Shadow Music (7 page)

“Who the hell is he?” Colm asked.

Brodick shook his head. “I’ve never seen him before.”

Colm jerked the arrow from the dead man’s chest. “Is this a Buchanan arrow?”

“No. I thought it was yours.”

“MacKenna’s behind this,” he said.

Brodick shook his head. “Those aren’t his soldiers on the ground, and this isn’t one of their arrows. The markings…I’ve never seen one like this before. There’s no sign of MacKenna here.” He picked up a piece of rope. There was blood on it. “They tied your brother with this.”

“I still think this is somehow MacKenna’s doing,” Colm insisted.

“Without proof, you cannot accuse him,” Brodick reasoned.

“Liam couldn’t have gotten far.” Colm scanned the woods surrounding them. “We’ll keep looking until we find him and whoever has him.”

“The Buchanans are with you,” Brodick pledged. “As long as it takes to avenge this black-hearted deed.”

The two lairds divided their men into smaller units to scour the area, but after hours of searching, each group reported that they had thoroughly covered the flats and the forests, but to no avail.

Liam MacHugh had vanished into thin air.

L
IAM MACHUGH WAS IN SORRY SHAPE.SOMEONE HAD TAKEN a whip to his back, and his skin had been shredded into bloody ribbons. His legs and the bottoms of his feet had also taken a beating, and blood dripped from the deep gash on the right side of his head.

Gabrielle knew she could get help for the warrior at Arbane Abbey, and though she was in a hurry to get there, the injured man’s immediate needs came first.

They rode along the bank of the stream until they were far enough away from the fighting to stop.

Stephen lifted the lifeless body of Liam MacHugh from his horse and placed him on the ground next to Gabrielle. She gently laid his head in her lap and pressed a cloth to the wound at his temple, trying to stop the bleeding, and then she quickly cleaned the other cuts as best she could with a strip of linen she’d torn from her undergarment and dipped in cold water. The man needed medicine to ward off infection and a soothing salve for his back. He also needed someone to put a needle and thread to him to pull together the ragged edges of skin around the gash. She didn’t want to be the one to sew him back together, for she didn’t wish to cause him any more pain.

The turn of the stream was tucked in between the pines a fair distance away from Finney’s Flat. They were isolated and she hoped safe from intruders. While Lucien and Faust guarded the area, Stephen and Christien stayed close to her. Just as she was about to call for her guards to move him, Liam’s head wound started bleeding again.

“Princess, you’ve got blood all over your gown,” Stephen remarked.

“I’m not bothered by it,” she replied. “But I worry about this poor man. He’s lost so much blood.”

“I don’t think he’s going to make it,” Christien said. “And we should be prepared for that possibility.

What would you have us do with the body?”

Gabrielle wasn’t shocked by Christien’s bluntness. He wasn’t being callous. He was a compassionate man, but he was also the most pragmatic of the four guards.

“If he dies, then it is God’s will, but I will do everything in my power to help him survive.”

“As will we,” Stephen assured her. “However, Christien has made a valid point. This MacHugh warrior has not seen you.”

Her smile was gentle. “How could he? He has yet to open his eyes.”

“You don’t understand our meaning,” Christien said. “You could be in great danger.” Stephen agreed. “We don’t know who these people are or if any of them may have seen us. Your arrow killed the leader of the men at the grave, but the others got away. If they find out you’re responsible for his death, they might seek revenge. No one must ever know you were there.” Gabrielle glanced around at the somber faces of her four guards and realized Stephen was right. But it wasn’t for her safety alone that she was concerned. If the men at Finney’s Flat found out she had killed one of their own, they wouldn’t just come after her; they would retaliate against her guards as well. She couldn’t let that happen.

“What do you propose I do?” she asked.

“When we get closer to Arbane Abbey, Lucien and Faust will accompany you inside and escort you to your quarters,” Stephen suggested.

“You could use your cloak to hide the blood on your gown,” Christien said.

“And what of this injured man?” she asked.

“We’ll find another way to get him into the abbey. The monks will surely have the medicine he needs.” Christien nodded. “If he dies, there is the possibility that Laird MacHugh might blame you. You heard what those cowards said about him.”

“They called him ruthless,” she said. “Yet they were going to bury an innocent man alive. Why would I believe a word any of them said?”

She stopped them before they could argue. “This man is now our responsibility. I won’t hand him over to anyone. We will all find a way into the abbey that will not draw attention. Only when I am assured that he is well cared for will I leave his side.”

“But Princess—” Christien began.

She continued. “These monks are men of God, are they not? I will simply ask them to keep silent as to how Liam came to be at the abbey. If I can get them to promise, they cannot and will not break their word.”

“There are other ramifications,” Stephen said. “You cannot get in the middle of a war.” She knew they weren’t going to let up. “We shall compromise. Once Liam is safe and looked after, I will separate myself.”

“And you will tell no one what happened?”

“I will tell no one.”

I
T WAS SURPRISINGLY EASY TO GET INSIDE THE ABBEY UNSEEN. Not only was the door on the south end of the curtain wall that surrounded the monastic buildings unlatched, but it was also propped open. A priest had placed a stone in front of the door so that it would be easier for him to carry in bags of grain from the wagon across the path.

