Susan King - [Celtic Nights 01] (25 page)

He stood in the bailey with the rope of hares dangling from his hand. The day had grown chilly, and the sun went behind a cloud. Sunshine lingered in the radiance of her smile, the color of her hair, the chime of her laughter.

He watched her, thoughtfully, wondering just what Alainna MacLaren was coming to mean in his life. He had not planned to linger here when he had reluctantly accepted the king's grant. But he had not thought to find her so enchanting, and he had not expected to like her kin and her home as much as he did.

Too much, he thought, for a man who had decided to settle where his roots, such as they were, existed. Heart beating like a drum, he turned and walked toward the kitchen.

Chapter 15

"The church of Saint Brighid is just over there," Giric told Sebastien, pointing east. On the low rise of a hill, a stone building with a square tower shone pale against a snowy backdrop of high slopes.

"And that stone cross ahead on the path?" Sebastien asked. "What does it mark?" A tall cross soared up from the ridge they traveled, its stone arms stretched against the overcast sky. Pocked with age, the cross was carved in an intricate, overall pattern of interweaving vines and spirals.

"Long ago, these crosses marked meeting places for priests and their parishioners," Alainna replied. "Prayers and masses were said out in the open then, but now there are parish churches throughout the Highlands."

Sebastien walked toward the cross, drawing the reins of his horse behind him. At Kinlochan, as the Highlanders and the knights had gathered in the bailey to travel the two miles to the church, Sebastien had lifted Una onto his ivory-colored Arabian stallion, choosing to walk. Robert, Hugo, Etienne, and some of the other knights had followed his example and lent their horses to elderly clan members.

"Some still come here to pray, or to make vows of marriage." Alainna walked toward Sebastien. "Private vows of handfasting can be said at these isolated crosses, with or without witnesses."

She was lovely in the clear light, he thought, her cheeks pink with cold, her eyes a brilliant blue, her hair amber where it showed beneath the brown plaid pulled over the crown of her head. He felt a rich surge of desire, remembering the luxurious feel of her in his arms.

"Shall we do that, then?" he murmured.

She turned her cool, perfect profile to him, but the rosy stain in her cheeks deepened. "I thought the king required a marriage of you and me, with contract and witnesses."

"He does," Sebastien said. "Still, it would be good to have this done, quickly and simply, without the fuss of a wedding." He tipped a brow and sent her a wry smile, deliberately charming, hoping to coax some levity into her. She gave him a reluctant smile.

"Father Padruig will be waiting the Mass for us if we do not hurry!" Una called impatiently behind them. Alainna moved ahead, as he did.

"Look west, there," Alainna said. "That is Turroch, which belongs to Cormac MacNechtan."

He noticed a wooden fortress a mile or more away, crowning a mound surrounded by a crescent of pine forest and backed by mountains. "I mean to visit him soon with the king's message," he said.

"Wait until after the marriage," Alainna said. Her pleading tone caught his attention, and he frowned at her.

"You will see Cormac sooner than that," Giric said. He and Niall ran to join them, their breaths frosting in the cold. "Look south—there comes Black Cormac and another, on foot."

"His brother Struan," Niall added.

Sebastien whirled to look, as did Alainna. Two men walked over the swell of a hill and came toward them. They were huge, unkempt, and fierce-looking, one black-haired, one redheaded. Both wore plaids of red and brown over coarse shirts and vests of fur, with fur leggings. Sebastien saw in them the sort of men who had given Highlanders their reputation as savages.

"By the look of those spears and bows, they are out for a hunt," Robert said, walking up to join Sebastien and the rest.

"Or worse," Giric drawled. "They will behave themselves. They are but two alone, while we are twenty and more strong, with armored knights among us."

"And women, on the Sabbath day," Alainna added.

"They will behave," Niall said, "unless they have a host of MacNechtans hiding in the hills to ambush us."

Hearing Alainna gasp, Sebastien caught her glance and shook his head to reassure her. "They are alone," he said.

"The view from here is widespread. There is no one else about. No cause to worry, my lady."

One of the men called out a greeting as they drew near. They were brawny men, armed with spears, bows, and targes. The redheaded man carried two limp hares strung on a cord.

"Cormac MacNechtan," Alainna said. "Struan."

"Alainna of Kinlochan," the black-haired man said. "We heard Normans had come to Kinlochan, and would greet them, too." He spit on the ground, an obvious insult.

"Be on your way," Alainna said. "It is the Sabbath."

"We mean no harm to you or yours," the redheaded man said.

"You are ready with bow and spear to battle some hares, I see," Giric said.

"Do you fear that you are those hares?" Cormac asked.

"We would be wolves," Giric snarled.

"Peace," Sebastien warned. His horse, sensing tension in the air, sidestepped restively. Sebastien handed the reins to Lulach nearby, and walked toward the Highlanders.

"You are no priest, to order peace between enemies," Cormac said, narrowing his gaze at Sebastien. "What does a Norman knight want in the Highlands? Did you come here to stir trouble and claim land that is not yours?"

"Are you Cormac MacNechtan of Turroch?" Sebastien asked in Gaelic. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that several clan members, including Alainna, now stood behind him.

"I am. Who are you?"

"Sebastien le Bret, sent here by order of the king. I bring a message from the king, which I must deliver to you, but later. Here is not the place for it."

"A reply to my petition at last," Cormac said. "I trust the answer will please me, and bring me a fine wife." He glanced at Alainna.

