit of a fright.”

Aidan waved him off. “So how much trouble am I in?”

“A heap of it,” Gordy muttered and speared a piece of cheese with his dagger, popping it in his mouth. “Ye ken yer brother sent me out tae learn what was going on when Connell arrived and told us the happenings.”

“Aye.”

“The Bruce has ordered yer arrest. He’s learned the truth about Mairi and her bairn.”

Aidan growled a curse.

“Fortunately, the English have been keeping the king busy. He defeated the infantry at Glen Trool but now moves his forces north, continuing tae stay on the west coast. Rumor has it he seeks tae again pick the battlefield at Loudoun Hill and hand the English yet another humiliation.”

“Longshanks is surely vexed over that.”

“Aye, but his health be even worse. He continues tae move the bulk of his army toward the Burgh on Sands, but it be slow going.”

“Hopefully, the Bruce will have more important things tae worry about than stretching my neck.”

“His herald will arrive tomorrow.”

“And I will give him the courtesy of hearing his words before tossing him out of my gates,” Ronan said as he approached. He carried his daughter, holding her upright against his shoulder. She tried to look around, her blue eyes bright with curiosity, but she still struggled to control her head and listed to the side slightly. Ronan chuckled, steadying her, and she decided she was content to gum her da’s shoulder.

Aidan laughed, wincing as the action pulled at his injury. But seeing his niece gnaw on his brother’s shoulder and drool on his tunic was something he found delightfully funny.

Ronan gained his chair at the high table, adjusting Maeve in his arms.

“Ronan,” Aidan said, his humor fading. “I dinna want ye incurring the Bruce’s wrath on my behalf.”

His brother scowled at him. “Incurring anyone’s wrath has ne’er stopped ye afore.”

“Ye didna have a wife and a wee bairn tae worry over afore.”

Ronan waved his concern off.

Lia emerged from the kitchen, carrying two cups. She placed one in front of her husband and the second in front of Aidan. Both Aidan and Ronan groaned in disgust at the same time.

Kenna chortled next to him.

“Hush, lassie,” he growled. He and his brother saluted each other with the cups, downed them, and both shivered in revulsion, which only made Kenna laugh harder.

Aidan shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips, but he was grateful when Alba refilled the cup with regular wine so he could rid his mouth of the taste.

Aidan heard the call of the sentries and scowled. Had the Bruce’s herald somehow arrived early? Ronan handed his daughter to Lia then did his best to wipe the drool from his tunic. Lachlan hurried to him, speaking softly.

Ronan smiled and relaxed in his chair. Although Aidan didn’t know who entered the gates, Ronan wasn’t concerned, therefore he wasn’t either.

A clansman Ronan often employed as a messenger entered the keep, barking a greeting. He approached his laird, bowed, and handed over a scroll case. Ronan dismissed him as he withdrew the scroll, broke the seal, and read, his smile growing.

He handed the scroll to Lia. “Yer uncle sends his regards.”

She blinked, took the scroll, and scanned it.

Ronan looked at Aidan, his steel-gray eyes sparking merrily. “’Tis one less thing tae worry over. Laird MacTavish was quite pleased tae learn his niece survived and has grown into a fine healer with rank and standing of her own. He returned her inheritance.”

Lia’s eyes widened as she read the scroll. “You gave him how much gold?”

Ronan’s shoulders shook as he laughed.

“Ronan,” she scolded. “That was far too much.”

“Dinna worry over it, lass. He be in a war zone on the west coast and needed it. He hopes we can visit when things become more stable.”

Lia blinked at him in surprise.

“He be yer uncle,” Ronan said gently. “I dinna mind.”

“If . . . if you’re certain,” she said softly.

“I am.” He took her hand and kissed it.

Connell entered the hall with Mairi, his ever-present shadow, and her bairn trailing right behind. Aidan was glad to see them. Mairi no longer appeared as a frightened rabbit, jumping at every little noise, but with his recovery, he’d had no chance to speak to Connell at length. Yet the man once again had a grim set to his jaw.

He escorted Mairi to a chair at the table and acquired one for himself. Connell saluted Aidan with his cup before taking a drink then looked pointedly at Ronan.

Ronan withdrew a piece of vellum from his belt pouch. “Aidan,” he said, unfolding the vellum. “While ye were recovering, Connell brought this tae me.”

“What is it?” Aidan asked curiously.

Ronan approached and handed him the vellum.

