Shadow Music (33 page)

Isla pointed to Percy. “He made me lie.”

She was dragged out of the hall, screaming and crying. When the door closed behind her, John considered his barons.

Neither Coswold nor Percy said a word. They waited to hear what their king would decide. Coswold worried the king would blame him for Isla’s conduct, and Percy worried his lands would be confiscated.

“Surely both of you are aware of the trouble I face these days. The nobles have been released from their oaths to me because of my excommunication. There is unrest and talk of conspiracy. I must be on guard day and night. Now one of my most powerful barons, Geoffrey of Wellingshire, will plot against me because of you, Coswold, in my name banished his daughter. At this moment Geoffrey surely is gathering his forces.”

“Kill him and be done with the worry,” Percy suggested.

“You fool. Geoffrey has many influential friends who will be as outraged as he is. They will join him in fighting me. Would you have me kill them all? And will you and Coswold pay their tax to me?”

“You know we cannot,” Percy said.

“I have enemies who aid Phillip of France. He would have my crown. I don’t need more problems.

Where is Lady Gabrielle now? Is she still alive?”

“I believe she is living with a clan high up north. They are a primitive group.”

“Do you know if any man has claimed her for his own?”

“No, but what would it matter? You could force her to come back to England,” Coswold said.

John shook his head. “You have taken my power over her away, you fool. When you announced that she has no country, you also announced that she does not answer to me.”

“But you could still force her—”

“Quiet.”

John considered the problem for several minutes before coming to a decision. “I must first make peace with Baron Geoffrey before he gathers allies against me. I will send word to him that I have found out the truth about his innocent daughter. Gabrielle will be given Finney’s Flat. If she isn’t married, I will find a suitable husband for her.”

“And if she is?” Coswold asked.

“Then Finney’s Flat will be my wedding gift to her.”

“Laird MacKenna would take her for his wife now that she has been proven innocent,” Coswold said.

The king stood. “I believe you did not have a part in this treachery of lies, Coswold. You will continue to be my humble servant. As for Percy, I think you should have time to consider your transgressions. He motioned to his guards. “Take him away.”

As Percy was being escorted out of the hall, Coswold stepped in front of him. Percy glowered at his enemy.

“This isn’t over,” he hissed.

Coswold smirked. “I think it is.” In a whisper, he added, “And I win.”
C
OLM WAS HEADING OUTSIDE TO GIVE ORDERS TO HISmen as Gabrielle was coming down the stairs.

“Good morning,” she called out. “It’s going to be a fine day today, isn’t it?” He stopped and waited for her to reach him. She was a bonny sight to be sure. Her gown was a royal blue, and though he would have preferred her to wear his colors, she still looked beautiful. Had they already been married, he knew exactly what he would do at this very moment. He would pick her up, carry her back to his bed, and take his time removing her clothes.

There was no way he was going to make it five more months without bedding her, and he decided that as soon as he returned home, he would order the priest to bless their union. When Colm first took her in, Brodick had suggested that Colm delay the marriage, warning that if Gabrielle got pregnant immediately after the wedding, some might believe the babe was from another man. Colm had another solution. He would know the babe was his and kill any man who suggested otherwise.

He thought about telling her now that he would marry her as soon as he returned, then changed his mind.

He’d explain while the priest prepared for the ceremony.

“Liam is in charge while I am away, and if you have any problems, go to him. He will know what to do,” he told her.

“May I ask where you are going?” Gabrielle said.

The question puzzled him. He had already made his intentions clear to her. Had she forgotten so soon?

“To war, Gabrielle.”

She nearly fell over. “
Now?
You’re going to war
now
?”

“Why do you act so surprised? I told you what I was going to do.” She grabbed his arm and held tight so that he wouldn’t get away from her until he had properly explained. “You said you were going to kill MacKenna.”

“Ah, so you do remember. Now let go of me so that I may—”

“You can’t just go to war, Colm.” Gabrielle couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had he gotten up this morning, eaten his breakfast, called his men to arms, and now thought he would ride into battle?

“You are not prepared.”

“How am I not prepared?”

Had he never gone to war before? Was that why he didn’t know what he was supposed to do?

“You haven’t declared war first,” she instructed. “Then you must spend weeks, if not months, on preparation. There are weapons to be made and packed in a wagon, food to pack as well to sustain your men during battle, and all other necessary equipment must be carefully placed in wagons and taken along for your comforts.”

He contained his laughter and asked, “Explain these necessary comforts to me.” She thought about what the nobles took with them when they went to war. “You will need a strong tent so that you will be sheltered from the rain, and a rug to place inside the tent so that you will not have to step barefoot on the hard ground when you get out of your bed.”

“And do I take my bed with me?”

“Some would.”

“What about wine? How many barrels should I take with me?”

“As many as you think you will need,” she said. “There are rules, Colm, even for you to follow. In a civilized war—”

“War is never civilized, and you have just described to me how the English prepare for war. By now you should have noticed that I am not English.”

