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Authors: Carol Umberger

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BOOK: The Mark of Salvation
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To his surprise, Morrigan softened her tone. “Mother, when I find a man who understands what it means to be a warrior, who can allow me to be who I am and not expect me to change for him, then and only then will I marry.”

Morrigan did not look at Fergus as she spoke, but Ceallach wondered if the words were meant as a warning to the man. Fergus leaned toward her. “I wish you success in finding this man, Lady Morrigan,” he said.

Morrigan looked up at him and swiftly searched his eyes. A second later, she was busily chatting with her sister again.

Ceallach admired Fergus for choosing to court the fiery woman. Few men would be comfortable with her strength, both physical and mental. She did not strike him as some demure and retiring lady. She was more like the ancient queen Boudicca, a fighter and a protector of the weak.

Ceallach himself would not choose such a one. He craved peace most of all. Life with Morrigan would be anything but peaceful.

The conversation moved on to other things. Ceallach paid little attention until Eveleen mentioned that Edward of England had placed a bounty on the heads of the men who had posed as Templar Knights at Bannockburn.

Looking at Ceallach with a directness that told him she knew of his involvement, Morrigan said, “Impostors or not, no one here will even consider turning them in.”

Ceallach asked, “Why is that?”

“For one, they led a force that turned the tide of the battle.”

Maintaining a calm he didn't truly feel, Ceallach said, “If that is so, then I can understand why Edward wants revenge. He blames them for his loss.”

“Well, he must blame someone and he isn't one to examine his own stupidity!”

Her vehemence seemed overly done even for one who fought at Bannockburn. “You don't have a very high opinion of England's king,” Ceallach said.

In a hushed voice she replied, “I watched helplessly while he butchered women and children at Midvale. I would like nothing better than to give him a taste of such savagery.”

Eveleen said, “Why did you never tell me this?”

Again Morrigan looked at Ceallach as if to reassure him that his part in the battle would remain a secret. “I didn't want you to know more than you should if Uncle Angus questioned you. Some things, the fewer people who know about them the better.”

Morrigan's mother looked at her daughter as if seeing her for the first time. “I am proud of you for standing by your principles, Daughter.”

“Thank you.” Obviously uncomfortable, Morrigan changed the subject, addressing the group again. “Bruce has been lenient, nay generous, with many who opposed him but changed their minds to support him.”

Fergus joined in. “Everyone but Clan Comyn. He has been quite harsh in destroying their lands and homes.”

“He had the opportunity to destroy Edward's army at Stirling Castle but took mercy on them instead. Bruce has ever been far more magnanimous than Edward or his father,” Ceallach said.

“Aye,” Morrigan said. “Edward seems ruled by hatred for the Scottish race even more so than by a desire to rule a country where there is no great wealth to be found. Half the country is wild highlands ruled by wilder men.” She gestured about her, a bemused, teasing light in her eyes.

Fergus grinned. “Here on the southern edge of the highlands we're close enough to have some of the niceties of civilization. But far enough away to live life as we see fit.”

Yet Ceallach feared that Dunstruan wasn't nearly far enough away from England for him to remain here. Once he finished serving Bruce as guardian for Lady Radbourne, he would seek a home farther north, perhaps on a remote northern island. Far away from a defeated king seeking revenge on hidden Templar Knights . . .

When the meal was over, Morrigan asked Ceallach to stay behind. “Walk with me,” she said.

He didn't know Morrigan all that well and wondered what she could want with him. She'd made it clear a few minutes ago that she knew, or at least suspected, that he'd been one of the Templars at Bannockburn. Her request to walk with her had sounded more like an order, and he did as she asked out of curiosity.

They walked out of the main hall and into the bailey before Morrigan stopped and turned to face him. “I'm worried about my brother, Keifer. I haven't seen him much since my father died, and I fear he has spent his life solely in the company of women. Keifer needs a man to teach him how to be a warrior.”

Ceallach hadn't anticipated this topic of conversation and was momentarily caught off guard. “He is of an age to be fostered,” Ceallach said, not sure where this discussion was headed.

“Until I can arrange fosterage, I wonder if you would begin his training?”

