Bound to a Warrior (21 page)

D
uncan lay spent, Mercy spread naked over him.

“It certainly worked,” he said with a laugh. “I'm not agitated anymore, but I am famished.”

Mercy raised her head off his chest and grinned at him. “So am I.”

He slapped her naked bottom gently. “Then let's eat.”

They scampered out of bed, Mercy reaching for her blouse. He snatched it out of her hands.

“I like you just the way you are.”

“The room holds a chill,” she protested rubbing her arms.

He grabbed his plaid and wrapped it around her shoulders, though left her breasts partially exposed. “Better?”

“Much,” she said and hurried to the table.

They took seats opposite each other and Mercy began munching on a variety of foods. Duncan poured them wine, then rested back in the chair. He had much he
wished to discuss with her, but for the moment he simply wanted to enjoy the sight of her.

Her dark hair was tousled from their vigorous lovemaking and her neck and breasts were dotted with love bites that already were beginning to fade. God, but he loved this woman.

“Eat,” she urged with a sweet laugh, shoving a thick piece of cheese at him. “You claimed you were hungry.”

“I am,” he said snatching it from her, though he didn't tell her that it was she he hungered for all the time.

“What did the soldiers want?” she asked.

He was glad she asked for they needed to talk. “You.”

“But you already told them I wouldn't be returning to my father.”

“For some insane reason they thought I might have changed my mind.”

“I wonder what my father wants from me,” she said.

“I was thinking the same. Perhaps you have something that belongs to him.”

“No,” Mercy said, shaking her head. “I left with only the clothes I wore. And Mother had no intentions of bringing anything more than a satchel. Mother always planned everything. So I knew when she frantically began throwing things in a satchel and demanding I leave and wait at the river's edge, a favorite place of mine, that her decision had been made in haste and out of necessity.”

“You didn't ask her why?”

She rolled her eyes. “I never dared question her au
thority. Repercussions could be swift and painful.”

“Do you know if she angered your father and worried over the consequences?”

“I know they had recently argued over me, and while I wasn't privy to the heated discussion, my mother's mumblings gave me a good indication as to why she was upset.”

“Why?” he asked, eager to know.

“I believe my father had made arrangements for me to become mistress to a nobleman of not very high status or wealth.”

“He intended to give you away to a man?” Duncan asked, slowly moving forward in his seat.

“I imagine it was a lucrative agreement for my father.”

“He intended to just give you to a man without thought or consideration?” he said, anger building with every word he spoke.

“I am his bastard daughter. He can do as he pleases with me. Ignore me if he wished. I'm sure he felt he was doing best for me.”

“You defend him?”

“No. Not at all. I didn't want to be mistress to a man I never met. I never wanted to be a mistress at all. I saw what it had done to my mother and I did not want the same for myself. But truly what choice did I have? I had no money.”

“What of your mother? She sounded like a wise woman. Surely she had managed to tuck away extra coins.”

Mercy nodded. “She did, but spent most of it on her own plan for me.”

“And what plan was that?”

“She would not detail it for me, but I surmised that she searched for the true king with intentions of seeing that I became his mistress.”

“Did she find him?” Duncan asked anxiously, believing that the pieces of the puzzle were about to fall into place.

“From her excitement and fear I believe she discovered something, but what I don't know.”

“Who did she fear?”

“Since she rushed me away from the house, I'd say she feared that she had learned that my father had discovered her betrayal and that soldiers were on the way.”

“How would she have known?”

“My mother had many spies in various places,” Mercy said. “There wasn't much she couldn't find out.”

“And she gave you no indication of what she may have discovered?”

Mercy thought a moment. “Come to think of it, just as I was leaving the cottage, she grabbed my arm and said something odd to me.”

Duncan felt every muscle grow taut, worried that somehow her mother had uncovered secret information concerning the true king.

“She said, ‘You will see it in his eyes and know.'”

Duncan rubbed his chin, trying to make sense of it, but unable to. “Know what?”

Mercy shrugged. “I have no idea what she was referring to. She traced a symbol in the palm of my hand and muttered something.”

