Knight's Legacy (22 page)

Glyniss walked from the keep to the stable, the babe in her arms. She was resigned to a difficult task, but she was never one to prolong a challenge in hope of a reprieve.

It was long in the evening. Meggie's baby girl held some of her hair in her tiny fist as she went to find Lady Montwain in the stable. Her friend glanced up, saw that she had the babe, and dropped her gaze.

“Tell me, lady, what be your true name?”

“Why does it matter? If you address me as such it will breed suspicion in my husband and the others.”

“Think ye to go on with the lie?” Glyniss stood patting the baby, her expression one of pained tolerance.

“I must. I have no choice,” she said, shaking her head while she continued to brush the horse.

“So, ye think to do a better job of this than the soldiers?”

Cat went on with the task and did not answer. “I don't mind the work.”

“There be plenty to do, lady, in the keep. I could use a bit of help with this babe.”

“Can Edna not help you?”

“Edna has many a chore to do,” Glyniss said. Sitting down on a large tub of grain with a heavy wooden lid, she put the babe to her breast and patted her gently.

“Lady Montwain?”

“Aye?”

“Thee is in agony.”

Cat tossed her long red hair over her shoulder and turned to Glyniss. Tears welled in her eyes, but they did not fall.

“Aye,” she said. “I feel a rage inside, Glyniss, as if I will never … ever understand why Meggie had to die.”

“Think ye are to have the answers, do ye? Have ye lost your faith?”

Having no answer, she stood silent. Glyniss stood up, and beckoned her.

“Stop grooming that animal and come here.”

Cat put down the brush and came to her. “Sit down,” Glyniss said.

Reluctantly, she obeyed and settled herself on the wooden tub.

“Many a tragedy have I seen as a healer, far worse than what happened to Meggie. Wee children beaten to death by their own. Young wives like Meggie who took a knife to their insides to get rid of another babe they couldnae feed, only to die of the damage they wrought. Young girls raped and abused. I heard once of a clansmon who hung his own wife because his food was too hot.”

Cat turned her face and raised her hand briefly as if she could not bear to hear more.

“Be it all no matter, lass, I do ask your pardon, for ye are not a healer, and ye have seen too much death.”

Cat shook her head in protest when Glyniss bent down and handed her the baby. She gave in and gently wrapped the tiny, warm body to her chest. Glyniss put her hand on the other woman's shoulder and went on.

“Grieve, lass. But never forget the beauty in life, or the love. Many tiny bairns have I helped to come in to this world. 'Tis wondrous, a new life, a new beginning. Should the melancholy overtake ye, but reach out and see God's hand. See the hope He gives us all. It's here in every sunrise, and in that child's eyes.”

Glyniss walked regally out of the stable, twisting back briefly to speak. “Mayhap, we may christen her Hope? I favor the name.”

Cat looked down at the infant when Glyniss walked out, and burst into tears. The baby girl had her mother's blue eyes.

He that oppresseth the poor reproacheth his Maker; but he that honoureth him hath mercy on the poor.

~Proverbs 14:31

C
at found a unique comfort in taking care of the baby. The little one was officially christened Hope, as Glyniss preferred, and a lady of the clan, a wet nurse, moved into the keep, making it was easier to feed the babe. Once fed, Cat took over her care. At times, Kenneth was sulky about her lack of time for him but, by and large, he was as fascinated with the babe as he had been when she was still in the womb. The baby became a particular delight to the young man.

A month passed, and while the babe grew chubby they all were relieved no further threats of war came from the Gordon clan. As Douglas had returned to his father, the Gordon Laird was content.

Cat had never experienced such an unusual burst of love as for the baby girl, and stayed close to the keep, rarely venturing out to hunt. Hope was lying on the blanket in front of the hearth one evening when Glyniss approached her. Cat was a bit embarrassed caught cooing to Hope.

“I'm being silly, I know,” she said to Glyniss.

“Nay, not at all. This one is a sweet-tempered babe. ‘Twould be one with no heart at all to be unmoved by her, and she quick has become the princess of this keep.”

Cat picked the baby up and moved her to rest on her shoulder, smiling. “Aye, that's true. I think I even saw Gavin smiling at her last eve.”

“Ah, but, lady, that be the first time for ye to take note of that? He loves to make her giggle by tickling her under her wee chin. And your husband? That mon is besotted!”

Cat kissed the baby softly on the top of her head. “She has a winning way about her, even with strong warriors.”

“A month gone and still not a bit of word from Douglas. I confess I thought he would relent and want the child.”

“Let him try,” Cat said. “He'll not have her.”

“Nay, I hope not. I, too, ken it best for the wee one to be here with those who love her. But Highlanders look out for their own, and mayhap one day the Gordons could come for her. They may wish someday to pledge her in marriage, for she be part of their blood.”

Cat was to remember the conversation with Glyniss there by the fire, when Hope was only days past being four months old, Roderic was given the message that the Gordon Laird and his son were at their gates. They petitioned his command to enter, and he allowed them to come forth, entering the keep with three other Gordon soldiers.

Cat experienced fear and anger while she sat holding the baby at the long table in the hall, where Glyniss had joined her. The white-haired Laird lumbered in and sat down next to Douglas. Roderic and Gavin also sat at the table.

“I've come for the child,” Laird Gordon said.

“No,” Cat said. Roderic raised his hand to quiet her, and she immediately regretted her slip of the tongue. The Gordon Laird growled deep in his throat.

