Chapter Twenty-Five
Love Letters from Largs
The Battle of Largs drew me in because so little was written about it. But there were tales of a Scottish warrior in a golden helm.
A lad known as Lucky Loki.
Chapter Five
Alex and Brodie at court with an obnoxious baron and a cruel jarl, both wanting to control Celestina. Alex is the one with the king’s favor in the chaos.
Celestina’s father moved to strike her again, and she brought up a trembling hand to protect her face. “You are a whore, just like your mother before you. I knew it.” Her eyes closed, but the blow never connected.
A low growl ripped through the haze of her fear.
Her eyes flew open in time to see Brodie lift her father into the air and slam him against the wall.
Her father’s eyes protruded from their sockets in shock, or so she thought.
Then she realized Brodie was holding him by the throat, choking his windpipe so that he gasped for air.
Her father swung his fists at Brodie, but his captor never once flinched. Celestina fell back against the opposite wall, paralyzed by the sight in front of her.
Brodie slammed her father against the wall over and over again, easily avoiding the older man’s attempts to pummel him.
“You filthy swine! How dare you hit your own flesh and blood! You slapped your own daughter for nothing. No reason. You will rot in hell, you slime. If you hit her again, I will kill you with my bare hands. You should be protecting your daughter, no’ hurting her. ”
Brodie’s bellows rang out in the corridor.
Celestina heard a flurry of activity headed their way, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her father and the look on his face.
He was demented, beyond furious that Brodie had interfered with his punishment of her.
While a part of her cheered for her hero, another part of her wanted to run, afraid of what would happen if her father ever managed to free himself from Brodie’s grasp.
“Guards, guards! Save this man from the wild savage who’s attacking him!” Her betrothed stood watching the scene unfold from the end of the corridor, spewing lies for all to hear. “The Highlander has gone mad. Stop him!” Hatred and fear poured from him as he stared at Brodie.
The hall soon filled with the king’s guards.
Her betrothed continued to screech, but she was unable to distinguish any more words in the sound.
Three guards surrounded Brodie and the swift sound of metal scraping against metal filled the air as the guards pulled their swords from their sheath, all three aiming their sharp edges at Brodie’s neck.
Still, he did not release his hold on the baron.
Once Brodie was contained, Ivarsson sauntered toward the group of men. “Now kill him.”
“Nay!” Even Celestina surprised herself with the power of her vehemence.
“Kill him, I say.” Her betrothed spoke with little emotion, but his face took on a twisted look. “And please make it painful. The lad deserves it.”
The guards didn’t move to follow the command that Ivarsson had no right to give them. Loud steps echoed down the corridor as the king and his personal guards approached. Her betrothed finally stepped aside to make way for them.
As he approached the melee, the king finally spoke. “You will not kill him, guards, but Brodie, you must release your hold on my baron.”
Brodie squeezed a touch harder on the baron’s windpipe. The baron’s face, beet red, sneered at him. “Your Grace, the man’s cruelty to his own daughter is unconscionable to me. The baron has no honor to treat his own lass as he does.”
“Surely, you must be mistaken, Grant. I am sure the baron would never hurt his daughter, though now that I look at her, I can see a red mark on her cheek. Did you inflict that on her, Baron?” The king’s words held no fury, no anger. He remained in complete control.
The baron wheezed. “Nay.”
“Nay, you think no’? I saw you do it with my own two eyes.” Brodie said. “Please check his daughter’s left arm and you will see more evidence of his abuse.”
King Alexander reached out to Celestina and asked, “May I, my lady?”
Celestina held her arm still while the king carefully slid up the sleeve of her gown. Rather than meet his gaze, she cast her eyes downward as her father had taught her to do.
“Child, you may look at me.”
Celestina’s eyes met his. Her father was not in her line of sight because Brodie stood in front of him.
“Did your own father inflict these bruises?”
Celestina’s father kicked and squirmed in an attempt to get away from the Highlander.
The king turned to him and shouted, “Baron, control your temper.” He returned to her and lowered his voice. “Please ignore your father. Did he do this to you?”
Celestina knew she would bear the brunt of this inquisition. Her father could hear her words, but she didn’t think he could see her clearly. She nodded ever so slightly, making sure the king saw her signal. He nodded his own head in response. She then spoke loud and clear, “Nay, my king.”
