Tamed By Your Desire Part 48

"Fayth-"

"I'm fine. Look." Fayth darted forward and s.n.a.t.c.hed Skelley's sword, yanking it from the scabbard before he could stop her.

"Hey!" Skelley cried.

Fayth wielded it until Alex caught her wrist, plucking the sword from her grasp and returning it to its disgruntled owner. He slid an arm around her shoulders, leading her through the torchlit corridors. "I can't have you there, in danger. You'll be safe here. Ridley cannot ignore the writ of his own king. He'll have abandoned his talks with Carlisle and his threats on me, and even now be journeying to York."

"What about Carlisle?"

"Lochnith isn't far from the border. Though not in the direct line of invasion, should they enter from the west, it's still a possible target for the English if they fanned out. He will return to Lochnith to fortify his tower in case of invasion and possibly even to join the king in Edinburgh, though I'll not lay wagers on it." They stopped at the ladder. "Gealach is safe for now. From Ridley, Carlisle, and the English. We're too far for anyone to concern themselves with. If the English prevail, well, that's quite something else." He grinned and winked at her. "But we're not that far yet, aye?"

Fayth caught his arm. "After you relieve Caroline, will you go to Edinburgh?"

He hesitated, the smile fading. "I will send you word."

There was no more to say, unless she wanted to confess things she was not even sure of herself. Words pressed at her chest, traitorous words that betrayed Jack and her surname, but instead of voicing them she climbed the ladder, following him as he strode across the keep.

She'd never been in his chambers. His rooms were quite different from Ridley's and Carlisle's or even his brother, Lord Annan's, at Annancreag. It looked more like an armory than a place of comfort. Half a dozen breast and back plates lined the walls, some propped up on stands, others on the floor. Two s.h.i.+rts of mail hung from wall pegs. s.h.i.+elds, swords, crossbows, Jedburgh axes, and lances lined the walls. Some hung neat and s.h.i.+ning as if just polished, others lay in piles in the corners.

As he quickly unhooked his doublet to dress, without the aid of a squire or servant, Fayth was reminded of what Alex was. He was no knight or lord, had no code of chivalry binding him, no oaths of fealty to honor. He was a reiver. An outlaw. A killer. He was responding to the call of blood. The Maxwells and the Johnstones had been at feud for a hundred years or more. Both Scots clans, but steeped in hate despite their shared nationality.

She had been fooling herself, trying to convince herself he felt regret for what he'd done to Jack. But Jack had been a Graham and it was unlikely he felt anything but satisfaction for eliminating another enemy. And what of her? Did he care for her? He'd wanted to rut with her when he thought she was a wh.o.r.e. He'd meant to punish her when he learned what she'd done to his people. Perhaps he'd scored another victory over the enemy by ruining one of their women.

He slid the fine linen s.h.i.+rt over his head, and then the padded vest, followed by a gleaming s.h.i.+rt of mail. Fayth was motionless in the doorway. He'd forgotten her, intent on preparing for battle. But then what was he doing, but rus.h.i.+ng to defend Fayth's sister-a Graham? Hadn't he freed her from Carlisle and Ridley? Promised to help her find Mona? Cared for her when she was near death? Fayth's head swam with these contradictions.

When he was fully arrayed, leather breeches, boots and spurs, sword belt strapped on, latch and quarrels hanging from it, he finally faced her, helm dangling from his long fingers.

"I'm leaving you Skelley and a dozen men. Eliot is gone. It must've been him last night, at your door. We've found no sign of him in the tower or below it. You'll be fine until I return."

Fayth said nothing, arms folded hard under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to stop herself from touching him. She wanted to hold him to her, keep him here-keep things from changing again.

He crossed the room, coming to stand before her. "You'll be here, when I return. Together we'll find Mona and Patrick." When she didn't answer he caught her arm. "You will not go after them on your own. Stay here and wait for me."

