Song of the Highlands: The Cambels (The Medieval Highlanders) (20 page)

It took mere moments to retrace her steps of
the night before and soon she was standing in the walk between the
two buildings, gazing out at the cobblestoned area in front of her.
A clansman stood guard halfway between the doors and the opening
into the courtyard, she was surprised to note. The fact that Robert
had clearly ordered him there meant he, too, had doubts that what
she’d experienced had been merely a dream, and it went a long way
toward easing some of the dread she was yet feeling that now
Robert, as well, believed her going mad and truly would begin to
regret his marriage to her.

Tho’, truth be told, tho’ some still
remained, the passion she and her husband had shared this night
past went far in diminishing that dread, as well as diminishing the
contempt she’d felt for herself and for the mad visions she’d had
of
Ankou
. Just as he’d known it would. A flutter of love
brushed o’er her heart, and in spite of all that had happened in
the past days, she smiled.

The lee was a peaceful, common-looking space,
and at this early hour of the morn, still mostly shaded. Tho’ the
west wall was receiving some light from the sun, the east wall was
in shadow.
She’d seen this area, of course, many
times these past moons; she’d just ne’er taken much note of it
until now.

When the guard greeted her with a nod of his
head, she replied in kind and took a step off the walk onto the
cobblestones. Keeping her movements casual, she began to closely
study every inch of the area, with particular regard to the section
where she believed she was at the time she first saw the creature.
All looked in the common, expected way. There was no blood on the
stones, and as yet, no sign of her brooch. Which was odd. Mayhap,
she did not lose it here? Mayhap, she’d only dreamt she’d fought
her attacker with the brooch. If he was naught more than illusion,
why not the stabbing of him as well?
Hmm.
Mayhap, instead,
it came away from her cloak in her mad dash toward the light this
night past?

She headed with more purpose toward the
courtyard, intent on searching the ground where she’d stood waiting
for Robert’s return, but continuing to scan the ground in between
there and here as well. ‘Twas just past the corner of the keep that
she found the brooch, tilted on its edge and cradled against a tuft
of weeds that were growing against the front wall.

Her pulse raced. With a shaking hand, she
retrieved the jewelry, all the time praying that she’d find
proof—
Ankou
’s blood—on the sharp pin of it. She looked
closely, turning it o’er in her hand, first this way, then that,
but ‘twas as clean as when she’d put it on this night past. The
crushing weight of her disappointment made her collapse against the
wall of the keep for a time. She’d lost it in her flight from a
creature that was not there. A creature formed only in her mind.
Why?
Why would her mind play such horrid tricks on her? And
when she was in such high spirits, planning a wedding, believing
she was about to discover her maid’s true love? It made no sense.
Why Lord? Why do you punish me so?

She stood quiet and still, waiting, waiting,
waiting, yet no answer came. Or…mayhap it did, for a thought
struck: Could it be that ‘twas not a punishment but a trial He gave
her? If so, then she must be up to the challenge. For Robert and
her babe—and the promise of more to come—were worth all the fight
she had in her to o’ercome these mad visions. And she would. She
must.

Even with her new resolve, it took some time
more for Morgana to gather the strength to stand tall again, but at
last she did, and, her movements purposeful, she drew the brooch
through the cloth of her woolen cloak. There was still the matter
of the necklace with which to deal. Would that prove fruitless as
well? She prayed not. If fortune was with her, then she would find
it in the exact place she’d seen it last, and know that ‘twas not
yet another illusion come to haunt her waking hours, come to prove
her frailty of mind. As well, ‘twas possible, if she did find the
thing, the having of it would make known to her why it brought on
such dreadful feelings, dreadful visions. Wouldn’t that aid her in
her struggle to win against it?

And, if she did not find the necklace?
Well…the truth was, she knew not what she’d do then.

