Beloved Ruins, Book 1 Page 18
“Yet, if Laird Dalldon were no more?”
“Is he ill?”
“Not the last I saw of him,” Osgar answered.
“Perhaps you might explain Tam’s plan a little more fully.” He finally noticed the way Osgar looked at the empty chair and said, “Sit, if you will.”
“Thank you.” As soon as he sat, he let out a sigh of relief, and then waited until Laird Swinton sat across the table from him. “Tam thinks that if you claim to have Seona, his father will come to fetch her. When he does...”
“I am to kill him?”
“Aye,” Osgar said.
“A sword fight, or do I dump hot oil on his head? Perhaps I might arrange to have him attacked on the way here, or declare him a thief and have him beheaded? Which do you believe his son would prefer?”
Osgar was not at all certain if Laird Swinton was serious or making fun of him, so he declined to answer.
“Speak up, Lad. How does Tam imagine I am to get away with such a thing?”
“I...I suspect he dinna think it through.”
“I suspect not. Is Seona as handsome as she was when last I saw her?”
“She is. In all my travels, I have yet to see a lass as bonnie as she.”
“And you deny knowin’ where she is?”
“If I knew, I would collect the reward myself.”
At that, Swinton chuckled. “Has her father not vowed to kill her? She quite handily shamed him by runnin’ off.”
“Aye, but Tam has not. Once he is free and Seona is returned, he shall see that she marries...” Osgar began.
“The Frenchman. So you said before. Yet, he cannae do it until his father is dead and Tam has his father’s funds, am I right?”
“Precisely.”
Laird Swinton cast his eyes down and remained quiet for a considerable time before he spoke again. “I admit I am tempted.”
Convinced he was about to persuade him, Osgar dared to crack a hint of a smile. “Name your price.”
“I have heard Tam is more like his father than he knows. Would I not be tradin’ one serpent for another?”
“He is young still and can be persuaded.”
“Are you the one who shall tell Dalldon that I have his daughter?”
Osgar nodded. “Aye, and that he is to come for her himself or you shall not release her.”
Again Laird Swinton paused to entertain the idea a little more fully. “I find a great deal of pleasure in the idea – a great deal indeed. Tell Tam my price is ten thousand pounds and not a shillin’ less.”
Osgar did not hide his relief as he stood up. “I shall tell him.”
“One last question. What have you to gain from all this?”
“‘Tis simple,” Osgar answered. “I wish to see Dalldon dead as much as you do.” There was nothing he dreaded more than getting back on his horse, and he longed for a cup of whatever Laird Swinton was drinking, but he thought not to press his luck. Instead, Osgar got up, half bowed and then left.
As soon as he was gone, another man stepped out of the shadows inside Laird Swinton’s keep. “Shall I go get her?”
Swinton shook his head. “MacGreagor will not so easily give her over. There is time yet, let him keep her for now. Besides, ‘tis better if she is not here when Dalldon comes.”
“Agreed.”
“Ready my guard. ‘Tis time to pay MacGreagor a visit.”
SINCE HE WAS NEARBY, Osgar decided to see if he could talk to Grizel in private. However, he learned when he took her there, that the MacGreagors had an odd way of whistling the approach of strangers, and that was something he hoped to avoid. Therefore, he tied his horse to a tree near the entry to the glen and made his way through the forest on foot. It felt good to walk for a change anyway. So far, the people in the glen paid him no attention and went about their business as usual.
He fervently hoped he would not have to sneak into the castle to find her, and was relieved when he saw her sitting on a log at the edge of the forest, on his same side of the glen.
“Seona?” he whispered as soon as he thought he was close enough. Apparently she did not hear him, so he took a step closer. “Seona?”
Abruptly, she turned her head, and as soon as she recognized him, she stood up and darted into the forest. Grizel threw herself into his arms and held on tight. “‘Tis finally over?”
“Not quite yet, but soon.” He drew back to see her face. “Are you well?”
