Fraser 01 - Highland Legacy, page 19
“We cannot just leave the dead and wounded behind.” Bryce drew his sword and started to move in the direction of the camp.
Connor grabbed his arm. “What do you plan to do? Too many have fallen, and we are but five men against three thousand. There’s nothing more we can do for them. We must entrust the spirits of the dead to the Almighty, and as for the wounded—” Connor hesitated, his eyes downcast. “The English have shown no quarter, and there are no survivors.”
Bryce took a few more steps, then planted his feet firmly in place. He took a final look at the disheveled encampment, crossed himself, and bowed his head in prayer. “Tha ma duilich. I’m sorry, please forgive us, dear friends. Rest assured that your deaths will be avenged.”
Following his brother’s lead, Connor bowed his head and prayed for the souls of those lost this day, for their families, and for Scotland.
Pangs of guilt twisted his gut. Thousands of brave men had died, yet he’d survived, and would carry the memory of this battle the rest of his days. Aye, Simon was right, they would live to see another day, to fight another battle, and owed it to the fallen to do it with pride. But when it was over, and Scotland’s army had licked its wounds and rebuilt its forces, he would go to Cailin and tell her how he felt. He would beg her forgiveness and take her to wife—if she’d have him. If this day’s massacre taught him anything, it was that time is precious, and not to be wasted on fear or senseless pride.
“We must be away, lads,” Simon whispered. He tapped Connor on the shoulder.
“Aye, we’ve tarried long enough.” He joined the others, and they silently made their way through a thicket of brambles and out of harm’s way.
It didn’t take long for news of the Scot’s defeat and de Valence’s treachery to spread. It was a well-known fact that Robert the Bruce had narrowly escaped and planned to retaliate. However, to divulge the extent of their loss and the near annihilation of the Scottish army would be an open invitation for the English to attack before they had a chance to regroup.
Over two months had passed since the battle near Methven and still there had been little word as to survivors, leaving many families wondering about the fate of their loved ones. Cailin was no exception.
She paced the priory cell, praying for news of Connor and his brothers, but hope of their return was beginning to wane. Without conscious thought, her hands covered the small swell of her belly. Five months along, she was starting to show. Fortunately, the morning sickness had subsided, and she no longer dreaded waking up to a chamber pot. A soft rap on the door caught her attention. Half-expecting Mary to bustle in with a food-laden tray, she slid to the edge of the bed and sat up. “Aye, who is it?”
The door opened, and Cailin’s mouth dropped open in surprise when in addition to Mary, she saw Marjory Bruce standing in the doorway.
“The queen feared an attack on Kildrummy castle was immanent and sent Marjory to us for safe keeping.” Mary placed her hand on emiesMarjory’s shoulder and ushered her into the cell.
“Is there any word of Connor or your father?”
Mary shook her head. “Nay. I’m sorry to say there has been no word.”
“I wanted to wait for my father to come home, but my stepmother would not hear of it. If Papa is wounded, he may need my help.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, her slender shoulders heaving as she released a torrent of tears.
Cailin gathered Marjory in her arms. When the child had cried herself out, her wailing reduced to a few sniffles, she guided her to the bed and encouraged her to sit down. She sat beside her and offered a linen handkerchief. Even though her own father had no regard for her, she knew the loss and despair of being ripped from her home. To be forced to leave parents who adored and coddled you must have been devastating.
“I know you’re worried about your father. The word is that he survived the battle at Methven and is hale and hardy. Your stepmother was wise to send you here.” Cailin swept the tangle of blond curls from the girl’s face with a gentle brush of her hand. “Did your mother and the others leave the castle as well?”
“Nay. They stayed to wait for the men to return,” Mary interjected. “The castle is well-guarded, and I’m sure everyone is safe. They thought it best that the bairn join us for while.”
Cailin studied Mary’s face, uncertain if she was telling the truth, or simply trying to allay the child’s fear.