Yet another person to be responsible for? What had Ceallach said or done that made people expect so much from him? How could he discourage her? “Can't it wait until he's permanently settled?”

“I suppose it could but I want to put some distance between the boy and our mother. I love Mother dearly, despite our sparring at the table. But Keifer needs to be weaned from her influence if he is to become laird of our clan.”

“He's to be laird? I thought you were leading the clan.”

“I am. But contrary to my hedging with my mother, I would welcome the right man as my husband. My husband and I can lead the clan until Keifer comes of age. But by then he must be ready to claim his inheritance.”

Her plan had merit. “You are wise as well as feisty, Morrigan.”

She smiled. “I will take that as a compliment.”

He hesitated. “You hardly know me. Why choose me?”

“I know who and what you are.”

Her words could be taken as a threat but Ceallach didn't think she meant them as one. He ran his fingers through his hair and decided to test her. “Then you certainly don't want such a man training a young, impressionable boy.”

Morrigan crossed her arms. “I don't believe a word of the charges brought against your Order. The king trusts you. That's all I need to know.”

He could almost feel some of the weight lift from his shoulders at her declaration of trust. How could he say no to her request? And it would only be for a short time. “All right. I will accept Keifer as my fosterling until you make a more permanent arrangement.”

“Thank you.” She clapped him on the upper back in the way of comrades and he stiffened, anticipating pain. But the wounds had healed a long time ago. The physical wounds, that is.

“What is it, Ceallach?”

He laughed it off. “Nothing.” How long would he keep his emotions locked up tight? How long could he hide his deep need for just such everyday things as human touch? He met her gaze and his pain must have shown. In her wisdom as a fellow warrior she recognized that she mustn't press further.

“We have both seen sights that left scars,” she said. She watched him for a moment. “I've found that it helps to talk about it.”

“So I've been told.” He said no more.

After a moment, she said, “I can only imagine what you suffered. I will pray that one day you'll find the healing your heart needs, Ceallach. Perhaps the love of the right lady will restore you.”

He nodded, sensing they both knew Morrigan wasn't that woman. “I don't believe I'm capable of such love anymore, Morrigan.”

“I don't believe that, but then who am I to judge?” She smiled ruefully. “Nearly twenty-five years old and as my sister so sweetly put it, an old maid.” When he would have protested she held up her hand. “It's all right. Cassidy may be closer to the truth than I'd like to admit.” She paused. “Do you need some time alone?”

Morrigan was much too observant. He did feel a bit overwhelmed. “Aye, I do.”

“I'll tell the others you have gone to check the sheep.”

“Thank you, Morrigan.” It felt good to be understood. To be known to some extent, by someone other than Robert. Fergus would be blessed if Morrigan welcomed his suit for her hand.

Ceallach had never considered that he might find a woman who would accept the damaged man that he'd become. But Morrigan's perceptive words made him wish, for the first time, that such a thing might be possible.

TWO DAYS LATER CHAOS REIGNED AGAIN as Fergus and Morrigan's family gathered in the bailey. They'd decided they would all ride to Innishewan to inspect the estate and return before dark. Ceallach wondered if the entire castle would be thrown into such upheaval every time they departed and returned.

Everyone else seemed to be taking it all in stride, so maybe women were just natural harbingers of chaos. With a shout that overcame the noise Lady Eveleen came barreling through the others.

“Where is my son?” she demanded. Fergus shrugged and no one else answered. She turned to Ceallach.

“He is tending to some chores for me.”

“Well, he needs to come and mount his horse so we can be off to Innishewan. Where is he?” she repeated.

Ceallach searched for Morrigan amidst the crowd but didn't see her. “I have promised to teach the boy to wield a sword. 'Tis time he had such lessons.”

Lady Eveleen paused, looking uncomfortable. Only the most overprotective of mothers would forbid her son to learn to wield weapons. “An excellent idea. But I'm afraid he won't have time today. Perhaps when we return.”

“Why not allow him to begin today, Lady Macnab? He's of an age to be fostered, and it's past time to start his training. I am willing to take on the task until he can be placed with a foster family.” Keifer was certainly of an age, but was his mother ready to let him go?

