Ruthless (32 page)

For the first time since her father died,
Muriele relaxed and let life sweep her on. She refused to think of
Magnus, and when she did, it was to picture him wed and walking
with his adoring bride clinging to his arm. Her hate for him grew
more each day.

Whenever the weather permitted, Feradoch took
her for rides along the shores of Loch Badenloch. For her safety,
he brought guards to ride ahead and behind them in case there was
any danger of lawless thieves. He wanted her to ride a magnificent
black mare sired by Thor, but Muriele had grown fond of Bolt and
insisted on riding the gelding.

The more at ease she became in Feradoch's
company, the tenser Esa appeared. When Muriele asked her friend if
she preferred she not accept his attentions, Esa's troubled eyes
looked as if she longed to impart something. She would hesitate and
say, "He is not all he seems."

Magnus had been gone near three sennights
before Feradoch passionately ventured a suggestion heartily
approved by Chief Olaf.

He took Muriele out into the moonlight and
they strolled amongst the birch trees and listened to the night
noises of owls, crickets and various creatures. They reached a
small stream where brilliant stars lit the sky above.

She felt the strength and the hard smoothness
of his muscular arm as they walked. He put his hand atop hers,
lightly caressing it. When he stopped, he gently grasped her
shoulders and turned her to face him. She drew back apace, for she
felt his body heat as he brushed against her.

"Dinna be alarmed, my love. I mean you no
harm."

"I am not afeared, my lord."

"I have talked with my father, and he is most
pleased about what I propose."

She parted her lips to speak, but he stopped
her.

"Shh, my love, wait to hear me out." He
cupped her left cheek as gently as a mother would her bairn's
head.

"Since the fall of Blackbriar, you have lost
your position, your castle and keep, villages and honors which
would have been passed to you as your dowry had Baldor died of
natural causes."

"I know only too well what I have lost,"
Muriele replied. Why did he feel it necessary to remind her of it?
She stiffened.

"It grieves me to mention it, but your having
been the plaything of my foster brother destroyed any chance of
your making a suitable marriage."

She jerked backward, pulling away. He
intended to take over Magnus' position as her lover? Never again
would she be any man's whore!

"Hear me out, sweet lady. From you face, I
see you misjudge my intentions."

A moonbeam shed light over his pale beauty,
showing kindness softened his face.

"We have no priest at Kinbrace and dinna
expect one until next summer." He hesitantly ran his fingers
through her hair then cupped her head with his big palms, tilting
her face up to look into her eyes.

"I have loved you from the first sennight you
came to the castle. Father regrets having so callously given you to
Magnus. 'Twas cruel of my brother to hide his coming betrothal when
he returned to Clibrick.

"What does...?"

He silenced her again, rubbing his thumb
across her soft lips.

"I care not that you have no lands or manors.
No coins or wealth to bring to a marriage. I propose a legal
handfast for a year and a day, or until the priest returns to
Kinbrace so we may repeat our wedding vows before God."

Muriele stared at him, struck dumb. He could
have any woman in the Highlands, yet he offered for her knowing she
had nothing to bring into a union?

While she was still stunned, he pulled her
into a soft, non-threatening embrace. When his beautiful face
lowered, his lips were soft and gentle as they moved over hers, and
then feathered light kisses on her cheeks, her forehead and neck.
He didn't venture for more intimacy but slowly released her and
awaited her reply.

When Magnus came to the rolling hills outside
Clibrick Castle, he and Sweyn paused at the same area Feradoch had
stopped to gloat over someday seizing the lands below.

The wind blew strong, heralding a gusty
rainstorm in late afternoon. He took deep breaths of the Scots
pines in the lush forest of Ben Clibrick behind the castle. Hearing
a faint sound, he glanced atop the foothill where the castle rose
facing the loch. A lone rider charged over the drawbridge, his
sword uplifted and waving in the air. Magnus broke into a grin
seeing long, black hair flying in the breeze. He kicked Odin to a
gallop, holding his shield but not bothering to draw his sword.

When near abreast, Graemme struck out with
the side of his sword, landing a clamoring blow on Magnus shield.
They both burst with laughter as they tussled until they fell off
their horses to land and roll together on the soft ground.

