Chapter Twelve #3
Caelus put a hand down, pulling her easily onto the back of his horse again.
Since he’d trained as a warrior, his broadsword was already strapped to his saddle, ready and waiting.
He didn’t turn around and rush back to the escort, however.
He simply paused, waiting, wondering why the rider was moving so swiftly.
That indicated panic to him. As he watched, the vision became clearer.
There was something about the horse that was recognizable to him, he thought. A big black horse with a white breast.
Kaladin had a horse like that.
“Christ,” he muttered. “That’s Kal.”
“What?” Zora gasped. “How do ye—”
Caelus cut her off when he spurred his horse forward, rushing to meet Kaladin as the man raced down the road toward them.
In little time, they came within close proximity of one another and Kaladin reined his excited horse to a halt, as did Caelus.
The warhorses sensed something in the air, some kind of tension, and began to dance around and kick.
That had Zora sliding off the back of Caelus’ horse before she was thrown.
She landed on her feet, fortunately, and with her flowers intact.
“Kal!” she cried. “What are ye doing here?”
“Me?” Kaladin said incredulously. “What are ye doing here? Both of ye?”
Caelus managed to calm his horse a little. “Mae and Papa are heading back tae the Hydra,” he said, pointing down the road. “See?”
Kaladin could see the escort at a distance, but he was greatly puzzled. “Why?” he said. “They weren’t supposed tae leave for the Hydra for another few weeks. What happened?”
Caelus shrugged. “Papa became homesick when ye and Estevan left,” he said. “We left almost immediately after ye did. Where is Estevan, by the way? Why are ye racing down the road like a madman?”
Kaladin shook his head. “Papa needs tae hear this,” he said. “And thank God ye’re here. How many men does Papa have?”
“A few hundred,” Caelus said, sensing his brother’s urgency. “Why? Kal, what’s wrong?”
Kaladin motioned to him. “Come,” he said. “I’ll tell ye.”
He sprinted down the road, heading for the escort, while Caelus was a bit slower because he had to carry Zora.
He raced back down the muddy road, reaching the escort shortly behind Kaladin.
Lares and Mabel were shocked to see one of their sons riding alone on the road, but they were also greatly concerned because Kaladin seemed quite excited.
Lares shouted at the men behind him, holding up his hand, and the entire column ground to a halt.
Something was in the air.
“Kal?” Lares said as he returned his attention to his son. “What’s amiss? Why are ye here?”
Kaladin told him. The entire story, from finding Leonore until that very moment.
Everything that had happened over the past two days was now in the lap of Lares, who listened to the harrowing tale with increasing disquiet.
What concerned him the most was hearing that the Serpent People, those ancient peoples that most western Highlanders feared, were in southern Scotland and, quite possibly, could be upon them at any moment, since Kaladin didn’t know where they were. No one seemed to.
The entire story was baffling.
“This is madness,” he hissed when Kaladin was finished. “Ormsfolk are here? And ye’re sure of it?”
Kaladin nodded. “Titan and I saw their boats,” he said. “We saw their footprints. They’re looking for their captive, Papa, and they’re going tae find her at St. Margaret’s of Loch Doom.”
Lares grunted. “And that’s another thing,” he said. “What on earth possessed ye tae take the woman tae the Templar nuns? Ye know they’re a fighting order, not a healing order. Why’d ye do it?”
“Because we dinna want tae carry her all the way in tae Dumfries,” Kaladin said, frustrated that his father didn’t understand the logic. “She was injured, Papa. We thought it best tae take her tae the closest place where she might receive help.”
Lares didn’t like the sound of any of it, but he stopped short of calling his son foolish.
Estevan wasn’t foolish. Cruz was and Leandro was.
Lucan used to be, but he’d grown out of it.
Kaladin could be on any given day, but even Lares could see that his sons had been trying to do the right thing.
But the fact that they’d taken the injured woman to St. Margaret’s of Loch Doom was…
Ill advised.
Now, those reclusive nuns were involved in this.
“Ye did what ye thought best, I suppose,” he finally said. “And now ye fear that the Ormsfolk are here?”
“Aye.”
“But what makes ye think they’ll end up at St. Margaret’s?”
Kaladin lifted his shoulders. “Should we assume they willna?” he said.
“I think it would be foolish not tae assume that, at some point, they will come. There’s not much between the mouth of the River Nith and Dumfries, so if they head up the road and stop at every farm or church tae look for their captive, at some point, they’ll come tae St. Margaret’s. ”
“And ye simply tell them that the woman is not within the walls.”
Kaladin shook his head. “That is the problem,” he said.
“The abbess at St. Margaret’s is a woman named Mother Michael.
Ye already know that St. Margaret’s is a fighting order.
They protect women and children. Mother Michael is convinced that she’ll be able tae fight off the Serpent People and protect the injured woman, no matter what.
Mother Michael’s confidence in their fighting ability will compel her tae tell the Serpent People that, indeed, the woman they seek is within the walls of the abbey. And they canna have her.”
Lares sighed heavily, looking at Caelus, at Lucan, and finally his wife. He could see their grim faces. He certainly didn’t want to drag his wife and daughter into a battle, but it sounded as if there may be little choice.
His attention returned to Kaladin.
“And ye were riding tae Darien for help?” he said.
Kaladin nodded. “Aye,” he said. “I’ve been riding since yesterday. How close am I tae the border?”
“Close,” Lares said. “But ye needn’t summon Darien because I’m here. We’ll go tae St. Margaret’s with ye and reinforce the ranks. But I’m sending yer mother and sister back tae Annan first.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Mabel said, outraged. Before Lares could reply, she looked at Kaladin. “You said that Matty was ill?”
Kaladin nodded. “Aye,” he said. “So is the injured woman. She passed on whatever is making her ill and now he has it, too. He was the one who carried her from the river. Estevan went intae Dumfries yesterday tae find medicine for him.”
“Did he?”
“He brought something back for him.”
Mabel sighed sharply. “I must see to him,” she said. “His mother would never forgive me if I did not and tragedy befell him. I will tend him myself.”
“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” Lares said as gently as he could. “I’m certain the nuns at St. Margaret’s are seeing tae his needs well enough.”
Mabel pursed her lips. “Rubbish,” she said, turning for her horse. “Zora, find your mount. We are going to St. Margaret’s of Loch Doom.”
Zora moved swiftly because Mabel’s orders were not meant to be ignored. “Can I help, Mama?” she asked.
“Of course you can help,” Mabel said. “You will be a great help. Now, if your father would stop standing there with his mouth gaping and help me mount, we can be on our way.”
Lares hadn’t realized his mouth was open. But, then again, Mabel’s bold decisions always had his mouth hanging open because he couldn’t believe her at times. She’d heard all of the information about the situation, but still, she wanted to go.
“Mae,” he said, moving over to her, “did ye not hear Kal? There may be a battle.”
Mabel gestured for him to lift her up to her horse. “I heard,” she said. “And if there is a battle, you’ll need someone to tend the wounded. Zora and I will do it.”
There was no talking her out of it. Lares knew that.
They all knew that. With great regret, Lares lifted his wife onto her horse and then helped his daughter get settled.
When he turned around, he could see his sons standing around, uncertain about what to do next, and he simply motioned to them to mount their steeds.
That settled the question as to whether or not Lares was going to permit his wife and daughter to join them at St. Margaret’s.
Evidently, it was going to be family affair.
Within minutes, the entire army was moving out.
Help, for the Templar nuns of St. Margaret’s, was on its way.