Mist Warrior (45 page)

Branan knew he was about to take an action
,
that once made
,
would forever set his path. There would be no going back. He gazed at the
stairs Catriona had ascended. Branan
just prayed she would forgive him. Before he could s
econd-guess himself,
h
e turned and strode purposefully across the dais
. Branan
drew his claymore and sat in Courcy's chair, leaning
the weapon
against it, just as he would have done in his keep in Scotland.

Shocked voice
s
rose in exclamation.

He sat for a moment to make sure all eyes were upon him. Then he drew a deep breath.
“
Silence!
”
he roared.

The only thing to be heard was the soft pop and crackle of the fire in the giant hearth.

Branan’s
gaze scanned the crowd, acknowledging no one
,
but ignoring nothing. The silence grew heavy.

“
I am the MacTavish,
”
he said
,
his voice rumbling like an ominous storm through the hall.
“
Son of Ra snd"throulf and Raina MacTavish, true heir to the Wardenship of Inglewood, and master of Brackenburgh by right of handfast to the lady Catriona de Courcy. I am here to claim my
birthright and bring to heel
the usurper who murdered my father, who slew my mother, and who threatens to trod my people under his boot.
”
Branan
paused and leaned forward slightly
,
as if he would explode from the chair and attack at any moment.
“
My sword will be the instrument of God's justice. Strickland will answer for his crimes by my hand.
”

Fearful murmurs rose again. The law cleric turned to leave.

“
I thought your business was urgent,
”
Greystoke
growled and clapped his hand on the man's shoulder, stopping his flight.
“
The MacTavish would have a word with you.
”
He shoved the man toward Branan.

“
How dare you lay a hand on a man of the church!
”

Branan steepled his fingers in front of him
,
regarding the law cleric critically. He
had been stunned
when one of
Greystoke
's men returned to Thistlewood with news Strickland had reach into Brackenburgh in a way they never expected. His gaze jumped to
Greystoke
as
the young knight
pr
odded the law cleric forward. Branan
thanked God for
Greystoke
and the fact he
had
t
hought to send a man for him. Greystoke
was experienced, a powerful fighter
. H
e had a good head and a good heart. Branan would be proud to call a man of his caliber, friend.

“
You are making a mistake,
”
< sfon"Gaspan>
the law cleric cried.

“
Nay,
”
Greystoke
muttered.
“
You are the one who has made a grievous error.
”

“
I will invalidate this marriage! The lady will lose everything!
”

“
Nay,
”
Branan said.
“
She willna lose anything. For ye have not the authority to take it from her.
”

“
Warden Strickland petitioned the baron's court
—
”

“
I have no doubt he did,
”
Branan snapped. He spotted the scroll case with the bishop's writ sitting on t
he chair Catriona had vacated. Branan
picked it up and withdrew the parchment.
“
The markings on the scroll case are accurate and correctly placed,
”
Branan said
,
his voice disinterested.
“
The writ is valid and written by the bishop. His seal is genuine.
”
Branan’s
relaxed manner vanished and he leaned forward in his chair.
“
You, Lord Rhys of Glouchester are not.
”

The man's face lost all color
,
but he summoned his courage
,
fully intending to play the ruse to its bitter end.
“
I have no idea what you're talking about.
”
He stepped forward, his fists clenched.

In the time it took Branan to blink,
Greystoke
's blade appeared at the man's throat
,
gleaming sharp and deadly. Alarmed shouts filled the hall. The law cleric's eyes widened in fear. He froze, not daring to move.

Branan caught
Greystoke
's eye and gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

“
I know you,
”
Greystoke
said, his voice deadly in its softness.

Branan thought the man's face could not lose any more color but it did.

“
I recognized you the moment you stepped in the lady's path,
”
Greystoke
continued.
“
Last year
,
you were one of the men accompanying Strickland and his bastard as they collected their tithes and taxes. It was my home you came to
,
demanding money we did not have, it was my wife you touched, and it was my fist that gave you that dent in your nose.
”

The man lunged backward
,
but
Greystoke
grabbed his elaborate tunic and hauled him closer. The law cleric craned his neck to look up at the giant knight. The audience in the great hall fell absolutely silent.

“
Never….
”
Greystoke
said, his voice so low that Branan held his breath to hear the knight's words.
“
Never…b
elieve you can strike a man's wife and he will not burn the image into his mind. I will remember you until the day I die.
”

“
As I said,
”
Branan muttered and rose from his chair. He descended the dais and strode to the man.
“
The writ is genuine so I ken the bishop does indeed desire to sed face="Ginvestigate this marriage. I also ken he would send a trustworthy man to do it.
I doona doubt
the cleric he sent was as talented with his manuscripts and quills as a knight with his sword
,
but he couldna stand against a blackguard who would murder a man of the church
, th
en steal his clothes
,
and the missive he bore. I ken our patrols will find a badly decomposing body on the side of the road in a day or two. As much as I would love to see ye hang for this crime
,
I must write a letter to the bishop and explain what happened to his faithful servant. Justice will be his.
”
Branan
paused, stepping closer.
“
But if the bishop so requests that I exact his judgment
,
I shall do so with a glad heart. I await the day when I can watch you swing on the hangman's noose.
”

The imposter dropped to his knees groveling for his life.

Branan curled his lip in disgust.
“
Greystoke
throw this sodding piece of offal in the dungeon. I will pen the letter to the bishop tonight and send a man with it on the morrow.
”

“
Aye, MacTavish.
”

****

Branan knocked softly on the door to the ladies solar, wondering how he was going to tell Catriona he had tipped their hand.

Beth opened it.
“
Branan, come in,
”
she whispered, holding the door open for him.

He entered
,
noting the only light in the room came from the hearth fire and a small candle Beth had lit. Her embroidery sat in a chair not far from the bed. Catriona lay still, apparently asleep.

“
How is she?
”
Branan asked, his voice low.

Beth motioned him to the table in the corner, away from the bed so they could speak without disturbing Catriona.
Beth mn>
“
I had to give her a sleeping draught. She was falling apart.
”

“
That doesna sound like, Catriona, perhaps her grief be greater than I thought.
”

“
I thought the same
,
but it was only after she calmed did I discover she's fevered.
”

He stared at her in surprise.
“
Catriona
is ill? Why didn't she say anything?
”

“
I don't think even she realized it. She kept complaining of an aching head. After she fell asleep, I checked her and she is still unusually warm.
”

“
That would explain why she struggled so today. If she is ill, the fever and her aching head would make
it
that much more difficult to cope.
”

“
And that bloody law cleric would be difficult enough to deal with even on a good day.
”

“
He wasna a law cleric
,
but one of Strickland's men,
”
Branan said and explained the entire ruse.
“
I was going to pen a letter to the bishop tonight
,
but I will wait until tomorrow. I just want to sit with her tonight. Before dawn
,
I must hie myself to Thistlewood.
”