Surrender (16 page)

"Broccin's beloved daughter Elyne was near as
nekid as I."

"Aha! Why didn't you both hurry and
dress?"

"Because by the time I caught my breath,
Chief Broccin's bare feet were on either side of my head…."

Laughter rippled throughout the room as the
story passed from one ear to another.

Graemme gave a good-natured shrug.

"Why didna ye tell me ye were betrothed?"

"In the midst of yer debating whether to
marry Muriele and tell the Gunns they could take their tarnished
vows straight to Hell?" He shook his head. "Nay. I could not
distract yer dimwitted mind while pondering yer decision."

"Nothing is to stop ye now." Magnus sprawled
out in his chair and studied his brother. He nodded and said,
"Grunda."

"What about Grunda?"

"She must go with ye." Magnus straightened up
and leaned his arms on the table in front of him. "If anyone can
help ye with her visions, she can."

"Grunda has already demanded I take her. The
girl is lively, but I had to make her vow not to poison me
again."

"Again!"

"'Tis best forgotten," Grunda's eerie voice
said behind him.

"Then mayhap ye'd like to be my taster?"
Graemme hooked his brow at her and grinned.

"She'll not do it again." Grunda had a far
away look in her eyes, as if watching something no one else could
see. "We had best make haste afore she throws any delays in the
way."

"When is the wedding to take place? My
brother canna wed without me."

"In three sennights. I should arrive a
sennight before the ceremony." He gave Magnus an accusatory glare.
"If I'm late for my own wedding, I fully plan to blame ye."

"I'm going with ye. Sweyn will escort the
women at a slower pace."

Elyne slept well for the next several nights
and everyone began to relax. Broccin decided he had finally talked
sense into the girl. Aunt Joneta thought it safe to sleep in her
own bed, but propped her door open to listen in case Elyne needed
her.

One rainy day, Elyne told her aunt she wanted
to sleep in a little longer and stayed abed. While Lady Joneta told
the servants to leave Elyne alone until she caught up on her rest,
Elyne busily searched through her clothing chest for garments of
brown and greens. Colors nigh impossible to spot in the forest.

The trickiest part was keeping Squat from
pulling the bundle out from under the bed as soon as Elyne shoved
it there. Finally, she picked him up, closed the door firmly behind
them and went down to the stables.

While she whispered and talked to her
favorite mount whose hair matched the deep brown of Elyne's eyes,
she casually made sure all she would need for the horse was stored
neatly under a stack of hay within the stall.

From the time she could walk, she had
screamed if anyone tried to make her ride in a cart. She'd insisted
on riding a pony like her brothers and cousin when they were
younglings. She had snorted, most unladylike, when potential
suitors arched their brows at her riding astride with her slit
skirts. She secretly took pleasure in shaming them by her greater
ability. She regretted she'd not had time to prove to Sir Graemme
she could outride many men.

Early in the afternoon, Chief Broccin thought
she had come to her senses when she didn't scream and object to the
seamstresses fitting her bridal outfit for the last touches. 'Twas
a beautiful garment, one she'd have enjoyed wearing to a wedding or
a banquet—as long as it wasna her own celebration.

The seamstresses used a sheer silver material
for the outer tunic, while beneath was a deeper, shimmering gray.
They lined the bodice and upper arms to the elbows with the same
matching gray material. The sheer silver covered from the elbows
down, with flowing sleeves floating wide and free. An embroidered,
beautiful deep green trim surrounded the bodice edges. A belt and
matching veil with a shiny, silver circlet topped it off.

'Twas an elegant gown. One made with loving
hands to welcome a joyous marriage.

She felt a pang of regret when she took it
off and the women carefully folded it. Its splendor looked lost
lying atop the other new garments they had made for her to wear at
her new home.

Elyne took special pains when she dressed for
the evening meal. She was especially courteous to Aunt Joneta and
her father, and pampered Squat by giving him the juiciest pieces of
meat on her trencher.

