CHAPTER ELEVEN #2
And the truth was, they didn’t even know if the page had ever been in her store, except that Malcolm was certain Aidan had it, and that he’d found it there. “Do you have any ideas as to who started the rumor that the page was in my store?” Claire asked uneasily. But she had a very bad inkling.
“Let us hope it was nay the lord o’ darkness,” Royce said. “He used Mairead to torture Brogan—and to trap Malcolm.”
Claire felt sick. “He can’t use me that way. Malcolm and I have just met.”
“Ye love him. He be sworn to protect ye. If he comes to love ye, ye can be used, just like Mairead.”
Claire began to shake.
“In the end, ye canna help Malcolm, ye can only weaken him. If he does start to care fer ye, ye canna allow it. He be a Master, Claire, an’ he must live an’ fight alone.”
She was dismayed. She wanted Malcolm to care for her—after last night, she wanted it a lot. “Like you,” she whispered.
“If ye truly love him,” he said tersely, ignoring that, “when the time comes, ye will go.” He spurred his horse forward, leaving her alone between the troops.
HOURS LATER, with the sun hanging low in the sky and threatening to vanish beneath the western ridges, Malcolm rode his destrier up to Claire. “Castle Awe be below,” he said as he halted the huge gray beast. “Ye must be tired. If Aidan permits, we’ll spend the night outside his walls.”
He had gotten over her offering him a bit of advice, Claire thought, relieved.
“I am sore,” she admitted, pulling her mount up.
They had spent hours riding through the pass.
For Claire, it felt like days. And she wasn’t just sore from gripping the horse with her legs; their vigorous lovemaking had taken its toll on her, as well.
She was also bone tired. After all, they hadn’t slept at all last night.
But she knew her fatigue was more than physical.
Every day seemed to bring a slew of new challenges.
Royce’s advice had felt like a warning. She didn’t want him set against her now. They needed to stick together.
“Dinna grip so with yer legs, lass,” Malcolm said softly.
Claire had the distinct feeling that he was thinking about just how strong her legs were. “It’s a reflex. Fortunately, this old boy doesn’t seem to care what I do.” She could not be diverted from what Royce had just said.
Malcolm smiled. “Brogan learned t’ ride on Saint.”
“Is that what you call him?” Claire stroked the brown gelding’s neck.
“Aye, Saint Will, as he takes care o’ his rider.”
Claire looked at the horse’s neck, thinking about every instance in which Malcolm had taken care of her since they had met. His fate was clear. He was a Master, meant to protect people like her and battle evil like Moray.
Of course a real relationship would make him weak and vulnerable to his enemies. On that point, Royce was right.
Claire slowly looked up. “I never want to fight with you.” She bit her lip as his eyes widened.
“Especially after last night. I know you’ve read my mind.
You know I don’t take what we did lightly.
No matter what I say, what I do, you can trust me.
I’m your ally and your friend, Malcolm. I want what’s best for you. ”
“A friend,” he echoed. “An ally? What nonsense has Royce been whisperin’ to ye, Claire?”
She flushed. “I don’t want to make you weak.”
His eyes widened. “Ye make me strong, Claire. Yer my woman.”
She wasn’t going to argue over his use of words and she certainly wasn’t going to change his possessiveness. She wasn’t sure she wanted to, no matter what Royce had said. “If I’m your woman, don’t you expect me to be loyal?”
“Ye ken I do. An’ ye be very loyal. Aye, I lurk all the time.”
She couldn’t be angry. “I’m sorry I told you what to do in regards to Aidan,” she said. “I don’t want you to get hurt. And in my time, women boss men around all the time. In fact, wives usually rule the roost.”
He smiled grudgingly. “Ye be right,” he said flatly, the last of his men passing them on the trail.
“Highland women dominate their men?”
“Nay. I wanted t’ charge into Awe with my sword raised. But I’ll ask Aidan nicely fer the page.”
Claire smiled widely, filled with relief and happiness. He had changed his mind because of her. “Maybe he’ll surprise you and turn it over without hesitation.”
Malcolm’s face hardened. “He wants the page fer himself. An’ maybe fer Moray.”
All pleasure disintegrated. “Royce would disagree. He says Aidan is good.”
