Battlesong, page 18
“Edyth, there is something we must discuss. I have decided what must be done. Now, here is my plan.”
Despite Edyth’s objections, Laren finally got her to promise to find a way to take the child from Scotland and return him to England and to Knockin. Rhianna had a great love for her youngest brother. She would care for Arthur’s child willingly.
All Laren had to do was see the child safely delivered, and to do that, she must remain in good health. When Fergus returned, she would have to wed him, although to her mind, it would not be an honorable union.
Edyth would find a way to help her over the next several months. All Laren had to do was endure until May, for together they had calculated the month of the birth. Then, although her heart would be severed into pieces, she would surrender her child and let Fergus use her until she was nothing but a shell of a body.
Just as her mother had become.
Chapter Sixteen
Before the sky began to lighten, Arthur, Garrett, and their men were leagues from their camp, in the place selected for ambush. Signals had been selected and soldiers hidden. All there was to do now was wait. And endure the chill west winds. Late December in Scotland was cold, damp, and miserable.
Crouched behind a tree and wrapped in a fur, Arthur thought about Laren and what their lives together had been like since he returned to Rexton. How surprised he had been to find she had managed his property as if it were her own. The improvements she made, improvements he had been in such a hurry to negate, had been wonderful. Had he told her that? He couldn’t remember.
There was much he should have told her—how he appreciated the work she had done, the interest she had taken in what was his, her attention to the details. He had said nothing to her about his thoughts. Now, guilt consumed him and her life was at risk.
Something tugged at the corner of his mind. Why had the Scot taken her from England? What had they missed? This could be all about revenge, but that seemed a poor reason. A man rarely risked everything for the sake of taking revenge on a woman. That alone told him there had to be something else involved in all of this.
Arthur had even given some thought to the man seeking a fight with the English king. But Laren meant nothing to Edward, and Arthur was only a lowly baron. His property was small, of little value to a king interested in amassing connections to barons who could aid in increasing his coffers. Nay, Laren could not influence Edward, and this Fergus had to know she would have no power to do so.
None of Fergus’s efforts could be explained with logic. So, what motivated this madman? And could Arthur hold off taking the man’s life before he found the answers?
Arthur pondered the situation for several hours before word came from the scouts placed along the route they suspected the Scot and his men would travel. Fergus came toward them with only a few men. He had no suspicion of what awaited him on the trail to his keep.
Arthur smiled in anticipation. Soon, he would hold the man’s life at the tip of his sword.
When the Scots appeared, the English descended on them with a mighty roar. Above the clang of iron and battle yells from both sides, Arthur yelled, “Fergus is mine!”
Fergus’s men were furious fighters, but the battle was short lived. There were too many English against such a small band of Scots.
The smell of death surrounded Arthur as he surveyed the carnage. Four of Fergus’s men lay dead or dying, two were severely wounded, one had surrendered before the battle had ended. Fergus lay on the ground with Arthur’s foot at his throat.
“Why did you take my wife from her home?” Arthur pressed his sword against the other man’s chest.
Fergus laughed. “Make it quick, Englishman. By now your bitch of a wife is also dead.”
He smiled again. This one’s death would be slow and painful. He ignored the English soldiers as they set about burying the dead and treating the wounded. “I think not. There are others who have slipped into your keep. My wife lives, and you and your men will suffer greatly for what you have done to her.”
“Nay!” Fergus roared. “She was to die. She must be dead. I gave orders.”
“Those orders will never be carried out.” Arthur prayed the words he spoke were true. “I will take her from this place and care for her, for I understand you abused her in her capture.”
“She is a weak woman. All she is good for is birthing the bairn.”
“Bairn?” That was the Scots name for a child, and Arthur couldn’t hide his surprise. For a second, he was overjoyed. Laren was having his child.
“Aye, she carries a babe.” Fergus smirked. “But it isna yours. I had her when they brought her to me, and the bairn is mine.”
His words sent the slice of a knife through Arthur’s heart. He nearly dropped his sword.
“Aye, I had her as soon as me men brought her to me. If nothing more, she is a fertile bitch. What say you, Englishman? Now she bears a Scots bairn. My babe. So I have the last…”
Pain such as he had never known cut through Arthur. He stepped back, blind with a wound that spread like a wildfire into his soul. The cur had violated his Laren. His love.
Garrett shouted something, but the words made no sense. Arthur turned, seeking a light from the fog of devastation surrounding him. Something or someone fell against his back, and he twisted around. Fergus lay on the ground at his feet, blood pouring from the knife in his back. He sputtered something in his death throes, but the language meant nothing to Arthur.
“What is wrong with you? You turned your back on the enemy.” Garrett grabbed at him, but Arthur could only stare at the man on the ground.
“He forced her. He got her with child. He ruined my wife.”
“Arthur, snap out of it. You know not if he spoke the truth. I fear none of his words were truth. Did he say why he had taken her from Rexton?”
Arthur shook his head, the lump in his throat making words impossible.
“We must wait until we talk to Laren. Come.” Garrett grabbed his arm.