She felt like she was seeing the great hall
for the last time. Her chest hurt when she looked up at the family
banners hanging from a rafter. The Chief's black banner with a
yellow eagle at its center, its talons spread for the kill took the
center spot. Her brothers had shared a banner. 'Twas made to
picture a sunny yellow field with two black eagles flying, a red
bar dividing them. Moridac had ordered the red bar sewn between
them when he believed Ranald had died of his injuries. On the other
side of Broccin's was her cousin Raik's, Aunt Joneta's son. A
yellow gryphon on a field of red, its beak stretched wide as if
screeching. All fitted a castle called Raptor.

Banners hanging from other rafters belonged
to either relatives related by marriage or the knights themselves
who came from high-ranking families in the Highlands. On the
morrow, they planned to make room for Graemme's wolf banner to fly
between her cousin's and her father's. The idea of looking up and
always seeing the stalking wolf above her head made her cringe.

No fear of that. She would be long gone by
sunlight. They'd never think to look at Mary Magdalen for her. Not
after she'd made such a scene when her father had threatened to
have her placed in a convent after she'd balked at wedding Sir
Graemme.

She blinked to keep tears from forming. Why,
she never cried! Not even when she'd had her bottom strapped for
trying to make her way to Kelso. She'd wanted to see for herself
her dear Ranald no longer lived. A lot of good it had done her to
try, for she had never made it past the last village before Domnall
had caught her up on his warhorse and returned her to her father's
wrath.

She had to fight herself to go to bed after
darkness fell. Her stomach was queasy thinking on what she planned
to do. Why, she might never see her home again! She swallowed a
lump in her throat and quickly kissed her father's cheek when he
ordered her to bed. With Squat following close behind, she went to
her bedchamber. In case Aunt Joneta decided to sleep with her, she
put a small potion in the watered wine beside the table.

Nibbling on her fingers, she hugged Squat in
her lap and fed him a tiny portion of wine-soaked bread. Soon, his
snores assured her he was sleeping heavily. She climbed into bed
and knew she had time for a good nap before the castle guards would
be lulled into their normal routine. Raptor guards were more
efficient than any neighboring castles, for when Ranald had
returned, he made sure they were the best trained in the Highlands.
She'd have no easy time leaving by the postern gate. She'd studied
their pattern and knew it was possible in the short space of a few
breaths when their backs would be to each other before they turned
at the corner turrets.

Elyne had picked a good night, for clouds
filled the sky. She put Squat on the bed, his head on her pillow
and felt his reassuring breath on her cheek when she kissed between
his eyes. She would miss and worry about the little strange dog.
Surely, Aunt Joneta would see he came to no harm.

In the darkest hours of the night, she slid
out of bed, shivering as her bare feet met the cold floor. Where
were her shoes she had carefully placed so she could slide into
them? Ah. She knew. Soft snores lead her to kneel and swipe her
hand across the floor beneath the bed.

"Got ye, little thief," she whispered.

Squat was sleeping comfortably atop her
bundle of clothes with his head resting on one shoe. She tugged the
culprit and her belongings from their hiding place. Holding the
still snoring offender close to her chest, she put his head back on
her pillow and brought the still-warm covers close around his body.
He opened one eye, scowled at her, and then licked his lips and
went back to sleep.

Finally clothed and with her shoes on, she
tossed her cloak around her shoulders and stole from the room.
Walking close to the wall where her footsteps were the quietest, it
took her longer than usual to descend to the great hall and make
her way through the pallets filled with snoring, farting and
grunting men.

It was much easier than she thought. And also
much harder. Easy to gather her belongings and her horse, and make
her way slowly in the shadows until free of the castle grounds out
into the forest beyond. But, oh, so much harder to glance over her
shoulder and see the fortress looming against the sky!

Her home. The only one she'd ever known.
Though Broccin was a harsh father, she fought the lump rising in
her chest. Her leaving should be on her wedding day, a happy
occasion. Instead, she hated Graemme for forcing her to flee.

She wasn't suited for convent living. In a
few days, she'd be sure to cause some terrible commotion. If the
kitchen help and cooks weren't doing their job, or the laundress
didn't know the proper way to get stains out of clothing, she'd
likely lose her temper and insist on changing their procedures.