Malcolm’s brow rose. “Good? He does good when it be his interest to do so. Nay fer selfless reasons. I am tellin’ ye, Claire, and this one time ye will obey me. Dinna trust him, not ever.”
Claire was not going to argue with him now. Besides, this was a promise she could easily make. “If it’s that important to you, then I give you my word. I will never trust him. However,” she added as he started to move his horse down the trail, “I hope you are wrong about your half brother.”
He darkened. “Dinna remind me o’ the miserable fact o’ his life. We may share blood, but he is nay my brother, half or otherwise!”
Claire followed him down the trail, wondering how Mairead could have left Malcolm at such a tender age and how she could have turned her back on Aidan, just after his birth.
She didn’t want to judge the woman, as she had suffered a heinous crime.
But both Aidan and Malcolm were the most innocent victims in the tragedy engineered by Moray.
It was a damn shame they couldn’t become friends.
The pass had wound through high ridges, most of it at elevations just above sea level.
Suddenly, the forests opened up onto a brilliant green expanse of marsh, grass and shrub dotted with thick pine trees and blooming with yellow and pink wildflowers.
The wooded fields ended in the sparkling azure waters of Loch Awe.
And rising from the loch was Castle Awe, a huge walled castle of red-brown stone with numerous towers, high ramparts and a central building four or five stories tall.
Twice the size of Dunroch, Awe was surrounded by water.
White swans floated near its walls. There was another island, also walled, connected by a bridge of land, where she saw stone buildings and peasant huts, and where some scrawny cattle grazed. The scene was picture-postcard perfect.
The drawbridge was down.
“He waits fer us,” Malcolm said grimly.
“How would he know that we’re here?”
“Aidan has very strong powers o’ the mind. Ye stay back in the midst o’ the men,” he told her. He galloped ahead, joined by Royce and Ironheart.
And that was when the thundering of hoofbeats began.
It was déjà vu. That terrible, ominous sound, an invitation to death, was one Claire was never going to forget.
She had hoped to never hear it again. The sound of an oncoming army of Highland warriors intent on battle and death was a nightmare come true.
She turned, seized with fear, and saw hundreds of mounted men galloping upon them.
Malcolm, Royce and Ironheart drew to a halt at the head of Malcolm’s men. Instantly, they were surrounded by the warriors. Claire realized not a single sword was drawn, not even Malcolm’s.
One of the opposing men rode forward and faced Malcolm. He wore full armor, but his visor was up. Claire strained to hear, but the exchange was in Gaelic. Instantly, the giant signaled everyone forward to the lowered drawbridge.
Claire’s fear escalated. Was Aidan taking them prisoner?
Claire prodded Saint into a trot to keep up with the men as they were herded over the drawbridge and through the raised portcullis.
This land bridge seemed to form an outer bailey, as she saw buildings for the garrison there.
She could only see Malcolm’s back now and, while aware of his tension, could not discern anything else.
They were urged through another gatehouse, a middle ward, and then a huge gatehouse with four high, defensive towers.
The moment the last of Malcolm’s men had entered the last inner bailey, the portcullis slammed closed behind them.
Claire flinched. They were certainly prisoners now. She looked carefully around at her surroundings. The castle inside the bailey was huge, with a half a dozen buildings built into the walls. Her gaze flew to the central keep facing them.
The dark wooden door of the hall opened and a man stepped out, standing two stories above them.
It was Aidan. “Hallo a Chaluim.”
Malcolm rode his gray horse past the giant and to the stone stairs leading up to where Aidan stood.
Claire expected him to stop there but he did not.
He drove the gray right up the stairs until the steed stood beside Aidan, making Malcolm, still mounted, tower over him.
“We come in peace. I wish a word with ye,” Malcolm said tersely in French.
Aidan laughed, clearly not at all perturbed by Malcolm’s actions.
“I ken why ye have come, Malcolm. Please, my home be yer home…brother.” His gaze moved past Malcolm, who was flushed with a rising temper, and settled right on Claire, never mind that a half dozen Highland men surrounded her, each one taller than she.
He smiled. “I wouldna leave the woman alone with my men, Malcolm,” Aidan said softly in English. “She be far too beautiful.” With that, he sent her a courtly bow and turned to go into his hall. “Leave the stallion in the stables.” He strode inside.