"Sir Sweyn! Save him. My master hasn't drawn
a weapon. The man will kill him as sure as my master loped off
heads to save me!"

"No worry, Gille. They won't hurt each other.
Much. Most likely a few bruises," Sweyn said dryly.

"But, but...!"

Hearing the distress in the young squire's
voice, Magnus held up his hand at Graemme.

"Hold, brother. The lad is newly in my
service and not used to anyone getting close to me."

Graemme's burnt-almond colored eyes searched
out Gille. When he saw the youth's red, worried face, Graemme's
eyes crinkled at the corner and his sensual lips lifted in a wide
grin.

"Did ye never have a brother to wrestle with,
lad?" Graemme leapt to his feet and ruffled Gille's hair. Turning
back to Magnus, he held out his hand. "Come, old man, I'll help ye
up."

"Heh! Best be careful else I'll toss ye into
the loch."

Graemme vaulted onto his horse at he same
time Magnus mounted.

"Come. Father is anxious for the truth of
what goes on at Kinbrace."

They started out at a gallop. By the time
they reached the castle, the other knights and their wives were
behind them. The only men who lagged were riding the small highland
horses pulling the carts.

The enthusiasm of everyone gathered to greet
him surprised Magnus when he slid off Odin. He'd spent very little
of his life at Clibrick. Feradoch was the one who grew up here, yet
they didn't seem to regret his leaving.

"Son!"

Chief Angus' tall form loomed in front of
him. His piercing brown eyes studied Magnus' face before he
enveloped him in a hug, which would have crushed the bones of a
lesser man.

After their greetings, Angus sent both his
man and Sweyn off on a needless errand.

That he held back on allowing anyone else in
his solar except Graemme surprised Magnus. What could be so
secretive he wished no one else to hear?

Angus waited as a servant pored each a pewter
goblet of chilled wine then nodded at him in dismissal. He and the
two brothers sat at a table overlooking the loch.

"I'm glad to have your return, son," Olaf
said as he held up his goblet in salute.

"Aye!" Graemme agreed. "And I dinna believe
for one heartbeat ye were so cruel Olaf wanted to rid himself of
ye."

Magnus near choked on his swallow of
wine.

"What? What foolishness are ye talking
about?"

Angus studied Magnus' face then frowned. "The
missive from Olaf requested, nae,
demanded
your return to
Clibrick. Feradoch delivered it."

"See, father! I told ye the man lied through
his teeth."

"Feradoch? Lie? What lie could he tell about
me?"

"Oh, at first he appeared reluctant to tell
us why his father wanted ye gone from Kinbrace," Graemme explained.
"Huh. He spilled it quickly enough after a few questions. He
claimed ye terrorized the villagers until they were so afeared of
ye they hid in their huts whenever ye rode close."

"Aye," Angus added. "He claimed not even Olaf
could control your savagery."

A sickening lurch spread through Magnus body
as he began to wonder what purpose Feradoch had for fabricating
such a lie. His voice was so low, both men had to lean close to
hear him.

"Did you write me a missive for Feradoch to
deliver?"

"Aye. I welcomed your returning home. Neither
Graemme nor I believed you had turned savage."

"You didn't send this particular summons to
me?" Magnus took the folded parchment out of his tunic pocket and
handed it to his father. "It was written by the hand of yer scribe,
the young priest."

Graemme rose and leaned over his father's
back as they read the words together.

"What!" They both exploded at one time.

"Where in the pits of Hell did he get such an
idea?" Angus stared at the writing. "It is Bruce's writing, for
sure, but none of it is true."

"Send for him to explain himself!" Magnus'
muscles tightened so tensely he felt he'd likely explode.

"Impossible." Angus shook his head, his eyes
sad with understanding.

"Why?"

"A guard found him dead late on the day
Feradoch left." Graemme swallowed. The muscles in his jaw twitched.
"We thought by his own hand. He clutched the bloody knife that slit
his throat."

"And old Father Anthony?"

"He passed on in his sleep several months
ago," Angus said.

"When last I was here, I thought he was
traveling through the villages doing his good work."