Not to mention her need for physical labor.
The thought of being on her knees and praying all day near made her
turn back. And men? Regardless of what her father thought, she
didn't spy on them for thrills. She envied their flawless bodies.
Their muscles and bones which enabled them to do all the things she
couldn't. No matter how hard she pulled the strings of a bow, she
couldn't fly an arrow as far as Ranald or their cousin. Aye, she
could hold her own with most men, but she wanted more than equal
strength.

She refused to think of what this
more
was. At the thought of Graemme's impressive
cockstand, she gritted her teeth. His lovemaking had been all she'd
dreamed a man could do.

Until he ruined it by making her feel like a
whore.

She shrugged off the thought. She must have
done something right to have given him such pleasure. If she
hadn't, he'd have known she was a virgin without a maidenhead to
prove it.

Every step of the way, she imagined she heard
horses pursuing her. She slept only when she could not see or when
her horse needed rest. She had no trouble finding the convent, for
she'd been with Muriele and Ranald's wife, Catalin, when they'd
sought sanctuary there. 'Twas when Catalin had clung to Elyne's
waist as Elyne urged the horse across the valley riding like the
devil pursued them.

He had been.

If Muriele had not urged the two women on and
slowed her own mount, the lout would not have had a chance to grab
her friend's long hair. She'd backhanded her knife and slit his
throat, but his foot caught in the stirrup. The horse had galloped
on. Her tresses, tangled and caught in the dead man's glove, held
her prisoner. Muriele had managed to hack through her hair in time
to free herself.

Once Muriele healed from her ordeal, Elyne
and Ranald's wife had cropped her hair so it would be even when it
grew back.

The convent looked familiar in the early
morning light. Halfway across the clearing, she saw the gate swing
open. Two people stood there, shading their eyes from the sun,
anxiously scanning the area behind her.

Her heart did an extra beat as she turned to
look, afeared her father or Graemme was charging down the
mountainside after her.

Once she rode through the gateway, she
breathed a sigh of relief.

"Is there no one traveling with you, Elyne of
Raptor? Chief Broccin or your brother Ranald?" The Mother Cecelia
asked quietly as Elyne slowly dismounted.

She was bone weary and stiff from riding more
in these past days than at any time in her life.

"Nay. I come alone.

"No one pursues you with an army as they did
afore?"

The woman's eyes looked doubtful she would
travel for three days without an escort. Any time Elyne had showed
up at the convent, chaos followed.

Her gaze roamed over Elyne, taking in her
soiled clothing and matted hair. Elyne put one foot behind her and
tried to swipe off the dust with the back of her skirt. She wished
she'd taken time to bathe in a stream this morn. With the surprised
looks from everyone as they looked her over, she knew she must have
dirt smudged from hairline to chin. Looking down at her hands, she
decided she'd best put them behind her back.

"Come, we will talk as we go to the
dormitory." She motioned with her hand for Elyne to walk beside
her. She also cleared her throat, reminding Elyne she had not
answered.

"Pursue? Not as yet. They will not expect to
search for me here."

"They?"

"A barbaric Highlander who forced a betrothal
on me."

"And? There is more to it than this, I
believe."

"My father, perchance. Though he may be
pleased I came here, since he threatened me with the Convent if I
didna marry Graemme of Clibrick Castle."

"Ah. 'Tis wedding this Graemme that causes
you to run away. Is there anyone else who may threaten the peace of
the Convent?"

"My brother Ranald. But he would not cause
anyone unease."

"I cannot help but ask if this has to do with
your
unusual
dreams?" When Elyne didn't answer right away,
she continued. "Once you have bathed and are properly attired,
Brother Hugo from Kelso Abbey will give you guidance. He arrived
yesterday and is very learned. He came to Kelso as a wounded
Crusader who wanted nothing more to do with killing. He had meant
to leave tomorrow, but I'm sure he will be pleased to counsel
you."

Elyne gulped, knowing she would get little
sleep this night. "I dinna think the good Brother should delay his
travels on my account." She crossed her fingers and sent up a quick
prayer for forgiveness before she lied to this good woman. "I
haven't had troubling dreams in a long time. Since I left here with
Catalin and Ranald, they seem to have disappeared."