Highland Guard (14 page)

Harcourt nodded. “Ye need to think of something that looks like punishment to all the others yet isnae too harsh.”

“Garderobes. Slop buckets. For at least a fortnight.”

“Och, ye have a cruel side, Joan,” said Nicolas and he laughed.

“It serves me weel from time to time.” Joan looked at Annys. “Shall I tell the girls that?”

“Aye, but mayhap nay until they have buried their sister,” said Annys.

“Agreed. I will give them a wee bit of time to grieve and pick a day for them to come to me to hear what their punishment will be. Let them ken one is coming. ’Tis best.”

Annys nodded and then looked at Harcourt. “Ye found nothing to help ye hunt down Clyde or Sir Adam?”

“Nay. We followed the mon’s trail for a wee while but it grew too dark to read a trail weel. We will return there in the light of day and see what we find.” He glanced toward the door. “And I think ye will be sorting out Biddy’s sisters earlier than ye had planned.”

Annys looked to the door and watched two young women walk toward her. Their faces were blotched with the marks of a long time of heavy crying and they held hands as they moved toward her. She immediately felt sympathy for them but was determined to be firm. They had done something that was seriously wrong and needed to be punished for it.

The two girls curtsied and the taller one said, “We have come to beg your forgiveness, m’lady. I am Florence and this is Davida. We did wrong, m’lady. We ken it. ’Tis just that Biddy was so scared and crying and . . .” She fell silent when Davida nudged her in the ribs.

“Biddy was the eldest and we have long done what she told us to. This time we should have found the backbone to say nay. She had done a terrible thing. Nay, a lot of terrible things and would have done more with no care to who might suffer. I am shamed by what she did. I helped let her go simply because I couldnae bear to watch her die e’en though she deserved such punishment.”

Annys was a little stunned by the blunt honesty of Davida, the girl’s gaze never faltering as she had spoken. This girl was the strong one in the family, she suspected, with none of Biddy’s weaknesses. It was tempting to say they were forgiven and send them on their way but she could not, as the lady of the keep, be that lenient over what was a very serious crime.

“’Tis good that ye ken how wrong ye were and there will be a punishment handed down. Howbeit, your sister is dead and it can wait until ye bury her. Good or bad, she was your kin. When that is done, ye go to Joan and she will tell ye what ye must do to pay for this.”

Annys reached out and took each girl by the hand. “I understand and I forgive ye. But, it was a grave wrong ye did, so I will also see that ye serve your punishment. Aye?”

“Aye,” said both girls and they turned to leave but halted after a few steps and Davida looked back at her.

“It was a grave wrong but, do ye ken, it was also foolish. One of the saddest things is that we risked ourselves to try and save her from hanging, but she kenned full weel her plans and her betrayals would bring an army to these gates, mayhap right inside when we were nay looking so that we could be slaughtered more easily. She didnae e’en consider that that could mean we die, too, and all so she could sit higher at the table.

“So I bless ye for being kind enough to forgive us but, weel, I am nay sure I have that kind a heart. Help her though I did, it will be a verra long time before I e’en consider forgiving Biddy.”

Annys sighed as she watched the two girls leave. Having a sister who had blackened their names as deeply as Biddy had meant the girls were already being punished. She would not relent though for the people of Glencullaich had to see that she could be firm, forgiving but also ready to give punishment when it was deserved.

“That Davida bears watching,” said Joan. “She has a good sharp wit and backbone.”

“Aye, she does. And isnae easily fooled.”

“Nay. Florence has a tender heart and I suspect Biddy kenned how to use that to her advantage. Davida did what she felt a sister must but wasnae fooled for a moment.” Joan stood and brushed down her skirts. “I will go see if they need or want any help preparing the body after I make sure Benet is abed as he should be.”

“I could check on Benet if ye wish, Joan, so that ye can go to the girls,” said Harcourt.

Joan just cocked one brow at him and nodded. “Ye do that. And if he has that cursed lamb in the room be sure to take it back to the barn. Lad has been trying to keep it close because he fears someone might try to kill and eat it again.”

Seeing the look of motherly concern on Annys’s face, Harcourt placed a hand on her shoulder and held her in her seat. “I will, Joan.”

Joan looked at Annys. “Let him deal with it. Benet might still be little more than a bairn, but he is a boy, and maybe hearing a mon talk some sense into him will sink into his head and ease his fear for the beastie.”

