Chapter Twenty-Two #2
The two lairds were on patrol, so Alasdair made a decision. “Alick and Els, we must go after Aunt Jennie. We have to do everything we can for Grandsire.”
A voice called out to them then, quiet but steady. “Alasdair?”
He hurried around the partition and knelt next to his grandfather’s bed, pleased to see him awake. “Grandsire, is there something I can do for you? We’re going to get Aunt Jennie. Aunt Gracie doesn’t know how to help you.”
“Let the other two go for Aunt Jennie. You must go after her.” He closed his eyes and panted as if in severe pain. “Alasdair, please. This is just my old bones squawking at me like a hooded crow, naught to concern yourself with, but what I’ll tell you is more important. I had a dream. You must go.”
“Where? I’ll do whatever you like.”
“The lass from Clan MacLintock. You must help her. She’s in grave danger.
I don’t know…” He paused and sucked in a deep breath, holding it before he let it out again.
“I don’t know what is happening, but you need to go to MacLintock land.
Finnean came to me in my sleep and told me that his daughter needs our help.
You must go at once.” He wiped the sweat on his brow away with a sigh.
“Was there something else he said? You don’t usually sweat like that, Grandsire.”
The man closed his eyes in resignation, pausing for a few moments before he opened them again. “He said she’s in danger. Someone means to kill her. You must go.” He was silent for a moment longer, then he glanced over Alasdair’s shoulder and smiled. “And you must take her.”
When Alasdair glanced behind him, he saw his cousin Dyna, her nearly white hair pulled back in a tight plait, her light blue eyes filled with fear. “Grandsire? What’s wrong? I heard you fell.”
Their grandfather panted and held his breath again, his eyes fluttering as if he struggled to stay awake.
Suddenly, they opened wide, and he said, “Promise me, Alasdair. Promise me you and Dyna will go to MacLintock land and save Emmalin.” His voice slowed.
“Promise. Let the others go for Jennie.” His eyes fluttered shut again.
“Grandpapa!” Alasdair shouted, not caring if he was bothering the man. When the old man opened his eyes again, he said, “I’ll do it. I promise, but you must also promise me.”
His grandsire met his gaze. “What?”
“Promise me you’ll not die while I’m gone. Promise me! I am not ready to lose you. Not yet. It’s too soon.” He squeezed his grandfather’s hand, doing his best to keep him alert. He’d never let on how important this was to him, but he needed his promise.
The sly old man shut his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again, there was a twinkle in them. “Wise arse,” he whispered. “Go.”
Alasdair couldn’t help but smile.
Chapter Nine
Emmalin meets the man her father told her to trust more than any other—Alex Grant.
Alasdair and Emmalin walked past them, to a chamber at the end of the hall. It had a wide doorway, much wider than she’d ever seen.
He noticed her stare and explained, “It was built as a healing chamber. The doorway was widened to make it easier to carry people inside. I have two aunts who are renowned healers and many cousins who are learning. We’ll step in to see if he’s still awake.”
As soon as they entered the chamber, a booming voice called out, “I’m here by the fire, waiting for you.”
Alasdair took Emmalin by the hand and led her to the small hearth on the outside wall. An older man sat in a chair with a fur across his lap, a long stick resting on the floor next to him. “Grandsire, this is Emmalin of Clan MacLintock.”
“Come near the fire so I can see you, lass.”
She moved closer to greet him, reaching for his hand to give it a squeeze. His strong grip surprised her. After hearing the story of the man’s fall, she’d thought to see a decrepit old man with a grizzled beard, but this man was anything but decrepit.
Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone had heard tales of the legendary swordsman and chieftain.
“Alex Grant. I was a friend of your sire’s. He was a fine man. I’m sorry you lost him.”
“My thanks,” she mumbled, not sure what else to say to him.
“Sit down, please.” He motioned to one of the empty chairs beside him.
She sat, taking in the great man’s presence.
Her father had loved to tell the tale of how the great Alexander Grant had come to their rescue many years ago.
A neighboring clan had threatened the MacLintocks without just cause, and the famous leader had come to help them, along with warriors who had upper arms three times the size of MacLintock soldiers and unrivaled fighting skills.
They’d made quick work of their attackers, sending them off in a fright.
The two men had remained in occasional contact ever since.
Her sire had respected the man more than most.
“Grandsire, you are better after your fall?” Alasdair asked. “I was worried about you.”
