Surrender to the Highlander(37)

Niels tore his gaze from Edith’s pale, sleeping face in the moonlight and glanced toward the keep to see that the gate was indeed rising. Now that the storm had finally ended, the night sky was as clear as could be with a large full moon and countless stars making visibility pretty good now that they were out from under the cover of the trees.

Sighing, Niels urged his horse forward to cross the open area between the castle and the forest that surrounded it. He set the pace at a slow walk to avoid jolting Edith.

Niels had sent Geordie ahead to warn the men on the wall that they were returning and to get them to open the gate. While he did that, Niels and Alick had waited at the base of the hill, just outside the trees. He’d wanted to avoid getting too close and risking Edith being woken up by the shouting back and forth. She’d woken up several times on the return journey, and each time had cried herself back to sleep. The only reason he knew that was because, hidden under the tartan he’d wrapped around them both, she’d soaked his shirt with warm tears each and every time she’d woken.

Niels knew all Edith’s tears weren’t solely for Brodie and Victoria. Edith was finally mourning the passing of her entire family. She’d let a little out when Cawley had died, but that had merely been a drop in the bucket of the sorrow she must feel. He couldn’t even imagine how he’d feel were he to lose all of his brothers as well as his sister in a few short weeks. But he did know it would be devastating. Niels wanted to spare her from that as much as possible for now. He knew that he was just delaying the inevitable. Edith needed to let her pain out and cry, and if she didn’t do it now, she would just do it later. But between getting little more than an hour’s nap last night after her poisoning, and their very long, very useless journey today, Niels was too exhausted to be able to offer her the comfort he felt she would need. He was hoping he could get her inside and to bed without waking her. Once he’d had a nap, even a short one, he could hold and comfort her as she spent her tears.

Geordie was dismounted and waiting at the gate with Tormod, Rory and several soldiers as Niels reached it. When Geordie moved out into Niels’s path, he stopped his horse and raised an eyebrow in question.

Whether he could see that or not, Geordie explained. “The men are waiting to shield her from arrows,” Geordie said solemnly as the group of men rushed forward with various items Niels didn’t understand until they put them together next to his horse. A barrel, a crate and a bucket, one next to the other, made up a set of makeshift stairs for him to dismount without jolting Edith.

“Thank ye,” Niels almost whispered the words. Bracing his left foot on the barrel, he lifted and shifted his right leg over his mount’s head and stood up with Edith in his arms. He then walked down the crate and bucket as if they were stairs to reach the ground.

As Alick dismounted and their horses were led away, Tormod said, “This way,” and stepped aside so that Niels got his first look at what they’d arranged. The sight made him stop in surprise.

With the raging storm slowing them at first, the return journey had taken longer than the journey out had. It was late now, closer to dawn than the dusk that had just past. Everyone but the men on the wall should have been inside sleeping, and they probably had been before Geordie’s arrival. But now it looked like every last man and woman at Drummond, from the soldiers down to the kitchen maids, were lined up two by two from the gate to the keep doors, each of them holding a shield high in the air so that they formed a tunnel Niels could safely carry Edith through without the fear of arrows from overhead.

Swallowing, Niels turned to Geordie and murmured, “Thank ye.”

“It was no’ me idea,” he said with a crooked smile. “The word that we found Laird Brodie dead and Lady Edith was returning spread while we waited fer ye to cross from the woods to the gate and the men just started lining up with the shields. Before I knew it servants were pouring out o’ the castle to help protect their lady. Her people think a lot o’ yer wife.”

Niels stared at him blankly for a minute, and then simply nodded and started into the tunnel Edith’s people had made to offer her safe passage. But he was touched beyond words at this show of caring and concern for his wife. To him it indicated that they cared for her as much as she cared for them. He was quite positive they would not have done this for her brother.

Niels walked quickly, but kept his head up and tried to make eye contact with every person he passed to let them know that their actions were noted and appreciated. Many nodded as if understanding, others simply straightened a bit with pride, but some did not notice because their sorrowful eyes were on their sleeping lady.

