Knight of the Highlander (9 page)

But then hadn't Arywnn said her father agreed to allow her a prize as well, a measure of freedom, if she were to succeed in finding the traitor? Surely he wouldn't lie to his own flesh? Shaking his head in fury, Colin pieced together the puzzle. Something must have made Rian and the Chattan Chief certain they knew the spy's identity. But what? His previous suspicion that someone from England had sent word flamed to life once again. That was the only explanation, wasn't it?

He sighed heavily and focused on Rian's retreating form. Just when Rian was out of sight, Colin began to ease from the dark. Through the deserted streets he lurked in the shadows as he followed Rian's stumbling silhouette. When he arrived at the back entrance to the keep, Colin waited. Rian knocked six times in quick succession, and then slumped against the door. It opened, and he fell forward into a man's arms. The man grunted against the weight then shoved him away. Rian groaned, then followed the man inside.

Colin regarded the stone structure of the keep. From the side, he could easily climb into the broken away turret that would give him a small window into the Laird's study. With a quick glance around to ensure that no one was out, he rushed the building, jumping and placing his hands on the jagged stones. Hoisting himself and climbing the wall diagonally, he continually glanced back from his vulnerable position. He swung himself into the smaller hole, and carefully crept over the rubble and down the heavily sloped stairs. Quietly he bent down and placed his ear over the small hole that gave a bare glimmer into the Laird's study.

Sure enough, after a few moments of waiting, Rian was ushered into the room.

"Ye promised! I willnae' let ye strip from me what's rightly mine!" He fumed, slamming a fist onto a chair and knocking it down.

The Chattan Laird cleared his throat. "I despise a man who cannae' hold his ale. Ye are nothing but a whelp."

"Ye insult me as well! I challenge ye! Here! Now!" Rian shouted, clearly agitated.

Colin heard a chair scrap the floor, as he assumed the Chattan Laird stood. Silence, followed by the shuffling of feet that was soon broken by the sound of metal swords clashing. Grunts and shouts were called, but less than minute later it was silent once again.

"Ye will give me what ye promised, or I'll take it now," Rian slurred.

Had he won?

"I willnae' give ye—"

"Aye, ye will. See? Here's a wee bit of yer blood, coloring my dagger. I'll not hesitate tae spill more. The only reason I ask is I'd rather have ye give me the clan's support, than fight fer it."

The sounds of heavy breathing stretched on for a few seconds.

"Aye. Ye'll be Tanist. But…"

"Aye, what do ye say old man?"

"But I need a traitor tae give tae the clan. Yer plan failed. Ye had the missive from the thieves but ye dinnae' give me the traitor that sent it."

"T'was that bastard Gareth! He foiled my plan! I had it worked out! But I—"

"Ye had nothin'. Not a one in the clan would 'o believed ye concerning Gareth's kin. Ye had tae be daft when thinkin' on that plan."

"I'll get ye yer traitor. I'll frame one if need be," Rian hissed menacingly.

"Perhaps ye will make a good Laird after all." The Chattan Laird chuckled, and then broke into a coughing fit.

"Get up old man! Go back on yer word again, and I'll not hesitate tae make yer lass Fatherless." Rian swore.

"Ye have my word… but I want the traitor in a fortnight's time."

"Agreed."

Colin heard Rian's retreating footsteps, and the groaning's of the Laird as he rose. His mind spun as he reviewed the newly gathered information. His cover was clearly blown, yet thankfully they hadn't recognized his writing or identity.

Rian was betrayed by the Laird when he didn't find the traitor, yet now he had regained the promised position of Tanist. So the prior assumption that Arywnn's father had lied, was proven true. Rian was to succeed the Chief all along. And finally, a fortnight; he only had that small window of time to prevent Rian from framing an innocent man and to find a way to free Arywnn without being caught himself. He had a fortnight to plan and leave.

