Highland Warlord Page 10

  Just as his name crossed her mind, the braw knight stepped into the sparring ring and eyed a pair of fledglings with his fists on his hips. “Halt!”

  They stopped, their chests heaving.

  James shook his head at one of the men who stood with his hands on his knees, sweat streaming from his brow. “If ye’re planning to wield your blade like a lass, I may as well run a blade across your throat now and be done with it.”

  The fellow straightened. “I ken how to fight as well as the next man.”

  “Och aye?” James drew his great sword and stood en guard with both hands securely gripping the hilt. “Then come at me.”

  The man looked to his sparring partner who gave a nod, then with a feral roar, he attacked. With the first strike, James countered with an upward swing, ripping the sword from the man’s grasp.

  “How did ye do that?” asked the bystander.

  James shook his weapon and held it aloft. “This is how you hold a Highlander’s blade. Both hands, else you’ll tire more quickly.”

  “But what if you’re holding a targe?” asked Torquil.

  “Then you ought to be fighting with a lighter sword—shorter, too. The English carry shorter weapons and that gives us the advantage. When wielding a great sword, there’s no need for Highlanders to move in so close. We can defend a strike without their blades running us through.”

  James circled his hand over his head. “Go again.”

  Ailish moved her fingers to her lips to cover her smile. Sir James was certainly a sight to behold. Every time he stood before his men, there was no question as to who was in command. The Bruce was right to appoint him to general of the borders, for a fiercer Highlander did not exist.

  He caught her eye and gave a nod while he walked toward her. “Seumas said you’re helping in the kitchens.”

  “Aye,” she said, thinking of the crude conditions in the cooking tent—a spit fashioned from tree limbs, a fire pit, a few iron pots—not exactly kitchens. “I want to help wherever I can.”

  “I’m glad of it. No one here is idle, even if they are nobility.”

  “Are there other nobles present?”

  “Nay, but if there were, they’d be working alongside the others.”

  “As it should be.” Ailish yawned and patted her chest. “Apologies.”

  “You’re weary are you not?”

  “A bit. I haven’t slept since the night afore last.”

  “I should have thought to tell you I’ve fashioned a pallet in an alcove of the cave. You’ll have a guard and privacy there.”

  Ailish almost swooned. The mention of sleeping sounded heavenly. “That is very kind of you. I’m certain I will fall asleep as soon as my head touches a pillow.”

  “Would you like to rest now?”

  “Nay. Though I might be bred of nobility, I’d be looked upon as a laggard, would I not?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up while his eyes grew even darker. “I reckon we ought to give you quarter this once.”

  “No matter how much I’d like to slip into the alcove and close my eyes, I’d best wait. I truly do not wish to draw attention to myself.”

  “I’m afraid with you being the only woman within a good five and twenty miles, every time you take in a breath the men notice you.”

  “You exaggerate.”

  “Nay. I notice you, for certain.”

  Before she could stop herself, she tittered, her face suddenly hot.

  He tucked a lock of hair under her veil. “I came over here to tell you the missive to His Grace has been dispatched and two scouts are heading south to see what they can uncover as to Lord Harris’ whereabouts.”

  “Bless you.” She pressed praying hands together and looked to the heavens. “I kent in my heart you were the one man who could help us.”

  “Do not go making me out to be a saint. We need to find where Herbert has hidden the lad, then taking him back will be the true challenge.”

  “But we will. I feel it in my bones.”

  12

  Smoke from the torches and fire pit hung above, making the cave seem surreal. Ailish, the old monk John Blair, and Seumas sat off by themselves, eating the evening meal of tasteless rabbit stew with beans. It was thickened with barley and served on rough wooden trenchers.

  Ailish had thought she’d become accustomed to hardship at the priory, but living among a group of poor nuns was nothing like this. The cave was rocky, dank, cold, dark, and full of spiderwebs. There wasn’t a single chair, let alone a table. And the stench of men was only tempered by overtones from the wood burning in the firepit.