He let Garrett lead him away from the bloody path. Arthur didn’t even think to ask who had delivered the blow that took the Scotsman’s life. It no longer mattered.
He had not protected his wife from this monster. How could he face her when he had failed in his duty? Now, she would have to bear a child not of his seed. She would blame him because she had been used. He could not stomach the thought of her hate and hate him she must.
And the babe? What would he do with it? He looked at the man who led him from the battle scene. Garrett and Rhianna would know what to do with it.
Could Arthur stand to see the hurt in her eyes? Would she ever forgive him?
Aye, she had to forgive him, put this memory from herself. He would devote every minute of every day to her care, ensure she had the best of everything, that this time would not cause her a moment of concern. He would make her happy if it was the last thing he did.
~ * ~
Arthur stumbled into the Scot’s keep, his only thought finding Laren.
“She is still in the room above stairs. No need for her to witness all of this,” Terris said and pointed to the confusion and the blood-stained rushes.
“Aye, best I go to her.”
Terris asked one of their soldiers to take Arthur to his wife.
In moments, he burst through the door and grabbed Laren into his arms. He rained kisses over her hair, her forehead, her eyes, her lips.
Finally, he drew away to see a sheen of moisture in her eyes. Once more, raw, agonizing guilt tore through him.
Never again would she have to remember a moment of the time she spent in this room or the pain she must have experienced at the hand of the Scot. “I am so sorry. I-I…We will leave this place as soon as you are ready.”
“I am ready now,” Laren said, brushing at her cheeks.
He led her from the room with Edyth trailing behind. Before they reached the stairs, he swung her into his arms, and pushed her head against his shoulder. “You must close your eyes,” he whispered.
“Arthur, put me down. I am too heavy. I have seen the results of a battle before.”
“Nay, you must obey me. I do not want anything to upset you.” As he held her close, he had to tell her he knew what Fergus had done, but he could not shame her before any of these men. They would talk once they were on the way back to Rexton.
“Arthur, put me down. There are things you must know.”
“Not now, my heart. We will talk after we leave this place.”
He continued to hold her even though she twisted against his arms. For a moment, he feared he would drop her. “Laren, be still. I will not let you go, nor do I want to drop you. I will put you down when we are outside the gates.”
His voice was a little harsher than he wanted, but her motions were enough to give him fear.
She quieted against him, raised her head, and stared at him. Her expression was confused, but he could expect no less after all she had been through.
His arms ached when he reached his destination, but he refused to release his hold. He never intended to let go of her again, and she would have to accustom herself to his attentions. Of course, he would be gentle, caring, sensitive. Mayhap, talking about the past several weeks would not be a good idea at the moment. He would have to think about the discussion he wanted to have and what time might be best for it.
Would it bring all the pain she suffered to her mind again? Aye, any discussion about the past might best be forgotten for some time to come.
With his decision made, he allowed her to slide against him as he set her feet on the ground. “There, now. After you have rested, we will take our leave.”
“All I’ve been doing is resting. Where is Edyth?”
“I am here,” the maid replied. “Since Arthur is here now, and we are in Scotland, would it be possible for me to visit my kin? I have seen none of them for seven years.”
“You want to go to the clan holding. But what if I need you?” Laren asked, distress bordering on panic in her voice.
“I will care for you myself,” Arthur said. “In fact, I will have one of my men stay with Edyth, and she can return to Rexton after her visit. That way, you can be assured she will return to you safely.”
He saw the grateful look in Edyth’s face. The last weeks had been as hard on Laren’s maid as on his wife. “It is right for her to visit, for there will probably never be another chance for her to see her clan. And the people of Rexton will aid in your care, for they have missed you.”
Laren still looked concerned, but she finally nodded. “Not for long,” she added as Edyth bent her knee and bowed her head in thanksgiving.
“ʼTwill be but a short visit. One of the Blair clans in service to Fergus said my mother still lives and has asked about me. I would see her one last time if you can spare my care for a short while. I know ʼtis not usually allowed, but since ʼtis only a half day’s ride from here, it seems a shame I cannot spend a few hours with her.”
Before Laren could answer, Arthur nodded. “Aye, Edyth. You can take as long as you like with your clan. One of Terris’s men knows the tongue. I’ll ask Terris if he can spare the man. He can stay with you and bring you to Rexton when you have had your visit.”
When Laren opened her mouth, he rushed on, “I have things I must see to,” he said. “I will find Terris’s man and send Edyth on her way. Have you need of food or drink before I leave but for a moment?” He settled Laren on a grassy knoll and wrapped her in his cloak.
“Nay, I’m fine. It feels good to be in the fresh air, even if it is cold. And when you return, we will talk.”
He gritted his teeth. The last thing he thought she needed was to discuss the recent events. Best to put them behind her now and for them to move into the future together. Eventually, a decision would have to be made on the babe she carried, but that would wait until after the birth.
“Edyth, stay with your mistress until I return. I should be but only minutes.” He strode away without a word about their talk.
~ * ~
They camped that night outside Fergus’s keep. Laren felt a bit selfish about trying to deny Edyth a visit with her mother. At least Edyth would only be gone a short time.