Annys frowned as Joan walked out of the hall in search of Biddy’s sisters. What Joan said about letting a man talk to Benet made sense but she felt a little annoyed that she couldn’t fix everything for him. She looked up at Harcourt and inwardly sighed. She would let him go to Benet. At some point in his life Benet would have to learn about Harcourt. It would not hurt if he had a few good childhood memories of the man when that time came.

“Shall I go?” he asked, praying she would not say no.

“Aye, go on. I had not realized he was still doing that. And, after all, ye were right there when it happened and helped rescue him as weel. Might add some weight to what ye say. I think at times he just thinks I am being a mother and saying things to calm him down just as mothers should do.”

Harcourt laughed and kissed her on the forehead. She fought not to reveal her excitement tinged with a hint of embarrassment when he whispered the word
later
in her ear. A moment later he was gone, eager to do something to help the boy he could not claim.

“So,” said Gybbon as he looked at her after watching Harcourt leave, “I must assume that there will ne’er be a nice roasted lamb served at a Glencullaich table then.”

Annys gaped at him then clamped a hand over her mouth when Callum slapped him on the back of his head. She started to laugh and soon they were all laughing. It felt good and she welcomed it.

 

 

Harcourt walked into the room after greeting the guard outside Benet’s door and looked at the boy as he shut the door behind him. He could see no lamb in the room, just the cat sprawled rather obscenely on its back at the end of the bed. It opened one eye to look him over and closed it again. When he looked at Benet again, however, he noticed that the boy was sitting up in his bed, his small hands clasped and resting on his lap and an angelic look on his face.

“Benet,” he said, “ye ken ye are nay supposed to bring the lamb to your bedroom, dinnae ye?” He sat on the edge of the bed and pretended he did not hear the soft bleat coming from beneath it.

“Do ye see a lamb here?” the boy asked.

“Nay but it is here, isnae it?”

Benet sagged, his thin shoulders slumping, and he nodded. He reached over and banged twice on the bed frame. There was a brief scramble and the lamb appeared from beneath the bed. The fact that he had actually trained the lamb was astonishing, but Harcourt was not going to praise his skill this time.

“Why cannae it stay?”

“It is cute and small now, Benet, but it will grow. Ye have seen a grown ewe, havenae ye?” The child nodded. “Ye cannae have that expecting to join ye in your bedchamber every night, now can ye?” Benet shook his head. “Roberta needs to sleep in the stable.” He sighed when he saw the child’s lower lip wobble and his eyes turn shiny with tears.

“I dinnae want anyone to kill her and eat her.”

Harcourt moved to lie beside him on the bed and put his arm around his thin shoulders. “Benet, people do eat lambs, but there are a lot of them at Glencullaich. No one needs your lamb to survive. They also all ken that Roberta is your special lamb and not one person here would e’er think of hurting it. Those men were bad men, mean men. They didnae care whose lamb it was or that it was making ye unhappy to see them trying to kill it. We dinnae have those kind of men here.”

“Nay, we dinnae. I just get afraid for her. What if someone thinks my lamb is one of the ones they can eat? She looks like some of the others.”

“That is easy enough to fix.”

“It is?”

“Aye, we shall put a collar on it. I suspicion your mother can think of something. Mayhap e’en something with Roberta written on it so no one can mistake it for just any lamb.” When Benet started to scramble out of the bed, obviously intending to have it done immediately, Harcourt caught him up in his arms and put him back in place beside him. “Ye can talk to your mother in the morning and ask her if she can make something for Roberta.”

“Oh. Aye. Dunnie will keep a watch on Roberta, aye?”

“Aye. Now, go to sleep and I will take the wee beastie to the stable.”

He kissed the top of the boy’s head and then got up. Even as he picked up the lamb Benet leapt out of bed and stood in front of them. “Benet?” Harcourt asked, hoping he was not going to get a fight about the lamb now.

“I need to give her a kiss good night. She expects it.”

Harcourt looked at the animal he held who was trying very hard to dip her head down to Benet and sighed. He crouched down and waited as Benet kissed the lamb on the head and gave it a little pat.

Then Benet climbed back into bed but kept staring at the animal.

“Benet, I give ye my word as a knight, the lamb is safe in Glencullaich.”

“I just worry, ye ken.”

“Do ye trust Dunnie?”

“I trust ye, too. But, aye, I do trust Dunnie. He has been teaching me how to care for Roberta.”

