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Authors: Amanda Forester

Tags: #Medieval

Highlander's Sword (10 page)

BOOK: Highlander's Sword
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Ten

AILA WAS STARTLED BY THE SOUND OF SOMEONE TRYING to open her door, the bolt clanking. Aila cowered on the floor, frozen in place. How long she had been there? Had it been minutes or hours? She wanted to raise some alarm but feared leaving the safety of her room. Had the strange man gone back down to the lower bailey, or had he come into her tower? Was he even now standing outside her door? Had he killed Fergus and was waiting for her to answer the door, so he could do the same to her?
   "Ye there, m'lady?" came the familiar sound of the maid.
   "Och, aye," breathed Aila, much relieved; yet as she stood, she found she still wore the shirt and breeches. That would be difficult to explain, so she stripped off her clothing, stuffing it in her trunk, and slipped on her chemise. Aila opened the door to Maggie and Senga.
   "Are ye… available, m'lady?" asked Maggie in a whisper.
   "Aye," returned Aila, a bit confused.
"Is the MacLaren still sleeping?"
   Now Aila understood. They naturally thought her husband would have eventually come for her. "Nay, he is no' here."
   "Verra good," said Maggie, bustling into the room. "We've come for the sheets."
   Sheets? Was it washing day already? Aila had too many other concerns to figure it out. Maggie and Senga stripped back the blanket on the bed and stopped, looking down at the sheets.
   "Oh," said Senga.
   "Oh my," said Maggie.
   What could be the matter? Aila stood beside them and looked down at the plain white sheets. She could see nothing amiss. What was wrong here?
   "Um, m'lady," stammered Maggie, blushing pink, "did ye sleep elsewhere last night?"
   "On the bench," Aila admitted, wondering why they would ask that.
   "The
bench
?" Maggie sounded incredulous.
   "Aye."
   Both maids stared at her then walked over to the window and to examine the bench. This was getting odd.
   "Ye and MacLaren on the bench?" asked Senga.
   "MacLaren was no' here last night."
   "Oh!" Maggie said brightly with a big smile. She paused, and her smiled faded into a frown. "Oh."
   Grim-faced, Maggie and Senga helped Aila dress in her normal attire, working efficiently and avoiding her eye. Senga lapsed into silence, but Maggie nervously chattered about nothing in particular. Occasionally, she would give her mistress a look of sympathy. Aila was lost in her own thoughts until Maggie stumbled upon something that caught her attention.
   "What did ye say?" asked Aila, unsure of what she had heard.
   "I said the stable master ha' gone and fell and broke his head."
   "Fell?"
   "Aye, they found him in the stables. I probably ought no' tell ye, but my brother is a stable lad, and he says po' auld Fergus must ha' been reaching for a bridle, and that's why he got up on the chair."
   "Chair?" asked Aila weakly. There had been no chair near the body.
   "Aye. The chair was crushed beside him. Must ha' broke, and that's what caused the fall. Ye feeling all right, m'lady? Ye look right pale. I shoud'na have told ye. These things are no' for lady's ears." Maggie brushed Aila's hair and affixed the wimple. "Father Thomas came to give the last rites, 'cause he is breathing verra poorly."
   "The stable master still lives?"
   "Aye, but they canna wake him, and I warrant the good Lord will be calling him home soon. There now, ye look right bonnie." Everyone in the room knew that to be a lie. Senga and Maggie gave their curtsies and headed toward the door. Maggie glanced back, giving Aila one last look of pity before she left.
   Pity. In all her years at the castle, Aila may have lived a restricted life, but never before had she been the object of pity. She picked up the copper mirror and gazed at her reflection. Back in her plain kirtle and white wimple, she looked more familiar but rather bedraggled. Her eyes were red and swollen with dark circles underneath. Her cheeks were scraped and scratched. She was married to a man who despised her. She put down the mirror, the copper heavy in her hand. She had seen enough.