Though he framed it as an order, she knew he sought confirmation from her. She could not lie to him. There was no way to know how long this war would go on-he could be gone months before there was even fighting. And what if he didn't return? Though her feelings had changed, her situation had not. She must find Mona. Ridley was probably frantic for the Clachan Fala now-Mona's danger had never been greater.

She returned his gaze silently, promising nothing.

He searched her face, his mouth a flat grim line, then stepped around her. She didn't turn, listening to his steps echoing off the floorboards, muted by the fragrant rushes. Her heart ached, hollow and wanting.

Alex swung onto Bear's back, his men mounting their horses and gathering around him. Skelley stood at Bear's head, holding the horse's bridle.

"Do not leave her side. Sleep in the hall outside her door."

"Do ye really think that's necessary?" Skelley asked. "No one will bother with Gealach until this battle is fought."

"I'm not worried about the Grahams. She'll try to run." He gave his friend a hard look. "I expect her to be here when I return."

They streamed out of the gates, taking the steep and treacherous road leading away from the castle at a gallop. When they reached the bottom of the incline, Alex turned in his saddle, to look back at Gealach and saw a figure on the battlements, hair gleaming in the sunlight, yellow cloak billowing out from her shoulders. She raised a hand in farewell. Would she be there, waiting for him, when he returned?

He dug in his spurs and headed for Annancreag.

They rode hard, resting only briefly and sleeping not at all. They traveled the rest of the day, through the night and all the next morning. They reached Maxwell lands noon of the second day.

Alex called a halt at the edge of the forest. His men cl.u.s.tered around him. "It is possible the Johnstones know of Lady Annan's missive and allowed it to pa.s.s. They could be lying in wait to ambush us."

His men knew the wood almost as well as he did and needed no more than his warning to understand what must be done. They split into three groups, one of the groups, with Alex at their head, traveled openly on the main track through the forest.

Alex had grown up in this forest. It was part of the extensive holdings that Red Rowan pa.s.sed to Robert. The local people believed fairies and elves inhabited the wood. Alex had never seen the little folk and he and his brothers had combed every inch of the forest. They'd done nothing to dissuade the tales, it kept many of their enemies away, as the only way to conduct a protracted siege of Annancreag was to camp near the forest. Eventually one must venture into the wood to forage. The only enemies bold enough to attempt taking Annancreag in spite of the fantastic creatures were the Grahams and the Johnstones. Hate, it seemed, overrode fear. Annancreag had never fallen to a Johnstone, but, like the Grahams, they had breached its defenses on occasion.

This would not be one of those occasions. The familiar fury that had once been such an integral part of Alex's person returned full force. It had deserted him in the past weeks, leaving him vulnerable to Fayth and her charms. It bolstered him now, enabled him to put her sweet face from his mind. That the craven Johnstones dared to attack his sister-in-law, the good and pious Caroline, while her husband was away serving the king set Alex's blood to boiling. He would teach them not to trouble Maxwell womenfolk.

He whistled a tune as they trotted down the road, to be certain the Johnstones didn't miss his coming. His latch rested casually across his thighs, loaded. Bear's ears p.r.i.c.ked and swiveled. They had traveled a mile when Alex knew the ambush was near. The birds and squirrels fell silent. The only sounds in the wood were the creak of saddle leather, the snort of horses, the jangle of bridles, the crunch of leaves and twigs under hooves, and Alex's whistling.

A bush shuddered to Alex's right. He swung his latch around as shrieking battle cries filled the air and Johnstones dropped from the branches onto the track. Alex leaped from Bear's back and sent a bolt into one's chest. He pulled his sword from the scabbard secured to the saddle and engaged the nearest Johnstone.

The fight was over as quickly as it had begun. Alex's men exploded from the trees behind the Johnstones, swords drawn. The Johnstones not already bristling with arrows dropped their weapons, surrendering. Alex didn't have time to take prisoners. He stripped them of their armor and weapons, leaving them their undergarments, and tied them to trees.