“Weel, that is where your lamb will be. With a mon ye trust in a stable ye go to all the time in a keep that doesnae have men as bad as the ones who scared you.” He was relieved to see Benet smile and lie down. “Now, sleep and ye can see the wee beastie in the morning.”

He took the lamb to the stable and shook his head when Dunnie just laughed. Yet he found himself watching how the man treated the lamb for a moment to reassure himself. Harcourt shook his head again and headed back into the keep. Discovering that Annys had gone to see a new baby born to the weaver’s wife, he sat with his men and talked over what they should do on the morrow to continue readying themselves for the war they were certain was headed their way. When he heard Annys return, he waited what he considered a reasonable amount of time and then, ignoring the teasing of the others, went up to her bedchamber.

Annys opened the door at his knock and smiled at him. Harcourt smiled back, stepped inside even as he picked her up in his arms, and kicked the door shut behind him. Carefully he walked her to the bed, tossed her down, and started to take off his clothes as she laughed. It was, he decided, a perfect end to the day.

Muttering a curse, Harcourt made his way up onto the walls to take a turn at the watch. On the one hand he was more content than he had been in a very long time. He had a willing Annys warming his bed. On the other hand, there was still a lot that stood between them that could turn what they shared from a blessing into a curse.

She had to stay at Glencullaich. His son had to remain David’s heir. There was Gormfeurach and its people waiting for him to return. His brother had entrusted the care of his son’s lands to him. Back at Gormfeurach there was also the chance of gaining some land of his own. If he turned his back on that then he became no more than a landless knight, not a man worthy of the lady of Glencullaich. And that was the one thing that bothered him the most, he decided. He loathed the idea of coming to her empty-handed. She deserved better than that.

“I would have thought ye would be in a much lighter mood,” said Gybbon as he joined Harcourt at the wall. “Ye have certainly been smiling a lot this past sennight.”

Harcourt laughed but the moment of good humor passed quickly. “Aye, and most times I still am despite nay having solved this trouble with Sir Adam. Yet, although I am nay sure if I or she looks for this to last, every so often I find myself thinking of all the reasons it cannae. She must stay here and I must go back to Gormfeurach.”

“Ah, aye, that is a trouble. Especially since ye could gain yourself some land for the care ye are taking of Gormfeurach.”

“’Tis already chosen.” He nodded at Gybbon’s look of surprise. “’Tis but a matter of drawing the boundaries. Many things to consider when doing so. Then I hand o’er a token payment for the deeds to it and ’tis all mine. If I stay here, I really have no right to it.”

“And Annys cannae take the laird of this land away from it, especially with such greedy kinsmen eyeing it. They may have sat back as Sir Adam tries to take it but they all want it.”

“Nay, she cannae.”

“’Tis a shame the elder brother died.”

“Aye, but, if he hadnae, David wouldnae have wed Annys, and, in the end, there wouldnae have been a Benet. That would be a loss. As she said once, for all that is wrong in this tangle we put ourselves in, there is one bright blessing and that is Benet. Change one little thing and he wouldnae be here.”

“How did the elder brother die?”

Harcourt shrugged. “In some battle in France. David always bemoaned the fact that he didnae ken the how or even the where of Nigel’s death. Nay e’en the when. The letters, though ne’er plentiful, just stopped coming about seven years ago. Every inquiry David sent out brought back naught.”

Gybbon looked out on the land beyond the wall. “Ye could always set Nicolas here to watch o’er the land just as Brett set ye in Gormfeurach.”

“Nicolas has no kinship to me or to Annys. It wouldnae hold long.”

“Nay, mayhap not.” Gybbon clapped Harcourt on the back. “Ye will think of something if ye find ye have the need to do so.”

The need to do so was growing stronger every day, Harcourt thought. Each time he had to hold back because her people were around watching them, or he had to slip out of the bedchamber with a care to get away unseen, his resentment of such secrecy grew. He wanted to openly claim Annys as his. The thought of riding away from her once Sir Adam was defeated stung more sharply with each passing hour. It would be as if he had left behind a piece of himself.

He began to think he had done just that when he had left her years ago.

It was far past time that he took a good deep look into his own heart, Harcourt decided. Far past time to make a few hard choices as well. Not only was his indecision embarrassingly clear to his men who knew him so well, but he was finding it irritating himself.

“Who is that?”

Gybbon’s question pulled Harcourt from his thoughts. He followed the direction of Gybbon’s pointing finger and looked out at two distant figures riding toward them. A moment later he breathed a sigh of relief, one heavy weight lifting off his shoulders.