“Mother, Aunt Mary, Aunt Christina, Uncle Nigel, and Isabella MacDuff, the Countess of Buchan, remain at the castle. Lady Fraser left a fortnight ago. She grew restless and decided to return to their home in lowlands to wait for Sir Simon’s return.” Marjory dragged the handkerchief across her damp cheeks.
“What of Lady Jenna?” Cailin asked with genuine concern. While the lass had shown her no kindness, she shuddered to think what the English soldiers would do to a maiden if given a chance. Her own attack on the riverbank showed her to what extent the randy scoundrels would go.
“Jenna refused to leave, despite her father’s wishes. I begged her to come with me, but she would not hear of it. I am ashamed to say it, but my cousin Jenna will turn this terrible event around and use it to her advantage.” Marjory sniffled, blew her nose, then crumpled the scrap of linen in her hand before she continued. “Jenna once told me that if the English ever took over Scotland, she would select a handsome lord who suited her fancy, woo him, and if necessary, marry the rogue. She claimed she would do what was necessary to remain a lady in high standing and would never cower to any man.”
Tightness squeezed her chest, and Cailin fought to breathe. What if Jenna knew of her location and betrayed her to the English? “You dinna think she knows where I’m hiding and would tell?”
“Nay, I’m certain they kept your hiding place a secret. Marjory dinna know where she was going until she arrived. Even if Jenna did know, I cannot believe she would betray her family’s trust or stoop so low.” Mary wrapped her arm around Marjory’s shoulder, and urged her to stand. “Come, sweeting, I’ll show you to a chamber and help you to clean up. Cailin needs to rest.”
“I appreciate your concern, Mary, but I dinna wish to rest.”
Mary lightly stroked Cailin’s cheek. “Your face lacks color and you have dark circles under your eyes. When I passed by your cell late last night, I noticed the light under your door. Connor would never forgive me if I dinna care for you and the bairn.”
“I’m a grown woman, and know if I need to rest,” Cailin replied a little more sharply than she’d intended. She didn’t mean to appear ungrateful and truly appreciated Mary’s concern, even if she was a little overzealous at times.
“If not for yourself, then think about the babe,” Mary cautioned. “Now, climb back into bed while I see the wee lassie settled. Once I’m finished, I’ll fetch you a cup of warm milk to help calm your nerves. Cook made a fresh batch of bannock. I’ll bring you some with honey and a wedge of cheese.”
Cailin bit back the urge to argue. Mary was probably right. She hadn’t been sleeping well, her appetite was poor, and she needed to think about the babe. On the other hand, how could she rest? If wounded, Connor might need of a healer or, God forbid—she quickly crossed herself—he could be dead. The constant worry that Borden’s men would find her hiding place weighed heavy on her mind. She began to pace, even more concerned about her fate and that of her loved ones. “I need to know that Connor is safe and that this place of sanctuary will remain as such.”
“I dinna want to stay in this horrible place. It’s dark, damp, and smells like dung,” Marjory shrieked. She crossed her arms over her chest and defiantly stomped her foot. “I want to go home.”
Mary threw her hands up in the air. “Och, the two of you will be the death of me.” She lifted the girl’s chin and sighed. “I’m afraid you dinna have a choice in the matter. I know you’re worried about your father, as I worry about my own. The priory may not be a fancy place, but your mother has placed you in my care, and I mean to keep you safe. Now, be a good lass and come along.”
After a moment’s pause, the child nodded. “Fine, I’ll go with you for now, but I’m not staying. As soon as I’m able, I plan to return home and wait for father.”
Cailin bit back the urge to smile. Marjory’s spirit reminded her of herself as a child. Mary was so kind-hearted and only trying to do what she felt was best for all concerned. She did not wish to cause any more grief, so she sat on the edge of the bed and waited for them to leave. However, when the door closed behind them, she sprang to her feet. Resting was out of the question. She’d go out of her mind with worry if word of Connor did not come soon. She spied the Bible on the table and picked it up. Holding it to her breast, she prayed Connor, his brothers, and all at Kildrummy Castle would be spared.