As Colin crept back to the secret exit, he heard Rian shout once more, this time victorious. He almost ignored the man, yet when a bright glow began to grow, he turned and discovered the very cart that Rian had almost set to flame earlier, was now burning brightly. The orange flames licked at the gate and began to catch. After a moment of hesitation, Colin ducked through the gate and rushed home. After changing, he ran back to the gate and found Rian among fifteen other men dousing the gate with water, which prevented the flames from devouring more. Soon all that was left of the fire was smoking cinders where the cart of hay had once been, and blackened walls next to the main gate. A now sobered Rian stared at the blackened planks with a horror-struck expression. Men behind him pointed and grumbled.

A sickening sensation swirled in Colin's belly. More than ever, Rian needed to find the traitor if he wanted the full respect of the clan. He would be ruthless in pursuit, and beyond desperate to frame anyone he pleased.

Arywnn awoke to the acrid smell of smoke lingering in the air. As she was about to walk to her window and search for the source, a knock sounded at her door. She glanced at the utter darkness outside, and a chilling foreboding overtook her.

"Aye?" She asked upon opening the door a few inches.

"Miss? Tis yer mither. I… ye must come miss," a petite older woman spoke quickly then turned to rush off in the direction of her mother's room.

Arywnn closed the door and wrapped herself in a length of plaid, tossing her braid over her shoulder. She entered the hall, and silently followed the well-worn path to her mother's room. As she neared, the familiar smell of vinegar assaulted her and she knocked softly on her mother's door.

"Come in, miss. She's askin' fer ye." The same petite woman moved aside, and Arywnn heard the labored breathing of her mother.

"Mither?" Arywnn called as she drew closer to the frail woman. Her usual neatly braided hair was mussed, and her body shook with the effort it took to take each breath.

"Ar—whhnn," her mother attempted. She reached out a pale hand, and Arywnn grasped her cold flesh.

"Dinnae' fash yerself, mither. I'm here. Save yer strength." Tears began to pool in her eyes before welling over and pouring down her face in endless succession.

"Love… you," her mither whispered, then relaxed.

"I love ye as well." Arywnn leaned forward to kiss her mother's wrinkled forehead as the wheezing ceased. Her tears increased as the petite servant woman placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"She wanted tae say goodbye tae ye," the woman whispered.

"Thank ye, for comin' tae get me."

"Yer welcome."

Arywnn placed a final kiss to her mother's cheek then rose. The servant handed her two copper coins, and tenderly Arywnn close her mother's eyes then placed the coins over them. Tears fell silently as she stood glazing down at the peaceful body as it took its final rest.

"I'll miss ye, mither." It wasn't always easy to serve her mother, especially as her mind continued to fail, but was always done in love. As Arywnn glanced over at the woman, she noticed her covering her mother's mirror with a cloth, and preparing a plate of salt.

"Keeps the body from swellin' till burial, miss."

Arywnn nodded and watched as the woman placed the saucer of salt on her mother's silent chest.

"I'll be tellin' the cook tae pour out the milk and put the nails in the bread. T'keep it from the taint of death. I'll leave ye tae be the
lykewake
. I'll be needin' tae tell the Laird now mistress." Arywnn nodded.

"I'll also turn out the cat. Dinnae' want her jumpin' over the corpse, and lettin' the devils in. Yer mither deserves better than that," the woman mumbled as she left.

"Aye." Arywnn watched the woman leave then settled onto the chair next to her mother's bed with a deep sigh. She placed her hand on her mother's and waited.

Surely her father would pay proper respect to her mother. There would be many participating in the
lykewake,
in watching over the body. In turn they would celebrate her mother's life, and her final rest.

Soon loud footsteps echoed in the hallway, alerting Arywnn of her father's arrival. The door to her mother's room opened forcefully, startling her. She glanced behind her to find her father's gaze boring down on her, then her mother.