“’Tis those cursed MacFingals returning,” he replied.

“Ye can see that from this far away with naught to aid ye but a weak setting sun mostly covered by clouds?”

“I can see the shape of them, how they sit a horse, and e’en a wee bit of the horses. Enough to recognize the beasts as the ones the MacFingals took when they left. Those vain fools near always wear their hair loose as weel, just as those two riders do.”

“So, ye didnae send them to their deaths as ye had begun to fear.”

Harcourt scowled at Gybbon as he turned to begin his way down off the walls. “I didnae think that. They sent word now and then. I kenned they would be back when they found something we needed to know.” He ignored Gybbon’s mocking snort of laughter.

The MacFingals were riding into the bailey by the time Harcourt got there to greet them. He noticed that both men had returned with more than they had left with. Extra very full packs were secured on each horse.

“Did ye go to a market on your way back here?” Harcourt asked even as he prayed the thievery they had so clearly indulged in was not something he would have to strenuously object to.

“Aye, in a way,” replied Nathan, grinning widely. “We decided Sir Adam’s men didnae need to be carrying so much about on Lady Annys’s land so we kindly lightened their burden a wee bit.”

Harcourt shook his head. “And they are nay hunting ye down?”

“May be but nay this way. They think we came from the far north.”

“Come inside then. We can talk while ye have some food and drink.”

It did not trouble Harcourt when he caught no sight of Annys as he and the others entered the hall. All that had occurred in the last few days, from discovering Biddy’s betrayal to her own close escape, had exhausted her. It would not surprise him if she had slipped away for a brief nap before the evening meal was all set out. He knew he should feel guilty over the fact that his greed for her lush body had undoubtedly added to that weariness he had seen in her of late, but he found that he did not.

“So, what have ye discovered?” he asked the MacFingals after they all sat at the table and the two men began to fill their plates with food. “Ye were gone a long while, long enough that I was thinking on which of my kin I would be willing to sacrifice by sending them to Scarglas with the news that I had lost you.”

Ned laughed and shook his head. “Those fool men of Sir Adam’s ne’er suspected us. Thought we were naught but two more men who thought to earn a few coins for swinging a sword around. Only one I was worried about was Sir Adam himself for I wasnae certain if he had remembered us here with ye that time he came or e’en when someone was watching Glencullaich.”

“But he hadnae.”

“He may have,” said Nathan as he refilled his tankard with ale, having downed the first drink with unhesitant greed, “but he is one of those men who doesnae notice the soldiers or servants, only those of a higher birth. He didnae e’en like coming round to speak with us, always using that fellow Clyde to do his talking for him.”

“Clyde is a verra busy mon.”

“Ah, aye, we heard about that poor lass,” Ned said. “She had to pay for all she had done and planned to do but it was a verra hard death. I suspicion ye didnae tell the women everything, aye?”

After a quick glance to make sure they were alone, Harcourt shook his head. “’Tis why the body wasnae brought home for a while. Cleaned her up a bit although ye cannae hide everything, can ye. Callum sent word that I needed to come and help find a trail for the ones who hanged her. So I am hoping all that will nay be known. For the sake of her sisters if naught else. Joan has made no mention of it and she helped them prepare the lass for burial so that may be the end of it.”

“It will be hard for those lassies for a while but I think the people here are nay the sort to hold the sins of one kinsmon against a whole family.”

“Nay,” agreed Nathan. “Good, kind folk here.”

“The lassies are still working out their punishment for setting their sister free,” said Harcourt. “Couldnae just let that go e’en though they didnae hide their crime. Oh, and now that ye are back, ye will probably start wooing the lassies again.” He ignored their grins. “Word of warning. Biddy’s sister Davida is young and verra bonnie and no fool. She e’en saw the wrong in her sister and there isnae any mercy in her heart for the woman.”

“Yet she set her free.”

“Family.” Harcourt was not surprised when both MacFingals nodded.

“Weel, the most important thing we discovered is that Sir Adam is verra busy gathering an army and ’tis a sizeable one.”

Harcourt cursed. “I suspected that. He has failed to kill either Annys or Benet, failed to drive her away with everything from stealing stock to setting the village on fire. Only thing left is to just take the place. He wasnae e’en planning to do that fair. He was using Biddy to find him all the secret ways in so he could send men inside and slaughter as many as possible that way.”

