Ruth A. Casie (4 page)

Chapter Three

Alex approached the prescribed clearing, his every nerve prickling with awareness.

“You feel it, too.” Jamie peeled away from the gnarled tree trunk as if he were an extra layer of bark.

Alex stopped mid-step, amazed by the Scots’ ability to blend in. “I didn’t think you were one for charms and wards.” He raised his eyebrow in amusement. “Fairies perhaps,” he teased Jamie. The big redhead took it well and gave it even better. He was as large as Alex’s brother Cameron, the Viking of the seven Stelton boys.

Jamie’s face lit in a smirk. “You noticed them too, I thought so. Lisbeth’s out to protect us. Surely you’re used to them. She puts them everywhere.”

Alex refrained from touching the stone amulet around his neck.

Jamie fingered the charm hanging from a nearby branch. “Congeniality and agreement. We shall see.” He abandoned the trinket and rubbed his hands together, eager to begin. “Well, I think we need more than charms to resolve this. We have some serious talking to do.”

“What do you know about the attack?” The two warriors sat on a fallen log.

“Only what I’ve been told. You’re lucky Lisbeth knew what to do to rid you of the poison.” He gestured to Alex’s side. “And the devil left the tip of his dirk in you. Poison is a sophisticated way to kill. This wasn’t your ordinary raider. This has the stench of intrigue and politics. Did you see who stuck you?”

Alex shook his head. “I’ve turned the attack over in my mind several times. I didn’t worry about my back during the ambush once I knew someone familiar was behind me.” His elbows rested on his knees with his hands clasped. He brooded over the events. “There are more times than I can count when I’ve relied on that sensation. I couldn’t be wrong?”

Jamie looked thoughtful. “From the description of the wound the assassin attacked from behind.”

Alex gave a nod and eyed Jamie under heavy brows. “Others want me to believe the Scots are at the bottom of this.”

“Alex, no Scots lifted a hand against you.” Jamie straightened his relaxed posture.

“How can you be sure?” Alex muttered uneasily.

“The kirk clans confirmed it. Besides, none of the dead bore the mark.”

“Mark?” Alex dropped his hands and gave Jamie his full attention.

“I thought you knew? Well, I suppose you’ll be family soon enough.”

“What does that mean?” He shot up off the log.

“Alex, I’m not a naïve babe. Your king didn’t remove Lisbeth from Glen Kirk before awarding the castle to you. What else could be his intent?”

“In truth, we’re already married. By proxy at the king’s...delight. Are you put out you weren’t consulted, the man of the family?” Alex gave the Scots a challenging look but he could read nothing in the man’s expression, although somehow he got the idea Jamie laughed on the inside.

“No, I’m fine with your king’s decision. If I weren’t you’d have something to worry about. I just left her at the lodge. She’s vulnerable if she stays there.” He stopped, his brow wrinkled. “You haven’t told her she’s your wife yet?” Jamie’s voice rose in surprise.

Alex wanted to wipe the grin off Jamie’s face. How he hated Edward for putting him in this position.
Just because he’s happy and besotted with his queen doesn’t mean everyone entertains his views.
“What would you have me do? Tell her she’s my wife, then whisk her off to the marriage bed?” His stomach roiled. She’d made it pretty clear she wanted nothing to do with him. Faith, he didn’t need a wife. “I’ll tell her when the time comes. Now, tell me about the mark...brother.”

Jamie shook his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I suggest you tell her soon. Your union would be greatly accepted by the villagers.”

“I appreciate your brotherly advice but I can manage the villagers without them knowing my personal affairs.” Alex fought to keep the bite out of his voice. “About the mark.”

Jamie leveled a stare at him. “We each carry the mark of our clan. Some believe the talisman protects them. Others say it gives them the strength of their brothers. Everyone knows the braid identifies them as a member of a Scots clan.” Jamie lifted the hair at the nape of his neck and exposed a small single braid tied with a bead. “When we looked at the dead, none had the mark.”

“So why the attack?” Alex mumbled to himself and searched for a plausible explanation. “Wesley’s men are all in my service. They are reserved but cooperative, soldiers through and through. I see no dissension among the troops. Crops are good and the farms flourish. My men help with repairs when they are needed. The village market does a good business and attracts tradesmen from the surrounding area. Disputes among the villagers and farmers are limited. There are no signs of discord anywhere.” He sized up Jamie. The realization of the answer came with a heavy weight. “This does have the stench and intrigue of politics, but whose politics—Scotland, Wales or France? To say nothing of London infighting.”