Sebastien shifted to block Cormac's view of her, as if that dark glance might sully her. "The king orders Clan Laren and Clan Nechtan to put their weapons and their anger aside. We will discuss the details later."

"We can only resolve this feud through marriage between our clans," Cormac said. "Our grudge is older than the king's own Celtic bloodline. He cannot simply order us to stop and expect it to be done, without suitable reward."

"The king wishes to establish your loyalty before he grants a reward. I am certain you will be eager to prove that to him."

"Tell the king we are loyal," Struan said. "The MacWilliams are the rebellious ones. And those rebels who are not dead have fled to Ireland."

"We are neither dead nor in Ireland, as you see." Cormac grinned. "So how can we be rebels?"

Sebastien watched them steadily. "If you are trustworthy, it will go well for you. But those who support Celtic rebels risk all, land and life."

"Of course," Cormac said. "Lately I have heard that the rebel MacWilliams are returning to the Highlands to beg support. I have heard that Ruari
Mor
is among them, returned from the dead. If I see him, I will be sure to refuse him help." He looked hard at Alainna.

"Even if he were alive, Ruari would never ask support from you!" Alainna snapped.

"Would he not?" Cormac asked. "We have strength of men, where Clan Laren does not. If Ruari Mor's ghost or any rebel comes to my gate, I will let the Normans have him. Would that please the king, Norman?"

"Nothing you do could please the king," Lulach growled, stepping forward. A murmur went through the gathering.

Sebastien moved to stand between the MacNechtans and the rest, determined to stem the rising tempers on both sides. "We will meet to discuss the king's orders," he told Cormac. "For now, be warned that the crown demands that you prove your loyalty, and that your clan cease to feud with Clan Laren. If you do not, you risk all. The king has the right to cast you out from your lands."

"And give them into Norman keeping?" Cormac snarled. "Why are you at Kinlochan? What is it that Clan Nechtan does not yet know?" He looked at Alainna. "Tell me what this is about."

"Sir Sebastien le Bret has been appointed baron of Kinlochan by king's order," she said.

"Laird of Kinlochan!" Cormac glared at Sebastien, breath heaving. Sebastien tensed his hand, ready to pull free his sword if Cormac touched a weapon. Cormac pivoted toward Struan. "I will kill that priest," he muttered. "I paid him to write a petition that would gain me Kinlochan, not lose it to Normans!"

"You cannot blame this on the priest," Struan said.

"Bah!" Cormac turned to Sebastien. "What of Alainna MacLaren? She had best be my bride. I am the closest and strongest neighbor to Kinlochan. If she is not to be mine, there will be strife."

Sebastien stood unyielding, his hand steady on his sword hilt, his gaze hard. "We are prepared for that."

"Ask the king for another reward," Cormac said. "MacGregor land would suit you."

Giric lunged forward and Sebastien put out an arm to stop his advance. Robert and Hugo and two other knights stepped forward. Sebastien felt a base urge to shove his fist into Cormac's gloating face, but he forced himself to remain outwardly impassive.

"Who will marry her?" Cormac demanded. "The Norman who flattered the king for the lady's lands? Myself, who submitted a rightful petition? Or her foster brother, who lusts after her in secret?"

Giric leaned forward again, but Sebastien shot him a glare, arm outstretched. "Keep to the king's purpose here, not your own," he hissed. Giric narrowed his eyes in fury but stilled.

Alainna pushed past Giric and Sebastien then. They both reached for her, but she avoided their hands and glided over the brown grasses like a queen, her head high, her hair shining like a red gold crown. Sebastien took a long step to stand at her side like an honor guard, hand on weapon, gaze keen.

"Cormac MacNechtan," she said. "I will choose my husband myself. You will not tell me who to wed."

"Do you choose the Norman?" Cormac asked.

"The Norman is a great warrior, and I am in his debt. He killed a boar with one thrust of his spear, and saved my life. You are in his debt, too. This man saved Eoghan and Lileas from the wolves along with another man, who went into hiding. If that man was a rebel, you should not be so quick to turn him over to the king's men."

"Then we are in the Norman's debt, and the other man too," Struan said to Cormac.

Cormac frowned at his brother and at Sebastien. "Whoever helped my son," he said carefully, "if he be enemy, remains enemy. But he shall not die by my hand. I can promise no more than that."

Sebastien maintained a steady gaze at Cormac and said nothing.

"It is enough," Alainna said. "This knight has proven his strength and his willingness to help my people. If I choose to wed him, you will know it by the posting of the banns."

"Do not make the mistake of becoming his wife," Cormac said.

"It is my choice, for ill or good," Alainna said.

"Cormac MacNechtan," Sebastien said. "The king orders peace here, and sent us to see it accomplished. I will meet with you at Turroch to discuss the king's writ and his message to you. If you threaten this clan or these people, then prepare for battle with the king's own army."

Cormac flexed his thick fingers on the staff of his spear. "Come to Turroch, then," he said stiffly. "For now, I wish to speak with Alainna in private, as one chief to another. I have more to discuss with her."

"He has that right," Alainna said.

Sebastien flexed his hand and slithered the tip of his sword loose. "We will tolerate no trouble," he warned. He stepped backward so that Cormac and Alainna stood alone.

"The holding of Kinlochan is mine," Cormac said in a low voice that carried in the crisp air. "You should be mine. Your father wanted peace as much as anyone. He would have given you to me to gain it. He gave me his promise on the day he died."

"He would not promise that!"