Susan King - [Celtic Nights 01] (40 page)

She stepped away from the shelter of the Stone Maiden and stood, draped in her long plaid, a small twin to the stone. Sebastien reined in his horse. When Giric and the others slowed, he waved them on and walked his mount toward her.

She reached up to hold the horse's bridle while she looked at Sebastien. "I wanted to talk to you before you left," she said.

"If the weather concerns you, do not worry," he said. "We will be back shortly."

"It is not that. There is something I must say to you."

"The ride to Turroch is not far. We will discuss the king's terms there and return before the snow decides what sort of storm it wants to bring today." He smiled, his eyes as gray as the sky. "Go inside. It is not safe for you to be out here without a guard."

"Finan
Mor
is with me, and besides, I am always safe beside the Maiden," she said. He gave her a doubtful glance. "Get down from your horse," she said. "There is something I must do."

"What you can do is go back to the fortress as fast as you can. Finan, home," he ordered, pointing. "Take your mistress home."

"Finan, stay," she said. The dog whimpered and circled. "Do not torment him, sirrah," she told Sebastien. "He gives you his loyalty now as well as me. He wants to please us both. Get down from your horse. I need but a moment with you."

Sebastien lifted a brow laconically, then sighed and dismounted with a creak and jingle of mail and leather. He seemed to tower over her, and for a moment she remembered the first day she had spent time with him in the abbey church at Dunfermline, when he had stood like a guard of honor for her, patient and strong and beautiful.

"What?" he asked. She took his hand and drew him away from the horse, positioning him so that he faced the Stone Maiden.

"If you insist on meeting with Cormac, I must give you a charm of protection," she said.

"Alainna, all will be well, I need no—"

"Hush," she said. "This I must do, for myself as much as for you. I cannot watch you go to meet the MacNechtans without a
seun
to protect you." She squared his shoulders so that he faced the Maiden, then walked around him in a circle, sunwise, while she spoke.

A shield of mist I put on you

From heather and mountain

From sea and stone

From man and maiden

Till you return to me.

She placed her hand on his chest, the steel mesh cold beneath her palm. "No blade shall cut you, no arrow shall strike you, no fire shall burn you. Shield of angels around you, shield of faery. May you come back to me as you go out from me."

She closed her eyes and bowed her head, her hand flattened over his heart, and stood for a long moment in silence, with the cold wind soughing, damp with snow, around them.

When she opened her eyes, Sebastien was staring at her, his silvery gaze keen and deep. He framed her face in his fingers.

Silent, swift, he took her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. She arched her head back and felt her knees sway beneath her. He released her and stepped back, his gaze steady on hers.

"That," he said, "is my blessing for you." He turned and strode through the feathery snowfall, mounted his horse, and cantered away.

Alainna touched her fingers to her lips, watching him. By the time he reached his companions, the snow had blurred her view.

She could still feel the bond between them, like a silvery thread spinning out. And she felt the subtle strain upon it, and she grew suddenly, deeply afraid.

Chapter 25

Sebastien tossed the document down on the broad, scarred table surface. "Cormac. There is the king's message to you."

Cormac slid a glance around the dim hall, his own at Turroch, a longer and more spacious hall than that at Kinlochan. In the few minutes he and his companions had been here, Sebastien had already noted the dingy, neglected feel to the place, with filthy rushes, bowls of food still on the tables, several napping dogs, and a cat or two stalking mice in the shadowy corners.

The place definitely lacked a female presence and influence. Sebastien told himself that he would be damned before he would allow Cormac to take Alainna into a household like this.

Yet he knew that his own actions were all that stood in the way of Cormac marrying Alainna.

Frowning, he observed the others in the room who watched Cormac. Struan stood a few feet from his brother. Giric, Robert, and Lulach gathered behind Sebastien. Out in the bailey, he knew, fifteen knights waited inside the gate, armored and carrying weapons, with orders to attack should anything unwelcome happen.

A few of Cormac's kinsmen sat or stood on the other side of the stone hearth, a mean and motley guard, silent and rough-hewn in plaids and hide boots. Their weapons, at Sebastien's earlier suggestion, had been grudgingly laid aside on a table.

He hoped that he could rely on Highland hospitality, the strict tradition that dictated no harm could come even to an enemy inside another's walls. Struan had assured them of this upon their arrival, although Sebastien and the rest wanted to deliver the message, discuss what was necessary, and depart. He doubted Cormac would be so foolish as to attack the king's men as they delivered the king's message inside his own hall.

The edgy silence lingered. Cormac picked up the parchment, broke the seal, looked inside, and tossed it on the table. "I spent my boyhood days with weapons, not books. Read it."

Sebastien read its curt message aloud, then folded it. "The king commands Clan Laren and Clan Nechtan to put weapons and anger aside," he summarized. "Cease your aggression against these people or be cast out of your lands and put to fire and sword. In addition, I am to report to the crown any suspected ties between Celtic lords in this vicinity and Celtic rebels."

"What of Clan Laren?" Cormac asked. "They are kin to one of the rebels, which we are not. Surely you suspect them, and will cast them out of their lands."

"Clan Laren has cooperated with the king's wishes," Sebastien answered. "As for the rest, the king awaits my word and my report. One of the questions that needs a clear answer is which Celtic lords in this region are loyal to the crown and which are not. Clan Laren has established its loyalty. Prove the fealty of your clan and you will benefit."