“Glen Kirk sits tucked in the hills on the border between Scotland and England. For the last few centuries it has been in the care of the Reynolds. Their impartial council on both sides of the border has always been met with respect. Without leadership at Glen Kirk there is fear it will go to someone who will not maintain the neutral position. Some fear your king would use Glen Kirk in some way against us. In addition, without a king on our throne there is concern about succession. The Scots lords have contemplated inviting your Edward to arbitrate the succession dispute. Some fear he will take advantage of our situation.”

“Wales could be involved,” said Alex. “Many Welsh lords suffered at the hands of the English. No one is happy with either the castles Edward built or the Englishmen he put in them. They could align themselves with the Scots. Both have similar issues with Edward’s expansion policies. As for the French interest, Edward is willing to fight to retain the Duchy of Gascony. Stoking a war here might deter him.”

“All well and true, Alex, but there is intrigue in your king’s court too.” Jamie picked up a handful of stones and worried them. “I don’t know why someone attacked you, but I do know this—you and Lisbeth must be careful until we find out the whats and the whyfors.”

“Someone convinced the villagers the attack was the result of a curse. They fear my disappearance. They’ve brought me all sorts of magic amulets to ward off the curse. The feel of the knife in my side didn’t feel like anything magical.”

“The history of Glen Kirk goes back centuries, to heathen times. The particulars of an old legend, a curse they say, has been lost over time. Now when things are amiss or cannot be explained, someone dusts off the curse and heaps the blame there. We’ve heard the rumor too. It started when the king’s soldiers went back to court and reported the missing protectors,” Jamie said. He sat back on the log. “It’s not just the two protectors. Their men at arms are missing too, a total of six. I’ve been waiting to see the English army ride in to try and find them.”

“Edward didn’t seem all that upset about these missing men. He told me he expects to receive a ransom in due course.” Alex’s eyes narrowed and his brow wrinkled. “A moment ago you mentioned Lisbeth was vulnerable. Why do you include Lisbeth in this threat?” A flash of anger roared deep inside him. He protected Lisbeth. Who dared to threaten her? The thought startled Alex as soon as it surfaced.

“If the raiders have any idea that Lisbeth is your wife, she is in jeopardy. You’re a seasoned soldier. You know that. And there is another reason—I don’t think Wesley and Darla’s deaths were an accident. I think the incident was contrived to look like one. Wesley told me he suspected some intrigue. He needed more evidence before he brought it to your king.”

“Did he tell you what or whom he suspected?”

“No, he didn’t want to disclose anything until he was certain.”

Baffled, Alex stared at Jamie. “Why these raids? It’s more than taking livestock. Farms have been razed.” He looked down at the ground as if the answer would appear. He raised his head. “It all leads to bringing about a war with Scotland.”

“Not everyone feels the way you do. Without a king on our throne, some may see an opportunity for themselves or even a stepping stone to the English throne.”

“You’re my choice for the Scots king.”

“No.” Jamie clapped Alex on the shoulder, the worry on his face faded. “I’m simply a hotheaded highlander with a wife to care for and wee ones to raise. I leave diplomacy to those with a taste for it.” He stood. The meeting was over. “We won’t find the answer today. But I will see what I can unearth.”

“And I’ll tell Lisbeth she’s to return to the castle grounds until we sort this out.”

“Oh, you think she’ll agree so easily? I would use every bit of diplomacy if I were you. Appeal to her civic duty. And tell her the two of you are married. I left her at the hunting lodge. Stay safe...brother.” Jamie left shaking his head. “Keep the wind at your back,” he said. The forest quickly claimed him.

* * *

Lisbeth, bent over the furrows in the small garden, harvested the last of the fall carrots and tossed them into her basket. Freshly picked spring onions, assorted herbs and her favorite berries were in abundance. The berries’ sweet fragrance was too tempting. She popped one into her mouth. She stood and brushed the dirt from her hands on her apron.

“Good day, Lisbeth.”