Morrigan had quietly made her way to stand by Ceallach.

With a sharp look at her daughter, Lady Eveleen said, “I suppose you've spoken with Morrigan already?”

“Aye.”

“Then it will do me no good to discuss it further. I'm glad you thought of it.”

He suspected she knew very well that it had been Morrigan's idea. “I'm glad you approve, my lady.”

“Yes,” she said with less certainty. “I should like to bid him farewell.”

“His training has already begun. He's learning the first thing a knight must know.”

Anxiously she asked, “And what might that be?”

Ceallach grinned. “The proper way to clean a horse stall.”

He saw her shoulders relax and she smiled before she walked away to find her youngest child. It had been difficult for Ceallach's own mother to let him go so that he might learn the ways of men and warriors. It was no different with Lady Macnab.

Morrigan said, “Well done. She would have fought me—thank you for setting her at ease.”

“Not at all, Morrigan. It will be . . . good for me to have the boy about.”

“You are more than generous, Ceallach,” she said, eyes shining. “My brother will learn much from you indeed.”

“We'll see about that. I suspect the boy will teach me a thing or two too.”

Eveleen returned in a few minutes and seemed resigned to Keifer's staying at Dunstruan. “I've told Keifer I'll expect a full accounting of his behavior when I return,” she said to Ceallach.

“A good idea, madam.”

She mounted her horse and soon the bailey emptied. Wondering what had possessed him, Ceallach went in search of his pupil.

MORRIGAN HAD INVITED ORELIA to go along to Innishewan but Orelia declined. She didn't feel up to spending time with Morrigan and her mother just yet. Instead she wandered down to Dunstruan's kitchen. The cook was only too happy to have help with the bread making.

Being around other people meant she must hold her emotions in check, think of something other than her grief. The repetitive, mindless work of kneading the dough gave Orelia time to think. Time to pray. And prayer helped to ease her heart. She felt her grief lift bit by bit, day by day. Perhaps she should continue to stay busy instead of hiding away in her room.

To Orelia's surprise Ceallach walked into the kitchen with Morrigan's young brother close behind. The knight spoke with the cook, and she gave the boy a slice from one of the cooled loaves along with a piece of cheese. While the boy ate, Ceallach came over and stood next to Orelia.

“Keifer and I are going to round up the sheep. Would you mind helping?”

She kneaded the dough a final time, shaped the loaf for baking, then set it with the others to rise. She wiped her hands on her apron. “You want my help?” Orelia couldn't disguise her surprise.

“Aye. Everyone else is busy with other chores.” He stared at her flour-covered hands. “Never mind. It was a bad idea.” He turned to leave.

“Wait. That was the last loaf.” The thought of leaving the confines of the castle and taking a walk appealed to her. She took her shawl from a peg on the wall. “I would love a walk and a change of scenery.” Even if it meant spending time with the gruff Scot.

“Good. Follow me.”

And with no more than that he walked back out of the kitchen, grabbing the boy by the collar as he went. Orelia hastily took off her apron and hurried after them.

She and Keifer fell in behind the knight, not sure if he even knew they were there. Outside the walls of the castle for the first time since they'd arrived, Orelia was astounded by the beauty of the place. She'd been far too miserable and the day's weather too ugly to notice the countryside when she'd arrived.

The castle was situated, like most fortresses, on an outcropping of rock. They walked north toward a forest of ancient oaks.

Young Keifer remained quiet and Orelia wondered if something bothered him. But as they rounded a curve in the path, the lad exclaimed, “Look at that!” And he took off at a run.

“Don't scatter the sheep!” Ceallach yelled.

Keifer's gait slowed but he was still well ahead of them.

Orelia looked to where Keifer had pointed. To their right, the land fell off gently and in the distance, down a gentle slope, sunlight reflected from a deep blue lake. Surrounded on all sides by forest broken occasionally by grassland, the rich summer green and the azure water made a breath-stealing sight. Orelia slowed to take it in then stopped altogether next to Ceallach, staring.

BOOK: The Mark of Salvation
4.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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