Chapter 18
With a heavy heart, Cailin peered out the casement window and drew her woolen plaid around her shoulders. Dark grey clouds loomed over the moors, threatening rain, but the fiercest storm could not rival the torrent of emotion and uncertainty raging within her breast. Several more weeks had passed, and still no word of Connor. The chill of late autumn gripped the air and soon the snow would fly. In the spring, her babe would be born, and it was beginning to look like he would never know his father.
On more than one occasion, she’d contemplated leaving the priory, rather than waiting for Borden to find her, but where would she go? As if on cue, the babe rolled, and kicked—a vivid reminder that she had a reason to live, and a reason to fight. She smiled and slid her hands over the spot, wondering if he’d used a foot or an elbow to gain her attention. “You’ll be all right, little one. I’ll see you safe, and protect you always.” From the beginning, she’d sensed the babe would be a lad, had prayed it would not a lass. A daughter used to barter for land and alliances, or subject to the unjust English laws.
A gust of wind blew the shutters closed, locking out the world beyond the priory walls. For now she was safe, but something in her gut told her it would not last for long. She sighed, then moved toward the bed and picked up the Bible. Propped up on her lone pillow, she settled into a comfortable position and began to read aloud. After a few pages, fatigue took over and she nodded off.
When the door latch lifted, she woke with a start. “Who is it?” she called out, expecting Marjory to come bounding into the room. The child had taken to visiting every day and Mary often accompanied her. She welcomed the company, and the distraction. “Who is it?” she asked again.
There was no reply.
She slid to the edge of the bed and dropped her legs over the side. No sooner had her feet touched the floor when the door burst open and crashed against the wall.
Cailin felt the color drain from her face as her worst nightmare had come to life.
Lord Jonathan Borden stood in the doorway with a sinister grin plastered across his face. “It’s about time I found you. You’ve led me on a merry chase and put me in bad favor with my king. We are not impressed.” He stepped into the room, slammed the door shut, and moved with purpose toward the bed. “There’s a gallows at Carlisle Castle with your name on it, and the executioner awaits your arrival.”
Terrified, but determined not to show it, Cailin squared her shoulders and sucked in a ragged breath. With her chin held high, she slowly rose to her feet, the Bible clutched against her breast. There was no way out, but she refused to let him see her fear. “For what crime am I charged?”
“The charges are murder and witchcraft. You killed my brother, and you will pay for the crime.”
“I am not a witch, and I have killed no one.”
He grabbed Cailin’s upper arm and the bible tumbled to the floor. His eyes traveled the length of her body, settling on the swell of her belly. An angry scowl replaced his pompous smirk. “I can see you are no longer innocent in the ways of the flesh. You denied me, yet you slept with rabble.” He stroked the scar on his cheek. “Do you remember this? I’ve spent many a sleepless night, thinking of the ways I can make you pay...make you beg for my mercy.”
“I remember you all too well, Lord Borden. I was bairn when you tried to accost me against my will. You were a guest in my father’s home, and you had no right to touch me—”
“As an English Lord, I have right to bed any whore I choose, and to do with her as I wish.” He twisted her arm, shoving her back against the bed. “Anywhere I choose.” With his free hand, he loosened the ties on his trews.
Cailin slid a protective hand over her belly. “I am not a whore. I carry my husband’s child.” My betrothed’s child.
“No marriage was sanction by King Edward.”
“I answer to the rightful King of Scotland. Not the English tyrant who lays claim to my homeland.”
Borden wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed. “I could cut out your tongue for speaking such treason. But I have other uses for your lovely mouth.” A lascivious grin crossed his lips. “Where is your husband now? Only a coward would run away, leaving his bride unprotected.”
“My husband is the bravest man I know. He sent me here for my protection while he—” She stopped speaking before she revealed too much.
“While he what?” Borden tightened his hand around her throat. “Perhaps he was one of the fools killed at Methven, or lays dead and rotting in a field outside of Dail Righ. That is where the clan MacDougall intercepted the followers of Robert the Bruce after the battle and laid waste to what was left of his pathetic army.”
