Surrender (13 page)

"Ye'd best. Can't have everyone in Scotland
believing both of my children are beset by mad spirits!"

"Oh, go to bed, Brother, afore I take a broom
to you," Joneta said with a scowl.

Grumbling about senseless women, Broccin
stalked out of the solar and walked the short distance to the door
of his bedchamber. When the door closed behind him, they could hear
a woman's voice urging him to climb under the covers and give her a
good swiving.

Ranald sat Elyne in a chair and quickly went
to a chest beside the wall to withdraw a leather bag filled with
herbs and potions for all kinds of remedies. He never went anywhere
without it. Quickly, he stirred herbs ground into a powder in a
small amount of wine and handed it to Elyne. She swallowed it
without asking anything about its contents.

Elyne had complete faith in her brother's
healing abilities he'd learned in his years as a monk in Kelso. She
spread her arms and stretched, unable to stifle a yawn while she
did so.

"I think it safe for ye to return to yer bed
with Ysabel. Should she ask anything of tonight's events, tell her
ye couldna sleep and went for a walk beneath the fruit trees. An
owl swooped so low his talons slid through your hair and frightened
ye."

"I'll be asleep afore I even finish telling
her." Elyne stretched up on her toes and kissed her brother's
scarred cheek.

Aunt Joneta took her by the arm to steady her
to her room. When they opened the door, they found Ysabel sitting
up in the middle of the bed, the covers drawn up to her eyes.
Joneta calmly walked over to the bed, pulled back the covers and
tucked Elyne in.

"Go to sleep, ladies. 'Tis hours afore the
sun rises." She looked at her niece and smiled. "Next time you
canna sleep, come to me to accompany you in the orchards. We will
both be afeared of the night creatures." She chuckled and motioned
for Ysabel to lie down then tucked the covers around her.

With no other words, she left the room,
pulling the door silently closed.

Six days after leaving the Convent, Graemme
was near ten leagues from Clibrick when he saw a flash of light on
the hill ahead of him. 'Twas enough to know the lowering sun had
glinted off a shiny helm. His horse snorted, weary from their fast
pace, but Graemme urged it to a burst of speed. Before the evening
hour, he knew he had caught up to them.

He left the mount hidden in the bushes until
he was sure it was Magnus and not some lawless party going over
their loot. He used his broadsword to hold back the bushes,
confident he could handle anything awaiting him.

When he came to the last line of the trees
before the camp, he studied the scene before him. A comely woman,
long and naked, lay on a kilt on the ground. Cuts, scars and
bruises covered her back. Magnus must have sensed his approach, for
when he jumped upright, his bow was already arced as bulging arm
muscles pulled the nocked arrow back. He stood between the trees
and the unconscious woman.

Graemme's brother' face looked drawn as tight
as the hide cover on a war drum. His lips, white-rimmed with
strain, clamped together in determination. Haunted near-black eyes
within equally dark circles reminded Graemme of the charcoal Elyne
had worn as the crone. But his husky voice sounded as strong and
forceful as ever.

"How in Hades did ye approach without us
hearing?"

Magnus sounded irritated but Graemme ignored
him for his body seethed with anger.

"What have ye done to the lass?!"

When his mount burst out of hiding on hearing
familiar voices, Graemme ran his hand down the steed's neck and
praised him. As he tied his reins to a bush, he gazed intently at
the girl on the ground then turned to fix his brother with a cold
stare.

"None of this was done by my hand." Magnus
voice was harsh with worry, answering his brother's unasked
questions.

"She's bonnier than any lass ye have ever
bedded." Graemme rubbed his cheek as if the stubble of hair there
annoyed him then nodded. "From the looks of ye while ye tended her,
she must be Muriele of Blackbriar."

He noted her hair was short, not flowing down
her back as Ranald had described her.

"Did ye cut her hair as punishment for the
months ye spent searching for her?" He tensed, not wanting to
believe his brother would do such a dim-witted thing. 'Twould be as
much punishment to him as to Muriele, for he had more than once
described the beauty and warmth of her tresses.

"Nay. Her hair was as we found her in the
convent. These latest injuries ye are staring at are by her own
doing. The lass tried to hide atop a tall pine and ended up
crashing to the earth." He realized he was making excuses to his
younger brother and stopped. "How did ye find us and why are ye
here and not at Clibrick or Kinbrace?"