She swung around, caught off guard by the sudden sound of Alex’s voice. A wrinkle of apprehension crossed her mind. She should have known he’d approached. Her eyes searched past his shoulders trying to make out if anyone stood behind him.

“Jamie’s not with me. He’s gone back to his wife.” He took the basket from her and escorted her to the lodge door.

They entered the main room and put her basket on the table. It was a comfortable man’s domain, lived in and casual. He sat on a chair by the hearth.

“First, I want to thank you for your care. You have my gratitude.”

She noted his formality and waited. The silence lengthened. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “I’m glad you’ve recovered. Does the wound pain you much?”

He scooted forward to sit at the edge of the chair. “No. The wound is still tender but I’m a fast healer. What can you tell me about the metal you took out of me?”

She removed the fragment from the pouch at her waist, and laid the thin sliver of steel in the palm of her hand.

“Jamie was right. It’s the tip of a dirk.” He took the metal from her and examined the engravings closely. “The etching is unique. But there’s not enough to identify the design or what it signifies.” He lifted the fragment toward the window and turned the shard slowly.

Her eyes followed the steel. “It’s not smooth like a Scot’s weapon,” she offered.

“No, it’s not.” He tucked the piece back into her pouch. “Anything else?” He held her gaze for a moment, rose from his seat, and went to the window.

His apparent unease surprised her. “The assassin dipped the blade in poison. I detected the odor at once and confirmed it when I removed it from your wound.”

“I suspected as much. A small cut wouldn’t disable me so. I’ve had worse.”

She had observed his scarred body firsthand. She knew a wound that size would not lay him low.

“Do you have any idea as to the blade’s source?” His hand traced the window’s edge.

“No, I only know its purpose.” Fear held her in place. “Whoever wants you dead will try again.”

“I suppose they will.” His hand stilled. After a few minutes he turned to face her. “You will return to the castle.” He held up his hand to stall her objection before she said anything. “I’m moving everyone to the castle grounds. It’s not a choice, not even for you. Raiders sacked the farms by the border. The villagers worry. Besides, your ability to heal will be invaluable should anything happen.” He lounged against the window frame but he was clearly uneasy.

“I can help them just as easily staying here. As a matter of fact, I am closer here to those that need me than if I was at Glen Kirk.” She hoped she looked calmer than she felt.

“Lisbeth, King Edward expects me to protect Glen Kirk and all its people.” He pushed himself away from the frame. “That includes you. I can’t protect you here. I can at Glen Kirk.” She looked away from him. The silence lengthened.

“Would you consider a compromise?”

Her head tilted and her eyes found him. “What type of compromise?” She noticed how his eyes sparkled with a challenge.

“Come back to Glen Kirk, and when the threat is over if you still want to come back here, I will bring you back myself.”

“I will consider your compromise but it is you who should be concerned.” She stood and closed the distance between them.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” A ring of command replaced the casual tone in his voice. A stern expression hardened his face.

“I know nothing with any certainty. I do know they will try again. And soon,” she added in barely a whisper.

“Of course they will. That’s what assassins do.” He stood solidly, his hands on his hips, and stared out the window. “I’m glad that’s settled. You’ll return to the castle. It is yours to do with as you please. You can visit here whenever you like, but not alone. Until we capture these raiders and their leader I want someone with you.” He crossed his arms in front of him.

She found herself staring into eyes darkened with indecision. “Did you want to say something?”

“No, there is nothing else.” He waited a beat. “Yes, there is something else.” Alex didn’t move. He unwound his arms but still held her with his eyes. “I’ve also come for payment.” He smiled. His strong features held a certain sensuality.

“Payment?” She hesitated.

“Yes. We made a bet, and you lost. You owe me a kiss.” He took her hand.

His fingers were cool and smooth. Lisbeth’s heart raced. He would claim his kiss now? Her cheeks burned with the memory of her dream. “You were asleep, there was no way...” She was still lost in his eyes. They reminded her of summer lightning.

“Was I?” His low soft voice teased.

The sun poured through the window and surrounded them in a golden mist.
His gaze was a soft caress.
She instinctively stepped closer to him and caught a whiff of mint with a hint of bay.
He touched her only with his smoldering eyes.
She lowered her head
,
afraid she would reveal too much;
already every part of her body screamed for him.
She fought to control the building excitement
,
afraid she would succeed.