The Saint (35 page)

It happened so fast, yet it seemed to pass in slow motion. She could see the razor-sharp edge of steel coming toward her. See her brother’s tortured expression as he realized what was about to happen and tried to stop the arc of the sword already on it’s downward path. She heard Magnus’s cry of fury as he fought to get his sword, and then his body around in time to protect her. Her eyes widened in horror, as she realized none of it would be in time.

She waited for the pain that she hoped wouldn’t last too long.

But at the last second, Magnus wrapped his ankle around hers, tripping her, and twisted her underneath him as they hit the ground, protecting her with the shield of his body.

She’d never forget the sound the blade made as it whizzed by her ear and landed in the dirt with a thud a few inches from her head.

It was deathly quiet for a long heartbeat. Eventually, her brother’s anguished voice broke the silence. “Oh God, Helen. I’m sorry.” He knelt beside her. “Are you all right?”

But Magnus had pinned her with his gaze, a deadly calm surrounding him. His heart was beating unnaturally slowly—ominously slowly. “Are you all right?”

She was shaking inside but forced herself to answer firmly, “I’m fine.”

He rolled off her and calmly helped her to her feet, but she was not fooled—she could sense the fury emanating from him like the fiery blast of a blacksmith’s bellows. Sailors talked of the eerie calm right before the gates of hell opened wide. This was what it must feel like to be in the eye of the storm, harkening disaster. Her brother didn’t know what was about to hit him.

“Thank God,” Kenneth said.

He started to get to his feet, but Magnus grabbed him by the neck and thrust him up against the closest tree. “You rash, bloody fool! You almost killed her!” He gripped him tighter, cutting off his breath. “I should kill you.”

He seemed intent on doing just that. Kenneth was pulling at his hands, trying to get him to let go. But some kind of supernatural strength had come over Magnus. His arm was like a steel rod; her big, muscular brother couldn’t budge him an inch.

She grabbed at Magnus’s arm, trying to pull it away. “Magnus, please let him go. You’re hurting him.”

His eyes were flat, black with cold rage. For a moment, she didn’t think he heard her. “He almost killed you.”

“He didn’t mean to,” she said softly, as if trying to soothe an angry beast. “It was an accident.”

“Accident? He can’t control his damned temper. He’s undisciplined, rash, and a danger to everyone around him. How can you defend him?”

Tears filled her eyes. “I’m not. But he’s my brother, and I love him. Magnus, please …”

Their eyes held, and slowly she could see the fiery rage begin to dim. He loosened his grip, but gave her brother
one last hard shake before releasing him. “If you ever draw your blade around her again, I’ll kill you.”

To her surprise, her brother didn’t threaten him back. For once, Kenneth’s fierce temper seemed chastened.

The two men faced off silently in the darkness, exchanging silent accusations. There was something more going on between them that Helen didn’t understand.

“Did you dishonor her?” Kenneth managed, his breath still ragged and hoarse.

Magnus stiffened, but before he could answer, Helen turned on her brother. “That’s enough, Kenneth! You are my brother, not my father. I’ve had enough of your interference, and I won’t have any more. I did what you asked of me once, but I won’t do it again. I love him. Nothing Magnus could do would dishonor me.”

Her brother ignored her. His eyes burned into Magnus’s. “Did you?” he seethed. “I’m her guardian for this journey; I have a right to know.”

Magnus’s mouth thinned. It was clear he wanted to tell her brother to go to Hades, but equally clear that he recognized Kenneth’s authority even if she did not. “Nay.”

“But I should like him to,” Helen insisted.

They both turned to her at the same time and said, “Helen, shut up!”

Or maybe Kenneth had said it, and Magnus had only looked it, but the shock to her was the same. Perhaps she should be glad that they were always at one another’s throats; if they ever decided to join forces against her she might be in trouble.

“Stay away from her,” Kenneth said in a low voice. “Would you bring more danger down upon her?”

That did it. Helen’s irritation exploded. “Good God, you, too? What is this supposed danger that I know nothing about?”

Magnus’s mouth was white as he and her brother shot silent daggers at one another.

“Aye, why don’t you tell her, MacKay?” Kenneth taunted.