"To keep yer sorry arse from making the worst
mistake in yer life."

Magnus folded his arms across his chest and
scowled at the disrespectful way his brother spoke to him.

"And this horrible mistake is?"

"Believing anything coming out of the lying
mouths of the Gunns."

Graemme stopped and pulled out a packet of
cut leaves and asked Sweyn to brew them. He was bone cold and wet
from chasing two steps behind them for days. They moved to the
other side of the fire to talk where they wouldn't disturb Muriele.
Once they had the hot brew in their hands, Magnus became
impatient.

"Start talking."

"I went to Kinbrace and pretended great alarm
that anyone had dared attack Feradoch." He took a great gulp out of
the pewter cup and sighed. "All was not as I expected there."

"What had ye expected? All grieve in
different ways. Olaf lost a son, his only heir." He shrugged at
Graemme. "'Twas natural if he stayed drunk and his temper was
short. He often picks fights with his men."

"Olaf acted as worried as any father thinking
his son near death."

"Near death? He yet lived?"

"Feradoch pretended to be dying around the
servants, myself and his father." He wriggled his shoulders,
relaxing his tense muscles. "After all were abed, I was as quiet as
a church mouse as I made my way to an alcove near the dying man's
door. I wanted to watch all who entered."

"He didn't believe overmuch in priests or
such," Magnus added, thinking his brother was surprised Feradoch
didn't have a priest standing watch at his bedside.

Graemme snorted. "No priest could provide the
comfort
he required. He needed only women." He sucked his
teeth in disgust. "Two at a time. I put my ear to the door. I
didn't mistake the sounds of him swiving his newest whores. Both of
them."

"He was able to swive after losing so much
blood?"

"Aye. And boast of all he would do to Muriele
once he had his hands on her." He held out his cup for Sweyn to
refill it. "She was canny to insist on a hand fast instead of a
wedding. After Feradoch intercepted a king's messenger outside
Clibrick and relieved him of a missive, he plotted to marry
her."

"A missive? What missive?"

"It was about ye."

"Tell me afore I throttle ye!"

"King David's missive stated the conqueror of
Blackbriar was to marry the heir and hold the castle in the king's
name. Feradoch cleverly planned to force Muriele to marry him. Once
he consummated the marriage, the king couldn't do anything about
it. After he seized a firm hand on Blackbriar holdings, he planed
to make her sorry for the rest of her very
short
life."

Graemme let out a gusty sigh. "All in all, I
think I have been a very good spy."

"Huh! Did you find anything of Grunda or
Esa's body?"

"I couldna at first. Then I remembered
Muriele had lived deep in the woods. I finally found the old hut.
When Grunda first saw me, she nearly ran me through with a rusty
sword!"

Magnus grunted. "She must have heard ye
comin' for leagues. 'Twas a wonder she didna lay a curse on
ye."

"Nay. She stared into my eyes. She walked
circles around me then grunted and said. 'Ye are the younger son of
Clibrick. The one with compassion and brains to think.'" He laughed
at Magnus' insulted expression.

"Did she know aught of Esa's killing? Where
her body lies?" Sweyn asked, his face twitching from trying to keep
himself under control.

"I'm coming to Esa's story. The seer claimed
Feradoch beat Muriele because she wasn't perfect. He couldn't
consummate the handfast. He sent guards to bring Esa to the room to
help him have a cockstand. She resisted. As he was trying to
strangle her, Muriele stabbed then hit him on the head. She kenned
she was too late."

"Kenned?" Sweyn straightened, for he had ever
tried to hide his love of the dark, beautiful Esa.

"Aye, she lives. Grunda gave her an elixir to
make her appear dead. When Olaf had her thrown into the forest, the
old seer rescued her from the woods. She lives there with her. I
had sent Colyne and Brian on different paths, but met them at the
fork. I left them to guard over the women."

Muriele must have awakened and heard Esa was
alive, for she struggled up and bundled the robe about her. She
stumbled close to the men sitting by the fire. Ignoring Magnus and
Sweyn, she talked only to Graemme.

"Ye say Grunda and Esa are safe in the
forest?"