“Show me,” Duncan said and held his hand out to her.

She cupped it in hers and faintly drew a cross in the palm of his hand, then pressed her thumb in the center. “I remember,” she said softly. “When two are one, it will be done.”

Duncan eased his hand out of hers and refilled his tankard. He didn't trust himself to speak. How Mercy's mother had discovered the secret symbol and words known only to the true king, and those few known to him since he was young, astounded him.

She could have only learned them from one in the inner circle. But who? Who would betray the true king? And why to this woman?

“I had forgotten that, but then everything had been done in such haste and confusion. I was sitting looking over a piece of hide with drawings on it I had found in mother's sewing basket when I went looking for thread and needle in her sitting room. That's where mother found me when she had rushed into the cottage and told me that we were leaving right there and then. We had not a moment to waste.”

“A piece of hide with drawings on it?” Duncan asked.

“Yes. It was strange and old. Mother grabbed it from me and threw it into the hearth. The flames consumed it with haste.”

“Do you remember the drawings?”

“No,” she said and reached for an apple.

Duncan turned silent. He was sure the old piece of hide was where it had always been, safely tucked away in a chest in the solar. But she had called the hide strange and old and that was always how he and his brothers referred to it.

“You have asked me many questions and I have answered them. Now it's my turn,” Mercy said.

“Ask,” he said and fought the urge to go see if the piece of hide was where it had always been.

“Why do the soldiers not attack?”

“We outnumber them and they know it. Besides the king to the north holds no favor for your father and would send his sizable forces to help us.”

“But he had accepted my father as ruling king.”

“He had no choice. Your father claimed the ruling throne and there was nothing he could do unless he declared war and shed his clansmen's blood. He did what many chose to do. Wait for the true king to appear and claim his rightful title.”

“You fight for the true king?”

“Aye, I do.”

“This land,” she said. “Who does it belong to?”

“I am told the true king of Scotland. It is here the warriors are trained and made ready for battle.”

Mercy stared at him, her eyes turning wide. “And you brought the daughter of the present king to the true king's stronghold?”

“No. I brought the woman I love there.”

He hadn't expected complete silence from her. She seemed to freeze, and he had to admit he hadn't planned to blurt it out like that, or admit it just yet. But for some insane reason, it had simply spilled from his lips.

It seemed that the more they had talked, the more he felt her slipping away from him and he wouldn't have it. He wouldn't lose her, he couldn't. He loved her, loved her beyond any reasonable breath of sanity.

“Say something,” he demanded.

“I know you love,” she said softly. “And I love you. I never doubted that we loved each other even though we never spoke the words. It took me a moment to realize that you actually spoke them aloud. I usually hear you say them in my thoughts and dreams, and so hearing you say it aloud shocked me.”

He smiled. “I shocked myself.”

“Why did you choose to tell me now?” she asked reaching her hand across the table to him.

He quickly took hold of it. It fitted so comfortably, so right as it always did, as if the heavens had crafted them that way.

“With all that has happened between us and all that is yet to come, I didn't want to waste a moment. I wanted you to know how I felt. How I would always feel about you.” He grinned. “You stole my heart.”

She laughed softly. “No. You gave it to me as I gave you mine.”

He stood, though didn't let go of her hand and walked
around the table. He lifted her in his arms, kissing her, and then walked to the bed. He placed her down, covering her with his body.

“I'm going to make love to you,” he whispered in between kisses.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. “All night. Make love to me all night.”

 

A couple of hours later exhaustion claimed Mercy, but not Duncan. He eased her out of his arms and slipped on his plaid. He quietly closed the door behind him and made his way down to the solar.

The piece of hide hadn't left his mind. It had remained in the recesses of his thoughts and had risen to torment him after Mercy had fallen asleep. He had to make certain for himself that it was still there. It was important to the king and only he knew its hidden meaning.

It was late and no doubt all were in their beds. Still, he took cautious and quiet steps down to the solar, a chill running up his legs from his bare feet, since he hadn't taken time to slip on his boots.