“Don’t worry about me. When my time comes, I’ll go gladly to see my dear Maddie again. ’Twas just another mishap with my knee.”
Even at nearly seventy summers, an age hardly anyone achieved, the man had a commanding presence and keen eyes that followed everything in the chamber. “Tell me all,” Alex said. “I hear your husband is dead. Should I give my apologies, or are you glad to be free of the English cur?”
She couldn’t help but smile at his quick assessment of her situation. “I feel sorry for my husband…”
“But?”
“But not for myself. We never quite suited, but I felt I had no choice but to wed him. My sire told me to go along with Longshanks to keep everything peaceful.” Knowing where the Grants’ loyalties lay, she felt comfortable using King Edward’s nickname.
“But ’twas not all your papa said.”
“Aye,” she said, pausing to gather her control. “He said I was to do as instructed by Edward, hope for the best, but if the worst came to pass, I should contact you or your sons. And if my land became a war zone, I was to disguise myself and get to Grant Castle.”
Pride crossed the old man’s features, a look she’d seen in her father’s eyes on occasion. She could tell he was grateful for her sire’s belief in him. Grateful to still be of use to his fellow Scots. The look passed and his quick mind pressed on in its quest for information.
“Which I see that you have done. Your sire visited me in a dream, you know, full of concern for you. What happened, my dear?”
“A garrison of English soldiers was sent to take over my castle. My steward notified me when they were an hour away. I took a few valuables and descended into our hidden tunnel. That’s where I met your grandson.
” She fussed with her hands in her lap. The intense scrutiny in the man’s gaze was a bit unnerving.
“He had come back, you see, after leaving that morn. He had sensed something was wrong.”
“And you brought her here without any fighting, Alasdair?”
“Aye. We only had to battle three, and with Dyna’s assistance, we easily made it to our horses.”
The man nodded and scratched his jawline, then said, “But I doubt Longshanks would leave you be. If I know the bastard well enough, he must have summoned you to England, probably to use you as another pawn. How long did he give you?”
Shocked again at the accuracy of the man’s assessment, she didn’t hesitate to tell him everything. “I was told to report to King Edward at Berwick Castle within a fortnight. The order was delivered a sennight ago.”
Alex Grant leaned back in his chair, grinned, and said, “You’ll be leaving before then. We have to get there before they have the chance to hide their lies.”
Anxious to find out what the wise old man thought of her situation, she asked, “Why is he commanding me to go to Berwick? I’m supposed to be in mourning. I thought he’d leave me be for a while.”
“King Edward will do what he must to subdue the Scots and stay in control. Make no mistake about it, Edward’s ultimate goal is to become king of both England and Scotland.
The more land he hands over to his English barons, the easier it will be for him.
He’ll do aught he can to subdue our people.
What I’m unsure of is why he’d send a garrison of soldiers to overtake your land while you’re in mourning.
It would benefit him more to marry you off to another baron. ”
He thought for a moment before he continued, “My guess is that they weren’t acting on Longshanks’s orders. Another nobleman might be trying to force you into marriage with him. Tell me, where were your husband’s estates?”
“I’m not sure of all of them. I know he owns one in London, but he also owns a manor in Berwick.”
“And that’s where the king said you are to report to him?”
She nodded.
Alex leaned back in his chair and said, “I don’t like that. Something is afoot. Alasdair, you and your cousins will have to uncover the truth. Mayhap the information will be helpful to the Bruce.” He reached for his goblet and held it up to both of them. “To Robert the Bruce and the Scots.”
Alasdair and Emmalin both held their goblets up and said, “Long live our king.”
Chapter Ten
Alasdair has a special relationship with his grandfather…
He enveloped her in his arms with a low growl, his lips meeting hers in the moonlight. She parted her lips, and before he could delve inside with his tongue, she did so to him. She would be a passionate one in bed if he had to wager.
She tasted as sweet as he’d expected, her body melding to him as it had in that underground room. He slanted his mouth over hers, their tongues dueling in the oldest ritual in the world, yet it seemed fresh with Emmalin.
She was beautiful, warm, intelligent, and bold. Aye, he liked her boldness. He savored it.
Her husband had been a fool.
He ended the kiss, the wind now howling in a manner that cautioned a storm was on the horizon. He kissed her forehead and tucked her in close against the wind. She shivered, and he thought to remove her from the cold elements around them.