Page 28 of The Falcon Laird
He hoped Kilglassie Castle was worth the trouble. He was sure the lady was worth any challenge…if she ever deigned to speak to him again.
They followed thestream steadily northward, Gavin weary, John silent beside him, no movement inside the litter they carried between them. Dominy rode ahead, her child asleep in her lap. Glancing up at the gray sky, Gavin then scanned the steep hills that rose on all sides: wild, impenetrable tangles of forest and bramble and rock, winter-bleak and formidable.
In the distance, the track ran close by the broad burn that flowed through moorland and swirled in two pools, running on again. Exhaustion dulled his mind. Gavin tried to remember the landmark the king’s chamberlain had described to him weeks ago in Carlisle. Ah. The pools.
“The castle is northwest of here, less than a league from those two pools,” Gavin told John. “There must be a bridge where we can cross the water.”
“Perhaps. Though most of Scotland wants for good stone bridges. We’ll have to ford the water, but getting across will not be easy with a litter. Lady Christian can share your horse, if need be.”
Gavin nodded and rode onward, looking for a place to ford. His breaths formed little frosted clouds as he rode, listening the burble of the water and the crunch of horse’s hooves over frosted turf.
A mournful sound, long and sad, startled him. He glanced up and saw a dark flash, and another, between the bare trees that fringed the base of a near hill. Gavin instinctively touched the hilt of the sword sheathed in his wide belt.
“Arrows would do us well in this place,” he said to John. “I will mention it to Hastings when I see him. We may have to defend ourselves from the local population.” He gestured toward the hilltop.
“Wolves, I think. They do not care if we be Scots or English. Flesh meat is flesh meat.” John glanced around. “These are wild hills. I will be glad of sturdy castle walls and a hearthfire at Kilglassie.”
In the hovering gray dusk, the twin pools shone like dull silver. Gavin noticed an area of shallows just before the first pool, where slabs of rock were scattered through the sluicing water. “There is our fording place.”
They slowed their horses, careful not to tilt the litter. Dismounting, they lifted the cloth-draped framework to the ground. While John walked away to speak to Dominy, Gavin took a flask from his saddle, filled it with fresh, cold water from the burn, and came back. Squatting, he opened the curtains.
Lady Christian opened one eye and looked at him. Her face was pale in the shadows, but her eyes were clear and alert, twin shards of green ice once again when she saw him.
“You have a good stamina, my lady,” Gavin said. “We must cross a stream and ride a little further.”
“I am fine. I will not die just to please you.” Her voice was a hoarse scrape of sound, her soft Gaelic accent a sweet lilt despite her bitter tone.
Gavin huffed a laugh. “Weak as you are, you have a sharp tongue and a keen memory for a grudge.”
“I do.” Her eyes snapped with anger. “And I cannot forget that you are a Sassenach with no loyalty to the Bruce.”
He sighed and offered the flask. “Thirsty?” At her curt nod, he gave her the flask. She sipped and handed it back. As he replaced the rolled leather plug, she laid a hand on his arm.
“What stream is this?”
“Not far from Kilglassie, it seems.”
“Kilglassie,” She looked at him, her eyes forest green smudges, lush and beautiful in the shadows. The ice in her gaze melted at the mention of her home. “You will truly take me there?”
“It is your home. And mine, now.”
“You have the castle, and no reason to be kind to me now. Why help me, Gavin Faulkener?”
He had sometimes wondered that himself. Perhaps, he wanted to say, he had seen a fine strong spirit locked in misery and wanted to set it free. This slight, dark, valiant girl had compelled and fascinated him from the first. Fragile and yet strong, with a fine will, and the keen sting of temper and intelligence.
“Why help me?” she repeated. “Is it for the gold of Kilglassie?”
He shrugged. “It was the cage. I did not like it. So I decided to make a change.”
“Are you ordered to imprison me elsewhere?”
“Nay.”
“When I first saw you, I was fevered. I thought you were an angel come to take me to heaven.”
“I would not call myself an angel.”
“You have wings on your surcoat.”
