Surrender (24 page)

"Afore I came to the stables, I asked for
bread and cheese to take with us. The stable boys knew to ready the
horses for an early leave-taking. My men are already waiting near
the front gate," Graemme said. He did not even look at her.

"But we must thank the good sisters for the
night's lodgings." Magnus' gaze traveled from his brother to her
face. "Ye dinna have other clothing with ye?"

"I have a bundle hidden in the stall with my
horse." She cleared her throat. "Mother Cecelia's solar is in the
main building."

"We know. We were there yesterday," Graemme's
cold voice reminded her.

What was the matter with Magnus? He seemed to
sway a little as he walked. Then she realized why when she looked
down at his feet. Squat had clamped on the man's boot strings and
tugged for all his might. Each forward step of his right foot, he
shuffled with it low to the ground so as not to hurt the dog.

"This will take all day if ye dinna let me
walk, dog."

Magnus bent down and gently pried his mouth
open. On his way up with the dog in his hands, Squat filled his
mouth again with the hem of Magnus' kilt. Magnus casually brushed
his clothing down to cover himself.

Elyne averted her eyes, but not before she
noted the brothers resembled each other in more ways than she would
have expected. Men's body parts were not new to her. She'd seen
more of them than most young women from her vantage point in the
window opening at Raptor.

Graemme glared at her as if she'd been the
one to bare his brother's treasures.

They found Mother Cecelia in the courtyard
saying goodbye to two monks headed for Kelso. Elyne cringed when
she saw a tall monk wearing a fresh robe with a piece of straw
caught in the hem. If he knew he wore a robe sullied by bed sport,
no doubt he'd have stripped naked on the spot! She breathed a sigh
of relief when he mounted his mule and left through the open
gate.

Elyne was next in line to say her
farewells.

"Mother Cecelia, I thank ye for yer comfort
and protection."

"Child, it is always an exciting diversion
when you spend time with us."

The good Mother put her arms around Elyne and
hugged her. Drawing back a bit, she studied Elyne's face.

"You are reconciled the Morgan brothers mean
you no harm?"

"Aye. I suppose I must wed some time, and Sir
Graemme is less disgusting than old Baron Hadley with his warty
nose!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see
Graemme stiffen with displeasure at her opinion of him.

"Far less disgusting!" Mother Cecelia burst
out laughing and hugged her one last time.

The brothers gave their formal thanks and
hurried her away.

Afore she knew it, they were in the stables.
The stable boys had already readied the three horses and even had
Elyne's bundle of clothing tied to her saddle. Graemme gave the two
boys each a coin for their efforts.

She took the reins to her horse and led him
outside to a mounting block by the horse trough. Her horse stopped
for a long drink and sprayed water as he lapped. Far too soon, it
was time to mount. Intending to mount by herself, she jumped when
strong hands wrapped around her waist and effortlessly lifted her
to the saddle. He frowned when she swung her right leg over the
horse's back so she could ride astride.

"Chief Broccin allows ye to ride thus? 'Tis
most unwomanly." Graemme's lips pressed together.

"Ye didna object to Muriele skill at riding,
did ye?"

She directed her question to Magnus, who
grinned. The man was forever surprising her. He looked so stern and
quiet, like he was about to rail at someone for some minor mistake,
and then he broke out in a broad smile.

"'Tis why she eluded me so easily. I didna
expect her to be so adept at riding, much less at the hunt."

He looked at his brother, obvious pride in
his voice. "She once speared a boar intent on ripping me a new, uh,
new opening in my back."

"How did ye take her saving yer arse?"
Graemme's eyes watched Magnus' face.

"I had her seized by my men for stealing a
boar spear from my squire. I thought she meant to deprive me of my
guts. My foster father Olaf named her the best hunter of the day. I
felt like a fool!"

Graemme laughed for the first time that
day.

"Ye dinna know shame until ye get a nasty
dose from yer bride."

