Spellbound (14 page)

29

The next morning Maighdlin rose, washed her face, arms and hands, and dressed. A full throttle of sunshine beamed raw through the window.

She
wouldn’t stay in
his
chamber and hide. Everyone would think the worst…that Kade had taken her truly and made her his wife in every way, punishing her with that “fierce MacAlister blade.”

She
quickly braided her hair and ate a crust of bread and some cheese that had been left on a tray beside the bed. Bravely, she opened the door and descended to the main hall, where she got curious stairs as she approached the kitchens, looking for Addie.

Servants
ran this way and that while the cook yelled orders. “Och, but this porridge is horrid! ‘Tis dry and lumpy as a bull’s rear end!”

Servants
stared at Maighdlin, but not for long. They got back to their chores. Addie entered from the side door, and Maighdlin felt a small measure of relief. Addie’s cheeks were flushed as she set pots down on the main table. Surprise flickered across her features, but only for an instant. “Yer looking well, Christel.”

“
Addie, I would know how Gordain is. Walk with me?”

Addie
glanced at the boisterous, overworked cook, but she was otherwise engaged in scolding a servant about the quality of a stew he was making. “It’s thick as a pile of baked dung!” she yelled. Then she dipped a ladle into the pot and put it to her lips. “And as tasty too! This’ll ne’er do! Ne’er do!”

Addie
nodded, and they left the kitchen.

They
found Gordain awake in his bed. “His color is much improved,” Maighdlin remarked. “Have ye been changing the cloth like I showed ye?”

Addie
nodded. Gordain looked at Maighdlin with curiosity. “Yer the one who treated my wound?”

Maighdlin
nodded. “I am.”

“
Thank ye for saving my life.”

“
I was glad I could help, truly.”

“
Yet yer here against yer own will,” he said, and coughed. Addie raised a cup of ale to his lips, and he swallowed. “And now I hear yer the laird’s wife.”

“
’Tis so,” Maighdlin replied.

“
Well, Christel, may ye know that no’ e’eryone here fears and hates ye. Ye have a friend in me and my auld Addie here.”

“
Who ye calling auld, auld man?”

“
Och, wife, when I am better, I will show ye who is no’ an auld man!”

Addie
blushed. The women soon left him to rest.

“
Addie, I would ask a small favor if I could,” Maighdlin said.

“
What is it?”

“
Could ye get word to my village that I am alright, that I suffer no’? I would be most grateful. I’ve been cut off from everyone I know. From my father. He was frail when I left. I would put him at ease if I could. I would know he lives.”

“
I know the blacksmith’s son Colin sometimes makes trips near yer village. I will speak to him and make sure he takes word to yer village. Who should he seek out?”

“
Addie, yer a good woman. He should seek out Erskina, an auld healer and my friend, if she yet lives. My father mostly taught me healing skills but Erskina showed me too, when we became friends. And Elliot, a young man, also a dear friend. They were my only friends. And my father, Haddon.”

Addie
looked at her curiously. “’Twill be done. But dunna speak of it, for I know no’ how Kade would react if he found out.”

“
Of course I willna speak a word of it. I just wish to put their hearts at ease.”

“
Aye, my lady.”

“
Where is Kade?” Maighdlin asked quietly.

“
He’s taken a force of men to Brodie MacKinnon’s keep.”

“
He will fight this day? The day after his wedding?”

“
I know no’ what he plans, but I fear there will be more lives lost. I dunna fear for Brodie’s men. I hope justice is swift, for Brodie’s men would’ve killed my Gordain. I hope his clan feels the mighty arm of the MacAlisters, for what auld Brodie’s clan did was unspeakable. If ye are indeed the seed of auld Brodie, I am sorry, my lady. But ye are nothing like him. Ye are kind and gentle, and if Kade could only see that. He…was he gentle last eve?”

“
Aye,” Maighdlin said, not willing to discuss how Kade had left her alone, disgusted because she was a MacKinnon. “Will he also march on my village?”

“
I dunna know. I hope no’, my lady. I hope no’.”

It
was only after Addie had walked away that Maighdlin realized Addie had called her “my lady.”

Maighdlin
sought the gardens, reveling in the fresh sea breeze upon her face. The sea was fairly calm, and glittered like the jewel in Fenalla’s necklace, though she knew at high tide the rocks at the base of the shore would be covered with frothy foam. Maighdlin would not wear the necklace; it was a symbol of all that stood between her and her husband.

She
cast her gaze in the direction of the chapel, which she knew stood somewhere to the south. She wondered if Niall’s spirit had found his peace, had crossed over. The news she’d given to Kade was not well received, as she’d expected. He did not want to believe his own brother would’ve betrayed him with his wife-to-be.