* * *

Even with all Morgana’s worry, ‘twas not
until after she’d broken her fast that she was able to take the
trip back to the burn, but ‘twas with Modron and a guard along as
well. She knew without attempting such, that the gatekeeper would
give argument and no doubt inform her husband of her plans, were
she to endeavor the journey outside the fortress walls without an
escort, for all had heard of her childing state and of her recent
swoon at the burn. No one knew (or at least she prayed ‘twas so) of
her terrible waking dream of this night past, nor of her nocturnal
wanderings.

As they journeyed, she made no mention to
Modron of her knowledge that, deep in the night, her maid had gone
to meet her lover, believing it best to leave it in the past, and,
if ‘twas not for the dire reason for the expedition they were now
set upon, Morgana would have found some joy in the warm, sunny day,
in the vivid pinks and yellows and purples and greens on the glen,
and in the butterflies that danced upon air there.

After securing their mounts to trees, they
went down near the water’s edge. As Robert had done the day prior,
the guard descended the incline in the terrain ahead of the women
and then gave purchase with his arm and shoulder as they took the
few awkward steps down themselves. ‘Twould be difficult to search
for the necklace without the other two seeing her doing so, but
Morgana felt confident that she was capable of the small
deceit.

While the guard unfolded the blanket and
laid it out for them to sit upon, and while Modron walked closer to
the water’s edge to watch the antics of the bright blue dragonflies
that hovered and sped about above the moss-covered bolder a bit
further upstream, Morgana strolled over to the place she’d spied
the necklace two days past.

The fallen branch was still there.

Her heart raced with joy.
I am not
utterly mad!
Sending a furtive glance in the direction of her
two companions and finding them still occupied with their own
endeavors, she scanned the ground around the fallen branch with
added fervor. In only moments, however, her initial eagerness
stumbled, then fell like stone, leaving a weighted, twisting fear
in the pit of her stomach.

Still, she was not ready to admit defeat.
With another brief look to the other two beforehand, she crouched
down and began to run her hand through the debris and vegetation on
the ground.

With a start, she heard the guard boom, “Did
you drop something, m’lady?”

Morgana’s heart leapt into her throat as she
jerked her head up to look in his direction. She gave him a
vigorous nod as she rose to her feet, pretending to place one of
her rings back on her finger and lifting it up for him to see at
the same time she did so.

I
am.
I am going mad.

V
IKA PUSHED THE
stableman’s hands away when he tried to help her from her cart,
then she promptly mounted the wooden steps he’d placed next to it,
taking them down to the ground. Her cousin and Robert would learn
soon enough about the babe in her belly without her sending the
entire court into a dither of excited chatter beforehand. The
guards who’d traveled with her would be returning after a bit of
rest and refreshment, so she had little worry that they would stay
long enough to learn of her childing state before their departure
and carry the tale back with them.

She’d not received her cousin’s missive
until a few sennights past when it had finally made it to the small
manor house to which she’d fled once she’d discovered that she was
breeding. The dwelling and its bit of land and rents had been part
of her dowry upon her marriage to the wretched man her father had
forced her to wed, and bequeathed back to her as part of her
widow’s terce upon his death. It had been the only place she could
think of where she could abide for a time while she made her plans
for the babe. The letter had come at a very opportune time for her,
however, for she was growing too thick in the middle now to
continue hiding her condition from her servants for very much
longer—and ‘twould not be long then until one of them revealed it
to her father. A thing Vika was determined to keep from him as long
as possible—mayhap forever, if she could somehow contrive to do so.
Her father had renounced all further dealings with Morgana and
Robert after the embarrassment they’d caused him, so there was
little worry that he would e’er hear news of her from this
clan.

And, as soon as this one was whelped,
‘twould be sent to Grímr, where the other one he’d planted in her
was biding as well. The babe would be better off without her, just
as was Halla, the young one she’d borne nearly three summers
past.

She hadn’t taken more than three steps
toward the entrance to the keep when she saw Robert emerge and trot
down the stone steps. Clearly, he was deep in thought about
something, for his eyes scanned the courtyard, glancing off of her,
as they moved past her toward the north side of the fortress. In
the next second, however, his head whipped around and his eyes lit
upon her with a friendly warmth in their depths. He jogged over to
her.