His lips thinned to a white line. Shoving her
foot into the stirrup, he adjusted the straps. He was none too
gentle or smooth; his movements were hard and jerky. He had to be
thinking about the humiliation of everyone knowing he couldn't walk
for a whole day because he couldn't be away from a bucket. Had it
not been for Aunt Joneta, he and Squat would still be heaving and
spreading shite all over the castle grounds!

She felt some shame for doing such a thing to
any person, but if she had her life to relive at this point, she'd
do it again. But first, she'd make sure she locked Squat in her
room.

"We should be ready to leave. Thank you,
Brother Octavius, for your vigilance over my bride when she
came."

"'Twas an honor to aid Brother Ranald's
sister."

He turned a steely glare on Magnus. "It will
be some time afore I forgive yer making an arse out of me and
stealing the Lady Muriele from under my nose!"

Magnus nodded solemnly at him. "I would feel
the same if it were done to me."

"Be watchful for brigands. Many homeless
people prey on travelers."

"Aye," Magnus said as he put his foot in the
stirrup and swung up into his saddle.

Bryan and Colyne fell in line behind him, the
rest of the men followed. Graemme walked over, picked up Squat and
handed Colyne the dog.

"Dinna forget to pay heed when he starts to
squirm, else ye'll find a yellow stream travelin' down yer
leg."

Colyne tucked Squat against his chest beneath
the kilt draped over his shoulder and around to his belt in
back.

Graemme mounted and nodded to the guard to
lift the bars that secured the gate at dusk. The courtyard was busy
with visitors continuing their journey after stopping for the
night. Elyne's gaze searched out the good sisters and Mother
Cecelia and waved to them. A lump formed in her throat. Likely, she
would not see them again.

Before she had more time to think about it,
Graemme led them out with a fast walk. When they were far enough
from the gate, he urged his horse to gallop across the open fields.
It would be slow going when they reached the hills on the opposite
side. She rode behind him while Magnus followed her to see she
didn't stray.

"We could have broken our fast afore we
left," she grumbled. Her stomach was putting out its protest in
growls worthy of Squat.

"When we get to the woods, we'll stop and
divide up the bread and cheese," Graemme called back to her.

"How kind of ye," she said, lifting her nose
in the air.

"We need to make as many leagues today as we
can. I don't want to spend more than two nights in the woods."

Graemme's words were sharp and impatient.

They started to canter the horses for they
were near up to the woodland path. Once they reached there, she
started to shiver. The weather was gloomy to begin with, but
surrounded by damp woods was not pleasant. The trees still held
water from the light rain during the night. She felt a drop in her
hair and wished she'd unbundled her cloak so she could pull its
hood up.

True to his words, Graemme pulled over to the
side, hurriedly dismounted and untied the bundle of food. He tore
off hunks of bread and passed to her and Magnus. Cutting the cheese
with the knife secured to his sword belt took a little longer. Her
mouth salivated smelling the fresh bread. She put the food on her
saddle between her legs so it wouldn't fall off. Looking around,
she saw the sisters had given the rest of the men small bundles of
food before they left.

She untied the bundle of clothing from behind
her saddle and shook out her cloak. Surprisingly, Graemme pulled
his horse alongside hers and helped spread it across her shoulders.
While she tied the ribbons at her neck, he spread the heavy wool
over the horse's haunches to keep the material from flapping around
the animal's legs and spooking it.

Elyne nodded her thanks, but when she reached
to take the reins into her hands, he kept her from it.

"Nay. I will lead the horse," he said.

"I'm not helpless. I can feed myself and ride
too!"

"I prefer leading yer horse to plunging
through the woods pursuing ye!"

She huffed and pulled hard. He didn't let
go.

"Goat dung," she muttered under her
breath.

He quirked his brow at her, defying her to
elaborate further on what she thought of him. She shoved bread into
her mouth to keep from yelling her opinion of him.

"It doesna matter what ye think of me. Ours
is not a marriage of the heart." He snorted and shook his head.
"'Tis a marriage of the sword. Likely Chief Broccin will have one
trained on my back until the vows are done."