"I failed to mention it to you since your
stay was so short."

"Was Feradoch here at the time he died?"
Magnus felt bile rise up in his throat.

"Of course. He was on his knees all night in
the chapel. He prayed for God to take the old priest's soul
straight to heaven. Tears ran down his cheeks."

Magnus put his head in his hands, his elbows
on his knees.

"How could this be Feradoch's doing! Never
have we quarreled. He treated me as a true brother. He was even
jealous of you, Graemme."

"Yet before he returned, he made you sound
like you had run amuck for the past years, but he and Olaf didn't
want us to know of it," Chief Angus said.

"The only reason I can think of is he was so
jealous he wanted to be rid of you. To keep you away from Chief
Olaf."

Magnus could easily believe it. Feradoch
wanted his father to himself, and Magnus couldn't blame him. But,
Satan's balls! To murder a priest...perhaps
two
priests?

There were so many unanswered questions they
spent days going over them in their talks.

The castle ran smoothly with the transition
of Magnus to his father's first in command. There was no hint of
jealousy on Graemme's part.

He missed Muriele. More so with every night
that passed. His dreams were again plagued with making love to her.
Now when he was ready to release his seed, strong hands grabbed his
shoulders and tossed him across the room. He hit the stone wall and
crumpled. Somehow, someone tied him to a ring on the wall. He could
only watch as Feradoch crawled on all fours from the foot of the
bed and straddled Muriele to claim her. Instead of moans of
pleasure, she cried out in pain. He awoke in a sweat and paced the
rest of the night away.

He reasoned Feradoch kept to Esa and
dark-haired women with dusky skin whenever he was at Kinbrace.
Muriele's hair was much like sunshine filtered through the leaves
of a willow tree, and her skin was golden. Also, she was a strong
woman, one who would never attract Feradoch.

Magnus shook off his worries and decided
before the next day ended, he would send a spy to learn how Muriele
and Grunda fared.

The next day it dawned on Magnus that several
of the village girls working at the castle avoided talking to any
man. When night came, he pulled Graemme aside and they went up on
the keep to watch the moon streaming down on the loch.

"I've noted several women refuse to meet our
eyes."

"Aye. At least six of the prettiest stay away
from all men. Two have asked father if they may enter a nunnery. He
refused, saying they were not suited for God's work but for
breeding bairns. They ran, crying, and didn't ask again."

"I knew it was a lie!" Magnus struck a
clenched fist on a merlon, making small chunks of stone filter to
the ground.

"What was?" Graemme asked, sounding afeared
of hearing the answer.

"Feradoch accused me of branding women at
Kinbrace when in blood lust after battle. Supposedly, I used an
'eye' above their thatch of hair. The 'eye' would insure no man
would take them with it looking on."

Even in the gloom of the night, he saw his
brother's face lose its color. His eyes looked tragic as he slumped
against the wall and sat on the hard stone.

With a hitch in his muffled voice, he gave a
hint of his pain.

"It started with one girl I swived often. Of
a sudden, she refused to look me in the face or allow me close. She
only allowed Feradoch near. Time and time again, it happened and no
matter how I questioned them, no one would say a thing."

"Come morn, we'll speak with father about
this."

The next day they broke their fast in their
father's solar. They talked about the shame of what Feradoch had
done to the women. Angus said if they refused an offer of a goodly
sum and a chance to wed one of the men-at-arms, he was at a loss
how to help them.

Graemme offered the best solution.

"We will have the midwife talk to each of the
women. If they refuse a large dowry and marriage to a good man,
they may prefer a nunnery. If so, we will pay for their place
there. The church will be grateful for the dowries and the women
will be safe from scorn."

Magnus paced the room. He remembered Esa
never looked at another man and seemed reluctant to accept Feradoch
when he was there. He cringed, knowing the same had happened to the
beautiful Welsh woman.

He couldn't get Muriele out of his mind. If
he closed his eyes, she was there, her eyes pleading with him.
Feradoch had changed the most after she came into Magnus life.
Chill bumps traveled up his back. His scalp crawled with tension.
He sat down and began to talk to his father and brother about the
fall of Blackbriar and the woman who should have inherited it
all.