  Many wore their beards thick and long, sweeping chests. Some even had matted hair—possibly where a few of the spiders had taken up residence.

  Ailish shuddered. Of course, the nuns at Lincluden Priory were fastidious about cleanliness. Though the priory was small, there was a bath house. And Ailish and her siblings always washed at the bowl morning and night.

  She turned to Seumas. “Do you have many opportunities to bathe?”

  The lad made a sour face. “Only when Hew makes me.”

  “Do you wash in the river?”

  He scooped a bite of stew with his eating knife. “Aye.”

  “Well, at least you do not smell like a heathen, nor does Friar John.”

  “I suppose some of the men are a bit rank,” said the monk. “I’ll mention bathing to James. It wouldn’t be good if the English found our camp on account of the stench.”

  She chuckled. “After being blindfolded and having it take ages for the guard to lead me here, I doubt we’re likely to be raided any time soon.”

  “Aye, that’s why Selkirk makes an ideal hideaway. We’re close to our enemies, yet if the blackguards attempt to set foot in the forest, they’d never leave.”

  Seumas used his teeth to scrape a morsel of rabbit from his eating knife. “We have spies in the trees as well as around the perimeter.”

  “Well then, I will sleep soundly this night.” Honestly, Ailish most likely would sleep through an all-out siege as soon as she found the alcove James had promised.

  At the moment, he was across the cave, deep in conversation with his inner circle of men.

  One of the others who had been standing guard when she was preparing beans stopped by and tossed his trencher in front of her. “I thought with a woman here, the fare might have a bit of flavor, but I was wrong.”

  “Haud yer wheesht.” Blair lumbered to his feet. “I prepared the pottage, and you ken we’ve naught but what God sees to provide around us and any kind donations the men may bring.”

  “Well, if she cannot cook better than the likes of you, what good is she?”

  Heat spread across her face as Ailish lowered her gaze. She had never cooked a meal in her life, though she’d helped a great deal in the kitchens at the priory. “I’m sure Friar John’s cooking is far better than mine.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Is there a problem here?” James asked, coming up behind the ungrateful fellow.

  No one said a word, including the grumbler who’d just insulted the friar’s cooking abilities. Ailish gave him a hard glare before she smiled at Sir James. “This gentleman was just telling us how much he enjoyed the beans.”

  “Pshaw,” Seumas blurted with a snort.

  James looked to Blair. “Is that so?”

  The friar gave her a wink. “Aye, one of the new recruits brought a bushel along. I reckon they added some flavor.”

  Seumas licked his lips and rubbed his belly. “It was delicious. I could eat rabbit stew every meal.”

  “So, Graham,” James said to the man. “Why is it I sense these three are feeding me a line of drivel?”

  The man shrugged, looking about as innocent as a dog who’d stolen a leg of mutton from the kitchens. “Not certain, sir.”

  “Let me make it clear. You are not to speak to Her Ladyship unless spoken to—”

  “But I wasn’t just speaking to her.”

&nbs
p; James grabbed the man by the collar. “Did you understand what I said?”

  Growing red in the face, Graham sputtered. “A-aye, sir.”

  “Good. Then we’ve no quarrel.” James pushed the man away and offered his hand to Ailish. “Would you like me to show you to your quarters, m’lady?”

  Seumas laughed. “Aye, as if there’s a castle within fifty miles.”

  “Keep the smart-arsed comments to yourself, ye wee pup,” said Friar John.

  Ailish said nothing and took James’ hand. But after they were several paces away, she turned her lips toward the knight and whispered. “I wasn’t certain how much longer I’d be able to hold my head up.” Her insides might be roiling with worry, but if she didn’t sleep soon, she’d risk falling on her face.

  “I noticed. Even from across the fire, you looked as if you were fighting to keep your eyes open.”

  “Was it that obvious?”

  “Aye,” he said, stopping outside an opening covered by deer hide. He pulled the shroud aside. “When we arrived, not even Seumas could stand straight in this wee nook.”