When no one was in attendance the room was kept locked, the key hidden beneath a stone in the stone floor. Duncan retrieved it, unlocked the door and slipped in, easing the door closed behind him.

He took a candle from atop the mantel and held it close enough to the hearth's flames for the wick to light. He then walked over to the corner where a large chest was tucked. He opened it and rummaged around until
he found a small chest. He lifted it and tucked it beneath his arm to carry over to the table, where he sat it and the candle.

The chest had no lock. There was no need. Few people knew of its existence. He hesitated a moment, his hand on the latch.

Two raps sounded at the door, causing Duncan to jump, though he bid the person enter since he had given the appropriate signal.

Duncan grinned and left the chest to go greet his brother Bryce.

They grasped hands and hugged, Duncan slapping him on the back.

“Did you only arrive?” Duncan asked and seeing the fatigue in his eyes, he knew that his brother had pushed to get home, just as they all did.

“Aye, though the journey was long, it was fruitful. I have much to share, though it will wait until morning. I was seeking the peace and comfort of my bed when I approached the second floor and thought I heard someone at the solar door.”

“And you were right.”

“What are you doing here at this late hour?” Bryce asked.

“It would take me too long to explain what brought me here and you are tired. But I have good reason to be here this late. I wish to make certain that the strange and old piece of hide with the drawings is still where it has always been.”

“Why would you think—”

Duncan shook his head. “Don't ask. I'm probably wrong, but I need to prove it to myself.”

“Then let's do it.”

The brothers walked over to the table, the flickering flames casting shadows over the small chest, making it appear as if claws were laying claim to it.

Both stood for a moment staring at it, as if neither wanted to open it. The piece had always been treated with reverence, even though only one knew its true worth.

Bryce nodded to Duncan, as if telling him that it was time to be done with this, and Duncan agreed with a nod of his own.

Duncan opened the latch and threw back the lid.

Both men stood staring.

The chest was empty.

M
ercy woke alone and with scattered thoughts. Her musings jumped from delight to worry and she had no idea what she would do. Her heart soared and she laughed, recalling how Duncan had told her how he loved her. He had blurted it out so unexpectedly that he had not only shocked her, but himself.

She loved that he had done that, not giving thought, simply saying what he felt. It meant so much more hearing it like that from him. Making love just afterward made it seem as if they sealed their love, claiming it forever theirs.

That moment was forever etched in her memory, and while she would have preferred to have it followed with thoughts of a happy future together with Duncan, there were too many things that stood in the way.

She, being daughter to the present king, and he fighting for the true king were the largest looming threats to their happiness, not to mention Bailey's dire situation. So while it was grand being in love, she worried that their love
would never see fruition. That they would never wed, never have children, never share a life together.

Mercy stretched herself out of bed, concerned by what step she should take next. Having spoken last night with Duncan about her mother brought back memories more clearly. She had forgotten what her mother had said and done, though she certainly couldn't berate herself over it.

It had been a day she would have rather not remembered. She had never seen her mother look so frantic. Her eyes had been wide with fear and instead of her usual impeccable appearance, she appeared disheveled, her brow perspiring, almost as if she had run a distance.

She had never thought her mother had ever run, but that day it looked as if she had run out of fright, or perhaps for her life.

Mercy shivered and hurried to dress, though she couldn't get her mother's wide-eyed, glaring expression out of her mind. She even recalled her mother shaking her and insisting that she obey every word. That Mercy was to go and stay at the river's edge and not move,
dare not move
, until she came for her.

She hadn't told Duncan all her mother had said to her after she had drawn the symbol on her palm. She didn't want to. She felt her mother's words were meant for her and her alone and she intended to keep it that way.

After her mother had drawn the symbol she had said, “I'm sorry, Mercy. I'm so very sorry.”

Mercy had assumed her mother's apology had been
for her plan that had gone terribly wrong and placed her daughter in harm's way. And she was grateful her mother had acknowledged her regret, since it made Mercy feel that her mother truly had loved her.

She only wished that her mother hadn't suffered for her own folly. But that was behind her now, in the past, and her mother had told her that the past was best left in the past. Right now she had to consider Bailey's predicament and what to do about it.

