Текст книги "Highland Daydreams"

Автор книги: April Holthaus

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 11 страниц)

Chapter 10

The night passed quickly. When morning was upon them, Bram crept out of the room to allow Lara to continue resting before their long journey. Once he had prepared the horse, he went back to the room to wake Lara.

The sunshine coming in through the windows lit the room. Lara was sprawled out on the bed like a cat. Walking over to the side of the bed, Bram looked down at her. Wisps of hair spread across the pillow like a spider’s web, and her face was buried in the covers. The sheets were tucked around her, hugging her form. He could see the curve of her waist to her hip, and down to her small feet. It made him desperately want to snuggle up behind her and hold her in his arms.

Bram felt very protective of her, and could not control the feelings and emotions stirring within him. He felt as if he had known her a lifetime, yet he barely knew her at all. Days had felt like years when they were confined in the dungeon. He could not distinguish whether his feelings for her were friendly or something more. All he knew was that he would protect her with his life, and cut down any man who treated her poorly.

Lara stirred, feeling someone watching her. She slowly opened her eyes and looked about the room. Bram had been staring down at her; his eyebrows were furrowed and he looked forlorn. His close proximity to her made her breath quicken and she wanted to jump out of the bed and put distance between them. Bram gave her a soft smile before he spoke.

“It is time to wake. I have brought ye something to eat,” he said handing her an apple.

As he reached to hand her the apple, Lara noticed how calloused his hands were and all of the tiny little scars along the backs of them. His hands were twice as big as hers, and, she imagined, quite strong as well. They were the hands of a warrior.

Lara grabbed the apple and took a small bite, its juice beading on her lips.

Bram’s heart fluttered at the site of Lara licking the juice from her lips. How sweet they would taste if only he was given the opportunity. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to scoop her into his arms and kiss her.

Bram scolded himself. He needed to get his wits about him. She was married, and even if her husband was a bloody bastard, he would not dishonor Lara by causing her to break her vows. He made a pledge to himself that he would push these feelings aside and keep his promise to her to escort her home; and for his sake, the sooner the better.

As they left the town, the terrain changed dramatically. The ground became uneven and rocky, causing the horse to slow its pace as they rode up the steep hillside. Lara heard the sound of gravel and rocks as they tumbled down the cliff behind them. Once they reached the top of the hill, Lara looked out over the land. It was magnificent.

Spreading before her were rolling hills and high mountains, lush greenery and a dark dense forest as far as she could see, known by many as the Black Forest. It was rumored that not only was the forest home to a gang of highwaymen, but that it was haunted as well. Not many dared to enter the woods from the south. Most Lowlanders traveled around the forest to reach the northern territory. In the center of the Black Forest was Loch Lomond. Once they reached the loch they would be safely in Highland territory.

A chill shook Lara to her core as they approached the mouth of the forest. It was as dark as the night sky, with not a speck of light shining through the heavily leaved branches overhead.

“Will we need to camp in there tonight?” she asked, feeling chill bumps creep up her arm as they approached the darkness.

“Aye. But I ken what path to take to stay away from unwanted visitors that may be lurking in these woods. Dinna worry, lass,” he said as he held her tighter in his arms.

Holding her so close to his body made it much more difficult to keep his hands from wandering. Bram stirred in the saddle as he immensely enjoyed the feeling of her backside against his front.

“But the howls in the distance – are ye no’ afraid?”

“They be only wolves, lass. Nothing more.”

“Do ye no’ believe in the legends of these woods?”

Bram chuckled.

“Lass, who do ye think the legends were meant to scare? ‘Twas the Highlanders who told those stories, to keep enemies wary of entering these woods.”

His confidence gave Lara a little sense of relief but not enough to calm her completely. She kept her eyes trained firmly on their surroundings.

“Honestly, lass, there is nay a thing to worry about. We will rest once we reach Loch Lomond.”

Cresting the last wooded hill, the sight of Loch Lomond at the bottom of the valley was far more beautiful than Lara had imagined. The sunlight twinkled off the surface of the water like tiny stars fallen to earth. As they reached the loch, they dismounted and rested for a short while, as Bram had promised.

