Knight's Legacy (2 page)

The thin old woman took another cruel blow to her cheek. Her stubborn resolve alone saved her from crying out, but a groan escaped her lips when she fell to the stone floor.

“You lied to me, you old witch,” the burly Scot bellowed as he stood over her. Calum Mackay kicked the woman viciously, and she curled up before him in agony.

“You helped her escape! I should kill ye now, ye worthless bitch!”

Angus Mackay ran to shield the woman, his powerful body moving with an easy grace. He shook his head with defiance.

“Nay! Leave her be, Father.”

Angus stepped in front of Edna. The kindly lady with the long gray hair had saved him many a beating as a child by keeping him out of the way of his father's wrath, and he would do the same. Angus would fight the man, kin or no, for he respected the woman's courage. She had stood up to Calum Mackay in spite of his rage.

Angus felt Edna's hands wrap around his ankle as she placed her face gently on the back of his calf. His leg was bare, for he wore a kilt, and could feel the blood streaming down her face.

“You dinnae know what she's done! The little whore is gone! My own daughter has defied me! She's run off to rut with that Kincaid whelp!”

“Dinnae call Brianna a whore! How can ye speak in such a way of your own kin?”

The older man had a cold-eyed smile when he snarled his answer.

“She's no kin a mine! From this day she is dead to me! If I ever see her again I'll kill her myself. What do you ken we tell the English bastard waitin' at our gates to marry? I will have that clemency and be gone, or we will all be put to the sword!”

Angus shook his head in disbelief. “Brianna is truly gone?”

“Aye, every inch of the keep has been searched and there's no sign of her! Her horse is missing too, and I be more heart-sore for the animal than the girl.”

“If it be true, she could not have gone far,” Angus replied. He reached down to help Edna stand, and spoke to the woman in a whisper. “Go, now!”

Edna walked away as quickly as her trembling legs could carry her, and Angus continued.

“I'll find her. If not, we shall do something else to appease the King.”

Calum grasped his son's shoulder in a punishing grip. “All else be lost! There is nothing that will satisfy Alexander now except to see the lass wed. You find the little bitch and bring her back. If I don't see the pardon promised by the King, I'll burn this keep to the ground a'fore I allow the Englishmon a hold here! We must stall for time! I'll send a message to Montwain that his bride will be prepared to wed him in a week's time. Take Graham with you! I don't care what ye must do, but find her!”

Angus nodded curtly, and walked briskly from the keep to the training field. Spying Graham in the distance, he put his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. Graham came his way at a trot, and Angus studied the old warrior. Barrel chested and short, he had white hair and beard, arms with the strength of some one half his age, and a perpetual frown. Angus did not trust the old thief with his horse or his coins in any wager, but the man was more skilled at tracking than any other in the clan.

“Brianna has run off. We must go and fetch her, or there will be hell to pay.”

“Aye. Calum willnae come with us?”

“Nay, he must try to bargain for time.” They were silent as they gathered provisions and packed them on the sturdy mounts. One horse was chestnut in color, a stallion that belonged to Angus. He frowned at the old brown horse Graham mounted. “Ye won't keep up on that animal.”

“Aye, I will, for though he be not as swift as your red, he is agile on the cliffs, and willnae be dumping me from the saddle. What possessed the lass to leave us?”

“She wants to wed Kincaid,” Angus grumbled.

“The Laird?”

“Nay, she cares for Alistair, the Laird's younger brother. Although I pity her going to the Englishmon, I dinnae believe she would defy Father, and I curse her folly.”

They rode on for an hour until the tracks bore witness of another rider. Graham was on one knee as he studied the signs in the ground, and shook his head. “Laird or brother, it matters not.”

“Aye.” Angus knew the young man well; he was of the Kincaid clan to the north. Apparently, he had come for Brianna and stolen her away.