“I found that on the man Lachlan and I slew,” Connell said. “Laird Stewart’s man.”

Aidan frowned as he scanned the vellum. “’Tis a writ from Laird Stewart, bidding his man tae continue tae employ Hurstal’s group tae slay wee Adam if something should happen tae him.” That didn’t surprise him, but as he continued to read, his heart dropped to his boots. “Good glory, Stewart’s man-at-arms was far more. He was his son and heir.”

“What?” Kenna asked.

“But I heard Stewart tell the Bruce he needed ye tae produce an heir.”

Kenna gazed at him, confused. “Aye,” she said softly. “According tae rumor, Stewart’s first wife died in childbirth. Wife two and three died before they quickened.”

Aidan’s thoughts scrambled. Remembering the rumor Fionnghall had told him, that Longshanks had employed the knights-errant, but there was a laird in Scotland directing them. Stewart had mentioned Hurstal, and this note proved Stewart had been the one in control. But something else bothered him.

Stewart’s entire point of marrying Kenna, a lass young enough to be his daughter, was to produce an heir. But if the man-at-arms was the laird’s son, why would he bother?

He remembered when he and Kenna had started to discuss this at the inn, but then one thing had led to another and . . . 

Aidan adjusted himself uncomfortably in his chair, forcing his thoughts back to the matter at hand. Aidan had wondered if Laird Stewart had a greater scheme than just directing the knights-errant for Longshanks.

“Kenna,” he asked softly. “Do ye ken who started the marriage negotiations between Stewart and yer father?”

She nodded. “Stewart was the one who approached my father.”

Aidan stared at the vellum and rubbed the back of his neck. “When?”

She thought for a long moment. “A good three months before my wedding train. My father haggled like a horse trader. Had Stewart spitting in fury at times because he was so stubborn.”

“Ye said Mairi had been a maid in yer service for six months when Hurstal attacked yer wedding train. So when negotiations began, she had been with ye for three?”

“Aye,” she said, nodding. Then her eyes widened and she covered her mouth. “Ye mean . . . ?”

Aidan took her hand, lacing his fingers between hers. “The wedding negotiations were nothing but a sham. Stewart kenned yer maids would accompany ye. It was simply a way tae get Mairi and her bairn out of the keep and into the open where Hurstal could attack.”

“But why have them attack at all? Why not wait until we arrived? The prince’s bastard would have been delivered tae his gates.”

“No doubt Stewart didna wish tae risk the association,” Ronan said, continuing to stand next to Aidan’s chair. “Being attacked by bandits on the trail was anonymous. Stewart kept his hands clean.”

“And only paying half my ransom guaranteed I’d be slain,” Kenna said then shook her head. “But if Stewart’s goal was the bairn, why bother sending a ransom at all?”

“Stewart’s goal wasna the bairn,” Aidan said. “Stewart’s goal was tae give Hurstal the opportunity he needed tae kill Adam. Yer death and Stewart’s subsequent defeat of yer father tae gain MacLean holdings was Stewart’s profit in the matter. He saw an opportunity and took it. Yer father indeed had met his match when it came tae scheming.”

Kenna thought for a moment. Abruptly, she shrugged, ducking her head, but her face was pale. “It matters no’,” she said softly. “Even with Stewart and his heir dead, I will gain nothing. My father hated me; he named a distant nephew as his heir.”

“What about yer dowry, lass?”

Again she shrugged. “That was forfeited, for I am still alive and didna marry Stewart. No doubt the Bruce has taken it and all of Stewart’s properties into his own holdings. He needs lands tae get his Scottish nobles tae support him, for if they bend a knee tae him, they will lose their holdings in England. He needs something tae keep them loyal.”

“Yer lassie has it aright,” Ronan said.

Aidan looked up at his brother. “What does this mean for Mairi and her bairn?”

“The Bruce be a danger still,” Ronan said. “And no doubt Longshanks willna take kindly tae Hurstal’s failure. He canna risk succession tae the English throne.”

“So he will only hire more mercenaries.”

“Aye,” Ronan said with a nod.

Aidan rubbed his eyes. He was in growing pain, and the medicant he had drank muddled his thinking.

“Aidan,” Kenna said, her fingers tightening on his. “Ye need tae rest.”

“Aye,” Ronan quickly agreed. He picked up the vellum Aidan placed on the table and returned it to his belt pouch then helped Aidan to his feet. “Tomorrow be a day that will hold its own challenges.”