She could keep silent and simply return to her father, but somehow she wondered if that was the right choice. Her father had never shown her any particular favor, let alone love. She had learned at a very early age that if she did as he asked, he treated her well. Do something that displeased him, and he wasn't so kind.

Had her father assumed she had joined in her mother's plan, or had he found out that she had no knowledge of it? And could he truly be trusted to free Bailey's wife Kate? Or had she already suffered her fate?

There was a rap at the door just as she finished dressing.

Mercy bid the person entrance as she slipped on her boots.

Mara entered, shutting the door behind her.

Mercy stood. She liked Mara and she wanted no bad feelings between them. So she offered an apology.

“I am sorry for the way I spoke to you,” Mercy said. “And very sorry for claiming power I do not have.”

Mara grinned. “But you do have it, lassie. You are
daughter to the king, bastard or not, and you have the power to speak as you did.”

“I meant no disrespect.”

“I know that, or else I would have handled it differently,” Mara said with a twinkle in her eye.

“I want us to be friends,” Mercy said. She truly liked Mara and admired how she combined her blunt nature with a smile.

“We are,” Mara claimed, “and always will be.”

“Then you forgive me?”

“Noting to forgive, lassie,” Mara insisted. “I came to fetch you for breakfast.”

“I haven't missed it then?” Mercy asked. “I feared I slept through it and I'm famished.”

“Then you best hurry. Those lads of mine usually don't leave a single scrap.”

Mercy smiled and followed Mara out the door. It felt good being included in the family. There was more than enough reason for them not to want her around, reason to be rid of her, and yet they welcomed her. Even with all the problems she presented, they treated her kindly. She may have arrived here only recently, but it was easy to see that these were good people.

And people her father would sooner see dead.

Mercy spotted Duncan as soon as she and Mara entered the great hall. To her, he stood out among the men. It wasn't merely his size, which was considerable, there was much more. He had a commanding presence about him and a sharp intelligence. Combine both and
it was obvious to see that leading came easy to him.

A crack of thunder sounded outside and a fierce wind whipped around the keep in a whistle-like sound, causing Mercy to rub her chilled arms.

A storm brewed, not a good omen at all, Mercy thought, and so she wore a tentative smile, not sure that it fit the moment. The brothers and their father were gathered around a table not far from the hearth.

She was familiar with all who were there except one man. His back was to her and it was wide, his shirt taut as if it didn't quite fit him. Long dark hair fell past his wide shoulders and when he raised his heavy tankard, she saw that his thick hand palmed it and held firm, not an easy feat without strength.

The men stood when they saw the women approach and moved, offering them seats, and then the men settled around the two women, though not before the stranger gave Mara a kiss.

“You should have woken me last night when you got home,” Mara scolded with a grin, then turned to Mercy. “This is my son Bryce.”

Mara claimed the four her own, though Trey was the only son she had born. And the way her eyes brightened when she looked upon all four would make an observer think she had labored to bring each one into the world, her love was that obvious.

“Hello,” Bryce said.

Mercy took a moment to respond since there was something about this man that captured the attention.
He certainly had fine features, even handsome ones, but it wasn't that, or the size of him, which was quite large. He was a fine specimen of a Highlander warrior, and yet he seemed much more.

“A pleasure to meet you,” she finally said.

“The pleasure is mine,” he replied. “You truly are a beauty.”

“Thank you,” she said a bit flustered and leaned against Duncan, who slipped his arm around her.

“Aren't you going to threaten to beat him?” Reeve asked Duncan.

“Why?”

“You threatened me when I called Mercy a beauty.”

“You say it differently than Bryce,” Duncan said.

“I do not,” Reeve protested.

“Duncan's got you on that one,” Trey said.

“I agree,” Bryce said with a laugh.

“Enough,” Mara scolded. “You'll have the poor lassie thinking that you do nothing but argue.”

“They argue,” Reeve said pointing at his brothers. “I don't since I'm the one who's always right.”

“Shall we refresh his memory?” Bryce said, looking to his brothers.

