Page 10 of The Guardian's Witch

“If the raiders have any idea that Lisbeth is your wife, she is in jeopardy. You’re a seasoned soldier. You know that. And there is another reason—I don’t think Wesley and Darla’s deaths were an accident. I think the incident was contrived to look like one. Wesley told me he suspected some intrigue. He needed more evidence before he brought it to your king.”

“Did he tell you what or whom he suspected?”

“No, he didn’t want to disclose anything until he was certain.”

Baffled, Alex stared at Jamie. “Why these raids? It’s more than taking livestock. Farms have been razed.” He looked down at the ground as if the answer would appear. He raised his head. “It all leads to bringing about a war with Scotland.”

“Not everyone feels the way you do. Without a king on our throne, some may see an opportunity for themselves or even a stepping stone to the English throne.”

“You’re my choice for the Scots king.”

“No.” Jamie clapped Alex on the shoulder, the worry on his face faded. “I’m simply a hotheaded highlander with a wife to care for and wee ones to raise. I leave diplomacy to those with a taste for it.” He stood. The meeting was over. “We won’t find the answer today. But I will see what I can unearth.”

“And I’ll tell Lisbeth she’s to return to the castle grounds until we sort this out.”

“Oh, you think she’ll agree so easily? I would use every bit of diplomacy if I were you. Appeal to her civic duty. And tell her the two of you are married. I left her at the hunting lodge. Stay safe...brother.” Jamie left shaking his head. “Keep the wind at your back,” he said. The forest quickly claimed him.

* * *

Lisbeth, bent over the furrows in the small garden, harvested the last of the fall carrots and tossed them into her basket. Freshly picked spring onions, assorted herbs and her favorite berries were in abundance. The berries’ sweet fragrance was too tempting. She popped one into her mouth. She stood and brushed the dirt from her hands on her apron.

“Good day, Lisbeth.”

She swung around, caught off guard by the sudden sound of Alex’s voice. A wrinkle of apprehension crossed her mind. She should have known he’d approached. Her eyes searched past his shoulders trying to make out if anyone stood behind him.

“Jamie’s not with me. He’s gone back to his wife.” He took the basket from her and escorted her to the lodge door.

They entered the main room and put her basket on the table. It was a comfortable man’s domain, lived in and casual. He sat on a chair by the hearth.

“First, I want to thank you for your care. You have my gratitude.”

She noted his formality and waited. The silence lengthened. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “I’m glad you’ve recovered. Does the wound pain you much?”

He scooted forward to sit at the edge of the chair. “No. The wound is still tender but I’m a fast healer. What can you tell me about the metal you took out of me?”

She removed the fragment from the pouch at her waist, and laid the thin sliver of steel in the palm of her hand.

“Jamie was right. It’s the tip of a dirk.” He took the metal from her and examined the engravings closely. “The etching is unique. But there’s not enough to identify the design or what it signifies.” He lifted the fragment toward the window and turned the shard slowly.

Her eyes followed the steel. “It’s not smooth like a Scot’s weapon,” she offered.

“No, it’s not.” He tucked the piece back into her pouch. “Anything else?” He held her gaze for a moment, rose from his seat, and went to the window.

His apparent unease surprised her. “The assassin dipped the blade in poison. I detected the odor at once and confirmed it when I removed it from your wound.”

“I suspected as much. A small cut wouldn’t disable me so. I’ve had worse.”

She had observed his scarred body firsthand. She knew a wound that size would not lay him low.

“Do you have any idea as to the blade’s source?” His hand traced the window’s edge.

“No, I only know its purpose.” Fear held her in place. “Whoever wants you dead will try again.”

“I suppose they will.” His hand stilled. After a few minutes he turned to face her. “You will return to the castle.” He held up his hand to stall her objection before she said anything. “I’m moving everyone to the castle grounds. It’s not a choice, not even for you. Raiders sacked the farms by the border. The villagers worry. Besides, your ability to heal will be invaluable should anything happen.” He lounged against the window frame but he was clearly uneasy.

“I can help them just as easily staying here. As a matter of fact, I am closer here to those that need me than if I was at Glen Kirk.” She hoped she looked calmer than she felt.

“Lisbeth, King Edward expects me to protect Glen Kirk and all its people.” He pushed himself away from the frame. “That includes you. I can’t protect you here. I can at Glen Kirk.” She looked away from him. The silence lengthened.

---