   Aila put her hand to the side of her face, as if by holding her head still, her thoughts would likewise stop spinning. Over and over, the image of the crumpled stable master flashed before her eyes. Could it have been an accident? She shook her head. There had been no chair; a metal rod, yes, but no chair. But what could it all mean? Aila sucked in a gasp of air, shocked by a sudden realization. Someone had altered the scene to make it look like an accident. It could mean only one thing. Somewhere in the castle was a killer.
   She alone knew the truth. No… she was not alone, one other person knew—the murderer. But who could it be? Why would anyone do such a thing? More importantly, had he seen her? Was he waiting even now for her to emerge from the security of her tower?
   Her mother was right. Marriage was a hell on earth. Why had she consented to this nightmare? Feeling she had nothing left to lose, Aila resigned herself to endure her mother's triumph and slunk down to her mother's chambers.
   From her regal, fur-covered chair, Lady Graham regarded her daughter with cold resentment. With a flash of her eyes, Lady Graham dismissed the servants, and they fled for the door. Aila's shoulders drooped further, and she focused on the black tips of her shoes.
   "Come here, child." Her mother's voice was uncharacteristically soft, and she reached out to Aila with concern. Aila ran to her and buried herself in her mother's arms, beginning to cry once again. Holding on tight, Aila was enveloped in soft fur and warm velvet. She inhaled the soft scent of rose petals, and it brought back memories of long ago being cuddled by her mother. It was a comfort she had not known for a long time, and it soothed her soul.
   "What did he do to ye, child?" Lady Graham finally asked, her voice soft and worried.
   "Nothing," Aila said, her voice choked. She wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to gain control of herself.
   "Ye can tell me, child. What did that bastard MacLaren do to make ye cry?"
   "He did nothing, Mother. He ne'er came for me."
   "What do ye mean, Aila? How did he hurt ye?"
   "He dinna hurt me. I dinna see him at all. I wasna invited to the feast, and he ne'er came for me last night. But in the stables—"
   "What?!" Lady Graham stood up so fast, she tossed Aila onto the floor, landing her flat on her bottom. "He dinna come for ye? He rejected ye on yer wedding night? How dare he treat me this way! I will no' be ignored!" Lady Graham tried to take a step, but the pain in her feet caused her to sit back down with a grimace. "Aila! What in heaven's name are ye doing on the floor? Get up and go fix yer face. Ye look a mess."
   Aila picked herself off the floor, brushing the rushes from her skirt, and washed her face in the basin as commanded.
   "Now sit down, shoulders back. We dinna wish the servants' tongues to rattle." The servants were ushered back into the room to present the food and then commanded to leave once again.
   "Now we must consider what to do," said Lady Graham as she accepted a bite of food.
   "But, Mother, there's naught I can do. I'm married now." Aila wanted to tell her mother about what had happened in the stables but feared this might only provoke a new bout of anger. Her mother would be furious if she knew Aila had been out riding. Lady Graham flashed Aila a wicked smile, and all thoughts of confiding in her mother vanished.
   "Married, yes, but consummated, no. Ye've got options, my dear, until he beds ye."
   "Oh?" Aila's eyes widened.
   "I ken it be time ye joined the convent."
   "But the wedding…" Aila was still not sure she understood.
   "Since that fool of a husband ignored ye last night, the abbot can have the marriage annulled." Realization struck Aila. Her mother was right; the abbot would be certain to champion her request for an annulment, particularly since the convent and his abbey were built on her dower lands. The Church would not be likely to turn away her inheritance. Besides, Sister Enid had written to encourage her to avoid marriage and take her vows. She valued the nun's opinion, so it must have been a been a mistake to agree to the marriage.
   Her mother stopped eating for a moment and gave her daughter a penetrating glance. "Ye dinna want to stay married to such a man, do ye?"
   Aila sighed. She had wanted to be married to him, very much at one point. But now… she thought of his rejection. "No, Mother," said Aila sadly, "I dinna want him for my husband."
   "Good. 'Tis all settled. Ye'll go to the convent today and ask for sanctuary and an annulment."
