Page 18 of A Constant Blaze

“It seems she took the opportunity of Adam’s departure to depart herself,” Mairead said.

Donald frowned and sat down heavily. “She never made a secret of her loyalty to the King of Scots. But there was definitely something between her and Adam. She covered for him when the dreams swamped him at their wedding. She looked after him. Shemustlove him.”

“Donald mac Malcolm, you are an innocent,” Mairead said with a hint of tartness. “Do you not know that most betrayals take placebecauserather than in spite of love? If Christian loves him, does he love her? And with Adam, how in God’s name would she know?”

“Did you know how he felt about you?”

“He liked to bed me,” Mairead said brazenly, “and he liked to talk with me. I made him laugh. Beyond that, I really have no idea.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Malcolm said abruptly. “We can do nothing about Christian now. We’ll have to proceed and be ready to alter our plans if necessary. Mairead, whatisthe plan?”

Chapter Five

By dawn, whenthe guards came to let Mairead out, Donald was already dressed in her clothes and instructed to the best of his poor ability to walk and move like a woman. His head was covered by a red veil and a capacious shawl into which he wept copiously, even before the guard opened the door.

“Come on, love, cheer up,” the soldier urged. “You should be happy for him!”

Donald sniffed and glanced back over his shoulder at his father. Malcolm, sitting on the bed half-dressed, smiled once and reached for his boots. From the other bed came gentle snores.

Donald sobbed and rushed from the room, clutching the shawl to his eyes.

Mairead was right. The soldiers barely looked at him on the way out. They’d no real reason to check on the departure of the whore who’d arrived with permission the night before. They were more concerned with the protection of the king, who’d ridden into the castle last night to make Malcolm MacHeth’s release formal. In the light of those major events, the threat from Adam MacHeth to the northeast and Somerled of the Isles to the west all made quite trivial the departure of said Malcolm’s whore.

And so, Donald simply walked—well, stumbled, half running and constantly weeping—out of the castle, across the bridge to the south, and on toward the town which had sprung up beyond the castle walls. It was only just beginning to get light, and although the castle was awake and bustling, the road was quiet. No one was around to see him turn away from the town and into the forest.

This, now, was the difficult and the dangerous part. For Mairead had had no idea who, if anyone, would meet him here, or if, once out, he had to make shift for himself, which would be damned difficult in this garb. He needed to beg or steal some other clothes. And a sword. At the very least.

Still, it was sweet to smell the fresh, damp air of freedom after his weeks of incarceration. How much sweeter would it be to his father aftertwenty-two years? Even now, Donald’s mind boggled at that length of time, almost the whole of his life. But he was warmed by knowledge of his father—quiet, erudite, funny at times, and not at all like the wild warrior he’d expected. Twenty years of captivity had done that to him. But they hadn’t made him boring.

And Mairead… Mairead, whom he’d suspected of being in love with his brother, seemed instead to be more than half in love with his father. It went against Donald’s sense of honor to leave her in prison while he walked away, and yet he couldn’t see any other way that would work. His father wouldn’t leave if Donald didn’t, and so he’d gone, more aware than ever of what he personally owed to Mairead.

At one point during the night, when Malcolm had snatched some sleep, Donald had asked her bluntly why she risked her life for his family.

She’d shrugged. “Because it sounded exciting when Somerled suggested it. I’m not the stuff meek wives are made of. And I confess I had a littletendrefor Adam. I was happy to help him.”

“Do you still have atendrefor Adam?”

He heard the smile in her voice as she said, “There are many kinds of tenderness and love. Of course, I love Adam. But I grew up.”

And yet there she’d lain beside his father, not even touching him; but it was the place she’d chosen. Donald wasn’t sure how he felt about that. His father hadn’t seen his wife in more than twenty years. If ever a man was entitled to infidelity—and most believed they were—surely it was this one.

“Did you ever play your disreputable part to the full?” he asked curiously.

“You mean am I your father’s whore in reality?”

“I was going to say lover.”

“The answer to both is no. For your mother’s sake, you might like to know that I was willing, but he wouldn’t touch me.”

The sound of soft thudding hooves on the forest floor broke into Donald’s reverie. They were close, so God knew how long it had taken him to register their presence. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up back in the castle, having spoiled his father’s chance of freedom, too.

Donald threw himself into a clump of trees and waited to see who rode along the track. From where he hid, he could see the dip in the forest floor that Mairead had directed him to, the place he was to meet unnamed friends of Ross who would guide him through the next stage of his mother’s plan. But blind trust was foolhardy in the circumstances. He needed to know exactly who came for him before he revealed himself.

Two horses…no, three. They slowed to a walk, and he saw a soldier and a woman on horseback. The woman led another horse by the reins, presumably to leave the soldier free to use his many weapons at will. The soldier wore de Lanson’s colors. And the woman, when she turned her head, was Cairistiona, his sister-in-law.

Cairistiona who’d gone to the king, who Mairead believed was betraying them.

“Donald?” she said, low.

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