Chapter 12
“Is the feast to your favor, Lady Fawnella?” Nella heard Holger inquire after they partook a heavy helping in spiced apples.
“Very much, the spices are delicious.” The cinnamon played as strong with her tastebuds as the fresh minstrel did his harp for the feasters.
“Not as delicious as you, my lady.”
The sweet taste in her mouth turned sour.
Why? She ground her own teeth which matched Callum’s while her Scotsman sat on her right.
Holger’s words were meant to raise her gown; this was why.
Brayden, who sought the basin near the entry for washing, had touched on it when they had ridden together the day before about being a widow.
It was the root in what was happening here.
This braggart had been unleashing suggestive comment after suggestive comment for hours as course after course was presented!
Could she find another means for Callum to question this arse in private before she gave in to the want of taking her trencher and breaking it over the arrogant grin flashing at her?
“What say you to that, my lady? Spice is the blood of the bedchamber.” Aye, there must be another way to lead this windbag away to a place for questioning; tell him what you think about his vulgar display!
She set her hands in her lap demurely while taking a word from Alaina’s colorful vocabulary.
“I believe you to be on the hunt, Lord Kolson, for that most endearing of all creatures for a hard man’s cock.
A widow.” The Northman’s eyes became bulbous.
She leaned toward him whispering fiercely, “I say you and all other men whether they are Scotsmen or Northmen or any with a tail between their legs seek out those who have been ‘harvested’ before by a husband. Considering all the while ‘why not plow the field once more?’ I say enough! The purpose I remained at an abbey after my husband died was to remain far from any of your sort.” True!
“You and your kind are a blight upon any who wear a gown. You may lavish your affections upon another; my skirt nor my widow’s dowry shall never be either of yours to claim. ”
The roar by the hall drowned her words with the exception of her Callum. “You heard the lady.” Callum growled the words. “Take your leave.”
The chair scraped the floor as Holger stood then walked away as she whispered at Callum, “Forgive me, I could not endure a moment more; alas, I have thwarted our chance in luring him away to a place of our choosing…”
“Nella, do not worry for this,” Callum assured. “Another way will present.”
A deep chuckle caused a rising by her glance at the Northman who bore a grin headed back for her.
This is unexpected. “I could not wait till my return to declare I believe a lady with spirit the most endearing creature,” he retorted.
“A rare find is she; I shall seek the garderobes then I yearn to hear all your considerations regarding those with ‘tails between their legs’.”
The Northman began walking away past Sir Brayden who re-approached.
Perhaps if she had been a lady who was well versed in numerous men seeking her hand this task would have been as easy to juggle as the seasoned jester who reappeared, about to perform with torches. “Callum” – she leaned closer – “why is he taken with me? I just insulted him unto his root.”
Callum’s eyes held as much fire as the torches being tossed with ease before them. “A challenge, Nella, will also strike a man to his root,” he declared.
“Callum, I…”
‘The one claiming to be the Benefactor is finally leaving, looks like he is striding for the garderobes.’
Fraud! Lord Kolson was not the Benefactor? She grabbed Callum’s sleeve then tilted her skull more.
‘The true Benefactor seeks an example set,” a voice part hiss sounded.
Hiss. Here. Hiss was here! The one from the abbey who had given the first order.
She looked up from her elevated seat. No one, ugh!
They must be on the passageway Holger had just taken.
“Make a strong example of this fraud then we meet in Dundee upon market day for your coin.”
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
Tap, tap, tap, raced the pair like two rats.
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, was the commander’s heavier sound signature from Hiss’s stride.
“Nella? What do you harken to?” Callum murmured.
“Lord Kolson is an imposter,” she relayed quickly.
“There are three Scots on the passageway hidden from our vantage. Two are striding after Lord Kolson toward the garderobes. I believe they mean to slay him. The command was given by another taking leave the opposite way who took the order from the Benefactor himself. Callum, the commander is Hiss from the abbey.”
Callum immediately stood, as did she. “Sir Brayden.” He fetched his bow and quiver which had rested next to him.
“It appears Holger is not only a hammer but liar as well. He is not the Benefactor but those who are with the elusive Scot are trailing after him toward the garderobes with intent to slay while the commander has taken leave another direction.”