“You'll not be talking of your antics in front of Mercy,” Mara warned. “You'll have her running in fright.”

Mercy chuckled, enjoying the teasing banter that continued through the meal as stories were exchanged about when the four were just young lads. She didn't know how Mara had ever dealt with the many things
the four had gotten themselves into, though the woman's huge smile certainly indicated that she had enjoyed the challenges her sons had presented.

She wouldn't mind having a similar experience, whether sons or daughters, it would be nice to have her own family. She had no doubt that Duncan would make a good father.

Bailey would too
.

The sudden thought wiped the smile from her face. She quickly forced its return, not wanting anyone to notice that something had disturbed her. But it did and deeply. Here she sat, sharing funny and endearing stories about family while Bailey sat worrying over the safety of his.

Mercy waited for a loll in the conversation and asked, “Have the soldiers taken their leave yet?”

“No, they intend to wait a few days to see if we change our minds and hand you over to them,” Duncan said and laughed. “Something that will never happen.”

“What if they force your hand?” she asked.

“How so?” Bryce asked.

Mercy shrugged, not sure, but knowing her father a shrewd man. She saw it in his dealings with her mother, who was just as shrewd. And she worried that they were sadly misjudging him. He certainly hadn't gained the throne through stupidity.

She finally voiced her concern. “He is king, isn't that enough?”

“This area of the Highlands did not fall under his rule
easily,” Bryce explained. “Unrest has continued since he took reign and he's wisely left it be.”

“Why?' Mercy asked.

“His armies were needed on the southern borders,” Trey said. “The English are seeking help.”

“It allowed the north time to regroup and grow strong,” Reeve added. “And now we are a force to reckon with, while his armies remain scattered.”

“Your father knows he does not have the troops he needs to conquer us,” Bryce said.

“That is why he searches for the true king,” Carmag said. “He is the hope of the people, and if your father kills the true king, he kills that hope and seals his rule.”

“But what do I have to do with all this?” she asked, shaking her head, more confused than ever over her part in it all. “I am merely his bastard daughter. Why be adamant about my return when he had previously wanted me dead?”

She noticed that Bryce and Duncan exchanged a knowing glance and gooseflesh prickled her skin. They knew something.

“That is something we need to find out, and we will,” Carmag assured her. “But right now it is time for daily reports.”

“Go,” Mara urged. “I shall show Mercy around the keep since it storms outside.”

Duncan looked to Mercy as if he questioned leaving her and it lightened her heart. “Go,” Mercy said. “I'd like to see more of your home.”

“Not only beautiful, but compliant,” Reeve said grinning.

“I'm going to beat you, Reeve,” Duncan warned.

Reeve laughed. “I'm shaking with fear.”

“You better be,” Duncan said and leaned down to give Mercy a quick kiss, then walked off with his brothers, the four of them bantering about beauty and beatings.

 

The bantering stopped once the solar door was closed. Duncan didn't waste a minute. He informed them all of what he and Bryce had learned last night, this being the first chance of privately discussing it.

“The piece of hide with drawings on it is gone.”

“What?” Reeve shouted.

“What do you mean?” Trey demanded.

“Are you sure?” Carmag asked.

“We discovered the theft last night,” Bryce explained.

“How?” Trey asked shaking his head. “We rarely view the piece. It is for the king's eyes.”

Duncan spoke up, explaining the exchange between him and Mercy, and how for some unexplainable reason, he immediately had thought about the hide buried at the bottom of the chest in the solar.

“I don't know why I thought the two connected, but I did,” Duncan said. “And to assuage my concern I came here and looked for myself.”

“And discovered it missing?” Reeve asked.

Duncan confirmed once again. “Yes, it's gone.”

“This is a problem,” Trey said. “The four of us and mother and father are the only ones who know where it is kept.”

“Do you suggest one of us a traitor?” Reeve barked.

“Nonsense,” Carmag said, stepping forward. “We have all worked hard toward a common goal and there is not one among us who would jeopardize that.”

“Then who took it?” Trey asked.

“That is something we will need to find out,” Carmag said.