“And Biddy failing in that, getting herself caught and questioned, enraged Clyde,” said Ned. “When the word first came that the fool lass had actually run back to the keep, and then that ye had kenned about her meeting with Clyde, he killed two fools before he grew cold again. And, nay, I am nay sure how he kenned it. Thinking he has one or two lads just sitting round in ale houses gathering news. Only thing I am sure of is that no one here, aside from Biddy, has e’er helped him. The lack of another spy was what so enraged Clyde and he was verra clear about that when he was ranting.”

“It is the kind of news that would travel far and fast. But, she was nay clever enough to have kept it all to herself when she went to him anyway. So, do ye think this army a worthy one?”

“Some of it. He has a small number of men sent from half a dozen kin and money to hire more swordsmen. The quest to take Glencullaich from a four-year-old boy has stirred up a lot of MacQueens. I suspicion they are hoping for a wee piece.”

“It sounds as if Sir Adam will have to fight hard for a long time to get his arse in that laird’s chair. And, if he works some miracle and wins the battle, that knowledge will give me some comfort.”

“Och, we willnae lose,” said Ned. “Got more skills, more wits, and more strength. And big, thick walls. Dinnae forget the big thick, walls.”

Harcourt laughed. “Nay, let us ne’er forget those walls. Especially since we are mostly confident we have sealed all the bolt-holes. The two we might have to use have been heavily secured but are still able to be used. I am nay one to think it noble to die to the last mon, woman, and bairn. Ye can see when that time comes that a loss is racing toward ye. That is when ye start to get the women and bairns out, while ye can still have men ye can set on the walls to protect their retreat.”

“Agreed,” said Nathan. “A large number of Sir Adam’s forces are just hired swords, and the number of those whom I would call skilled is but a small part of it all. There is only one group he hired that ye need to be verra wary of.”

“His archers,” Harcourt said. “We saw a showing of their skills when they fired the village. Are they still with him?”

“Aye and there are about twenty of them.” Nathan nodded when the others cursed. “They will be busy replacing their arrow, however, and it appears there is a scarcity of fletchers in the area.”

“Had a great need to be south of here for a wee while,” added Ned.

“We dinnae need an army,” said Callum with a laugh. “Just a few MacFingals. Let us hope Sir Adam demands to begin his fight ere his archers can replace those lost fletchers. Now, I have a confession to make.” He grinned when everyone looked at him. “’Tis nay that exciting.

“I am still looking for ways to go in and out of Glencullaich unseen. I was doing it all by myself, inspecting every inch of the wall, every space between buildings, and walls, every floor, wall, and roof. But then I was telling Peg about how Roban keeps appearing in places where we cannae see how it could get in and the lovely Peg said, when she could stop laughing, ‘Why dinnae ye just follow the cat for a while?’” He looked at the stunned expressions on his friends’ faces and nodded. “So, ere I bared my moment of humiliation to the world, I tried it. Yesterday. And I found three places.”

“Three? When did this place become riddled with holes?” demanded Harcourt and he dragged his fingers through his hair. “I looked this place over from top to bottom when we first arrived and do so regularly now.”

“Only one of the three is big enough to have been used for a person to crawl through and might be able to be quickly widened to let in some men. My guess? The dogs and cats roaming around here dig the holes, especially the dogs as ’tis what they do, and Biddy occasionally widened and lengthened one for her own use or because it was one of the things Clyde was telling her to do. Then the other two lassies creeping in and out as they please started to do the same. So what ye get is a mess and one that doesnae go away because the ones doing it keep making new ones.”

“Wheesht, what are ye lads doing round here that is making those lassies dig their way out?” said Ned, laughing heartily as he put his arms over his head to protect himself from the empty tankards hurled at his head.

“Am I interrupting something?” asked Annys as she stepped into the great hall, fighting against the urge to laugh along with the men so thoroughly enjoying themselves.

“Nay, ’tis just Ned being a lackwit,” said Harcourt as he held out his hand in a silent invitation for her to join them.

“Actually, I found it quite witty,” said Nathan and he grinned.

“Did ye want something?” asked Harcourt when she sat down next to him.

“Sir Adam’s father has finally sent a letter with his long pondering decision in it,” she replied and placed the letter on the table in front of her.

“What has he said?”

“That I am a liar and a whore, my son is a bastard and no true get of David’s, and that Glencullaich belongs in MacQueen hands.”