Read Knight Everlasting Online

Authors: Jackie Ivie

Knight Everlasting (24 page)

BOOK: Knight Everlasting
10.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
“Black?” Juliana asked.
“Aye. Black. It suits the man's soul. Aidan's suits him as well.”
“What is Aidan?”
“Aidan is called the Red MacKetryck. For a reason.”
“Red?”
“The color of rage. Fury. Anger. He wears it well.”
Red...
Aye, Aidan did wear red well, Juliana decided. She watched as Lady Reina's one unveiled eye softened.
“He's a beast when challenged. Verra angry. Verra furious. 'Twas a great battle. Took half a day to fight, but he won. He wrested the castle and his birthright from Dugald.”
“When?”
“Near . . . seven years past.” Lady Reina frowned just slightly as if in pain.
“That would have made him younger than Alpin. How is that possible?”
Lady Reina smiled. “You ask the oddest things when you already have the answers.”
Juliana wrinkled her forehead. “I do?”
“Oh . . . aye. You do. But just look here. It's time for your rest.”
“Now?”
“You've time, and I'm na' quite finished with your attire. You doona' wish to shame me in front of Dugald MacKetryck and the household, do you?”
Juliana shook her head. She was beginning to see why Aidan had placed her in Lady Reina's care. The woman always got her way.
Chapter 19
Nothing killed it. Nothing silenced it, tempered it, or even made it waver. Nothing.
Aidan crawled onto Buchyn Loch's shoreline expending every bit of what strength he had left, and then lay there panting and heaving for breath, while his heart still beat ache through every part of him. He'd thought the worst heart pain had been burying his parents three months apart. Now he knew better.
He was sitting on his buttocks, with his arms wrapped about his lifted knees, awaiting the return of his men from the water. Not one had kept up with him. And rather than making them finish the swim across, Aidan had started back and turned them all back around. They probably thought it punishment. He'd gathered that from their groans as he'd passed them.
It should have exhausted him beyond all reason, taking any want for pondering and thinking away. Physical challenge had always worked before. The sense of death and the thrill of cheating it always left him with a heart-pounding newness of spirit. Now all each heartbeat brought him was pain. Unmitigated. Massive. Increasing. The water blurred before him, and Aidan blinked rapidly to still it. He had to. He wasn't in the water anymore. He hadn't donned his plaid yet. There was no way to hide anymore.
He knew what he had to do. He knew he had to do it quickly, before anyone could dissent, or argue, or change it. And discover how much it cost. And before the hurt encompassed everything and made him sacrifice the very thing he'd nearly died for. He'd known when he gained the title of laird of Clan MacKetryck that it came with responsibility. Great responsibility. And it came with great honor . . . centuries of clan honor . . . that he'd sworn to uphold.
At all costs.
He blinked more. The view cleared. Blurred. Aidan kept blinking, shuddering through another breath that burned. Blinked again. Tavish was the first to join him, lying flat out on his belly, in a lean eel shape, and breathing hard enough to displace earth.
“Where's Heck?” Aidan asked.
Tavish pointed backward. Aidan grunted. Watched the loch surface glint with fading sun as it blurred again. He blinked again. Rapidly. Tightened his arms about his knees and breathed as shallowly as possible before bowing his forehead and shuddering until the dirt beneath him cleared enough that he could go back to looking out at the loch and waiting for his men without anyone being the wiser.
Nothing killed it. Nothing even muted it.
Heck was the next to crawl out of the water. Tavish had gained his breath back, although he was still stretched out, putting a lean frame on display that could use not only more meat to it, but more sun. Aidan nodded at Heck.
“Where's Stefan?”
Heck did the same motion Tavish had, pointing back out to the water. Aidan grunted and went back to watching. Blinking. Watching the lines delineating water from land from sky blur and mesh. Blinking faster. Breathing shallowly and evenly and with a modulated rhythm that was vicious with inflexibility.
Kerr pulled himself out next, although he just lay there, half in and half out of the water.
“Go fetch him,” Aidan told Tavish.
