Shadow Music (14 page)

He sighed. “There is. Each baron carries a writ proclaiming to be speaking and acting on the king’s behalf. Coswold’s writ is more current if you believe the date written down. The king’s seal is on both writs, or so I’ve been told.” All of a sudden the abbot bounded to his feet. “Oh, Lord, I forgot. With all the commotion and the shouting, my errand completely slipped my mind. And how could it? With the worry about those two—Father Gelroy, I was on my way to search for you when Baron Coswold called out to me.”

“Why were you searching for me?” he asked.

“I promised to send you to the top of the wall. You see, there are two…” He paused.

“Two? Two what?” Gelroy asked.

“Lairds,” he answered reluctantly. “Buchanan and MacHugh. They didn’t say why they need to speak to you, but Laird MacHugh mentioned something about his brother. Do you know anything about this?” Panic and dread flashed across Gelroy’s face. “I’ve a fair idea.”

“I will hear your explanation later as the lairds have been kept waiting long enough. They don’t look the patient sort.” He smiled as he added, “I also heard one of them—I believe it was MacHugh, but I can’t be certain—mention something about taking you away with him.” Gelroy swallowed loudly. “You did?”

“Perhaps one of them will offer you the chance to join his clan as a spiritual leader. I know you want to have your own church one day, is that not so? And you also wish to save as many souls as possible. Is that not also so?”

Gelroy frantically nodded agreement. He did want his own church and his own flock—what priest wouldn’t?—but not among these brutal lairds and their unruly clans. He didn’t want to live the rest of his life in the state of perpetual terror.

“I am content to pray for lost souls here, Abbot,” he said in a whisper. “Do you want me to escort Lady Gabrielle to face the barons, or do you want me to speak to the lairds?”

“I will go with her, and you hurry to the lairds. More and more of their clansmen have come inside. The sooner you talk to them, the better.”

There was no getting out of it, Gelroy knew. “Best get it done,” he said.

He said his good-bye to Gabrielle one last time and left on his dreaded mission.

Gabrielle was going to continue to refuse to meet with the barons, but she abruptly changed her mind.

She didn’t want to put the abbot in the awkward position of having to explain why she ignored the summons.

“I’ll see what the barons want, and then I’ll leave the abbey with all possible haste. Abbot, I would like to thank you once again for your hospitality and your kindness to my father and me. We are most appreciative.”

She began to walk around the abbot to go to the commons, but he blocked her.

“I’m going to escort you, milady, but shouldn’t we wait for your guards? They would certainly want to stand by your side when you speak to these barons.”

She shook her head. “My guards are too busy to be bothered with this nonsense, and I’m certain the meeting won’t take any time at all.”

He couldn’t dissuade her. Gabrielle had another reason for keeping her guards away from the barons.

Her father didn’t trust these men, and neither would she. She was concerned that Coswold and Percy might have their underlings provoke a fight, and though her guards were well-trained, they could be overwhelmed by the sheer number of men attacking.

She did wish her father was by her side, though. He knew what these men were capable of, and he would know what to expect. She tried to think of the worst that could happen so that she would be prepared, but never in her wildest thoughts could she have imagined what was coming.

G
ELROY DRAGGED HIS FEET AND PRAYED HIS WAY UP THEstairs. When he reached the last step and took a good look around, his knees buckled. He had to lean against the wall to keep from tumbling backward.

Good Lord, there were so many of them! And all were watching him.

His voice sounded like the squeak of a rusty door hinge when he called out, “Did someone wish to speak to me?”

Two Highlanders were coming his way. Their long strides quickly consumed the distance between them.

Gelroy clung to the wall and waited. Someone gave him a push from the rear. Startled, the priest turned.

Another Highlander was standing on the stairs behind him. How had the man gotten there so quickly?

“You are the priest Gelroy?” a booming voice at the top of the stairs asked.

He looked up again. The two giants stood side by side. They were of equal height, and both wore the scars of their past. Gelroy took a tentative step toward them. “I am Father Gelroy.” Brodick noticed the priest was twitching and rapidly losing the color in his face. “We mean you no harm, priest,” he said in an attempt to help Gelroy get over his scare.

“I am Laird MacHugh,” Colm said.

Gelroy nodded. “Yes, you resemble your brother.”

“And I am Laird Buchanan.”

The priest managed a bit of a smile as he looked up at Brodick. “Yes, I know. You are the wild Buchanan.”

“What did you call me?” He was too surprised to be angry.

“She calls you the wild Buchanan.”

Brodick raised an eyebrow. “Who calls me this?”

“Lady Gabrielle,” he answered. “Don’t you know who she is?” He rushed on, “She’s the daughter of Baron Geoffrey of Wellingshire, and they are your family through your wife.” Brodick’s pleasant mood was ruined. He felt as though he was constantly being reminded that he had English relatives. It was damned humiliating.

“I have questions to put to you,” Colm said impatiently.

“Yes?”

“It’s my understanding that you tended to my brother when he was brought here.”

“No, I didn’t tend to him, for I have never learned the ways of healing. It was Father Franklin who tended to Liam, but I helped as much as I could. His injuries were severe, and for a time, I’m ashamed to admit, I didn’t think he would survive.”

Colm nodded. “Who brought him here?”

“I cannot say.”

Colm tilted his head and stared at Gelroy for several seconds. “You cannot or you will not?” he demanded.