“I'll not be told no by an English woman. Ye have no right to my kin.”

“That's enough,” Roderic said. “My wife is but choked with fear that you will take this babe from her. She loves her.”

Glyniss spoke up. “As we all do! Where were ye for counsel when this whelp of yours turned his back on her?”

“Ye have a sharp tongue, healer! Never have ye kenned a woman's place is not in a mon's council!”

“In the past ye wanted my place to be near you when ye be puking from a sickness! ‘Twas holy, that, but not my aid to Meggie when ye wished her cast aside!”

“Glyniss!” Roderic spoke her name with quiet authority and, respectfully, she stopped her outburst. The lady sat back, though it was apparent she was furious; her eyes narrowed into slits of silver fire.

Douglas rose. “I know I was wrong, Glyniss, but my heart was too heavy. I could not look at her then. But she's all I have of Meggie.”

“Sit down, Douglas,” the Laird barked. “Mayhap, they want a war …”

“You want a war, old goat, you'll have one,” Gavin said.

“Aye,” the Laird roared, slamming his fist down on the table. “Be there not a more righteous reason for a war than to recover one of your own?”

He turned to Roderic and drilled him with his gaze. “Think ye long on this, Montwain. Will Alexander sanction the theft of a child from one clan to another? Douglas be the father of the wee one. She be a Gordon. Think ye of your own commitment to justice and weigh those scales against a promise of bloodshed. For a battle we will have, sir, do ye not turn the babe over to us on the morn.”

Roderic turned to Douglas. “Do you stand by your father's promise?”

Douglas momentarily looked ashamed. “Aye, I know I was wrong to leave her. I have no defense save my grief and, aye, mayhap, I even blamed her for taking Meggie away. But she's my child. I want her, and I will stand behind my father and go to war for her.”

The Gordon Laird also stood and turned to Roderic. “Ye put Mackay in his place, but he was a mongrel dog and a thief with no honor. Call to mind there are many in Scotland who dinnae want ye here. I have allies in the Highlands. I can be a peaceful neighbor to the south if ye give us the child, or I can be a bane that will be the ruin of ye. Think on that, Montwain.”

The Laird and his son turned leave. Douglas dropped his gaze and would not look in the direction of the women while he and his father filed out behind their soldiers.

Cat began to argue with Roderic for, fearfully, she could see in his eyes that he was leaning toward giving the baby up. Heedless of Gavin and Glyniss' presence, she vented her discontent.

“You can't! You can't actually be thinking of giving her back!”

“Love, do you think it is my will?”

Cat hugged the baby to her chest as she began to fret and cry. “Then stop them, fight them if we have to!”

“Nay,” Glyniss said. “Ye think with your heart, not your head. I, too, be heartsore for giving up the babe, lady, but we cannae start a war for it. The child be a Gordon, ye cannae change that.”

“Glyniss speaks the truth,” Roderic said.

“But Douglas abandoned her! What if they don't treat her right? Roderic?”

His expression was pained when he looked into her eyes. “Then I will make war on them myself. We may send Glyniss with a contingent of soldiers as often as they can be spared to see that the child is content and well.”

It was all Cat could do not to cry when she spoke. “You've made your decision.”

She thrust the baby into Glyniss' arms, whirled, and strode from the hall.

The following morning when the Laird and Douglas came to fetch the child, Cat was pale as she packed some things in a satchel for Hope. She put the tiny garments that Meggie had lovingly sewed, and the blanket that Glyniss had embroidered. The two men brought along a nurse for the baby.

Roderic and Gavin stood beside Cat in the great hall. Gavin was trembling with anger. Cat and Glyniss said their farewells. Cat kissed the baby and, though she struggled to hold her tears back, they slipped down her cheeks and into the little one's hair.

“Goodbye, Angel. I love you.”

Placing the baby in the nurse's arms, she turned, and ran from the hall. Roderic stalked to the Gordon Laird, and the big man glared at him.

“I shall send Glyniss with a company of soldiers. See to that child! If that wee lass is not hearty, not fat and smiling, you will die by my sword, and I will have my own war to rescue her.”

Whirling to the younger man, he spoke vehemently. “And, Douglas, never let your foot fall again near the gates of this keep. For welcome you are not!”

Cat missed the baby, and it dragged at her heart. Unlike the futility of Meggie's death, however, she took comfort in the knowledge that they could travel to the Gordon keep to see the child. Throwing herself into spending time once again with Kenneth, she took him riding and taught him to hunt more accurately with his bow.

But the boy, too, mourned the loss of baby Hope. At times he would run into the chamber and stand silently, staring at the empty cradle. Glyniss, ever vigilant, dealt with her pain busying herself taking care of the people of the clan.

Five weeks after the Gordons' departure, Roderic sent for Glyniss. Cat was shocked when he gave his reason.

“ 'Tis a messenger from the Gordon clan. They seek your help and beseech my leave to allow you to go to the Gordon keep. 'Tis a terrible sickness. It has befallen the Laird and many others. The messenger would not come beyond our gates lest he carry the sickness himself. Do you wish to go back with them?”

Glyniss did not falter. “Aye. I'll be away at once.”

“Glyniss, what of Hope? Should I go with you? Would you like my help?”

“Nay,” Roderic said. “I'll not risk you. The messenger said many have died from this fever. You will stay here, wife.”