“Aye, but never have I been so miserable. I wish to go home.”
“I know, but ‘tis not yet time. Tam has a plan, a very good plan, but...”
“But what? Can he not just kill him when father is not expectin’ it?”
Afraid someone could overhear, Osgar glanced around, took hold of her hand and led her deeper into the forest.”
“Tam cannae. With you missin’, your father constantly keeps a guard at the ready wherever he goes.”
Grizel put her hands on her hips, “My brother lacks all measure of bravery, you mean.”
“Nay, he is just a bit more cautious than we wish him to be. It will happen, you simply must wait.”
“I tire of waitin’.”
“You are not happy here?” Osgar asked.
“How do you imagine I can be happy in a place like this? Michael gives me a maid who must be taught everythin’, and...”
“What,” he asked after she paused.
“I am not well liked.”
“Of course not. Did you expect to be? You know very well how lasses are jealous of you and how every lad wants you. ‘Tis no different here than anywhere else.”
“Does father send guards to look for me? I have yet to see one if he has.”
“I know not how many, but several I am certain. If they come, will Laird MacGreagor give you up?”
“He dinna say, but he is very protective of the lasses. I find his manners where they are concerned ridiculous. He could be a far greater laird if he dinna give his attentions to them instead of gainin’ more wealth.”
“Well, ‘tis not to fret over,” said Osgar. “You shall not be here long enough to care.”
“What of the king? Has my father lost favor with the king?”
“I hardly think that possible. Your father gives generously to help pay the debt Scotland owes to the English. The king cannae afford to turn away from him – not yet anyway.”
“Tam shall not be foolish in that regard once he is laird. We have talked of it often and he agrees – let the king of Scotland pay what is owed to the king of England some other way.”
Osgar smiled at the propensity for greed Grizel and her brother shared. “I completely agree.”
“Is Tam well?”
“Quite. He is...”
The first whistle signaling visitors sounded a distance away, and when it was followed by a closer one, Grizel caught her breath. “Father has found me,” she whispered.
“‘Tis highly unlikely, I assure you.” Osgar kept the two of them well concealed among the trees and bushes as he looked for a better vantage point. When he found one, they knelt down together to watch.
The man riding into the glen was surrounded by guards, and as Osgar watched, the light of recognition filled his eyes. “Laird Swinton,” he whispered.
“What is he doin’ here?”
“I am as amazed as you.”
“No lad in all the world hates my father more than Laird Swinton. Do you suppose he knows I am here?”
“‘Tis doubtful he even knows you have run off,” Osgar lied.
Grizel thoughtfully asked, “I wager he has far more wealth than Michael. Has he yet taken a second wife now that the first has passed?”
Osgar turned to look her in the eye. He cared not what she did, but going to Swinton before time might ruin everything. “I did hear he is betrothed.”
“Oh, what a pity that is.”
“Indeed,” Osgar breathed.
BEFORE THE REPEATED whistles could reach Michael’s ears, the guard on watch
in the south tower raced down the stairs and then burst into the Great Hall.
“Laird Swinton comes,” the guard announced.
“Laird Swinton?” Michael asked. “We have not seen him in a year...perhaps more. I wonder what he is about.”
“He brings a heavy guard with him.”
“I see. Well, we have no quarrel with him.”
By the time Michael left his Great Hall, Laird Swinton and his ten-man guard was already halfway to the castle. The MacGreagors stopped what they were doing to watch, and even Rory set a rock down and walked up the path to the outer courtyard.
Michael crossed the inner courtyard and then went out the main door. As was the custom, he stood with his feet apart and his hands clasped behind his back in a nonthreatening manner. He was surprised to see so many guards with his fellow laird, but Swinton always did have a flare for the impressive.
“Michael,” Laird Swinton said as he halted and then swung down off his horse. He wore more jewelry than most, but that was not uncommon for a Swinton either. He even had jewels imbedded in the tops of his shoes. “‘Tis good to see you again.”