  Ailish stepped inside. “No?”

  “I took a pickaxe to the ceiling and now at least you can stand. It isn’t much but ought to give you a modicum of privacy.” He pulled a flint from his sporran. “Would you mind holding the curtain aside whilst I light the fat-burning lamp?”

  She grasped the pelt, noticing a large clam shell in a wee hollow with a wick buried in tallow. “Not at all.”

  In two strikes of his flint and knife, James lit the lamp, turning the alcove into a private little sanctuary. It was no larger than the silver closet at Caerlaverock but was perfect for sleeping. A pallet had been made up and covered with fur pelts—no bed linens, but what ought she expect in a cave?

  “This is lovely, thank you.”

  “’Tis rough at best. I pray you sleep well.”

  Ailish removed her veil, dropped it to the pallet, and shook out her hair. “I am grateful.”

  James plucked a wavy curl and wound it once around his finger. “Though you’re a maid, I reckon ’tis best for you to wear a veil whenever in the presence of the men.”

  “Of course. I’m wearing a gown beneath my habit. Do you wish me to remain dressed as a nun?”

  “’Tis for the best.” He cupped her cheek and dipped his chin. Ailish’s very breath caught in her throat as he softly brushed his lips across hers. “Forgive me, but I’ve wanted to do that ever since you arrived.”

  A delightful shiver spread across her shoulders. All day, she’d waited for him to kiss her, but with an army of men about, kissing ought to be the very last thing upon her mind. She placed her palm in the center of his chest. “If I am going to continue to be pious, perhaps kissing should be off limits?”

  “Hmm.” He kissed her again. This time, he lingered while his tongue lazily swept across hers.

  “What would Friar John say?” she asked, breathless.

  “I reckon the old monk would turn a blind eye.” James glanced back. “But you are right. In Scone, the king entrusted me with your virtue and I cannot deny that kissing you makes me want ever so much more.”

  James left Hew to guard Ailish and set out on his morning rounds, ensuring everyone was set to task. When he returned to the alcove, Hew was still there, sitting against the cave wall, cleaning his fingernails with a dagger.

  “Where is Her Ladyship?” James asked.

  “Hasn’t come out as of yet.”

  Though she had been exhausted, it didn’t seem likely for her to still be asleep. Had she fallen ill? “Lady Ailish?” Hearing no reply, he pulled the fur aside and peeked in, but it was darker than charcoal. “Are you well, m’lady?”

  His query was met with a gasp and some rustling. “Is it morning?”

  “Aye, has been for some time.”

  “My heavens, I must have been exhausted. I never sleep past sunup.”

  James’ eyes adjusted a bit—at least enough to see the lass sit up with a fur clutched beneath her chin. “There’s the conundrum. The sun never shines in here.”

  “Mayhap that’s why.”

  “I’ll have Seumas fetch you a bit of porridge.”

  “Thank you.”

  James dropped the shroud and looked to his man. “I’m trusting you to keep an eye on her. Lord kens having a woman in camp can bring out the beast in men.”

  “Will do. I’ll put Davy on alert, as well.”

  “Good man.”

  Her Ladyship may have slept like the dead last eve, but James had barely closed his eyes. What the devil was he to do with her? Aye, he could think of dozens of things he’d like to do with her, but nary a one was possible.

  “She should have sent a damned missive,” he growled under his breath as he stepped outside.

  The recruits were only beginning to come into their own and there was much to be done. James also should have left for the Highlands yesterday. The king had sent word that he needed every sword. The MacDougalls had refused to declare fealty to Robert Bruce and because the English were chasing him like hounds, he had been forced to send the queen and his daughter north to Kildrummy Castle.

  Given the MacDougall threat in the west, the king’s position was all the more precarious.

  And I should be at his side.