Brayden’s palm went for his sword’s hilt as the three of them bolted for the archway leading into the passage. “Sir Brayden, seek the northern lord, hold him. There are still questions regarding why he lied.”
“Aye.” Sir Brayden charged left as they went right.
Clad in leather, her feet still protested on the stern granite passageway floor at a full run. She grabbed her skirts with both hands as the torches turned into a blur on her periphery. Callum threw the full quiver over his shoulder, grabbed an arrow, and raised the bow in his grasp, nocking it.
At the passageway’s juncture in four different directions, they only found shadows playing tricks like demons lurking on the granite walls between the tapestries. A few servers approaching stared at Callum with open curiosity and concern.
They both glanced each direction frantically. Not there, not there, not there, no!
“A lone Scot,” Nella said to a young page who had become frozen in place at the sight of her armed knight.
“Has he traveled past this way? Please, lad, ’tis of great importance.
” A tiny shake in a face with wide eyes was their answer.
Callum swore under his breath as she closed her gaze. Strong chronicle.
‘Lass, set that goblet down and make ready to enjoy a ride hidden from anyone’s view.’ Not him.
‘Where are more apples from Cook? They devoured the first cluster at a brisk pace.’ Not him.
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. One set of steps, same sound signature; had to be him.
Her eyes burst open as her feet raced into flight like a doe across the highlands. “Callum, he has ventured this direction – make haste!”
Running down the fresh passage, she stared up at the next choice of turn. Left or right? Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. Right.
At the turn, an elder laundress, arms filled with linens, shouted at Callum, “Put the arrow to the quiver or you shall hurt someone, you dark-haired bastard!”
They bore past the laundress, Callum directly beside her, toward the doorway leading where the cursing laundress had emerged.
A new massive chamber appeared by torchlight littered with casks half-filled with ashen water, and those washing the cloth in them by beating the fabric with wooden rods.
A scream tore the air from a laundress near the entryway who spotted Callum.
All movements halted. The action caused a turn from the lean stranger clad in a dark cloak which appeared part dragon wing at the way it swirled around him.
“Nella,” Callum growled, while stepping before her same as a granite wall, “remain behind me.”
The hood lingered over Hiss’s features so only eyes peered at them through the shadows cast upon his face. He looks like a grim reaper. Her feet remained planted behind Callum.
A chuckle sounding part hiss, same as a snake, echoed before he grabbed a young laundress who had been folding near him around her waist. A fresh scream by the innocent ripped across the chamber as Hiss used the laundress as a shield from Callum’s nocked weapon.
“Aim, now, archer!” Hiss challenged.
“You are a brave one to hide behind an innocent lass,” Callum snarled as he tightened the bow string.
“Nawww,” he replied darkly, “a clever one is my calling. You have the look of a noble heart, ack, weak is your calling! You may land an arrow into her then a second to me. However, you will not. I gathered as much by your demand to place your bonny lady behind you.” He paused, looking at Nella.
“Bonny one indeed. Your move, noble heart.”
Everything in the chamber turned as still as the granite walls except for the water which had been swirling in the casks by momentum.
Callum took a step forward. “Release her and I will aim for your shoulder not skull.”
“Nae, I believe the soft shield is rather to my liking,” he countered, and began to back up, dragging the wide-eyed captive before him.
The door. The bastard was headed for the far door that led out to the covered arcade which would take him to the kitchens with the innocent lass in his grip.
Callum cursed something in Gaelic under his breath as the stalemate continued when the captor pulled the lass with him for the only way out.
At the last moment he threw her forward toward Callum, who lowered the bow when the possible shot was lost while Nella dove forward, catching her.
The door was slammed by the stranger as he vanished from the chamber. “I am well,” the laundress assured them, then looked at Callum, demanding, “Go seize the arsehole!”
Callum tore for the door. Bang! The oak protested when he ripped it open, and the covered arcade leading for the kitchens came into view. The coward, with hood raised, appeared at the arcade’s far side near the kitchen’s entry where he rushed inside.
“Nella,” Callum ordered, “shadow behind me, lest he seeks to charge us.”
“Aye.”