“And I you.” First Michael smiled and then he wrinkled his brow. “Have the English attacked?”
Laird Swinton chuckled, “If they had, I should be out fightin’ them instead of comin’ to see you.”
“Come in then and bring your lads.”
“I would rather talk to you alone.”
“I see. Come, I know a place where we shall not be interrupted.” Michael led the way through the castle and then up the stairs to the place on the outer wall he and Elena had shared a few days before. He motioned for Laird Swinton to sit, and then seated himself. The last time he saw Grizel, she was sitting on a log at the edge of the glen, but she was not there now. Hopefully, she was wise enough to stay out of sight. “Tell me, what has happened?”
“Have you heard that Laird Dalldon’s daughter is missin’?”
“Dalldon’s daughter?” Michael asked.
“Escaped is more to the point. She was to marry a Frenchman at the request of the king.”
“Oh, I see.”
“I am surprised you have not heard.”
“We heard that a lass was missin’, but she has been found.”
“I have not yet heard that, but ‘tis common for the Scots to hear conflictin’ accounts.”
“True. She is Laird Dalldon’s daughter?”
“‘Tis all over Scotland. Her father offers a five thousand pound reward for her recovery.”
“I see.”
Laird Swinton chose his words carefully. “Michael, if a lass should come to you and ask sanctuary, see that you take her in for my sake. Do as best you can to keep her safe, for treachery abounds in her regard.”
“As dire as that? From whom is she in danger?”
“Her father and I believe her brother as well. And should a lad think to collect the reward – from any number of others.”
“I see. And what might your interest be in her?”
“I mean to make her my wife. She is truly the most bonnie woman in all of Scotland.”
Michael frowned. “But is it wise to marry one as handsome as that?”
“Wise?”
“In the old MacGreagor stories, there is a laird who went daft tryin’ to keep his wife only unto himself. When he could not, through no fault of hers, he killed himself.”
Swinton watched several people walking in the far glen before he asked, “You mean that all other lads would want her?”
“And perhaps try to take her. If ‘twas me, I would soon grow weary of the battle.”
“I see what you mean and I shall give it careful consideration.” Laird Swinton stood up and walked to the edge of the outer wall. In the distance he could see the MacGreagor loch, the fields, the livestock, and the rolling hills on the other side of the road that led to Edinburgh. “I have thought to build a castle, and now I see the advantages. I can nearly see my home from here.”
“Aye,” said Michael as he joined his guest at the wall, “but what can keep other lads out can also keep a laird in.”
“Trapped, you mean?”
“Aye.”
STILL STANDING NEAR the outer wall of the castle, Michael watched Laird Swinton leave. He kept his eye on the column of men as they turned down the main road that led to Edinburgh and then took the turnoff toward the Swinton village. Long after the Swintons disappeared from sight, Michael was still watching. The last thing he ever expected was to learn that Grizel was actually Laird Dalldon’s daughter.
He couldn’t actually blame her for running, but to disobey the king of Scotland was another matter altogether – and he, Michael MacGreagor, was helping her. If found out, he would likely have to explain himself and what could he say, save that he dinna know. Unfortunately, he knew now and there was a decision to be made.
Was Grizel the Laird’s daughter, and if so, should he break his oath and take her home or perhaps to the king? He turned around and hoped to see Elena behind him, but she was not. Never had he faced a decision as grave as this, and he longed for her advice.
CHAPTER 11
FOR THE SAKE OF THE children, there were no cross words at supper that night, but as soon as Beitris came to put the children to bed and Kester left, Michael made up his mind to confront Grizel in front of Master Balric and Elena. He hoped with witnesses she could not claim a misunderstanding later. He scooted his chair back, crossed his legs and looked directly at her. “Laird Swinton came to see me today.”
“Is that who that was?” Grizel asked.
“He had quite a tale to tell. It seems Laird Dalldon’s daughter was betrothed to a Frenchman, at the request of the king. Apparently, she ran off.”