  If they found Lord Harris’ whereabouts quickly, James might only be detained a fortnight or two. And then he’d have to walk away from Ailish once more. If only he could give her a proper home, he might consider wooing the lass. Well, he’d already started down that path—even though his amorous leanings needed to stop. The problem was every time he was alone with the woman, he couldn’t help but kiss her.

  In the command tent, James met with Torquil, Davy, and Caelan. It was time they identified the strongest fighters and allocated them to different schiltrons. A cohort of the best would be assigned to James, but there were enough strong soldiers to name a sergeant to lead each group.

  After the meeting ended, the first thing that drew his gaze was Ailish heading down the path to the river with a bucket in her hand.

  “M’lady,” he called, hastening after her.

  She stopped and looked at him expectantly. “Good day, sir knight.”

  He looked to the skies. How could she be so guileless? “You weren’t about to head for the river alone, were you?”

  The lass held up the bucket. “Friar John needs water.”

  “Well, he should not be sending you to fetch it.”

  “He didn’t. I volunteered.”

  “Nay.” James took the bucket from her fingers. “I do not want you leaving the camp without an escort. Where the blazes is Hew?”

  She shrugged. “Not certain.”

  “Come,” he groused, heading down the trail. “I’ll catch up with him later.”

  “Do not lose your temper with Hew. He left me in Friar John’s care.”

  “Then I’ll have a word with Blair and tell him you’re not to leave his bloody sight.”

  Ailish’s footsteps pattered the ground, as if she were struggling to keep up with James’ strides. “Are you angry with me?”

  He stopped and thrust his fists onto his hips. “Nay.” In truth, he was angry, but being angry with Her Ladyship seemed absurd.

  She eyed him. “I sense you are troubled.”

  When was he not? “Word arrived that the king has sent Her Grace and his daughter to Kildrummy Castle.”

  “But that’s in the far north.” Ailish clasped a hand over her chest. “Do you believe they will be safe there?”

  “I do, else the Bruce would have sent them elsewhere.”

  Nodding, she glanced down the path. “Oh, I found something of yours.” Her smile radiated warmth as she pulled a silver chain over her head and held out his cross. “This was between the furs in my pallet.”

  He stood for a moment watching the silver flicker in the sunlight. “’Twas my mother’s,” he whispered, as he took the cross and put it on, his stomach clenching. Th
e piece was the sole possession he had of his mother’s memory. He never took it off—had it slipped over his head in the fits of a night terror? Most likely.

  Gulping, he swallowed his deep-seated emotions and tucked the keepsake under his shirt where he always kept it close to his heart. “How did you ken it was mine?”

  “You were wearing it the evening you spent at Lincluden.” Ailish turned the color of a blood rose, her gaze meandering to his chest. The shift of her eyes, the slight parting of her lips made her all the more irresistible, more entrancing. “Remember? You were at the washstand behind the stables.”

  James had only relived that moment every night since. At the time, it had taken all his self-restraint not to whisk the woman into his arms, carry her to the loft, and have his way with her. Just as he felt like doing now. They were alone aside from the muffled sounds coming from the camp. But, alas, this was not the time and most likely would never be.

  Ailish turned and continued toward the river. “You gave me your pallet in the alcove, did you not?”

  Of course he did. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. “I put you in the only place in the entire camp where there was no chance you would be harmed.”

  “I suppose you slept outside the alcove as well.”

  He grunted, taking the pail from her hand. “His Grace asked me to protect you.”

  “On the journey to Lincluden.”

  “Aye, but I’m certain his orders would have been perpetuated had he known you would venture to Selkirk Forest…alone.”

  “I apologize if I have caused you inconvenience, but I had nowhere else to turn.”

  “And that is why I have not sent you away.”

  “You would have cast me out otherwise?”

  No, his heart wouldn’t allow it, but he’d best not admit it to her. “Let us say I would have done and will do what is necessary to find Harris.”

  Her smile was even brighter this time, setting alight a flicker in his heart. But she said nothing. Instead, she continued along the path, letting her fingers brush the shoots of leaves, turning green with the promise of spring.