The Renegade's Heart (7 page)

“His sister agrees with me,” he said to
Stewart, fighting his dismay.

“His sister?”

“The maiden at the window. The curious
one.”

Stewart frowned. “She is young, a damsel of
age to wed.”

“Indeed, she is. I am more concerned that she
is curious, and that she lives within Kinfairlie’s keep.”

Stewart eyed Murdoch. “Did you encourage any
notion she had of your intentions?”

Murdoch made light of the matter, for he was
not prepared to confide in Stewart. “I but stole a kiss, when the
opportunity presented itself. She is welcome to make whatsoever
conclusions she desires.”

Stewart shook his head with force. “No, this
is a matter between men. Leave the maiden be, for no good can come
of it. This is not the daughter of a miller or an ale maker, one
who has welcomed any number of men with her affections and will not
suffer for any repercussions...”

Murdoch silenced the older man with a glance.
“I will do whatsoever is necessary to see Duncan’s rightful
property returned. Her brother lies so openly that even she
acknowledges it.”

Stewart was not convinced. “I do not like
that you involve her. Great ill could come to her, should her
brother learn that she acts against him in his own home. What did
you ask her to do?”

“I made her a wager, that should she discover
the truth or the relic, I should leave her brother’s holding.”
Murdoch smiled, for it was true. “It is much the same offer I made
to the laird.”

“I would wager that he thought you already
intended to leave.”

Murdoch grinned. “One cannot answer for a
man’s assumptions.”

Stewart exhaled noisily, his disapproval
clear. “What of those of a maiden? One kiss is little enough, but
you would be wise to leave the matter at that.”

“She admitted already to me that her brother
Ross had been here at the Yule.”

“So, he did leave the service of the Earl of
Buchan. Where did he go?”

“It matters not if he left his spoils
here.”

“You have no proof, lad. This is not a matter
that can be resolved with recklessness...”

“Ah, but, Stewart, I believe it is. I have a
plan to encourage the laird’s memory,” Murdoch said as they
approached the forest. “Should it succeed, the maiden need do
nothing.”

Stewart was still wary. “What plan is
this?”

“He lies. I believe he needs encouragement to
share what he knows. Whether he is himself guilty or defends
another is of no import.”

“And how will you encourage his
confidence?”

“We give every appearance of leaving on this
day, but we will not. We will remain hidden in Kinfairlie’s forest,
and we will guard the road to the keep. We will relieve any
travelers upon this road of their valuables and read any messages
they bear, although we shall ensure that none are injured.”

“How does theft encourage the return of
stolen goods?” Stewart demanded.

“Is it theft if we donate all we gain to the
people of Kinfairlie? I see it as alms or perhaps a loan.”

Stewart shook his head. “The laird will not
see it such. He will see you hunted and maimed for any such
crime...”

“And he will have to catch me first,” Murdoch
said, his tone hard. “Are you with me in this, Stewart, or would
you return to Seton Manor with nothing to show for your quest?”

“You were never so reckless before.” Stewart
looked hard at Murdoch. “Where were you, lad? Why did you not
return home? It is clear that you could not have had a wound like
that the earl insisted you had sustained, for it would have lamed
you had you survived. When did you become a man so enamored of
falsehood and deceit?”

“I will not speak of it, Stewart.”

“Perhaps it is best you did not see your
father again,” the older man muttered. “It would have killed him to
have seen his favored son become an untrustworthy rogue.”

Murdoch eyed those fireflies and realized
they were more numerous than he had imagined. Their golden light
reflected on the snow, like a thousand flames on a thousand
candles. The Elphine Queen had followed him.

What would she demand of him?

How much time did he have?

He realized that Stewart yet awaited his
answer. “I will see Duncan’s property restored, if it is the last
deed I do. Surely that vow has merit to you?”

“I do not like it.” The older man exhaled
mightily, looking troubled. He shook a finger at Murdoch. “No one
shall be injured. No blood shall be shed, be it of man or horse.
And if any deed must be done that is illegal, the boys shall not
lift a hand to do it. You know that they would do any deed for you.
I would have your pledge that you will not ask that of them.”