The man rolled, did a somersault motion, gripped Kerr's arms, and without looking like he expended any strength, hauled the rest of him onto shore. Then he crawled back to sit beside Aidan and look out over the same view.
“You want to tell us what this is all about?” he asked.
“I'll be . . . useless to the lasses . . . thanks to this.”
Kerr panted the words from just beyond Aidan's feet. He dropped a glance to him and then looked back to the waves.
Heck snorted. “You're always useless, lad,” he replied.
“When I get some strength back, you'll regret those words, Heck Blaine.”
“Ooh. I'm shaking here,” Heck replied.
Kerr was straightening and attempting a push-up. He decided it was easier to flop back on shore, however, and did it, making a groan of sound at the effort. Aidan's lips lifted slightly at the man. Stefan was next from the waves, crawling amid churning water and huffing breath and cursing soundly at Ewan, who was right with him.
“There! I've won . . . whelp! And you'll . . . pay up. Soundly.” The words might have sounded more threatening if they hadn't been panted amid gulps for breath. It would also have helped if Ewan wasn't churning earth with pumps of his arms before collapsing a half-length farther than Stefan.
“Tie! 'Twas . . . a . . . tie!”
“Now wait here. If anyone wins, 'tis me. I was first,” Tavish announced, getting to his knees.
“The laird was first,” Heck replied. “And he went clean across and back.”
“Aidan's part fish. He does na' count,” Tavish replied.
Aidan barely heard it through what he recognized as more ache. His heart just kept sending it. He blinked again and turned back to the waves. Cleared his throat to make certain the emotion stayed hidden. “Where's Gregor?” he asked.
They all pointed out at the water. Even the two who'd fresh come from the swim. Aidan squinted and could just make out the head of his last man, bobbing about without any sign of swimming. He looked more to be floating on his back. “Go fetch him, Tavish,” he ordered.
“He'll have my skin if I mount a rescue.”
“And I'll take it if you don't,” Aidan replied.
Tavish grinned. “True,” he replied, and walked back to the water before putting lean white buttocks into the air in a dive.
“You want to tell us what this is about yet?” Heck asked at his side.
Aidan looked sidelong at his senior honor guardsman and then looked back out to where Tavish had reached Gregor. From the looks of it, there was a challenge getting made and another race started. It was all well and good. Entertaining. Almost took his mind off what he had to do. But nothing stopped the reminders coming with each beat of his heart. Aidan blinked on the sight of churning water where the two competitors were. And then sighed heavily.
“Fetch Alpin,” he replied. “Get him to his rooms. I'll meet with him there.”
“He's na' in his rooms already? Perchance . . . with a wench or two?” Kerr asked.
Aidan kept the wince inside, but kept his attention on the swimmers nearing shore. “He's guarding my chambers,” he replied.
“Oh,” Kerr replied.
“Can I don my plaid first?” Heck asked.
Kerr spoke up. “As little as you possess a-tween your legs, it'd be a pure shame na' to.”
“You'll be regretting every word, MacGorrick. Every single one.” Heck was tossing his sett atop his shoulder and wrapping it as he spoke.
“Just name the place. And time, my man.”
“In the hour,” Aidan said. “At the list. With poles.”
“The hour?” someone asked.
“Aidan! We've but caught our breath from this torture and you want more?” Kerr complained.
“Aye. I want more. So much, I will na' be able to stand! You ken?” Aidan snarled it and blinked more cursed moisture out of his eyes. Nobody said anything for long enough he could feel the burn of more than twelve heartbeats. Then Heck spoke up.
“Right. I go to fetch Alpin. The rest of you? Get your carcasses to Alpin's rooms with the laird.”
 
 
They made a solemn group, following him with only their weapons and boots evidencing their passage through the halls. Aidan took in the bustle happening in the great hall before shoving his way through all the people there. He was midway before he stopped, looked about him, and glared.
“They're preparing, Aidan,” Heck informed him. “For your fest. To celebrate. As you ordered.”
Fest.