"Aye." Graemme bowed to her. "'Tis an honor
to meet ye, Lady Muriele. I have heard of yer good deeds from the
common people at Raptor Castle. Even how ye saved two ladies lives
afore ye reached the Convent of Mary Magdalen."

She shrunk from Magnus when he extended his
hand to steady her.

"I have something from a seamstress in a
village halfway here. Something the woman thought ye would
welcome," Gramme said as he made his way back to his horse. He
looked over his shoulder and grinned at her. When he returned, he
had a soft package he handed to her.

Her beautiful eyes looked questioningly at
him, but she couldn't take it as she had to clutch Magnus' cloak
around her naked body.

"'Tis clothing. I told her of yer plight. She
kenned a woman might need extra clothing if she was taken on a
hurried trip." His eyes studied her face and he shook his head. "If
ye rest until dawn, it will be soon enough to dress. We will be off
to Clibrick. Ye will be safe there with my father and Magnus to
guard ye."

Graemme knew Magnus would never turn her over
to Chief Olaf after he knew the whole story. There had to be some
honorable way out of his vow.

But Magnus stayed silent. Unmoving.

Graemme scowled and helped Muriele back to
her pallet. Sweyn fixed her a hot potion to drink. Her eyes soon
closed and she was fast asleep, holding the gift of clothing close
to her chest. He and Magnus slept on either side of her throughout
the night, keeping her warm and also assuring she didn't try to
steal away whilst they were asleep.

"Well, brother, we are west of the forest
between Blackbriar and Kinbrace. I still have a loch to ford and it
looks to be calm weather for the next days," Graemme said as he
saddled his mount the next sunrise.

"Aye. Ye should find the hut easily now ye
know where it is. Be stealthy and dinna linger. If Feradoch or Olaf
learns ye are anywhere near, they will suspect something." Magnus
buffeted him on the shoulder, something he hadn't done since they
were lads together.

"Uh, Graemme?" Sweyn spoke softly so as not
to awake Muriele.

"Aye?" He turned his head slightly to the
side, wondering what Sweyn wanted.

"Be gentle with Esa. She has had naught but
strife at Kinbrace. Her mind canna take more of it." Sadness filled
his face. He lowered his eyes to look at the ground. "If ye should
be captured with the women, 'twould be a kindness if ye slit her
throat and quickly ended her suffering." His body shuddered.
"Feradoch would torture her for days if he laid hands on her."

Grief flooded Sweyn's eyes. Graemme knew this
rough knight loved her.

Magnus scoffed to make light of his worry.
"Olaf and Feradoch had best beware of Grunda. She will cast a spell
turning their balls to huge cherries and have ravens plucking at
them as they fled through the whole of Scotland!"

"Grunda seemed a harmless sort to me."
Graemme looked puzzled.

"Her ancient appearance hides a mind which
can strike fear with but a look! If she warns ye, pay heed to
her."

"For certs I will." He swung up into the
saddle. Reaching beneath his kilt, he settled his sex betwixt his
legs and grinned. "Cherries, huh? 'Twould be most uncomfortable
sitting atop something that popped every time ye hit a bump in the
road."

"Off with ye, eejit! And dinna forget yer
caution!"

Gramme chuckled as he walked his horse as
quietly as possible through the woods until he was far enough away
the sounds wouldn't wake Muriele. The beautiful woman had looked
exhausted even in her sleep. His brother had best be good to her
else, he would have to answer to him. Now he'd reached his full
growth, he was equally as strong and capable as Magnus.

The two days it took him to forge the loch
and ride through the forest gave him time to think. He would gather
the women and the two guards he'd left with them, and then make all
haste to Clibrick. The faster the trip, the sooner Magnus would
learn the whole story. Once he did, Graemme knew his brother would
break this unholy blood tie with Feradoch. Once it was finished,
then Magnus would be married. He didn't doubt Magnus loved Muriele.
When he looked at her, Graemme had seen the worry and tenderness
lurking there.

He wished he felt the same for Elyne. But
each time he thought of her, his anger rose and he wanted to
throttle her for her tricks. She'd made a fool of him in the eyes
of every man at Raptor Castle. Had she done so with any other man,
after they spoke their wedding vows, her husband would take her to
the woods where he'd slap her pretty nether cheeks until she
couldna sit to eat. She wouldna dare to rile his anger again.