“I will not.” Murdoch agreed. “Then, we are
in agreement.”

“No,” Stewart said with vigor. “We are not in
agreement. I merely cede to your command as I see that you will not
be swayed. It is possible that I can save you from your own folly,
and truly, your father would have wished me to attempt as much.” He
sighed. “I know not what I shall tell the boys of this, for they
have the notion that knighthood is filled with honor, not
banditry.”

“Do they not know the merit of the greater
good?” Murdoch asked, his tone sharp.

Stewart considered him anew. “Where
were
you? What so embittered the honorable man I once
knew?”

“I will not speak of it,” Murdoch said again.
He felt the older man studying him, so gestured to the forest and
lightened his tone. Though he was certain of what his companion
would say, he had to ask. “How strange there should be fireflies in
January. Perhaps this is evidence of the sorcery said to be
practiced by the Lammergeier family.”

Stewart looked at the forest, then back at
Murdoch. The change in his expression said more than his words. He
could not see them. They
were
Fae. “Truly you have need of a
meal, my lord. There are no fireflies in winter.”

“What of the lights?”

“I see no lights. Time it is to have some
bread in our bellies, that is what I see. Where are those boys?
Hamish! Gavin!” Stewart rode onward, shouting when the silhouettes
of their two young squires separated from the forest shadows.

Stewart gave orders to the boys before he had
even dismounted, sending them in haste to gather a meal and set a
fire. They scurried, and Murdoch wondered which of them was more
terrified of the gruff older man. Stewart led the way from the
path, riding deeper into the forest.

Murdoch followed, a trickle of cold sweat
sliding down his back. Kinfairlie and the kiss of Isabella seemed a
thousand miles behind him as the fireflies swarmed around him,
flying around him with frantic speed. Murdoch swallowed and kept
his eyes open. They circled his head in a dizzying blur, their
light bright enough to make him wince.

With proximity, the truth was inescapable.
They were Fae. Tiny Fae with golden wings, Fae who laughed and
chased each other, filling the air with the swish of their wings
and the tinkle of their merriment. One landed on his gloved hand
and smiled up at him, as if in recognition of a fellow spirit. It
knew Murdoch could see it, for it laughed at his horror.

The tiny golden Fae marched toward Murdoch’s
cuff, its wings fluttering as it kept its balance. It bent and
tugged back the leather, then stabbed a pine needle into his flesh.
It laughed before it flew away.

A laugh filled with malice.

Dread coiled in Murdoch’s spine.

He tugged back the cuff of that glove with
speed. To his horror, there was a blue swirl on the back of his
wrist, like a vine that sprouted upon his skin. It emanated from
the point where the pine needle had stabbed him, for there was a
single drop of blood there.

The marks were those made by the dwarf, the
ones he had not believed to be real.

Murdoch heard a woman’s low laughter.

He recognized that laugh.

He turned and spied the silhouette of the
Elphine Queen in the distant shadows of the forest. It could be no
other woman, not with those dark wings stretched high over her
head, that black hair running over her shoulders like an onyx
river, and the dozens of small red sprites fluttering around
her.

She had followed him.

She beckoned and he saw the golden glow of
her court behind her. He would not willingly step into that place
again. Murdoch rode on, striving to ignore her but unable to keep
himself from stealing glances her way. He would know her
scheme.

Although he could guess it well enough.

When she began to stride toward him, he knew
he could not flee. She was beside him in an instant, covering the
distance in a blink of an eye.

She ran her cold fingers over his knee,
leaving a trail of icicles on his chausses. “Hail, lover,” she
murmured. “Well met.”

Murdoch studiously avoided her gaze, knowing
that he had been lost the first time because he had looked into her
eyes. “I thought our ways had parted,” he managed to whisper.

She laughed. “You offered me any thing in
exchange for your return to the mortal realm,” she reminded him.
Murdoch would have continued to stare straight ahead, but she
pulled something from her skirts. She displayed it to him, and he
stared in horror.