They continued their approach to Annancreag. As the trees began to thin near the forest's edge, Alex signaled his men to stop. He crept forward alone and climbed a stout oak to get a view of the castle.

Situated on an upper branch, Alex surveyed the scene before him. Annancreag sat on a natural rise, craggy on one side, gentle slope on the other. There were no secret ways in or out as there were in many border towers such as Gealach. Maxwells manned the battlements but at the moment there was no fighting. Alex climbed higher, until he swayed gently in the top branches. Johnstones cl.u.s.tered around the edge of the forest. A group was currently tunneling beneath the wall and another cutting the branches away from a felled tree. Alex surveyed the area to the south, noting the loch was lightly guarded.

He climbed down and gathered his men about him. "They outnumber us and appear to be alert. Our best chance is surprise. They'll not expect to be attacked at night. We'll come at them from all sides, remaining near the line of trees to mask our number, as well as provide cover." He pointed to three men. "I must let Lady Annan know we've arrived and secure her aid in this. I will slip into the keep by way of the loch." He waved his hand at the rest of his men. "The rest of you, conceal yourselves until I give the signal. Do not fall asleep. We'll attack when the moon is full and the fog conceals our movements."

They melted into the trees. Alex led the three men south. They walked for an hour, then headed east, catching the river before it emptied into the firth. They followed the river until it branched off, following an estuary that emptied into the loch that lapped the castle wall on the southeast side. Alex couldn't get any closer as Johnstones guarded the loch. However, they were guarding against escaping Maxwells, not someone trying to enter.

Below the surface of the loch, water flowed through a grate-covered channel in the wall, emptying into a stone pool. It would not be a pleasant swim. Not only was the water frigid, but a sc.u.mmy, bubbly film lapped the sh.o.r.e and the castle walls from the waste that had once been liberally dumped into the waters-a practice Caroline had put a stop to.

Alex shrugged out of his armor and jack, stripping himself down to s.h.i.+rt and breeks. "Make sure I get in, aye? Then join the others."

He waded into the foul-smelling water. The rocky bottom quickly gave way to deep waters and Alex sunk beneath the surface. He glided through the water, swimming against the current, until he was near enough that the guards would see him, even though they weren't watching the water. He dove below the surface, swimming along the bottom until he reached the grating. The bars of the grating were not wide enough for a man's body to pa.s.s through, but the Annan Maxwells had been in this situation many times before and had sawed off two bars, allowing a large man to squeeze through.

Alex pulled himself through the dark channel cut in the thick curtain wall, his lungs straining. He restrained the urge to burst forth once he was through. He slowly broke the surface. The Maxwell standing beside the wall started at the sight of him and raised his latch.

Alex held up a hand. "It's me-Alexander Maxwell."

The color drained from the young man's face and he quickly dropped his weapon. "Thank the Lord! Red Alex has come!"

He helped Alex out of the water and led him into the keep. The great hall was filled with villagers that sought refuge from the attack. A golden head rose above them all, floating through her people like an angel of mercy. Caroline, Fayth's sister and Alex's sister-in-law. She saw him standing in the doorway and gave a quick order to her maid, Celia, before joining him.

"You came," she said. Her expression was serene, as always, but he saw the relief in her eyes, the lines of strain in her face. The braid that was customarily wound about her head hung down her back in a thick rope, as if she'd not taken the time to groom herself properly, and likely she had not.

"Aye, have you sent word to Rob?"

She nodded as Celia reappeared with a bath linen. Celia's nose wrinkled in disgust and she backed away. Alex knew he stank, though Caroline gave no indication she smelled aught foul. She took the linen from Celia and draped it around Alex's shoulders. Caroline's Graham priest, Father Jasper, separated from the villagers. He was long and thin as a stick, his face gaunt, but kind.

"You have brought men?" the priest asked.

"Aye, we'll send the Johnstones scattering with their tails between their legs."

Caroline gestured for him to follow her. "When?"