"We can prove that," Struan said. "We have never supported the rebellion, though we know men who do."

"True," Cormac said. "In fact, we know them so well that I can give you the heart of the rebellion itself, if you wish."

Sebastien narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Ruari
Mor
MacWilliam," Cormac said. "I know where he is."

"He is dead," Lulach growled.

"He is hardly dead." Cormac smiled slowly. "I have seen the man myself and spoken with him recently."

"You have seen him?" Sebastien demanded. "Where?"

"He has been here at Turroch a few times in the past weeks. I gave him a sleeping pallet by my hearth. He came from Ireland to muster support for his clan's cause against the king."

Sebastien shot a quick glance at Giric, who glared stonily at Cormac from an otherwise impassive face. "When was he here last?" Sebastien asked Cormac.

"Two days ago," Struan said. "You have seen him yourself. He fought those wolves to save Eoghan and Lileas."

Sebastien turned to Giric. "You knew," he hissed in a low voice. "Alainna knew."

Giric looked away, but Sebastien understood the unspoken affirmative. He realized that Alainna had deliberately kept the truth from him to protect Ruari. Esa knew, too, and Giric. He wondered how many of them knew, and had kept silent.

He felt betrayed, like a blade to the heart.

Certes, he thought. Alainna had said there was a ruin there, and he had seen her rowing a boat on the loch. Anger and dismay rolled through him. They had not trusted him. They had kept him out of their secrets—with reason, he admitted to himself. They respected and loved Ruari, and Sebastien had been sent to find him, even to kill him.

He could not help but wonder what else they hid from him. If Clan Laren supported the Celtic rebellion against the king, he must report them, even arrest their chief, as ludicrous as the idea seemed.

Cormac smiled. "Ruari saved Eoghan, so I gave him shelter here. He went to Kinlochan to see his wife, did you know that? He hinted that they meet secretly there."

Sebastien felt trust and hope fall away from him like a collapsed scaffold, taking the buttress of their friendship and the sense of family that he had felt from Alainna's people. He looked at Giric again and scowled.

Giric shook his head. "Only we two knew," he murmured. "It was only to help Ruari. For no other reason. I swear to you that she is loyal. We are all loyal to the crown."

Sebastien looked away, wanting to believe that, but unsure.

Cormac's dark eyes glittered. "I see you did not know. Well enough, now you do. And I can deliver Ruari to you, as the king requires."

"What guarantee do I have that you are not a traitor as well?" Sebastien asked.

"I am not so foolish as to follow Guthred MacWilliam. He claims a right to the throne, but he is a hotheaded young fool. He does not deserve the fine ancient blood that courses through his veins. Ruari follows his lead like a dog to a master, no matter that the master is worthless."

"Ruari
Mor
is no follower," Lulach said. "If he is alive, and in the Highlands, he works for his own purpose, and not that of a pup."

"Your kinsman's heroic deeds have blinded you to his treacheries," Cormac said abruptly. He turned to Sebastien. "Ruari believes that he has my support and the strength of my clan behind the MacWilliams. Of course," he said smoothly, "I would not commit treason."

Giric laughed outright, a bitter and skeptical sound.

"Where is Ruari now?" Sebastien asked.

"I do not know. But he will be here in a day or so, and then, if you wish, you may have him."

Sebastien tensed. Behind him, his companions were like tightly drawn bows, even Robert, who understood little of the Gaelic conversation and relied on Giric's hurried whispers.

"We will speak alone," Sebastien said, motioning for the others to retreat to the door. They cast him dark looks and shuffled back only a step. He moved closer to Cormac, trying not to inhale the man's unwashed, meaty odor.

"What price for this?" Sebastien asked, although he knew the answer he would hear.

"You want Ruari MacWilliam. I want Alainna of Kinlochan. Promise me that Alainna will be my wife, as her father once agreed. Gain for me the king's word—I know you can get it—that Kinlochan will be mine."

"And then?"

"Then I will give you Ruari MacWilliam, and in so doing, give the king the entire rebellion. Ruari is the key," Cormac said. "He is Guthred's most trusted kinsman. Ruari knows all their plans."

Sebastien's gaze trained hard and unwavering on Cormac.

"Do this, Sebastien le Bret, and you will be the most powerful Norman knight in all of Scotland. The king will reward you—and me." He smiled, his teeth, at close view, gray and broken. "Think what the king will give you in return for this. Kinlochan is nothing compared to what he will grant you. One of the Celtic earldoms, perhaps. Whatever you desire."

Sebastien stared at him. Like the proverbial demon crouched on a dying man's bedpost, Cormac had found the pulse of his ambition, the hub of what he wanted, and laid before him the devil's own temptation.

"The king's sister is the duchess of Brittany, I hear," Cormac said. "King William need say but a word to her, and you will receive honors in Brittany for saving her homeland. Land wealth, a bride—a duchess, perhaps even a princess. With the king of Scotland and the duchess of Brittany in your debt, you will have all you could ever want."

Sebastien narrowed his eyes. He expected ambition to ' swell within him and drown his reasoning. He waited for the hard, swift current of material desire that had carried him forward for years to sweep through him.

He felt nothing. He did not want the promised boons that Cormac dangled before him.

He wanted Alainna. He wanted to be part of her clan. Yet he felt as if they had shut him out and betrayed him by protecting Ruari.