Aidan wished he could disagree, but he could not deny the truth of his brother’s words.

I
t was late afternoon of the next day before the sentries spotted the Bruce’s herald approaching in the distance. It would be close to evening before he arrived. Gordy reported that the herald boasted several guardsmen. Ready to take Aidan into custody if negotiations did not go well, Aidan knew.

Connell helped Aidan down the stairs. Kenna and Mairi were already in the hall working to help Lia prepare for the royal representative.

“Aidan,” Connell said softly as he moved slowly, patient as Aidan took the stairs one at a time.

“Aye?”

He hesitated, staring at the ground a moment. “Before the herald arrives . . . I’m going tae take Mairi and her bairn out of here.”

“What?” Aidan asked, taken aback, then alarm rose within him. “Nay,” he said more sharply than he intended. “Wee Adam has had enough running. He be safe behind these walls.”

“His presence places everyone behind these walls in danger. Ye’ve sacrificed enough on his behalf, and I’ll no’ put my laird in such a predicament.”

“Connell,” Aidan said, gripping his shoulder. “What’s done is done, and it be mostly my own doing.”

“But now ye have a price on yer head. Now the MacGrigor tangles with the throne of Scotland.”

“The Bruce might be our king, but he still works to solidify his power. As long as England keeps him on the run, there is little he can do.”

“Except hang ye and take even more land from MacGrigor.”

“Cease!” Aidan snapped then struggled to rein in his temper. “Connell, at least listen tae what the herald has tae say before rushing tae judgment. We’ll talk tae my brother and hopefully find a solution that doesna involve risking Adam and Mairi.”

Connell studied him a long moment, the lines on his face more harsh than Aidan had ever seen them. Aidan returned his gaze evenly, wondering if there was more to this than he was seeing. Connell took his oath to Mairi seriously, but Aidan was starting to think there was more to it than that.

“My friend,” Aidan continued, his tone gentling. “Dinna rush out the gates just yet.”

Connell nodded slowly and helped Aidan the rest of the way down the stairs.

HHH

Kenna sat next to Aidan at the high table, wearing a fine dress Lia had given her, and together they had altered it enough so it would fit Kenna’s small stature. But as the Bruce’s herald was announced and entered the great hall, she suddenly wished she had her biodags and had hidden herself in the shadows.

“Easy, lass,” Aidan murmured as her fingers tightened on his. She glanced at him and he shot her a bright grin. “Dinna worry, we will find a solution.”

“I pray that is sooth, Aidan,” she said but had to admit seeing his smile did much to settle her nerves.

Ronan, also wearing his finery with his wife at his side, nodded as the herald entered and bowed in respect.

“MacGrigor,” the herald said. “I bring ye fair tidings from His Majesty, Robert the Bruce, my liege and our king. He bids me tae convey his pleasure at the recovery of yer health after our enemy laid ye low.”

“Thank ye,” Ronan said, studying the young man a moment. “I ken ye, ye be Laird Sinclair’s lad. Glory, I havena seen ye since ye were knee high.”

Sinclair grinned brightly. “Aye, and my da sends his regards as well.”

“How be the old man?” Ronan asked, his smile growing. He gestured for Sinclair to take a place at the table. Sinclair did so and spoke while the servants gave him refreshment.

“The same, only older, uglier, and more foul of temper.” He took a long drink of wine.

“Arena we all?” Ronan asked.

Sinclair lifted his cup in salute. “Aye,” he said, but his humor faded. “I pray forgive me, MacGrigor, but we have some serious business tae discuss.”

“I thought as much.”

Sinclair pulled a scroll case from his belt and held it up. Gordy stepped up, took it, and handed it to Ronan.

Ronan studied the seal a moment then broke it and read, his jaw tightening. He looked up. “Has His Majesty given ye leave tae negotiate on his behalf?”

“Aye,” Sinclair said, nodding.

Ronan sat back and rubbed his jaw.

Aidan’s hand tightened on Kenna’s. “I ken that look,” he whispered. “Now the horse trading begins.”

“His majesty be vexed with young MacGrigor; there be question as tae the identity of a bairn that was claimed kin. His Majesty learned the truth that he be Prince Edward’s bastard child.”

“And the Bruce sought this child,” Ronan replied, waving him off. “I ken that, laddie.” He leaned forward. “Now, tell me something I dinna ken.”