How
well had Kade known Fenalla? He was a young man when he’d boarded a longboat to Ireland, no doubt an impressionable, proud young man. It had been three long years they’d been separated. A person could change a lot in three years. And Fenalla had probably thought she would have only that time with Niall, for how could she defy her father’s wishes to marry Kade when he returned? And how would Kade be when he returned from three years of battle as a mercenary? A ruthless warrior? Would Fenalla have recognized him? Been afraid? Kade had planned to return regardless of his father’s wishes and banishment, sweep Fenalla off her feet, and marry her.

How
would it have been for Fenalla if she’d married Kade, and sat by his side in the great hall, always throwing longing glances at Niall?

It
was sad that Fenalla could not stand up to her father and marry the man she truly loved. Sad they both had their lives cut so tragically short.

Maighdlin
was angry. She wouldn’t sit and wait while more men were senselessly slaughtered! She knew not from whence it came, but a fierce desire to act burned in her breast. What was it that Kade had said? A person could shape, even change, the course of his or her own future?

It
was time she put it to the test. As the lady of the keep now, she would no doubt have a bit more freedom. She did not expect that Kade would allow the guards to relax their vigilance, however, and let her roam about the countryside as she pleased. But surely he would have given everyone some sort of guidance about how to treat her for the time being? After all, he wanted to be the one to exact his revenge upon her. To bed her and be done with her.

Perhaps
he planned to keep her here forever, a prisoner. A memory of all he abhorred.

Nay
Kade,
she thought,
‘twill no’ be so. No’ if I can help it.

Maighdlin
realized that the ache in her heart was not only due to the angry way he’d treated her. There was another side to Kade, another passionate, even gentle side he’d exposed to her, whether he meant to or not. The side that promised to care for Niall’s child Davina. The side that had stood up to Glendon and his cane. The side that had stood up to a cruel father and endured three years of savage fighting on foreign shores to win the hand of the woman he loved. She realized another feeling blazed in her heart, and she didn’t want to think about what it meant. For to dwell on it would make her miserable. It wasn’t possible. Could she be in love with him?

She
spun on her heel, made her way back inside the keep. She was determined to slip by the guards, determined to find auld Brodie’s keep and demand the truth, before Kade and his warriors attacked it. Was she Brodie’s daughter? Why had his clan practiced such deceit, and why had they slaughtered innocents in their sleep, innocents who had befriended the MacAlisters and been celebrating a long-lasting peace?

This
time she would not dress as a servant or a lady in any way, shape, or form. She would dress as a man, hide her hair beneath a cap, purposely begrime herself with dirt, and claim to be one of the servants charged with repairing the family chapel. She’d heard the servants talk of it.

Part
of the oblong, low roof had fallen in near a handsome, carved statue of stone—near an aumbry at the east end for the reservation of the communion bread and wine and a holy-water stoup in the walling at the other side. Both flanked the alter site. Maighdlin could not help but wonder if Niall had anything to do with the chapel needing repair, that it had been part of his plan somehow….for a chapel in need of repair would bring Kade closer to him.

The
roof would be fixed, and perhaps a wooden door provided to keep out dead leaves once autumn waned and departed. A small force of men who could not fight was charged with the repairs.

Maighdlin
had learned that the chapel was a place that Kade went at times to be alone. Scarcely comfortable, but comfort wasn’t what Kade sought. She thought maybe he warred with his own thoughts and feelings about Niall and Fenalla, despite what he’d said to her, that he did not believe what she’d told him.

It
was easier than Maighdlin thought to ride from the gate. She rode a shaggy garron in a group of servants that also sat astride sturdy ponies. Not a glance was cast in her direction. She had a hard time keeping the happy relief from her face.

She
was able to remain obscure at the chapel. The others did not speak to her or question who she was, for villagers often helped with repairs. She appeared to be one of them. They were excited as they began to work on the fallen roof. Most of the talk centered on Brodie and the battle that would surely take place that day.

From
their gossip, Maighdlin was able to get a sense of where auld Brodie’s keep would be found. Then they talked of
her
. “A fool he was to marry Christel MacKinnon, comely though she is. Some sort of
witch
they say….”

“
Witch or no’, I wouldna mind a go at her,” another said. “She’d be fine satisfied after my blade had been atween her legs!”

Maighdlin
did not wish to listen to any more talk. There wasn’t time. She found it easy to slip away into the woods on the garron. The beauty of it was that everyone at the keep would think she’d gone back to Kade’s chamber after visiting with Addie and Gordain, that she was too ashamed to show her face again after Kade had taken her to his bed.

She
thought of the two young boys, the brothers she’d watched train in the courtyard, so eager to fight. She didn’t want to imagine them cutting their way out of a swatch of older, more seasoned, vicious warriors. If they were caught in an open field, they would likely be slaughtered by men used to fighting hand-to-hand with Claymore and dirk. It was all so senseless.

She
spurred her garron on, having no weapons but her determination, intuition, and courage….

30

The garron she rode seemed used to climbing strenuous paths and hills, even those littered with fallen branches and thorns. She was a little champion.