To celebrate. He'd been rash. Reckless. Again. There was nothing worth celebrating. Aidan returned his gaze to the archway at the end, where torches replaced the faded daylight that normally lit the spiral stair to Alpin's chambers . . . the same chambers he'd claimed until winning the position of laird from the Black MacKetryck. Aidan set his features into a blank look, kept blinking away the emotion his body cursed him with, and preceded the group to the stairwell. He hadn't made it before his way was blocked by Lachlan MacGorrick, in another effeminate robe of green samite this time, with silver embroidery encircling the hem and sleeves and even the neckline, where it managed to peek through all the ruffling the man had on his shirt.
“My laird?” Lachlan announced.
“Someone remove this buffoon from my path.” Aidan turned his head away in a dismissive gesture.
“Move, buffoon!” Kerr announced.
“Hush, cousin, I've come on an errand of Dugald MacKetryck.”
“I ceased being your cousin when you swore off manly attire, Lachlan MacGorrick,” Kerr replied.
Aidan sighed heavily. He hadn't managed to evade his responsibility yet. He didn't know why he still tried. “What is the message, Lachlan?”
“Your uncle regrets that you'll na' come to him. He would rather this was done in private.”
Aidan rolled his head on his shoulders, listening for the cracking sound that released pressure through his neck. He turned back to Lachlan, lowered his chin, and narrowed his eyes.
“The message, Lachlan,” he said.
“Here.”
The man pulled a piece of parchment from somewhere in the folds of his robe. At one time, it had probably been rolled and sealed with a family crest. Now, it was looking creased and worn and folded several times. Aidan regarded it with as much interest as he had everything since leaving Dame Lileth Fallaine-Dumphat's chamber.
“What is that, Lachlan?” he asked.
“The Campbell clan's missive. You must answer it.”
“I am na' reading that now.” Aidan's voice didn't sound like him. His men must have recognized it, for he could feel them closing about him, although none made any sound.
“But you have to! They expect—”
“I am na' answering it now!” Aidan's voice cracked. He couldn't help it. That was when he knew the full power of this love thing as his sense of honor and duty wavered. He wasn't dealing with the message now, because if he did, it would all be real. He'd have to give her hand to Alpin in wedlock. He'd have to stand by and watch the woman who held his heart given to his brother. He'd have to live through the hours of their consummation. He'd have to survive the growing girth of his son within her . . . and then he'd have to survive the bairn's birth . . . with Alpin as the sire.
Aidan looked to the ceiling of his great room, and struggled for control over the onslaught of what could only be tears. If it killed him, he was gaining control of this cursed reaction, and he was doing it now. He reached for the purple amulet tucked in his sporran and had it in his grasp while the silent prayer winged upward. That was when a red wash of color started permeating the space between the arches above him. He sucked in a huge breath with the thanks, brought his head back down, and glared at Lachlan with an expression of hatred and revulsion and anger that had the man stepping back.
“Give me the message.”
His voice matched his expression, and he watched Lachlan gulp as he heard it. The paper in the man's outstretched hand shook.
Aidan reached to his belt and pulled out a dirk. Lachlan's eyes went wide. He snatched his hand back at the same moment Aidan speared the paper with his blade. Then Aidan spun and flung the knife up and across the room and into one of the wooden arches supporting the floor above. They all heard the hard thud as it hit. And stayed.
“There. I answered it,” he informed the man, who was opening and closing his mouth without making any sound.
“But, my laird—”
“Now, will someone move this buffoon?” Aidan interrupted, and lowered his head and chest, preparatory to shoving past him. Lachlan must have sensed it, for he retreated. Hastily.
BOOK: Knight Everlasting
10.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Honey Trap by Lana Citron
Dark Mercy by Rebecca Lyndon
The Pull of the Moon by Elizabeth Berg
Painkillers by Simon Ings
Son of Ra by Cyndi Goodgame
The Rolling Stones by Robert A Heinlein
All the Devil's Creatures by Barnett, J.D.
Empire by Orson Scott Card
Only You by Cheryl Holt