“How fascinatin’,” Grizel said, not bothering to pretend to be shocked. “Perhaps she dinna wish to marry a Frenchman, even if the king desired it.”
“Nevertheless, the king is unhappy and therefore so am I. It seems her father is offerin’ a reward for her return and I am tempted to collect it.”
“Michael, you cannae think I am Laird Dalldon’s daughter.”
“I can,” Elena muttered.
Grizel glared at the woman across the table. “I assure you, I am not.”
“Another lie?” Elena asked. “There is no end to it, is there?”
Grizel sneered, “The simple minded are always jealous of what they can never be.”
Elena returned with a defiant glare of her own. “This simple minded would never wish to be what you are.”
Michael cleared his throat. “Grizel, I require the name of the lad who has threatened to harm you.”
Grizel looked at Michael for a very long time, as if searching for an answer in his eyes. “I dinna wish to say.”
“Then I shall be forced to send you away.”
Grizel’s voice began to rise. “Away where?”
“I shall have a lad take you wherever you wish to go, but you cannae stay here.”
“Michael, if you were to marry me...” Grizel tried.
“Marry you?” Michael interrupted, “and face the king’s disfavor? You think me daft?”
“I do not think you daft,” said Grizel. “I consider you...”
“Handsome, beyond tempting, and perhaps even brilliant?” Elena interrupted. When she looked, Michael was frowning at her, so she held her tongue.
“I shall ask this but once more,” Michael said to Grizel, this time in a much more forceful tone of voice. “Name the lad who means to harm you!”
Grizel was trapped and she knew it, so she said nothing.
“Then there can be no other answer. You are Laird Dalldon’s daughter.” Again she did not answer, so Michael stood up and started to leave the room.
“If you fear the king,” said Grizel, “then take me to Laird Swinton.”
Michael stopped and turned around. “You mean to start a war between Swinton and your father?”
“I cannae prevent it. Father surely suspects Lai
rd Swinton took me anyway. I expect him to attack the Swintons, and no doubt father shall see that I die in the battle. Even so, I shall not marry a filthy Frenchman, I shall not sail to France, and I care not what the king wants.”
“Very well,” Michael said, “in the mornin’ I shall take you to Laird Swinton myself. He shall see to your safety well enough.” Again he started to walk out.
“Michael,” Elena sighed, “You cannae.”
He stopped and once more turned back. “Why not?”
“Grizel is with child and it is likely a MacGreagor child. If her father kills her, he kills the child with her.”
Michael slowly took his eyes off of Elena and looked at Grizel. “Is this true?”
Grizel did not bother to hide her grin. “I can stay, then?” she watched Michael storm out of the room without answering. Balric, she noticed was staring at her as if he had no idea what had just happened, and Elena still had that same boring glare on her face. “Thank you, Elena. You have saved me.”
“A turn I regret already.” Elena stood up, and chose to leave the dining room through the door opposite the one Michael walked out of. Upstairs, she checked on the children, found them tucked into bed with Beitris telling them a story, and then went to her room.
Long into the night, she stood at the window watching the scant dusk turn to a starlit night. All she could do now was wait to see if Michael offered to marry Grizel.
In the Great Hall, Michael poured himself a full goblet of ale, took a long drink, and stood beside the fire watching the dying embers crackle and burn. His choices where Grizel was concerned were few as it was, but a MacGreagor child on the way meant he had no choice at all.
IN THE COURTYARD OF Edinburgh castle, women carried baskets of goods into the castle, men worked daily to build King David’s tower, while other men waited hoping for an audience with the king. Two lairds, having just come out of the castle, walked together to the foot high stone wall at the outer edge of the courtyard.
Laird Cormag Kennedy put a foot atop the wall, and took a moment to enjoy the view of the town below and the vast countryside in the distance. “So the rumors are false, she is not found after all,” he said keeping his voice down. “MacGreagor has her.”