“Vika!” he said, taking both her hands in
his in greeting. “Morgana will be pleased to learn that you’ve
arrived.” He turned his head and dropped one of her hands in order
to motion to one of his men to announce her arrival to Morgana.
“Come. There’s fresh-made ale in the great hall.” He took hold of
her elbow and pulled her in that direction.

Vika shook her head and smiled. Still the
same old Robert. Always ordering, ne’er asking. It had been rather
vexing to her while they were lovers, but now that they were
cousins—and friends, she supposed—‘twas only a mild irritant. She’d
only e’er been able to command him when they played their erotic
games. But, how e’er did poor Morgana stand it, otherwise? Truly,
she must be a saint.

When they walked through the doorway to the
hall, a servant tried to take her cloak from her shoulders, but she
resisted, saying, “Nay, I’m just a bit chilled. I’ll keep this on a
while longer.”

Robert looked at her as if she’d gone mad,
but, thankfully, did not comment. Instead, he made arrangements for
the ale and a bit of a light repast to be placed before her at
table.

Vika was just raising the cup to her lips
when Morgana swept through the entrance and hurried over to where
they were seated. She didn’t give Vika a chance to rise before she
placed a kiss on her cheek and settled down beside her.

Robert reached over and took hold of
Morgana’s hand. This gesture, alone, was enough to shock Vika, but
when she also saw his expression soften and a tender light spark
his eyes as he regarded his wife, the greeting to her cousin
clogged in her throat and all she could do was blink at him.

She recognized that look all too well. ‘Twas
the exact look she’d received from Grímr much too oft during their
time together on
Leòdhas
. ‘Twas
lovelonging
! A
remembered feeling of smothering dread hit her like a hot gust of
wind, nearly knocking her from her seat, and she leaned against the
table for support.

‘Twas only when she felt Morgana’s hand on
her arm that she realized her cousin had been trying to give her
some news. Vika turned her stunned gaze to Morgana and almost lost
the battle to stay upright all over again when she at last
understood the tidings.
Morgana was breeding as well!

Except this child, ‘twas quite clear from
the effusive hand movements and joyous grins on both her companions
visages, was very much wanted. As was the common way. Aye, ‘twas
only she, herself, that was the bad one for not feeling elation
o’er this same fruitfulness within herself.

Vika forced a smile to her lips and gave
Morgana another hug. Their bellies came close to touching, but Vika
managed to back away just in time. She would not reveal the fact of
her own childing now that she knew her cousin was so pleased to be
in the same condition. She’d hoped for a bit of solace, mayhap,
even understanding, but knew now she’d not find it here. ‘Twas
clear ‘twould be best to depart in no more than a day or two
hence—to where, she would simply have to use this time here to
consider—and not return until well after the birth of this babe she
carried.

* * *

‘Twas as Robert was taking the last swallow
of his ale a few minutes later, having dispatched Vika to her
newly-prepared bedchamber where she would rest until the next morn,
as she’d declined taking supper with them due to fatigue from her
journey, that his eyes once again settled on his wife.

‘Tho she sat quietly beside him, with a
smile still upon her lips, he could also see that she’d grown pale,
and her countenance was drawn.

“The babe is making your stomach roil again.
Go up to our chamber and rest.”

She shook her head and indicated that she
had duties to attend.

He stood up, lifted her in his arms, touched
his lips to hers—because he could not fight the urge to do so—and
strode out of the great hall, not stopping until he had her out of
her gown and lying on her back on the bed in only her chemise.

“Rest. My son needs it, and so do you.”

The fact that she gave no protest, only
nodded her head, told him he was right in giving her this
command.

Again, he bent down and touched his lips to
hers, this time cupping her soft cheek in his palm as well. She
lifted her hands and pressed them to the back of his head,
deepening the kiss, and he almost relented, almost accepted what
she offered, but worry for her and his son gave him the strength to
pull away.