Chapter 15 #2
King Alexander gave a hard stare at MacCade, who seemed to force his gaze from only wanting to look upon her after the vocal display back toward the king.
“I have watched you a long time, MacCade,” the king began.
Her mercenary’s eyes widened. “You have taken each task Sir James has thrown to you like scraps to a hound but have seen them all completed – flawlessly. Including Sturan MacNaller being clapped in irons.” Alexander stood, then circled the solar in a prowess of power only afforded a king.
“Sturan MacNaller has been a sore topic regarding many a discussion in this very chamber.” King Alexander looked at his advisors, who gave a pair of ‘ayes’ in agreement to the topic.
“Other knights in my charge have failed at such a feat, yet you have seen to his capture upon the quest placed in your hands at the very first try. Building upon this and other past victories, a decision has been made regarding your future. MacCade, you will nae longer be at a post belonging to mercenary. Kneel before your lord king, Aonghus MacCade.”
King Alexander pulled his sword with a scrape of leather scabbard, but it was his expressionless face alongside the sword pointed right at her lad’s stomach, almost calling to mind of being ready to impale him, which caused a nervous twitch in her fingers. Oh hell! Her breath caught.
The sword cut the rope bindings perfectly, then lifted to graze Aonghus’s broad shoulder with the blade’s flat side.
She inhaled – thank all! “I do hereby dub thee, Aonghus MacCade, a knight unto the Scottish realm; henceforth, you shall be known as Sir Aonghus to all. Your oath shall be taken. I shall call upon you and you shall answer the summons without question or hesitation. Arise thee, Sir Aonghus.” As it should be! She gave an inward smile.
Her stoic lad stood humbly towering over them all; her eyes blinked several times, clearing the watery blur.
Gracious, it was an unprecedented ceremony; normally it was seen to by the clergy.
Aonghus bowed once more to the king before his eyes captured hers.
Was it a look she would remember when every other one faded? Forever-ever!
Her attention was stolen back toward Alexander when he retook his throne with his next thoughts airing into words, “I would care for you to speak once more upon this prophecy regarding your clan.”
An eagerness in the light of what just transpired caused her hasty response.
“It has been centuries since one in my clan has held the legacy of a fate-seer. My sire declared I would be one of the rarest in my line given I was born under a full harvest moon,” she explained.
“There are certain elements which must be met to ensure the talent remains seated into my grasp.”
“The meaning regarding this?” the Lord Chancellor demanded, smoothing his fingers over his clergy robes like they were feathers. Hmm, not good – a possible foe at court.
“’Tis obvious; if certain elements are broken,” the Lord Chamberlain hissed, his bald head as shiny as the polished coin he counted, “the fate-seer is nae longer deemed to harbor any value.” Definite foe at court.
“Do not speak of the lassie as if she were a filly to be sold,” the Lord Constable retorted, eyeing his fellow advisors with a disdainful look. Possible friend at court.
The king’s eyes were softer than the foe advisors. “What is this element regarding?”
Her cheeks warmed. “My maidenhead’s veil must remain intact.”
The king questioned, “King H?konsson, alongside Lord Kollungr – they know of this demand upon you?” He called it a demand – he knew it was a burden to never lay with the lad you could love or become with child.
What an extraordinary king – no, Scotsman – one takes away the title, he was a Scotsman, but what a heart of gold hidden in there. This was worth every risk to get here.
Her eyes looked at Aonghus, then back to the king. “Aye, my lord king.”
The king darted his eyes between her and Aonghus.
Why? “Then a maid you shall nae longer be in their eyes or any other,” he said, cunningly.
“There is an assembly to leave Stirling, half a fortnight from this day, for my castle upon the shores of Ayr. A grand feast is planned,” Alexander explained.
“Terms shall be considered with a delegation from King H?konsson present. I seek you to be present as well, to gather any ‘glances’ which may aid our advancement. However, I would have them believe your talents are nae longer of any worth. Sir Aonghus, summon Sir James and Sir Sean to re-join us.”
Keirah saw Aonghus tighten beside her at the king’s demand, but he stepped to do the bidding.
Once the three re-entered the chamber, the king continued, “A husband shall be by your side, the union already ‘consummated’.” He paused to give her a side look that spoke it was to be a ruse.
“Choose from the three knights present.” Sir James’s jaw dropped as he looked at the freshly knighted MacCade.
“This is my reward to you, Keirah, given the prowess you showed in halting the poison from reaching my palate.” She paused, shocked, while he said, matter of factly as if they spoke about her picking a trim for a new gown, “If there is nae knight to your choosing within this chamber, then I may return you to the throne hall to choose among any present. However, forthwith, you will be handfasted by our Lord Chancellor, William Wishart, thus the terms bequeathed to handfasting of a year and one day shall be adhered to, if nae bairns are present.”
Of course – a year and a day. Once the Northmen were driven from the shores the ruse would be done, the handfasting vows broken.
King H?konsson had met a formidable opponent.
Obviously Alexander, whose expression appeared set in stone by determination, would see to swearing her chosen ‘husband’ to secrecy, but her eyes glimpsed back toward the three before her.
Sir James somehow seemed to grow taller, appearing to be a flaxen rooster simply at the challenge to be picked first. Absolutely not. Sir Sean only stared through his bruised eye sockets – no. Aonghus. Ohhh, her Aonghus, his brow furrowed with intensity.
There wasn’t a Highland games required to show her the valiant effects needed to win her hand.
Had she ever been drawn to another like she was to Aonghus?
No, but did she dare condemn Aonghus to being locked beside her without acting completely upon what they yearned most for?
He was knighted now; any lady or wealthy widow or lass would seek him into their bed.
How could she possibly ask him to remain listless beside her?
Her knight seemed to sense the inner battle raging; he titled his head slightly in almost a bow with silent ask for her as if saying, Aye, Cluaran, ask me for your hand.
At the unspoken gesture, she crossed the chamber then raised her bound wrists before her Scottish knight, whose fingers eagerly tore the ropes away.
The tears broke free, rushing her cheeks, which rose up in a smile toward him.
Did the twining cutting her flesh being released at his action call to mind all she felt for him? Aye!
“Sir Aonghus, I so choose,” she said, wholeheartedly. He made her heart soar with freedom and power. The choice cast, she took his offered hand for the battles and challenges which lay ahead. They would fight them – together!