By nightfall Angus knew it was useless. They were too close to Kincaid lands, and he would accomplish nothing save their own capture if they crossed the border. Kincaid had Brianna now. They would be married, and she would become part of a clan in the Highlands that was both strong and formidable.

Alastair Kincaid was younger brother to the Laird, and he would call hundreds of his warriors to fight before they would give up one of their own. Calum Mackay faced enough tribulation with the King and Montwain ready to make war on him. He dare not attempt a rescue that would start another war with a rival clan. Brianna was lost.

The holding and all the land would go to the Englishman, and they would do well to escape with their lives. There was no way out.

Finally, their horses bone weary, they stopped near a waterfall, bedding down in the forest. Neither he nor Graham wished to think of the fight to come with Montwain. It would be the death of them all.

… but time and chance happeneth to them all. For man also knoweth not his time.

~Ecclesiastes 9:11-12

F
ollow the lavender mist?
You can't be serious! You're daydreaming of mythical fairies again.”

The tall man with the sandy blond hair laughed as he parried the sword thrust of his opponent.

Catherine Terril turned with the grace of a ballerina and made a wide swing to counter with five lightening-quick thrusts of her own. She knew all of David's tricks. He used mundane conversation to distract her, but she didn't allow it.

Cat worked very hard at her job as a stuntwoman on the film crew. They were choreographing a scene of sword fighting, and it had to be perfectly timed before they could present it to the actors.

“Don't play innocent with me, David. I know you're behind the joke. I didn't recognize the actor, but I know you talked him into it. The old man had a thin face, long, white hair, his eyes were bright blue, and he wore a long, black monk's robe. He pulled the cloak off his head, stepped in front of me, and said, ‘Follow the lavender mist.' “

Cat whirled and drop-kicked David in the back of the calf just as he came close to disarming her. It was one of the more difficult parts of the scene, and she executed it well.

Cat was dressed as a medieval squire in black tights and a leather tunic. David was her boss, the stunt coordinator of the film, and he, too, was in costume. She continued to elude him while he used the familiar strategy of rapid, continuous blows designed to weaken her wrists.

For her size, Cat was extremely strong. Lifting weights and kickboxing had honed her muscles and increased her endurance. She was small-boned, however, and delicate in her build, and even the weight of her small sword eventually was a strain on her wrists. It was becoming difficult to catch her breath as she worked to keep him at bay. Bending down, she threw some imagined dirt into his eyes. This would be the actress' next move.

“Never fight fair when you're fightin' for your life, girl. You're learning, lass,” said David. He did his best to speak in a rolling Scottish brogue.

“You're better than the actors with that accent! Stop! Time out! I've had enough!” She raised her sword to signal she needed a rest, then turned from David and wiped the sweat from her brow. She worked at dragging the air into her lungs.

“I don't want to be an actor,” said David, breathing just as heavily. “Besides, you're the one the director is after! I know he offered you a part. Don't deny it.”

Cat paced to walk out her fatigue. Her bright green eyes flashed when she grinned. “I won't. He did offer me a small part in his next film. He also asked if I would have dinner with him.” She shook her head. “Not interested.”

“Your first experience with the infamous casting couch?”

She nodded. David walked up behind her and took hold of her long red hair. It was in a braid which fell to her hips. “It's this dark auburn flame that's so thick and beautiful. Men love long hair.”

“It doesn't matter. As you said, I don't want to be an actor. The only part I would ever want to play is Errol Flynn.” She smiled, displaying straight, white teeth.

“Let's get back to your mysterious monk. Maybe he was a method actor? They become the character they portray for the duration of the film. He was probably using you to test your reaction.”

She lifted her brow. “It's no mystery, even though you won't admit it! I'm a sucker for the legend of Excalibur, so you told him to be Merlin. You still want to pay me back for the loss of your tights. I told you Jim thought of that gag! We couldn't resist the idea of you dressed only in tunic and boots in that scene.”