Magnus looked like he was seriously regretting removing his hand from her brother’s throat. “I warned you before, Sutherland. Shut. The. Hell. Up.”

“Not if you won’t keep your hands off her. She deserves to know what she’s getting herself into.” Kenneth turned to her. “Go ahead, ask him. Ask him about the secrets he’s been hiding. Ask him about Gordon. Ask him about the rumors of Bruce’s phantom warriors attacking Threave Castle a few days after your wedding.”

Helen’s eyes widened. Everyone had heard the stories of the impossible feats performed by a small band of seemingly invincible warriors who slipped in and out of the shadows like phantoms. ’Twas said no one could defeat them. She’d enjoyed the stories as much as anyone else, but had never put much thought into the men behind them. Real or imagined, no one knew their identities. But she felt an eerie prickle of premonition whisper behind her neck. “Bruce’s phantoms? What does that have to do with William?”

Magnus took a step toward Kenneth, but Helen blocked him. “Tell me, Magnus. What is he talking about?”

Magnus’s gaze fell to hers. She could tell he was furious but watching his words carefully. “He’s talking about things he doesn’t know a damned thing about.”

But her brother wouldn’t back down. “Ask him about the strange explosion that took down part of the wall at Threave, Helen. Does it remind you of any stories I used to tell you about?”

She gasped, and her gaze shot to Magnus’s. Knowledge of the Saracen black powder was rare enough to be remarkable. “Is it true? Is what my brother says true? Was William part of this phantom army?”

But she didn’t need to ask. His eyes burned into hers, hot and full of torment.

She stepped back, covering her mouth in shock. “Dear God!”

It seemed incredible that William could have been part of something that seemed almost mythical or apocryphal. How little she’d known him!

To her surprise, her brother looked just as stunned as she was. “Damn,” Kenneth muttered. “It’s true.”

“If you care anything about your sister’s safety you will never mention it again.”

Kenneth’s mouth fell in a grim line.

She looked back and forth between them. “What does it have to do with my safety?”

The men exchanged looks; clearly neither was eager to explain. After a long pause, Magnus broke the silence. “There are many people who would be willing to pay a price to learn the identities of the alleged ‘phantom army.’ Anyone known to be connected to any of them is in danger.”

“But I don’t know anything about it.”

“Aye, but no one knows that,” her brother pointed out.

God, he was right. Helen stared at Magnus. “Am I in danger?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you have a reason to believe I might be.”

He nodded.

“That’s why you were so worried in the forest.”

“What happened in the forest?” her brother demanded.

Magnus looked as if he wished Kenneth far away, but eventually he said, “I thought someone was watching us.”

Kenneth swore. “Why didn’t you go after them?”

His mouth thinned at the criticism. “Because I wanted to get your sister to safety, that’s why. I couldn’t very well take her along. I was about to organize a scouting party when you got in my way.”

“I’m going with you.” Before Magnus could object, he added, “She’s my sister. If she’s in danger I’ll protect her.”
He turned to her. “Come, Helen. I’ll take you back to camp.”

She shook her head. “Magnus will do it.” She watched Kenneth’s expression darken. “It shall only take a few minutes and you can see me from camp. There is something I must say to him.”

“If you need help finding the right words, I have a few suggestions.”

Helen ignored him, not needing much of an imagination to guess what those words might be.

“Get MacGregor and Fraser,” Magnus said to him. “I don’t want to take any more men from camp than that. We will leave as soon as I am done.”

Kenneth didn’t like it, but he left them alone.

The ramifications of William’s involvement with the mysterious warriors were staggering, but one possibility loomed above the others. She thought of the changes in Magnus. His closeness to William. The tight bond he seemed to have with the king. “And what about you, Magnus? What does Bruce’s phantom army have to do with you?”

“The king acknowledges no such army.”

“So because it’s not official, it doesn’t exist? You’re part of it, aren’t you?”

He held her gaze, his expression perfectly unreadable. “Don’t ask me a question I cannot answer.”

But she didn’t need to ask. She knew. He was part of the group, too. Her brother suspected the truth as well. That was one of the reasons he wanted him to stay away from her.

Was it also one of the things that was keeping Magnus from admitting his love for her? Was he trying to protect her? Her heart swelled.