Her father relaxed, but unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to miss her nod. Brodie exploded, “Celestina, tell the truth. Your Grace, can you no’ see she is afraid of her own sire? He did this to her and who knows what else?”
“Release the baron, Grant.” King Alexander whispered his order.
“But….”
“I am ordering you to release him as your king.” One of the guard’s swords drew blood on Brodie’s neck, and he finally loosed the baron, who fell to the floor panting and massaging his windpipe. The swords remained trained on Brodie’s neck.
When the baron regained his breath, he huffed out his demand for fair punishment of his treatment, “Kill the savage. How dare he threaten me! He had his hands on my daughter when I came down the corridor. I want him dead, my king. If you wish for her hand in marriage to Ivarsson, kill him now.”
“Before anything else happens, I will ask you for your promise that you will not abuse your daughter further.” King Alexander stood over Celestina’s father, his arms crossed as he awaited an answer.
The baron stood, tugging his clothes in indignation at the king’s command. “I do not need to give you such a promise as I have never hurt my daughter.” His hand swung toward her in dismissal. “Does she appear abused? She is perfectly fine.”
Celestina held her shock at bay, unable to believe her father would lie this way to the king himself.
“Nevertheless, I require your promise…and I will have it before I mete out Brodie Grant’s punishment for his part in this situation.” The king’s chin raised a notch as he waited.
Celestina wrung her hands. Oh, how she wished things had unfolded differently.
What a jumble this entire evening had become.
Her father’s protests told her exactly how angry he was, giving her an inkling of how she would suffer on the morrow, regardless of whatever promises he made the king.
The baron’s treatment of her did not constitute abuse in his eyes, so nothing would change.
And Brodie Grant, her savior, still had three swords at his throat because he’d tried to defend her.
Her betrothed’s actions were completely out of control, too.
He had seemed delighted at the possibility that death might be meted out as just punishment, and in the corridor, no less.
What did that obvious violent streak indicate for their marriage?
“Fine,” the baron rubbed his throat, “you have my promise, my king. Now in exchange, I expect you to hang that animal.”
“’Tis a bit extreme, don’t you think, Baron?” The king clasped his hands behind his back.
The baron straightened his neckwear. “No, I want him dead. He almost killed me in a completely unprovoked attack.” Clearly agitated, his eyes darted around the room, searching for support among the others.
“Your Grace, the swords,” Brodie asked. “I have released the baron, I ask for release in turn.”
The man Celestina had been promised to marry stepped in closer, still not venturing anywhere near Brodie—so he was not only cruel, but a coward.
“Kill him, my king. If you want our continued support in your endeavor to gain back the Isles, you will kill him for his actions. He is a savage Highlander who knows not how to act properly and respectfully.” His voice rose as he spoke.
“Kill him, I say. Kill him now for his insult to our station.”
“Yes,” bellowed the baron. “Kill him now.”
“Kill him, King Alexander,” Ivarsson repeated. “Kill him and make an example of anyone who wishes to go against your reign. Kill him now to guarantee your win.” He would not back down.
Celestina stared at the two men who held her future in their hands, unable to believe the cruelty and unveiled hatred bouncing between them.
How could they condone the death of an innocent man?
Brodie Grant had stood up for her honor, and the two men who should honor her most wanted him dead. This was all so wrong!
“Nay, please nay.” She turned to King Alexander. “Please do not do it, my king. He was only trying to protect me.” She had to sway his mind.
Ivarsson barked, “Celestina, close your mouth. A woman’s opinion is of no value. We do not wish to hear your thoughts.”
Her betrothed’s insult neither surprised nor hurt her. He was only speaking to her in the manner her own father had done for years.
“Kill him,” her father screamed, his voice so loud in the contained hallway that she had to cover her ears. “He is an insult to all of the Scottish. I say kill him.”
“Stop, stop, all of you, please stop.” Celestina moved in front of Brodie, as if to protect him. “Please do not do this. He does not deserve to die because of me.”
“When will you learn your place, girl?” The baron reached for her but he pulled his hand back when he saw the look on the king’s face.