“There be grievous crimes against young MacGrigor,” Sinclair replied. “Killing Laird Stewart and several of the Bruce’s men, plus he insulted the king when he rejected the Bruce’s gift of a holding. But His Majesty be willing tae forgive all of that in exchange for the bairn and his wet nurse. As ye no doubt ken, the Bruce wishes tae exchange the bairn tae secure the release of his wife.”

Connell muttered a curse under his breath. Aidan shot him a look, but Kenna noticed Mairi and her bairn were nowhere to be seen. Kenna frowned; Mairi was usually never far from Connell.

“Laddie,” Ronan said gently but firmly. “Ye ken that negotiations be worthless unless all the facts be brought tae the table. I have learned my brother discovered a traitor in the Bruce’s hall and slew him.”

“Munro,” Sinclair said, nodding. “That be a reason, in part, that I am able tae negotiate with ye. His actions earned the king’s gratitude.”

“And his actions should earn even more. My brother discovered a second traitor and ended his life.” Ronan pulled the folded piece of vellum out of his pouch and gave it to Gordy, who in turn handed it to Sinclair. “This was taken off of Stewart’s man-at-arms. At least we thought he was a man-at-arms, but in truth, he was Stewart’s son and heir. Stewart was also in league with Longshanks.”

Sinclair quickly read the parchment, his face losing color.

Aidan made a noise in his throat, and Kenna realized he fought down a laugh. “My brother just took away the king’s greatest leverage against me,” he whispered.

“Perhaps,” Ronan said, “ye should state again my brother’s crimes.”

Sinclair said nothing, rereading the vellum several times. Finally, he lifted his gaze to Ronan’s. “He lied about the bairn’s identity, claiming the child was his kinsman’s. He slew the king’s men—”

“Hold!” Ronan barked and leaned forward even more, his eyes glittering. “The Bruce claims the bairn, Adam, as the prince’s bastard. Yet I say his is no’.”

Sinclair blinked at him, his jaw going slack.

“After Aidan hauled Munro before the Bruce, exposing his treachery, the Bruce stated for any and all tae hear that he could no longer trust the information he had learned through him. Tae make matters worse, he couldna even trust the spies in his employ.” Ronan paused again and Aidan captured Kenna in his gaze, and she realized he did so because he was fighting to control his mirth.

“My brother,” Aidan whispered, “has always had a flare for the dramatic, which our da thought tae be quite a skill and encouraged. He loves playing tae an audience.”

Kenna felt her lips twitch. Indeed, Ronan appeared to be relaxed, perhaps even enjoying himself.

But Ronan’s attitude abruptly changed, turning darker, almost threatening. “Because the Bruce couldna trust the spies in his employ, he sent my brother on a fool’s quest that nearly cost him his life.”

“Yer brother returned hale from his quest. It was the knights-errant who nearly slew him.”

Kenna noticed movement next to Gordy as he stood in the shadows, just off Ronan’s shoulder. A man, barely visible, whispered in Gordy’s ear. Gordy’s expression never changed, but he nodded curtly and the man in the shadows disappeared.

“He had his horse shot out from under him,” Ronan snapped, only now allowing a bit of his temper to show. “Ye are correct in stating Hurstal wounded him, but I have half a mind tae hold the Bruce responsible for that as well.”

Sinclair started to reply, but Ronan surged from his chair, his hands braced on the table as he leaned over it. “The Bruce had himself crowned as Scotland’s king, but I havena bent a knee tae him. And I willna unless he allows this matter tae drop.”

“Of course, MacGrigor,” Sinclair said evenly. “All the Bruce wants is the wet nurse and bairn. Deliver them and I shall take my leave.”

Kenna’s heart pounded as she looked from Sinclair to Ronan. Then Gordy stepped forward and whispered in Ronan’s ear. Ronan’s brows collided in the middle of his forehead, but she could tell nothing from the change in his expression.

Gordy stepped back.

“Nay,” Ronan growled at Sinclair.

Suddenly, Gordy was next to Aidan and Kenna. He lowered his head between them. “I just received word. Longshanks is terribly ill but he refuses tae leave his army. It is predicted he willna live a pair of days.”

“They’ve been saying that for the past year,” Aidan whispered.

“This information comes from the priest that treated him. The exact same priest who married Ronan and Lia, and who was chosen for that honor for a reason. He has been one of the Hawk’s birds for years.”

Kenna’s heart pounded and her fingers tightened on Aidan’s. He had been watching the entire exchange between his brother and Sinclair with mirth, but now his expression also turned dark.

“Thank ye, Gordy,” he said.