Gabrielle and her guards watched him from the cover of the trees behind the abbey. She thought the bags looked like they weighed more than the priest did. He wasn’t quite an old man yet, possibly still in his early forties, she guessed, but he didn’t have much muscle. He first tried to put the bag on one shoulder, nearly toppled over, and ended up wrapping his arms around the middle of the bag and letting the bottom drag between his legs.

Reining her horse into the open, she called out to him. “Father, would you allow some help?” He was at first startled, and then he nodded vigorously. “I would be most thankful for assistance,” he called out.

Lucien and Faust had already dismounted and were headed to the wagon. Lucien noticed how the priest struggled under the weight of the bag and took it from him. “Where would you like this?” he asked.

“Just inside the door on the left is a storage building. If you stack the grain there, I would be most appreciative.” He pulled a cloth from the belt of his robes and mopped the sweat from the back of his neck. Smiling, he started toward Gabrielle. “Welcome, I’m Father Gelroy.” He’d just crossed the path when he noticed the injured man draped across Stephen’s saddle.

“What have we here?” he demanded. He rushed to Stephen’s side to get a better look, and he was so shocked by the man’s condition he made a hasty sign of the cross. “What happened to this poor fellow?

Is he alive?”

“He is,” Christien answered.

Stephen dismounted and lifted Liam into his arms. “This man is in need of assistance as you can clearly see. Is there a healer here?”

“Aye, there is, and more than one,” he answered in a rush. “Come. Follow me.” Lucien and Faust made quick work of unloading the grain. Gabrielle dismounted and handed the reins to Lucien.

The priest hurried to the door ahead of them. “Does this man have a name?” Gabrielle answered. “His name is Liam MacHugh.”

Father Gelroy’s reaction was swift. He came to such an abrupt stop he actually swayed, then whirled around. His expression was one of disbelief, and the color had disappeared from his face.

“Did I hear you say MacHugh?” He was so rattled, he’d shouted the question. “Tell me I didn’t, but did I?”

“Father, please, lower your voice,” Stephen instructed.

The priest put his hand to his forehead. Gabrielle noticed it trembled.

“My God. You’ve got Liam MacHugh and he’s barely alive. If he dies…” Gabrielle stepped forward. “We are hopeful with the healer’s help he won’t die,” she said quietly.

Father Gelroy forced himself to calm down. “Yes, yes, we must all be hopeful,” he stammered. “I’ll tell you this. There will be hell to pay if he dies. Quickly now. Inside with him. The room next to mine is empty. We’ll put him in there. Once I’ve shown you the way I’ll go in search of Father Franklin. He’s more skilled, I believe, than the others.”

Lucien and Faust stayed with the horses while Stephen and Christien, carrying Liam, followed Gabrielle and the priest into the abbey. The corridor he led them down was dark, narrow, and smelled like the inside of a wet cave. All the doors were of dry splintered wood in arched frames. Father nodded to one as he rushed past and said, “That’s my room.”

He stopped in front of the next door, gently rapped on it with his knuckles to make certain it was still unoccupied, and then lifted the latch. He pushed the door, stepped inside, and held it open for them.

The room was tiny, with a small window set high above a wooden pallet that served as a bed. A gray wool blanket covered the straw mattress. A stool and a small chest were the room’s only other pieces of furniture. A water bowl and pitcher flanked by two candles sat on top of the chest.

“Put him on the bed. Gently now,” the priest said. “Let him sleep on his side so his back…good Lord, his poor back…” He took a breath and slowly let it out. “I believe Father Franklin is at vespers. I’ll tell him to bring his medicines. When I come back, I’ll fetch my stole and oils and give Liam MacHugh the last rites.”

Gabrielle protested. “But that sacrament is only for those who are dying.”

“Can you tell me he isn’t dying?”

She bowed her head. “Nay, I cannot.”

“Then he must have the sacrament of Extreme Unction so that he can go to heaven unblemished.” He turned to leave, but Christien stepped in front of the door, blocking his exit.

“Father, it would be for the better if no one knew how this man came to be here.”

“Then I must first know if any of you had anything to do with his injuries. It’s a foul question, but I must have an answer.”

“He was in this condition when we came upon him,” Christien told him.

“I thought as much, for why else would you carry such a burden?” the priest returned. “I promise you I won’t be saying a word to anyone about Laird MacHugh’s brother, but I would like to know what happened.”

“Will you keep our confidence as well?” Christien asked. “It would be for the better if you don’t know who we are.”

The priest shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. The second I saw this beautiful lady I knew who she was. There have been whispers of her coming for weeks now.” He turned to her and bowed low. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Gabrielle. Have no worries, for if I am introduced to you in the future, I will be pleased to meet you then as though for the first time. Your secrets are safe with me.”

“Thank you, Father,” she said, but she doubted he heard her, for he had already rushed out of the room.

“It’s time for you to leave, Princess,” Stephen said.

Christien nodded agreement. “Aye, it’s time.”

The two guards looked worried, and she was sorry to disappoint them.

“I cannot leave him just yet. He’s too vulnerable. Someone must watch over him while he is in this weakened state. Before I go, I must be certain that he is in capable hands and that he has the proper medicines.”

She wouldn’t be swayed. The argument that Father Franklin would be one more man they would have to trust to keep their confidence wasn’t valid in her opinion. Father Franklin was also a man of God and would not break the promise they would get from him.

“The more people who know, the better the chance of the trail leading back to the man you killed…” Stephen began.