The hot sun beat down on them. Lara did not recall a hotter summer than this, and there was no evidence that rain had fallen in weeks. The grass beneath them was dry and beginning to brown. Within the hour, they once again continued their journey to Stearns Castle.

Chapter 11

Stearns Castle was built on the highest point of a hill that overlooked the village. Its outer stone walls stood tall and intimidating, easily twenty or thirty feet high, and looked as if they could touch the clouds. Lacking windows, the castle looked forbidding.

As they approached the gate, a guard stopped them from entering. When the guard turned and looked at Lara he almost lost his footing. His jaw slightly fell open and his gaze looked dazed, as if someone had hit him over the head. Without hesitation, the guard opened the gates and allowed them entry.

“Mistress? What are ye doing here, my lady?” the guard asked.

“Adrian, I must insist on speaking with my father. Where is he? My husband has done something terrible.”

“I am afraid, my lady, that yer father is no’ here. He has traveled with John to Bergen.”

“Bergen, Norway?” Lara raised her voice puzzled why her father would have traveled so far.

“Aye, my lady.”

Lara struggled to offer him a friendly smile. Without her father, she knew not what to do. If Dermot learned she had returned home, he would surely come for her. Suddenly, she felt a bout of nausea come over her.

Bram quietly walked up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. She turned a solemn face to him. She did not want to cry. Not now. Not ever. She was glad that he did not show her pity. Instead, his slight smile lifted her spirits. His eyes were the color of honey, a light amber shade. She mused that she hadn’t noticed them before. They reminded her of a warm autumn day, just as the leaves began to turn gold.

“Thank ye fer bringing me home, Bram.”

“Lara, I promised ye my protection and Highlanders dinna break our promises,” Bram curled his lip and gave her a genuine smile.

“I suppose ye will be leaving now?” she asked. Sadness crept inside her heart at having to say goodbye. There was so much more she wanted to learn about him. They had shared an experience few others survived. Their acquaintance was short, but their bond was strong.

“Aye.”

“I shall never forget ye and yer kindness,” Lara said as she stepped up on the tips of her toes and softly planted a kiss to his rough cheek. “God speed,” she whispered in his ear before lowering her feet back to the ground.

Bram turned to mount his horse. Lara wanted to ask him to stay, to at least rest for a night, but she did not.

Just as he mounted the horse, a woman called out to them from a distance. Hiking up her dress, she ran towards them at a full sprint. As the woman came closer, her features became more distinct. She was an older woman, dressed in a plain brown dress covered by a white linen apron tied around her plump waist. Her grey hair was tightly braided except for a few loose tendrils that flew in the wind. As she drew closer, Lara recognized the old woman. It was Moira, her clan’s head cook.

Breathlessly, Moira cried out, “My lady, my lady!”

Lara veered to face her and greet the old woman.

“Moira, what is it?” Lara asked.

With no response, Moira swung her arms around Lara. Lara squeezed her equally as tight. Stepping out of her embrace, Lara looked into the old woman’s eyes. She had aged since Lara had last seen her. Deep wrinkles creased across her forehead and her eye lids sagged as if she had not slept in a month.

“Oh be gone wit ye, ye auld brute,” Moira snapped at the guard, as if he was intruding on a private conversation. “Oh, my lady. Tis good to see ye. Ach, dinna they feed her at that castle? Ye are skin and bones!”

“Tis a long and dreadful story, Moira. But I must ask. Do ye ken when my father is expected to return?”

“I dinna ken.” Lara’s look of despair caused Moira to frown. “I’m sorry lass, but in order to see him, I’m afraid ye would have to travel to Norway; a ridiculous notion. Nay, ye will stay right here and wait fer him to return. I’ll no’ have ye traveling that far by yerself to find him.” Moira said with a comforting pat.

“But Moira, I must go. I must speak to him. Why has he traveled so far?”

Moira eyed Bram suspiciously.

“Ye can trust him, Moira,” Lara reassured her.

“My lady, strange things have happened since ye left. If yer father kenned I ken anything of his plans he would have strung me up from the gallows.”

“Whatever ye ken Moira, I promise yer secret is safe wit’ me,” Lara promised.

Moira looked around, making sure no one could hear what she was about to reveal.