“Carter knew the shot would be cut off at the waist so he went along with it. Jim is too good a stuntman to lose, or I'd fire the blackguard. Plus, he can pinch-hit as a key grip when we need him. Directors love people who are multi-talented. It saves them money. You're a perfect example. A stunt-woman who's an expert on antique swords and cutlasses is invaluable on this production, although I think Carter would have given you the job on your choreography alone. He was thrilled with your experience. Also, it's obvious he finds you drop-dead gorgeous. He made a similar remark when he watched you work yesterday. Ready for another go?”

He took his stance and held up his sword.

Cat nodded. “In a second.”

She stretched forward in a practice lunge.

“You shouldn't have turned him down, Cat. You've dreamed of coming to Scotland, and I happen to know you haven't taken the time to see any of the sights. Have dinner with the man. You needn't be afraid of sexual harassment. Carter Welles is a decent man, and that's not his style. He's divorced, but he doesn't have a steady stream of starlets in his bed, and we both know he could. I've spoken with him. He talks about his children a lot. I think he was very hurt by the divorce.”

“Just what I need,” she huffed derisively. ‘My ex is a witch, but I can't stop loving her', or talking about her! I gave up on that type of man a long time ago.” Cat shook her head.

“So cynical at twenty-four. You're too independent for your own good.”

“Maybe. But most men I meet are interested in a temporary sexual relationship with no commitment. I want … the fairy tale.” She fluttered her lashes and bowed.

“I have a strong suspicion that you're just as innocent sexually as the princess in a fairy tale. True?” She favored him with a look that would strip the hide off at ten paces.

“What makes you think I'll answer such a question?”

David gave her a wink. “Don't be angry, Cat. I think you just did. I find your discretion not only admirable, but wise in this day and age. If you want true love with all the trimmings, you should have it. I wish you luck in finding it.”

Cat resumed working on the routine for another hour, and was fatigued when she made her way through the castle. The director wasn't going to film the scene until sunset, so she wanted to find a secluded corner and rest.

As she had done often since arriving, Cat took a wrong turn down the corridor. The castle was like a maze, and she walked for about twenty minutes. Finally, becoming frustrated, she gave up and decided to re-trace her steps.

It was then she caught sight of the mist. It was lavender, but unlike any she had ever seen. Cat shook her head, convinced David had persuaded someone from special effects to be in on the joke.

She was intrigued and instantly determined to find out how they created such a pretty mist. It wasn't just lavender; there were tiny particles in the air that flashed like diamond dust. It swirled up from a narrow staircase.

Cat was so fascinated she was caught off guard when someone appeared behind her. She took a deep breath as a startled scream fought its way from her throat.

“All right. That's it! I've had it with you!” She stared up at the actor in the black monk's robe. He pulled his hood back.

“Tell David it worked. You've had your fun! You frightened the life out of me, so he's paid me back in spades! It almost worked too well. My first instinct was to attack you with this!” She brought her sword down in a sweep to bring home her point. “Although it's not sharp and meant to do you no damage, it would make an excellent club.” The old man smiled, his blue eyes shining.

“You needn't fear me, Catherine. Trust your heart. Follow the lavender mist. Use the keys. You never could resist a challenge, and you will enjoy the quest.”

“Well, that's a new one. What keys? What are you talking about?”

He walked backward slowly, blue eyes piercing the distance between them.

“Trust your heart.”

She ignored the melodramatic line and shook her head. “Wait! Didn't David tell you no one calls me Catherine?” She spoke the words as if amused. She wanted him to know she intended to be a sport about it. His black robe billowed out when he turned.

“None, save your mother when you were a child. She would sweep your hair behind your ears and sing to you before you slept.”

He watched her silently.

Cat felt a shiver as a wave of apprehension swept through her. She floundered under the brilliance of his gaze.

“How do you know that? David doesn't know about that. No one here knows my mother sang to me. She would sing that little song …”

Cat searched her mind for a plausible explanation, and glanced uneasily over her shoulder, looking for a way out. She was suddenly anxious to escape his disturbing presence.