“You still must prepare.”

“I have my sword, my bow, and a sound horse. I have no need for more.”

“Then I will pray that you finish your war before you get hungry or thirsty.” She tried to walk away, but he grabbed her and kissed her soundly.

“Will you come back to me?” she asked.

“I will.”

And then he was gone.

COLM AND HIS SOLDIERShad been gone from the holding for four days and nights when Lady Joan Dunbar arrived to pay her sister a visit.

Gabrielle was most curious to meet the woman Colm had intended to marry. She made up her mind that, no matter how pretty Joan was or how sweet her disposition, she would not be jealous of her. Colm obviously cared about the woman, or he wouldn’t have agreed to marry her. He might even have loved her. But Gabrielle would not be jealous.

Colm didn’t love Gabrielle. He had simply been trapped by a stupid debt. He never would have given her a second glance otherwise.

Did Joan love Colm? How could she not? He was a handsome, virile, strong man—a protector. And if Joan loved him, so what? Gabrielle still wouldn’t be jealous.

Perhaps she and Joan could even become friends. It would be nice to have a woman with whom to talk of matters that men would have no interest in. And she and Joan did have one thing in common: Colm.

Yes, they just might become friends.

But that was not to happen. After spending five minutes with the woman, Gabrielle knew they would never be friends. The reason was simple: Lady Joan was a bitch, and a mean one at that.

Fiona introduced her sister. Joan was much taller and thinner than Gabrielle. She didn’t seem to have many curves. She was more statuesque. Her hair was so long it touched her waist, and the color was as pale as her complexion. Long lashes fanned across her azure eyes. She was pretty, and she knew it.

Joan kept sweeping her hair over her shoulder with the back of her hand in a dramatic gesture meant to draw attention to her curls.

“This is Lady Gabrielle, Joan,” Fiona said. “I explained to her that you and Laird MacHugh were to marry and then Father formed an alliance with Laird Dunbar and forced you to marry him.” Joan stared at Gabrielle as she asked her sister, “Did you also explain that my husband is dead, and I am now free to marry Colm? And did you explain that I fully intend to do so?” Lady Joan didn’t get quite the reaction she expected. Gabrielle was so surprised by what she’d said, she burst into laughter.

“Stop laughing,” Joan demanded. “I haven’t said anything amusing.”

“I would offer you my condolences on the loss of your husband, but you seem to have gotten past mourning him.”

Joan wagged a finger at Gabrielle. “I’ve heard all about you.”

“It’s odd that I haven’t heard anything about you.”

“Maybe that’s because
I’m
not a whore.”

Gabrielle shrugged, and that action further incited Joan’s anger.

“Colm won’t marry a whore, and that’s what you are.”

Gabrielle knew that Joan wanted her to defend herself, but she wasn’t going to accommodate her.

“Enjoy your visit,” she said and then walked away.

That night, as Gabrielle was pulling the covers back, she thought about Joan and what she had said.

One day, after she was married to Colm, she would tell him she had saved him from a fate worse than death. Aye, she’d saved him from Joan.

T
HE WAR WASN’T CIVILIZED. IT WAS BLOODY AND HARD-FOUGHT.

MacHugh made no pretense of a surprise attack. He had made sure that MacKenna knew he was coming by sending word to surrounding clans that he was ready to avenge his brother.

When the news reached the MacKenna holding, the laird rallied his soldiers to battle, but he hadn’t had time to call his allies. He swore that the MacHughs would never step foot on MacKenna land.

MacKenna would meet the enemy head-on and make the first strike.

MacKenna never varied his strategy, believing what had worked in the past would work again. He would strike and retreat, again and again, with wave after wave of assaults. Although his men weren’t as well-trained, they were twice in number, and he could move fresh troops in after each wave. He had another advantage as well: his archers. As the MacHughs poured down the mountain and crossed the flats, there would be no place to hide. Even if they managed to reach the border of the flats, his archers would be waiting to finish them off.

Colm counted on MacKenna’s stupidity.

It never occurred to Laird MacKenna that the MacHughs could cross the flats in the dark. Even fools would never try to ride across what they could not see. Without light, their horses could stumble and falter. But the MacHughs didn’t ride their horses, they silently led them across. By morning light they had made a wide circle and were in position behind their enemy. They advanced, forcing the MacKennas to engage in battle or run. Most of them ran.

Once they flushed the MacKennas into the open, they fought with their swords and with their fists. The battle was quickly won, for the MacKennas fought like the cowards they were. One even tried to use another as a shield against MacHugh’s sword. Colm killed them both with one hard thrust, his blade cutting through two bodies just below their hearts.

Colm was always the first to go into battle. He led his men. MacKenna was always the last, fighting only when there was little actual danger of getting killed.

Bodies covered the field like rushes. Every dead MacKenna was turned over in search of the laird. But he was not to be found. Colm stood in the middle of the carnage, his sword dripping MacKenna blood, enraged that MacKenna had slipped away.