Despite the tunnel of shields, Niels was relieved to get Edith inside the keep. After the hours spent cold and damp, the heat in the great hall was welcome.

“I sent Moibeal up to build a fire in m’lady’s room,” Tormod announced as they followed him inside.

“Thank ye. Grab a cask o’ ale and some goblets and come up,” he added as he headed for the stairs.

“Who?” Geordie asked uncertainly.

“All o’ ye,” Niels said grimly. He wanted Tormod and his brothers all there. He needed to talk to them, but was unwilling to leave Edith alone. They’d have to talk quietly around the table by the fire . . . which only had two chairs he recalled, and as he started up the stairs, Niels added, “Ye may want to grab some chairs from the other rooms. There are only two.”

“Are ye sure we’ll all fit?” Rory asked, and something about the amusement in his voice made Niels pause and half turn to look back. His eyes widened incredulously when he saw that every last man and woman who had lined up to ensure Edith’s safe passage had followed them inside and across the great hall, and were either on the stairs behind him, or waiting patiently for their turn to follow them up the stairs. It seemed his “all o’ ye” had been heard and taken literally when he’d meant only his brothers and Tormod. Niels almost explained that he hadn’t really meant everyone in the castle, but then changed his mind and simply said, “We’ll talk down here.”

As soon as everyone started backtracking down the stairs, Niels glanced to Alick and asked, “Would ye fetch some furs from the bed to lay Edith on by the fire?”

“O’ course.” Alick slipped past him and hurried upstairs as Niels followed everyone else back down. It was slow enough going with so many before him that Alick was back just as he stepped off the stairs and started toward the fire. It looked like his brother had grabbed every last fur off the bed, and a few from another room, he noted with a weary smile as the younger man ran ahead to lay out and stack the furs to make a comfy bed. He then laid the last couple over Edith once Niels had set her gently down on the others.

The moment they stepped back, Laddie appeared and curled up in front of his mistress. Edith stirred then, and Niels held his breath, afraid she’d wake up, but she merely curled her arm around the dog and buried her face in his fur.

“Laddie and me’ll keep her safe, m’laird,” Ronson said solemnly beside him.

Niels glanced down into his serious little face and nodded. “Thank ye, lad.”

Ronson nodded in response and then sat down on the edge of the furs to stare at his lady with eyes too old for his years.

Sighing, Niels turned and headed to where the men were silently setting up the trestle tables again. They were disassembled each night to make room for sleeping, and then reassembled every morning, but morning was coming early this day. Or perhaps night had been extended, Niels thought, since he planned to retire as soon as he’d finished talking to their people.

“So ye found Brodie?” Tormod said finally, once Niels was seated with ale in hand.

“Aye,” he said grimly. “At the family’s hunting lodge. Brodie, his wife and the five remaining men in his escort were all there and dead. And their horses were all in the stables still and also dead.”

“Starved to death,” Geordie put in.

“Could ye tell how Brodie and the others died?” Rory asked. “Were there wounds or—?”

“I think it was poison,” Niels interrupted. “They were all at table with bowls o’ what looked like dried-up stew in front o’ them and half-drunk goblets o’ ale. The ale cask had a hint o’ that smell from the poisoned mead, so I’m guessing they were poisoned, but that this time enough was put in that it was fast-acting. Unlike Laird Drummond and his sons, they did no’ even finish their meals or get up from their seats ere they died. And they had been dead quite a while, long enough they were unrecognizable.”

“The maid,” Tormod muttered.

Niels glanced to the warrior uncertainly. “Moibeal?”

“Nay, Lady Victoria’s maid, Nessa. Ye said there was one woman and six men, but Lady Victoria took her young maid and left Effie here. There should have been two women and six men.”

“Oh, aye,” Niels said with a frown. “I recall Edith mentioning that, or mayhap it was you, but I only saw the one woman.” He turned to Geordie in question, but his brother shook his head.

“I did no’ see another woman either. Just the one,” he said quietly.