“I was cleaning up the stairs as I usually do. Yer father and John were in the library talking. I overhead ‘em. I dinna go eavesdropping deliberately, ye ken. They said that the King of Norway was dying; said that because he has nay any heirs that there is nay one to take the throne but his brother whom he had been feuding. Yer father plans to propose John as his vassal to take the throne.”

“Vassal?”

“Aye. They plan to claim John as his cousin. Oh, my lady, if the people of Norway ken they were tricked, the country would be in turmoil. The war between Norway and Denmark could then cause war with England and France and that be nay good fer any of us.”

Bram thought about Lara’s predicament and what this would mean for Scotland.

“I will take ye,” he offered

“What?” Lara turned and asked as if she had not heard him.

“I will take ye to Norway to see yer father. I have some distant relatives there on my Mam’s side.”

“Bram, we can nay go to Norway. Moira is right. ‘Tis an insane idea. Bergen is a royal castle. We cannae just walk into the gates and demand an audience.”

Bram smiled at her, “Aye lass, we can.”

Lara felt perplexed. She paced back and forth, her brow rising and falling. Bram and Moira both patiently waited until Lara stopped and looked from one to the other.

“King! John to be king! He has nay royal blood and he is no’ even Norwegian.”

“I dinna ken what I can say, my lady,” Moira replied.

“Then there is only one thing I can do. We will go to Norway and seek my father. Perhaps all will be revealed once I arrive.”

“God be wit ye both,” Moira said, holding onto Lara’s hand.

Bram knew that their route would take them further east, to the city of Aberdeen, the nearest port. From there, they would travel by boat across the sea and arrive in Norway a few days later.

“Lass, we have a long journey ahead of us. We should leave now, if ye truly wish to go,” Bram suggested.

Lara turned and hugged Moira one last time. Bram knew there were no easy roads to take north to Aberdeen, nor were they safe. They would be traveling through rough terrain and alongside steep hills, but his worst fear was crossing paths with the English.

Chapter 12

 

 

Dark clouds covered the sky. Though it was mid-day, the sky turned dark as night as a raging storm caused a heavy downpour. Bram offered Lara his plaid and tightly wrapped her in it. Even with the plaid, she was soaked to the bone.

As thunder and lightning struck, Lara buried her head deeper into Bram’s hold. As the air cooled, her teeth started to chatter. She felt Bram wrap his arm around her tighter, but instead of snuggling into him as she so desperately wanted, she sat upright, keeping a small space between them.

Lara wanted to ask Bram to stop in order for her to stretch out her legs and perhaps warm herself by a fire, but she remained silent. The chances of finding dry wood were slim. Everything was wet. The ground was soft and muddy, causing the horse to slow.

In the forefront of her mind was speculation about how her father would react when he learned everything that had befallen her. She wondered if he would take vengeance upon her husband, or send her back. Her whole life Lara had wondered why her father was so harsh towards her but so lenient with John. Perhaps he was upset that she was a girl, and not one of the many sons that he had wanted.

Her mother, Elsa, only gave birth to the two of them, and after that refused to lay with him again. He bedded other women and blamed Elsa for his acts of adultery. William was a hard man, even towards Elsa. It was only after her death that he expressed his love for her and built the wall around his heart. It was John he turned his attentions to, forcing him to study and train until he was stumbling with sleep deprivation.

Lara imagined that a great king would do no less, but the thought of her brother becoming a king was still something that she could not fathom. To her, he was still nothing more than her older brother; he was selfish, and oftentimes made fun of her. But a king? Someone who would rule over and go into great battles? The idea of her brother doing such things was unthinkable.

Lara and Bram rode north along the coast. As the rain continued to fall, Bram steered the horse into the trees along the mountainside, hoping it would lessen the rain falling on them. The wind changed, blowing rain that felt like needles were piercing his face. He prayed that the storm would stop soon and that they could find shelter before nightfall. They would certainly become ill, sleeping outside in wet clothing with no fire to warm them. He worried about Lara as she uncontrollably shook in his arms, her teeth vigorously chattering. Desperately, he searched for a dry place to take cover from the cold rain.

As they continued through the forest of young oaks and pines, Bram spotted a small opening along the rock face. He let out a long sigh of relief and thanked God for answering his prayers. The entrance to the cavern was so small that he almost missed it. It did not look deep, but would offer sufficient protection.