Laren tried several times to talk to Arthur, but each time she mentioned her desire, he put her off. Mayhap, she reasoned, he was still upset with the battle with Fergus and his men.
Twice, she had tried to leave their tent to find Terris and thank him again for his rescue, but each time Arthur stopped her, insisting she had need of rest. In that, he was correct. She did find herself more tried than usual, but she reasoned the strain of the last day had affected her more than she expected.
A dull sunrise greeted her the next morning. She rose to dress, only to find Arthur at her side.
“ʼTis not necessary for you to attend me,” she said.
“But I insist,” he replied with a gentle smile.
She let him bring her warm water to bathe and sighed with pleasure at the soft cloth he had found for her to use. When he attempted to help her remove her chemise and gown, she wanted to slap his hands away.
“I can dress myself.” Her voice was a bit impatient but even Edyth seldom removed her garments for her.
“Let me help,” Arthur said. His pout melted her heart, and she almost wanted to let him, but she still had her pride.
“I am not a babe to be dressed by its mother.” She smiled.
He did seem a bit overprotective, but he no doubt worried about her safety. His worry warmed her, and she knew the glow returned to her cheeks.
“Arthur,” she added, needing to stress her feelings. “I am fine. I do not need help with everything I do. I was not harmed, no matter what the soldiers say. In fact, I want to tell you what we did to keep Fergus from me.”
Before she could speak another word, Arthur bolted from the tent. She stared after him, surprised at his reaction.
What was wrong with him? Did he not want to hear how clever they had been? She would seek Garrett out this very hour and find out exactly what had been said to her husband to prevent him from listening to her.
~ * ~
Almost a week passed and they were nearly to Rexton before Laren was able to put her question to Garrett. Two snowstorms hindered their progress, and Arthur insisted they all take the return journey from Scotland much slower than the rescue mission.
They stopped early that afternoon, and Laren heard Garrett grumbling about the speed of their journey. While Arthur was occupied with the horses, she snuck away from their tent and went to find her brother by marriage.
“What is wrong with Arthur? I can say nothing about my time at Fergus’s keep, and m’lord treats me like I am a babe in arms,” she said, crossing her arms.
“He knows about the babe, Laren. The guilt he feels must make it difficult for him to talk about what happened to you.”
“What are you saying? He cannot know about the babe. I haven’t told him. Edyth would not have offered a word until I had my say. What is supposed to have happened to me?” Now, she was confused. Surely, their lengthy travel to Scotland could not have upset Arthur so.
Garrett’s face turned red with what Laren assumed was embarrassment. What had been said to cause such a reaction? “Talk to Arthur.”
“I would, but he will say nothing. Each time I try to speak to him, he changes the subject or rushes out to do something else. He will not talk to me, and although I’ve tried to ask him what he thinks he knows, he says nothing.” She glared at him. He was as bad as Arthur. “I need to know.”
Garrett sighed. “Laren, all know Fergus had his way with you when you arrived at the keep. Arthur knows you carry the Scots’ babe.”
“He-he… His-his babe? Who told him such a thing?” Laren choked out the words.
“Fergus admitted it on the field of battle. Arthur held the blade to his throat. Fergus knew he was about to die. He would not lie.”
She clenched her fists and shook her head. How could Arthur have thought such a thing? Surely, he must know she would never have allowed Fergus a chance to touch her. She said as much to Garrett.
“Why would the man lie when he was about to die?” Now, he seemed confused.
“I know not why, nor do I care. I carry Arthur’s babe. I am in my fourth month. This babe should arrive in May. I did not arrive in Scotland until the first of November. Edyth suggested to Fergus I was so weak and upset by the journey I was ill. But he did know of the babe. Edyth let that slip when we were first kidnapped.”
She started to pace. “Oh, I do not believe Arthur could be so stupid as to believe such a tale. Fergus sought to make him lose control, to even the score before he lost his life.” She raised a hand to her face and placed a finger against her cheek. “He must listen to me. This babe is his. And I am not some fragile thing to be wrapped in silk; not allowed to even prepare my own meals.”
“He feels guilty. I will talk to him and ask him to listen to you. Mayhap, after you explain—”
“Laren!” Arthur interrupted their conservation. “You should not be here alone. Why are you not in the tent resting? I was only gone for a moment or two. Come, I will escort you back to our tent.”
“Arthur, your wife needs to talk to you,” Garrett said.
“We talk. Now, she needs to rest. You should have sent her back to the tent.” Arthur lifted her into his arms, and Laren sighed, then surrendered.
Arthur was not yet ready to listen. But this pampering had to stop. She would go mad if she was allowed to do nothing but be carried around in Arthur’s arms and spend her days resting and eating.
There was also another problem she wanted to speak to him about, something she could never bring herself to mention to Garrett. Each night, Arthur would prepare for bed and roll into his cloak next to her. He gave her all his furs, his blankets, and slept only in his cloak, although at times, she was so hot she wanted nothing more than to throw the furs from her body.