This makes no sense!
Kenna’s thoughts screamed as she continued to watch Aidan.

Gordy nodded and whispered again in Aidan’s ear. Kenna could not hear his words, although the spy within her desperately tried. But then she realized what she was doing and was mortified at herself for trying to spy on the man she loved. Bloody hell! She was a fool. While she was in the process of kicking herself, Gordy stepped away.

“What goes?” Kenna whispered to Aidan.

“My brother has things well in hand.” He looked at her and winked. “Just watch, little sparrow.”

“MacGrigor,” Sinclair said, “ye drew Longshanks’s eye before when ye destroyed the War Wolf, do ye wish tae draw his eye tae ye again by holding a bairn he wants dead?”

Ronan straightened and laughed. “I can see yer da didna teach ye all he kenned of negotiation. Ye just acknowledged that Longshanks wants the bairn dead. Why, then, does the Bruce think the child can broker the release of his wife?”

Sinclair blinked at him a moment. “’Tis not my place tae question my king.”

“Aye,” Ronan snapped. “That duty falls tae me and every laird of Scotland. I have spoken at length with my brother, I ken the deception here. The Bruce seeks tae claim the son of one of my kinsmen as a bastard heir tae the English throne. In exchange he’ll forgive crimes against my brother that dinna exist. Ye dinna have a leg tae stand on. In fact, I should take offense at this ploy tae use an innocent bairn, the son of good man who I call friend.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “But I willna do that. I realize diplomacy is needed here. Sinclair, I am prepared tae offer the Bruce a great gift, even though it is he who owes a greater gift tae my brother.”

Sinclair scowled. “What be this?”

“The Bruce be in a precarious position. He be Scotland’s king, but few wish tae defy Longshanks. I have at my call a well-trained and experienced infantry of one hundred, and a heavy cavalry of fifty. Those numbers are small in comparison tae the English hordes, but the king sorely needs them if he is tae win this war. He needs his lairds. MacGrigor and the Bruce have had our differences in the past, but I am willing tae look beyond that and focus on our future. If I give him allegiance, others will be more inclined tae do the same. Tell the king tae leave the bairn within my walls. If he does so, I will bend a knee tae him and swear fealty. I will personally lead these troops, if that be his desire.”

Aidan exploded from his chair, his hand clutching his side at the sharp movement. “Ronan, nay!”

Kenna rose to stand beside Aidan, watching him in confusion. He had just voiced that he had faith in his brother, but judging from the redness of his features and the blue vein rising on his forehead, he was enraged.

“Peace!” Ronan snapped and glared at him. “I ken what I be doing.”

“Ye would pledge fealty tae a thief!” Aidan snapped. “What of yer oath tae Da?”

“Caution, little brother, my oath tae Da be mine tae uphold.”

Fear and confusion rioted within Kenna. This was the first time she had heard Ronan refer to his brother as “little.”

“And if he were alive tae hear yer words, he’d clout ye,” Aidan snarled. “My God, man, he must be turning in his grave.”

“Gentlemen, peace!” Sinclair snapped.

Ronan and Aidan both fell silent but still glared at each other like two dogs bristling for a fight.

“MacGrigor,” Sinclair said soothingly, “ye have given me much tae think about. I must send word tae the king and inform him of this most generous offer.”

“As ye will,” Ronan said, but he was still glaring at his brother. Slowly, he tore his gaze from Aidan and focused on Sinclair. “Upon the morn, I shall give yer man my fastest horse. Until we hear word, Sinclair, ye and yer men have the barracks. Gordy, see tae it,” he snapped and snagged Lia’s arm. His boot heels echoing against the stone floor, he guided his wife from the great hall.

Aidan snapped a curse and grabbed Kenna’s arm. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “But I need yer help getting above stairs.”

“Of course, Aidan,” Kenna replied. Dear God in heaven, what had just happened? She couldn’t keep up with this turn of events. The only thing she could acknowledge was that the brothers were suddenly at odds, and she felt her worry growing.

HHH

Aidan heard the door to the keep bang closed and knew Sinclair and his guards had left. Midway up the stairs, he sagged heavily against Kenna. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

His brother was at his side in an instant. “I feared that would be too much for ye,” he growled and hauled Aidan’s arm over his shoulder.

Lia stood at the top of the stairs, her arms folded, her foot tapping impatiently. “You’re both bloody daft fools!”

Aidan managed a grin at her. “Aye, that’s why ye love us.”