“Lass,” Bram whispered in a gentle tone. She had fallen asleep against his chest. He did not want to wake her. He immensely enjoyed holding her in his arms, but he did not want her cause of death to be exposure to the elements. He spoke softly into her ear,

“Lara, I have found us cover from the rain.”

Lara raised her head and opened her eyes. Bram dismounted and walked the horse under a group of tall pines, stringing the reins around a sturdy branch before helping Lara down. He extended his hand to her, but she did not accept it. Hurt filled the caverns of his heart when she sidestepped him, evading his gesture.

When Bram reached out for her, Lara was inclined to put her small hand into his. But there was no reason for it. She had no trouble walking on her own and accepting the gesture was inappropriate under the circumstances, especially if she wanted to maintain her distance. Over the past several days, she had noticed these small gestures Bram offered, and they only confused her. He was not behaving as she had expected. He was supposed to be a brave Highland warrior but instead, he was acting like a besotted fool.

Bram’s mood quickly turned grim.

“There’s a cavern just o’er there. Go on inside. I will meet ye there in a bit.”

Bram stalked off in search of dry wood, leaving the lass to attend to her needs. After several long moments of searching, he found a few dry logs under a pile of thick brush. Gathering them under one arm, he walked back over to the horse to grab the saddlebags. Once he had everything he needed, he walked back to the cave.

Lara unraveled the wet plaid around her as it no longer offered her warmth and sat on the cold ground. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. It wasn’t very long before Bram returned with an arm full of logs.

Dropping the logs with a hard thud, Bram sat down and dug through his bag. His brows furrowed and the forlorn look on his face told Lara that her dismissal must have angered him, but she had not the faintest idea why.

As he emptied the bag onto the ground she saw the reason for his expression. All of the peat and food, other than a single apple, had been spoiled by the rain.

“Damnation,” he growled and threw the logs of soaked peat through the mouth of the cave into the rain.

With nothing more than an apple left, Bram knew there would not be enough to fill their bellies. But food, for now, would have to wait. His first concern was starting the fire to warm Lara. Taking out a flint, he tried to light the half soaked wood. It took several attempts until a fire sparked to life. Bram stood and removed his tunic and placed it on a rock near the fire to dry. He sat down in front of it across from Lara and allowed the fire to warm him.

“Ye need to get out of yer wet clothes.”

“Pardon me!”

“Ye will get sick if ye stay in them and ye will get nay benefit from sitting next to the fire all wet.”

“I will do nay such thing. No’ in front of ye!” she retorted.

“I am no’ trying to take advantage of the situation. If ye will only see the right of it, I only have yer best interest at heart. I am no’ a spiteful mon, Lara. But I will no’ sit here and allow ye to be irrational over the matter. If ye prefer, once the plaid dries ye can take off yer gown and cover yerself wit’ the plaid until yer dress is dry enough to put back on.”

Lara did not at all like being treated as a child, nor did she like the idea of sitting with nothing but a plaid to cover her, but she knew he spoke the truth. She was shivering in her wet gown, and did not know how much longer she could withstand the cold. The flames of the fire offered some warmth, but it was not enough. She felt the chill in her bones.

Bram took the apple and sliced it in half with his dirk. He handed her one of the halves, and in two bites he finished the other.

“I will need to go out and get us some food before we lose the light. It will soon be too dark” Bram informed her as he stood up.

“But it is still raining out,” Lara said.

Bram smiled at her show of concern. But he had spent many days in rain such as this, and he had little choice in the matter but to find food.

“I will be fine, lass. Stay here and keep yerself warm. I will nay be long.”

Lara crept closer to the fire and clutched the plaid. It appeared dry enough to wrap around her. Waiting until she could no longer hear Bram’s footsteps outside the cave, she slid her gown off her shoulders. Its silk fabric clung to her body. Slipping out of the gown, she stood naked in front of the fire for a moment. Once she was warm, she donned the plaid, doing the best she could to cover every inch of her exposed skin.

After a long while, Bram had still not returned and Lara’s stomach ached. She decided there was only one thing to do: find her own meal. But how?