“Cannot.” Gelroy was able to look directly into the laird’s eyes because he was telling the truth. He
couldn’t
say. He had promised Lady Gabrielle that he would hold her secret, and he could not break his word to her. He didn’t understand why she didn’t want anyone to know that she and her guards had helped Liam, but he would respect her wishes.

The questions continued, but Gelroy knew that Laird MacHugh didn’t believe he was telling him everything because he kept circling back to the same question: How had Liam gotten to the abbey?

“Did anyone else see Liam being carried inside?” Brodick asked.

“No. I don’t believe so, and I did my best to keep his presence secret.”

“Did you lift him and carry him in, priest?” Colm folded his arms across his chest and waited for his answer.

Gelroy was feeling sick to his stomach. What was he going to do? In order to protect the promise he’d made, he would have to lie to the laird. What a mess. He wished he had time to talk to his confessor, for he didn’t have any idea what kind of sin he was about to commit. Was it a mild infraction that would be considered a venial sin, or was it far more damning because a priest was telling the lie? Could it be a mortal sin then? No, surely not. Gelroy thought he would have to do something much more serious, like

kill a man, to make a mortal spot on his soul. Still, a sin was a sin.

Gelroy was sinking in a quagmire, and he saw no way out.

“What would you say if I told you I might have lifted him and carried him inside?” Colm looked at Brodick. “Is he jesting?”

Brodick shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Gelroy asked, “What if I were to tell you I cannot remember?” Colm let the priest see his annoyance. “You cannot remember lifting a man who weighs at least twice as much as you do? You cannot remember that amazing feat?”

Gelroy bowed his head. He gave up trying to be clever. “I’m sorry, Laird, but I cannot tell you anything more. I have given my word to keep silent, and I must keep it.” Colm was furious. “Did you give your word to the men who tried to kill my brother?”

“I did not, and I have no idea who those terrible men are. I would not hold their secrets unless they came to me in confession.” He hastily put his hands up. “And none of them did confess to me. I swear to you I know nothing about them. I don’t even know what happened to your brother. I only saw the result of the punishment they inflicted.”

Brodick was distracted by the noise from the courtyard. A Buchanan warrior called to him. “There’s trouble below.”

One of MacHugh’s men looked down at the people assembled below. “You should see this,” he told Colm.

“Why do I care about the English and their troubles?” Brodick asked as he strode to the parapet.

“Baron Geoffrey’s daughter is at the heart of the trouble.”
G
ABRIELLE LED THE WAY TO THE COMMONS.SHE WAS DETERMINED to end this meeting and be on her way home as quickly as possible. The abbot followed as she hurried up the small knoll past the monks’ sleeping quarters and around the smaller chapel adjacent to the baking house. She was about to enter the commons through an archway when she noticed a woman standing in the shadows watching her. Gabrielle instinctively smiled and nodded a greeting, but the woman did not respond in kind. There was loathing in her expression, and her ferretlike eyes glowed with hatred.

Gabrielle was so taken aback, she abruptly stopped. Although she had never met the woman before, she had a fair idea who she was. Such a vile reaction could only come from a Monroe. Her father had told her that most of the Monroe clan blamed her for their laird’s death. The ridiculous idea made no sense to her, and she considered saying something to the woman and pointing out that her attitude was most unreasonable, but before she could speak, the strange woman picked up her skirts and ran away.

The abbot caught up with Gabrielle in time to see what had happened. “Do you know that woman?”

“No, I don’t,” she replied. “She seemed most upset, didn’t she?”

“Aye, she did. Upset with you from the look she was wearing on her face.” Gabrielle nodded. “She must be a Monroe because the Monroes dislike me intensely.”

“Oh, no, Lady Gabrielle, that isn’t so.”

“It’s not?” she asked, a bit relieved. The idea of an entire clan hating her was upsetting. “The Monroes don’t hate me?” she asked eagerly.

“Oh, yes, they do. They most certainly do,” he answered matter-of-factly, sounding almost cheerful.

“But you see, that woman isn’t a Monroe. I can’t recall her name, but I remember being introduced to her, and I believe she’s related to one of the barons. With all the strangers I’ve met in the past few days, I can’t keep all of them straight in my head. These English all tend to look alike.” Lovely, she thought. The Monroes’ hatred had spilled all the way down to England.

“I won’t allow myself to be concerned about their foolish opinions.” The abbot gestured toward the passage into the courtyard. “Shouldn’t we continue on?”

“Yes,” Gabrielle agreed. “But you needn’t come with me. I’m certain you have more important matters to attend to, and I don’t want you to waste another minute worrying about me. I prefer to face the barons alone.”

She stepped through a short hallway and found herself in the middle of a dogfight. It was difficult for her to locate the two barons because the area was filled with people, everyone in the assembled crowd trying to shout louder than everyone else. It was pandemonium. Something urgent must be happening, she thought, to provoke such vehement arguing. She drew back into the shadows, waiting for the noise to die down.

She searched the crowd for the two barons, and when she happened to look up, her breath caught in her throat and she nearly lost her balance. Liam’s brother stood looking down from the top of the wall.

He now appeared even larger and more menacing than the first time she had seen him on the hill. It wasn’t just his size that made Colm MacHugh so intimidating but his rigid stance and his stony expression. He was the most fearsome man she had ever seen.

The laird next to him was also a daunting figure. She recognized him as well. This was the wild Buchanan.