“Dail Righ...the king’s field?” After the death of Red Comyn, the clan MacDougall sided with the English, but the idea that Scots would betray their fellow compatriots was unthinkable. Her knees buckled when Borden suggested Connor was dead, but she managed to remain standing. She’d not let Borden know he rattled her. She had to be strong for Connor, and for their child. Was the blackguard fishing for information? Was he toying with her head, and her heart, hoping she would betray the man she loved, or was Connor truly gone from her life forever?
“The Scots tried to rebuild their forces in Argyll Mountains. When word reached our army, we intercepted the rebels. Those that survived the battle of Dail Righ retreated to Kirkenclif, where most were taken prisoner, or executed for treason. There, we arrested Sir Simon Fraser and sent him to England to stand trial. Found guilty of treason, Edward saw him hanged, disemboweled, and then drawn and quartered. His head sits on pike on London Bridge, along with that of William Wallace.”
Her throat constricted, but she managed to hold the tears at bay. Cailin staggered at his words and struggled to catch her breath. “Sir Simon Fraser was captured and executed?” Her heart sank, and Mary immediately came to mind. She’d be devastated to learn of her father’s fate. Not to mention how the death of their beloved cousin and surrogate father would affect Connor and his brothers. Scotland had suffered a great loss.
“Some of the insurgents managed to escape, but it won’t be long before we round them up and see them punished,” Borden continued. “Perhaps your husband is among them. If I knew his name, I could ease your mind.”
The bittersweet news that Connor might still be alive caused her heart to race with joy, but it plummeted as quickly when she thought about the torture and brutal execution that awaited him if captured. That is if he was not already dead. She turned her head. “You were right when you said my husband died at the battle of Methven.”
“Liar!”
“I speak the truth. Word arrived shortly after the battle. He died a warrior’s death. When I learned his fate, I took refuge in the priory.”
“Perhaps he did die at Methven, but it matters not. In the event he is still alive, I’ve sent a missive to Kirkenclif, informing the miscreants that Kildrummy Castle has fallen and the villages in the surrounding area are now under English rule. I made it very clear we’ll leave no stone unturned in our search for enemies of the king or fugitives from his laws.
The news of Kildrummy’s fall was another heavy blow, but she refused to betray Connor. “How did you find me?” She was doing some fishing of her own. Obviously, the person who had divulged her whereabouts had not mentioned his name.
“I got my information from a lovely and very reliable source at Kildrummy Castle.”
“Jenna?” Cailin gasped. She clenched her fist and brought it to her breast. She couldn’t breathe. She could only imagine what they had done to her, and the others who had refused to leave the castle.
“So you know the lovely Jenna, do you?” The evil laugh that followed his question echoed throughout the cell. “When she finished revealing her family secrets, she warmed my bed quite nicely. The little vixen wasn’t even affected when we hanged her father in the bailey as a warning to anyone who may try to retaliate. Once I finished with her, I handed her over to the captain of my guard.”
Vile bastard! “You violated her, and killed her father?” Despite the fact that Jenna had betrayed her and her family, Cailin wouldn’t wish that fate on her worst enemy.
“You can’t violate a whore.” There was no remorse in his voice. “I did not have to force myself on her. She offered her favors quite willingly and asked me to take her to England as my mistress. But one can only eat so many sweets before they tire of them and move to something more delectable.” His fingers skimmed her shoulder, then pawed at her breasts. “You are a very beautiful woman. It’s a shame you allowed that Scottish swine to deflower you. Had you saved yourself for me, I might have been able to persuade Edward to show leniency. At the least, I’d have seen you executed without torture.”
“How chivalrous. Your mercy knows no bounds.” Cailin didn’t try to hide the sarcasm in her voice. His touch repulsed her, yet she stood her ground and didn’t shy away.
“You’re a sassy wench. I like fire in the women I bed. I look forward to taming your wild spirit.”