It was a crystal orb, as clear as a dewdrop
but larger than his fist. And within that clear sphere was a heart,
pulsing red with blood. It could have been torn from the breast of
a stag, given its size, but it would not have continued to beat as
it did. Murdoch could not look away from her prize, so gruesome and
yet beautiful as well.

It was then he realized that its beat was
precisely in time with that of his own heart.

The Elphine Queen blew on the sphere and it
seemed to fill with blowing ash. Or maybe flakes of silver. No,
snowflakes. The tiny flakes swirled around the heart and it skipped
a beat.

Murdoch felt the lurch in his chest. His skin
might have been struck with a thousand needles and pins in that
moment, and he looked down to see glittering dust swirling around
his body.

When he glanced up, the Elphine Queen turned
the orb, displaying the other side of the heart to him. That side
of it was dark, as black as a midnight sky. Dead.

“You would kill me! I asked for release, but
you would kill me instead.”

She shook her head, apparently fascinated
with her gruesome charm. “I gave you release, one moon’s course to
revisit the realm you once knew.” She impaled him with a glance. “I
would have you choose – this world or mine own. I think I know your
true desire. I have hold of your heart, after all.”

She turned as if she would leave him, but
Murdoch wanted to know the fullness of the truth. “What do you
mean? What will happen to me? What have you done?”

The Elphine Queen glanced over her shoulder.
“When the moon is new again, your heart will be as black as mine.
What happens to you will be the result of your choice.”

She blew him a kiss but Murdoch had heard
sufficient. He gave Zephyr his spurs and charged through the cloud
of tiny Fae, scattering them as he rode in pursuit of his
companions.

He needed to be with men, with flesh and
blood.

For every moment that he could.

* * *

Isabella sat at Kinfairlie’s board that
night, toying with her meal. How could she get the key to
Alexander’s chamber without him knowing of it?

Alexander behaved as though all was well,
though she caught concern in his expression once or twice. He had
escorted Eleanor to the board that evening, to the pleasure of the
company. Eleanor had more color in her cheeks, though Isabella
noticed that she leaned on Alexander more than was her habit. She
had lost some weight in recent days, as well. Eleanor laughed as
the assembly granted her good wishes, and gestured to Isabella.

“It was Isabella’s posset that allowed me to
join you again,” she said, pride in her voice. “Soon her skill will
surpass mine in such matters. You shall see.”

“I do not think it will be that soon,”
Isabella acknowledged. “But I am glad to have been of
assistance.”

Eleanor took her seat, smiling graciously at
the three sisters. “Truly, I do not know how I would manage without
the skills of all of you. Elizabeth, I thank you for doing the
spice inventory for me on this day. It sets my mind at rest to know
such chores are done, and so thoroughly.”

Elizabeth blushed to have the attention of
the assembly fixed upon her.

“You shall make some man a good wife,”
Eleanor continued and Elizabeth shot a triumphant glance at
Isabella. “And Annelise, I thank you for playing with Roland on
this day, yet again.”

“He is a joy, Eleanor,” the eldest of the
unwed sisters said. “I think in truth he entertains me, for his
antics are most amusing.”

Moira brought the laird’s son into the hall
at that moment and all admired the toddler. Roland tugged free of
the maid’s grip and bolted across the floor, visiting the hounds at
the hearth before he made a dive for his mother’s lap. Alexander
snatched him as he ran past and flipped him upside down, prompting
the boy to laugh aloud. Eleanor’s hand rounded over her belly
protectively and she shared a smile with her husband.

Alexander must not have confided whatever he
knew in his wife, Isabella decided. He was very protective of
Eleanor, a trait which Isabella much admired. Eleanor had endured
too much sorrow in her life before coming to Kinfairlie, and it was
honorable of Alexander to wish to protect her from any upset.

It was also another indication of his
character. Alexander would not suffer a thief in his holding, if he
could name the villain.

If Isabella could solve the riddle, it would
be good for all.

“You are quiet on this night, Isabella,”
Annelise noted from her left.