Digging though Bram’s bag, she found a small dagger in the side pocket. Taking the dagger, Lara tightened the top of the plaid around her bosom so that it would not fall down. Creeping towards the exit, Lara poked her head out and called out for Bram. No answer. The rain had stopped, so Lara decided to go in search of something, anything she could eat. Quieting her movements, she heard a rustling noise coming from a small bush. Taking one step closer to it, she listened to the noise and waited. Holding the dagger up like her brother had shown her, she waited until the creature showed itself.

The bush shook and a small hare jumped out into the open. Lara flung the dagger towards it hitting her mark. Bending down, Lara picked up the dead rabbit and carried it back inside the cave.

Shortly after, Bram returned with a small skinned boar hanging upside down from a branch. Rainwater dripped off him and puddled under his feet.

“Ye must be freezing. Best ye come sit by the fire to warm yerself before ye succumb to fever,” Lara cautioned.

Bram laughed wickedly; its sound echoing through the small cavern.

“I can only think of one way to warm a mon in these circumstances,” he said, giving her a meaningful smile.

“Please dinna look at me that way,” Lara replied turning her head away from him and tightening the plaid around her shoulders.

“Look at ye like what?”

“Like I am a harlot and no’ a married woman.”

Bram slapped his leg and chuckled.

“Ach lass. Ye think I mean to bed ye. I promise that as tempting as that may sound, I only be talking about drowning myself in a tankard of whisky,” he replied shaking his head at the lass’s silly assertion.

Lara felt like a fool, embarrassing herself with her assumption. She shifted in place as she became increasingly uncomfortable with his laughter as he looked at her. It was bad enough that she was sitting half naked in his plaid as she waited for her dress to dry.

She did not think that believing he wished to bed her was such a ridiculous notion. After all, he had given plenty of indications that he wanted more than just a friendship. She considered the thought that perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps he did not care for her in that manner. In truth, she should be pleased, for if he did have feelings for her, there was nothing either of them could do about it.

As Bram sat down, he noticed the dead hare lying on a slab of stone.

In surprise, he asked, “Where the bloody hell did that come from?”

“I caught it. Ye were gone so long I thought perhaps ye could no’ find food.”

“Ye? Ye caught that? How?” he asked still surprised that the lass could perform such a task – and without a weapon!

“I found yer dagger and hit him like a bow would hit a moving target.”

“Where the bloody hell did ye learn that?”

“My brother. He taught me many useful things. I may be a lass but I am verra capable of taking care of myself,” she stated very proudly as she handed the dead creature to Bram.

Lara watched Bram as he cleaned, then began roasting, the rabbit and small boar. It did not take long until they were fully cooked. With the small dagger he kept tucked in his boot, he carved the meat from the bone and handed her a slice.

“How did ye catch that wit’ out a bow?” Lara asked, never seeing a man catch a boar with only his hands. Boars were very strong and quick and could jump right out of a predator’s grasp.

“I am good at hunting. When I was a lad, my father and uncle would take my brother Rory, my cousin Ewan, and me hunting wit’ out weapons. They taught us how to use the land and use what is around us to hunt and survive. In hunting, as in fighting, ye need strategy and can no’ always depend on yer weapon, fer the only weapon ye truly have is yer wit.”

“Ye dinna talk much about yer brother. Are ye close to him?”

“My brother and I are two verra different people. What about ye? Are ye close to yer brother?”

“We were close when we were young, but as he got older he grew distant.”

“If he is no’ blood to the throne, why do ye suppose he could be passed off as the King’s only successor?”

“I dinna ken. When my father lived in Norway he met my mum and married her, returning to her home in Scotland. He never talked about Norway or anything of his or her past. After the death of young Lady Margaret the Queen of the Scots, he began traveling back and forth stating that his interest in Norway was purely business. Perhaps he decided to offer John as a loyal subject, worthy of the crown.”

“Dinna ye think it odd, that ye only found out after yer father married ye off to Laird Moray?”

Lara thought hard on his question. Searching her memories, she did not recall any announcement or talks of John ever taking over the throne. What were the reasons behind waiting for her to be married off to announce such a thing? And why would they not have invited her? So many unanswered questions danced around in her head. She wondered what other secrets they had kept from her. She was almost afraid to find out.