Maighdlin
talked softly to the animal and patted her neck as she continued southward, around the skirts of a hill, where the river emerged from a pass. It was evident the men had been this way by the trampled ground.

It
was close to dusk when she stopped to water the garron and briefly sit upon a rock, which was still warm from the sun. The horsemen would be at a disadvantage on these slopes and narrow riverside levels. Had the men moved higher up the hillsides, as they headed east? Maighdlin soon resumed her travels, prodding the sturdy pony onward, driven by something she couldn’t name.

She
heard the fierce clash of weaponry before she saw it. She was too late! Men were fighting, the sounds of battle stretching out of sight around another bend of the glen. Brodie’s keep stood in the distance, its red stone defiant.

The
garron had felt her way south and east. The sky beyond the deep, green loch was growing dark, and a mist blew in, twisting around and obscuring the men in battle. Maighdlin thought of the boys, the men, of Kade, of all the joy and sadness wrapped in their complicated souls.

A
raven circled overhead, and a chill danced along her spine. The grey mist was like coastal spume, the kind that smashed against skerries and cliffs, spinning itself out over the shouting, warring men below who were involved in life-or-death struggles.

Into
the yelling turmoil she plunged the garron. Into rearing horses, flashing steel, tumbling bodies, men and horses already downed, men yielding and dodging lances and swords, stooping to slash upward with their dirks at the bellies of ill-fated horses—bringing down their riders.

It
was horrible to behold, horrible to hear, to smell, to breathe. Maighdlin’s garron was startled and she was unseated, hitting the ground hard. Gasping for breath, she tried to stand and slipped in the blood-watered grasses as the mist closed around her like a fist, but not before she’d spied a bow and quiver of arrows on the ground.

Pitiable
cries and moans rose around her. Wild shouts, too. Then an eerie quiet. As she stood on shaky legs, a huge, devil-black horse thundered from the mist, riderless, a sprig of Rowan in its saddle, coming straight at her…
Kade’s horse
. Her dream!
She was experiencing the vision she’d had!

Men
charged and fought all about her. The smell of blood was sharp in the air. A man as stout as a Highland bull stepped from the mist, swinging an ax. She grasped the bow and arrow, lost by some poor soul, in her fingers. Fortunately, it was well made.

Her
heart thundered as she nocked an arrow and drew the bow. All she seemed to hear was the sound of her own heart thumping, drowning out all other sounds. The mist cleared as she lowered the bow for a second, knowing she would shoot wildly unless she released the cord’s tension. She heard her friend Elliot’s words in her mind: “An archer doesna aim, an archer shoots to kill. ‘Tis no different than killing a deer or a hare for supper.”
Draw and loose. Draw and loose.

The
beastly man’s plaid was drenched in blood. She raised the bow.
Dunna think.
He lifted his ax above Kade’s still form, apparently wanting to make sure the clan leader was dead. There was a chance he yet lived. Maighdlin pushed her left hand forward and drew back with her right, and never took her eyes from the man.

She
drew until the cord was beside her right ear, and then she loosed. The bow did not quiver. The arrow flew and pierced the brute man’s heart. He went down, lifeless. Maighdlin rocked back on her heels, shaking.

But
another man appeared with an axe, also wanting to make sure Kade was dead. She had no more arrows! She watched helplessly. Then a small man shot from the shadows and planted his own axe deep in the man’s broad chest; he crashed down like a giant, felled oak.

She
heard the MacKinnon men call for retreat, followed by the terrible sounds of running, of men cut down while fleeing. The mist grew weak. She made her way to Kade, kneeling on the wet ground beside him, heedless to the swirl of weaponry and chaos about her.

She
looked up to find Ian embedding his sword in the back of yet another MacKinnon, who slumped to the ground as if his body possessed no bones. It seemed to happen so slowly, like time was compressed and then stretched out.

She
pressed her face close to Kade’s, felt his faint, warm breath on her face. Her hand on his chest, she felt the thud of his heart. Relief flooded her soul.
He was alive!

Ian
knelt beside her. “Is he alive?”

“
He is breathing,” she said.

The
small man who had also defended Kade stood nearby, his faced hooded.

“
Yer a brave one, lad, and good with an arrow,” Ian said. “What’s yer name?”

Maighdlin
had forgotten she was dressed as a young man. A mud-spattered young man. Amazed her cap had not dislodged in the fray, she pulled it off and tossed it aside. Her mane of fiery, auburn hair tumbled loose. “My name is Maighdlin, Ian, and it shall always be Maighdlin. Not
Christel.
”

Ian’s
mouth gaped. Maighdlin heard the quick intake of breath from the hooded man.

“
This man here,” Maighdlin said, “felled another who would’ve stuck an ax in Kade’s skull.”

“
Aye, I saw it.” Ian looked at the man. “Who are ye?”

“
A villager,” the man said.

“
Well done.”

“
Will he live?” the villager asked.

“
We’ll need to get him away from here to see about that,” Ian said, still staring at Maighdlin in awe.