"If ye both would stop yer quibbling, we
would be closer to our destination," Magnus said.

He put his food in the pocket of his cloak,
but not before tearing off a small piece of bread and moving close
to Colyne to give it to the drooling dog.

"Ye should have been a wolf! Ye near bit my
fingers, ye ungrateful wretch."

Though his words were harsh, his tone was
mellow. They began again, though her horse lurched a bit, unused to
the rider not controlling the reins. Once its gait smoothed out,
she found it was quite easy to nibble on her food and keep it from
falling to the ground.

She huffed as she ate. So, he was afeared
she'd take off through the woods, was he? Since she didn't have to
pay attention to where they were going, she was free to look at the
woods and the creatures living there. 'Twould be good eating
tonight, for hares seemed to be everywhere, jumping around and
showing off for their females.

True to her thoughts, when the sun started to
wane, Magnus took up his bow and arrow. Soon after, he and several
warriors had hares thrown across their horses' rumps and secured to
the back of their saddles.

She was grateful they'd had at least one stop
to refresh themselves. Her churlish husband-to-be didn't allow her
much privacy. He had Magnus stand to one side of where she went
into the bushes and he stayed close to her on the other.

When she'd stepped on a twig, he was there so
quickly he couldn't have been but an arms-breadth away.

"What are ye doing, woman!"

"Turn yer back, ye disgusting piece of sheep
dung! Cannot ye see I'm trying to keep my skirts unsullied?"

The eejit looked her over as if she was some
strange creature. She flushed so hot she wished for a cold cloth to
soothe her face. She thought she had felt shame when Magnus came
upon them in the stall, but this was far worse. Later she could
have used another break, but she decided to hold off until they
stopped for the night.

The men had no trouble, though. When Magnus
pulled off behind them to relieve himself, they kept going forward
and he rejoined them. When Graemme needed to piss, he passed her
reins to his brother and did the same. Being a man had its
advantages. Many of them! She started ticking them off on her
fingers.

They had no need to squat behind a bush. They
stood and peed against a tree like the tree welcomed water!

They had control over their lives. Even the
old, gaseous and toothless man could bring a young bride to his bed
with little effort. Fathers thought nothing of how the young girl
would suffer when a smelly old man had the right to stake his claim
on her any night as often as he liked.

They seemed to answer to no one once they
reached a certain age, which was quite young to her thinking. Of
course, she wasn't thinking of squires and lower knights, grooms or
any such.

She was thinking of men like the two
brothers. Once they decided a woman should be their bride, the
selfish churls didn't once think of what she desired.

To pass the time, she tried to picture men
and how they'd be in similar circumstances.

She grinned and pictured Graemme as he laid
in all his naked glory under a crisp, white sheet. In came an old
woman with wrinkles on her face, a pot belly from having borne six
children. She had knobby knees and missed having more than one
tooth. Oh! And her hair was so thin and straggly it left bare spots
where her scalp reflected the candlelight.

She wondered if they could make their
precious treasures stand and pay attention. She giggled at the
thought of the old woman throwing back the covers to feast her eyes
on his hard-muscled body. Would she fall into a rage when she saw
he didn't have a cockstand?

No doubt, his shaft would shrivel up until it
hid itself in Graemme's flesh when the old crone put her lips to
it.

"What has ye so amused ye've been snickering
like a young lass looking at her first tarse growing hard?" Graemme
had turned in his saddle and stared hard at her.

"Do ye really want to know?"

"I would," said Magnus behind her. "I've been
watching yer shoulders shake and wondered what pleased ye so."

"I was picturing men having to put up with
the same life women have now."

"In what way?" Graemme said in an impatient
tone.

"Well, can ye imagine pissing and having wet
yer shoes?"

"Why would we do that?"

"If ye had to be burdened with skirts and
tunics, ye would have to stoop to piss. Likely one foot would be in
the way."

"Huh! Our kilts are much alike skirts."

"Nay. They dinna sweep the ground. Ye are
picking at useless things. They dinna hamper yer legs when ye walk,
climb or sit down."