She stepped closer to him, until their bodies were almost brushing. “I don’t want your protection, Magnus. I want your love.”

His expression was fierce in the moonlight, almost as if she had him on the rack. He was waging some kind of horrible war inside himself that she didn’t understand. He shook her off. “Nay. I promised to protect you, damn it, and I will.”

Her heart caught mid-beat. She stilled. Promised? A horrible premonition crept up inside her. “To whom did you make this promise?”

He seemed to realize he’d made a mistake and wished the words back, but it was too late. She could see the apology in his gaze. “To Gordon. I vowed to him that I would protect you.”

Helen let out a very slow breath through the hot vise fitted tightly around her chest. “Is that why I am on this trip? Is it so that you could watch over me?”

He tried to avoid her eyes, but she stared at him until he met them. “Aye.”

She nodded. “I see.” And she did. Clearly. Without the blindness of illusions. It was duty that had forced his nearness, not that he’d softened toward her.

Stung, hurt, and not a little angry, she started to walk away, but he caught her arm, preventing her. “Helen, wait. It’s not like that.”

Her eyes blurred. Hot tears pressed against the back of her throat. “Oh really, then how is it? Are you here—am I here—because you love me, or because you want to protect me?”

His silence was all the answer she needed.

It was a long night. Magnus, MacGregor, Sutherland, and Fraser rode for hours patrolling the forests, mountains, and countryside near their camp at the eastern end of Loch Glascarnoch, trying to find any sign of the interloper. But whoever it was had vanished without a sign.

There were few inhabitants in the area—only a handful of stalker huts and bothies—and so far no one they questioned
reported seeing or hearing anything since the king’s party had traveled through. No suspicious men, no riders, no armed warriors, no brigands, nothing. Of course, it would be a hell of a lot easier if they knew exactly what they were looking for.

They were just returning to their horses after wresting an unhappy cottager and his wife from their beds when Sutherland fell into step beside Magnus.

Magnus tensed, the muscles at his neck and shoulders bunched in anticipation.

“Are you sure someone was there?” Sutherland asked. “Perhaps it was an animal.”

He gritted his teeth. Coming from anyone other than Sutherland, the question wouldn’t have riled him so much. But he couldn’t look at the bastard without seeing that damned sword and feeling the blood-chilling moment of uncertainty when he hadn’t known whether he was going to be able to get Helen out of its way.

Sutherland’s hot-tempered recklessness had been inches away from costing his sister her life. Only the knowledge that the bastard had cause for his anger—and Magnus’s own guilt for what had nearly happened with Helen—prevented him from fully regretting his decision to let him go. But he was waiting for an excuse to shed some of that too-hot blood and didn’t doubt Sutherland would give him one.

“It wasn’t an animal. Someone was there. I heard the ting of metal on metal.”

“It could have been someone from camp.”

Fraser had overheard Sutherland’s question. “But why wouldn’t they make themselves known?”

Magnus and Sutherland exchanged angry glares in the darkness, both thinking the same thing: perhaps the person had been too embarrassed to interrupt what was happening.

“It wasn’t someone from camp,” Magnus said flatly. He
didn’t know how to describe it, except that he’d felt the weight of malevolence in the air and it had been aimed at him—or them, he didn’t know which. It was that extra sense. The primitive instinct that detected danger and set every nerve-ending on edge. His gut told him someone was there and that person was a threat. And his instincts had helped him survive too many times for him to ignore them.

“We can’t take any chances,” MacGregor said, sidestepping Fraser’s question.

“But you aren’t certain my sister is in danger?”

Magnus’s mouth fell in a flat line. He knew Sutherland wasn’t satisfied with the little he’d told him of the King’s message—simply that there was a vague rumor of Gordon being connected to the secret army—but that was all he needed to know. Hell, he already knew too much. With MacRuairi and Gordon’s unmasking, and Sutherland and Helen’s suspicions about him and MacGregor, the identities of the Highland Guard were fast becoming one of the worst-kept secrets in Scotland. “I’m certain of nothing.”

“There is also the king’s safety to consider,” MacGregor pointed out.

Sutherland shook his head. “So we have an unspecified target from an unspecified threat?”