   "But, Mother, how will I get there? 'Tis not the day I usually visit the sisters, and I doubt they will let me go on my own." Aila went with an armed escort to visit the convent once a week, but those trips were arranged in advance. To leave the gates, she would need the permission of her father, or perhaps now, her husband, and she had no idea if they would grant such a request. Too bad she had not thought of this earlier. She had ridden past St. Margaret's this morning. She could sneak out the secret passage, but the stable would be too crowded during the day to leave unnoticed.
   "I could leave at night," Aila started to say.
   "Nay, child. Ye must leave today, as soon as possible, before that ugly brute of yers gets his hands on ye."
   Aila was about to respond that MacLaren was not at all ugly, but wisely swallowed the comment and said, "But how can I leave the castle?"
   Lady Graham smiled at her daughter. "Watch and learn." She ushered the maids back into the room. Maggie and Senga gathered the food tray and spread out a clean tablecloth.
   "Maggie," said Lady Graham slowly, causing the maid to jump and cringe.
   "Aye, m'lady?"
   "How is that beau of yours?" Lady Graham asked, her tone suspiciously sweet. "Is he no' one o' our soldiers who guards the gate?"
   "Aye, m'lady," replied Maggie, nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
   "Does he have duty today?"
   "Aye. He begins his shift after Matins," replied Maggie, confusion clear on her face as she glanced from Lady Graham to Aila.
   "And where is yer young suitor now?"
   Maggie's eyes grew large. "I dinna ken."
   "How verra odd, for I swore I heard him talking wi' ye outside my door no' too long ago."
   All the color drained from the maid's face. "Oh, m-m'lady, I be so s-sorry."
   "Dinna worrit yerself," said Lady Graham, her voice smooth. "I ken young love. Why are ye no' married?"
   "Well… I…"
   "'Tis yer lack of dowry, no? Well, I'd like to help ye. Bring me the chest." Aila brought her mother the small chest of cedar and polished brass and opened the lock with a small key that hung around her mother's neck.
   "Here are ten coins, my dear," said Lady Graham. "Will that no' provide for yer dowry?"
   Maggie gasped. To her, it was a considerable fortune. "Thank ye, m'lady. I dinna ken what to say."
   "'Tis how I reward my faithful servants who help us in our time of need. Ye do wish to help us, aye, Maggie?" Maggie nodded her head vigorously, eyeing the stack of coins on the table.
   "That's a good lass. All I need from ye and yer beau is a soldier's tunic and guaranteed safe passage from the castle."
   "Nay, m'lady, I coud'na. My Brody will no' accept a bribe."
   "I'm no' bribing Brody. I'm dowering ye, and I'm ashamed at ye for suggesting different," said Lady Graham, her voice once again harsh. "I only supposed ye'd wish to help Lady Aila to reach the safety o' the convent afore her husband returns for her. He surely has no love for her. I shudder to think o' what he may do to her once he gets her back to that pile of rocks he calls his home. I suppose it be nothing to ye if poor Aila is beaten, thrown in the dungeon, or worse."
   Maggie was not the only one in the room to look horrified. "Nay, m'lady." Maggie gulped. "Do ye ken he will treat her badly?"
   "I've heard his cruelty has no end. His public rejec tion o' her will be only the beginning o' his shameful treatment o' her. 'Tis yer choice, Maggie. Aila's life is in yer hands. I wish to protect my daughter, and I'm willing to reward all who do."
   Senga spoke up. "I ken the way to the convent. I can lead her there safely."
   "Thank ye, Senga. I need two tunics. What do ye say, Maggie?"
   "Aye, I'll help ye," said a wide-eyed Maggie, looking at Aila.

Events were moving much too fast. Dressed in a soldier's tunic and trews, her hair somehow crammed into a cap. Aila walked down to the lower bailey with Senga—also dressed as a soldier—by her side. Her mother's description of her peril had convinced not only Maggie but Aila of the necessity of this plan. Above all, she wanted to seek guidance from Sister Enid. Since her friend had written to encourage her to avoid marriage and take her vows, Aila guessed Sister Enid would be in full support of this plan.

BOOK: Highlander's Sword
4.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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