"T'was about time. Ye will be the
lykewake
for now. I'll have Annie come up with ye. We'll set the
kisten
for a few days hence." He nodded once, then left. Not once did he even pause to pay respect to the woman that had been his wife for over twenty years. At his departure, Arywnn shook her head in anger. Truly her father was heartless. The servant woman entered again, and cast Arywnn a pitying glance as she went to her mother's wardrobe. She removed a clean garment.

"Would ye assist in preparin' yer mither?" she asked tenderly.

"T'would be an honor."

The preparation of the body took a few hours, but when finished her mother was beautifully dressed with her arms peacefully crossed over her breasts. Visitors began to arrive and pay respect. As night approached, Arywnn continued to keep watch over her mother's body, as was custom. She lit the lone candle and waited.

****

The funeral was a bustling affair with most of the clan celebrating the life of their chief's wife. Children were told of the bees spreading the news of the dead. With wide eyes, they watched the buzzing creatures with new fascination. Arywnn didn't believe in the old tradition, but enjoyed the children's rapture. A large meal was prepared, and cheese and ale given freely. In this, her father did pay a measure of honor to his wife. As the crowd dispersed, her eyes caught the gaze of Colin. He took a step forward, but then seemed to changed his mind. He offered a slight nod and placed his hand over his heart. Arywnn nodded, thankful for his gesture of sympathy. He left without another glance, leaving Arywnn with the ever-present feeling of loneliness.

"How are ye farin'?" Annie spoke with a tender voice.

"I'm well. Thankful she is now at peace."

"Aye. T'was her due."

"Aye," Arywnn replied, nodding at Annie's gentle expression of sympathy. Annie pulled her into a hug. Arywnn was thankful for her friend's comfort.

"I'll leave ye tae yer mournin'."

The celebration over, Arywnn went to her room and began to undress. She paused. What she wanted was to be free of the castle walls just for a few blessed moments. The
lykewake
and
kisten
had required all of her time, which she didn't regret, however, she needed fresh air. She wrapped her plaid around her shoulders, and crept into the hall.

Once outside the castle, she made her way to the gate, always making sure to stay in the shadows. She cast a longing glace to the stables wishing she could take Garten on the night ride, yet she continued on foot. She passed through the secret gate, the one she used with Colin and made her way into the forest. Keeping from the path, she wove around the trees till she found herself at the loch where she met both Colin and Knight.

Cloudy breath swirled around her face as she made her way to the cool water. She trailed her hands through the glassy surface, and watched the ripples travel further and further away. Her thoughts drifted with the ripples as she contemplated Knight and Colin.

Both men were such a mystery. Colin was strong, eager to help; yet so much of him remained a puzzle. He had lived among her people for years, yet she knew little about him. He was both kind and resourceful, a skilled worker but silent and willing to blend in. His handsome appearance had captivated her from the start, and his tender regard for the children of the village endeared him more. Yet what of Knight? Clearly he wasn't of her people, yet he risked his life to save her from a dangerous position. His kisses ignited a passion in her she didn't understand, and at night his laughter was the last sound that rang in her ears. Her lips twisted in contempt of her foolish fantasies. Here she was trying to decide whom her heart belonged too, yet she likely would never get the chance to choose. If Knight was the traitor, which he most likely was, then she couldn't turn him in, which left her with no hope of having a choice in her husband. With a heavy sigh, she stood and began to walk away from the loch, intent on going home.

"Looking for me?" a crisp voice called to her from the night's shadows.

Arywnn spun around and searched the darkness, her heart beating wildly from both fright and exhilaration.

"No," Arywnn whispered.

"You wound me, love. Here I thought you were missing me, as I've missed you."

"What would make ye think that?"

Her question was met with silence. The darkness shifted slightly, and Arywnn tried to follow the movement, but couldn't. A warm touch trailed down her back, and she spun around to find Knight a breath away, chuckling.

"Jumpy are we?"

"When ye scared the wits out of me, yes," Arywnn spoke breathlessly.