“We sought shelter with a couple in their cottage. It was the cluster of crofts we passed. It wasn’t safe for Lady Caitlyn to sleep outdoors last night.” Alex’s hardened expression dared any of the men to speak against Caitlyn or him.
“Thank the merciful saints. We feared that’s what you’d had to do when we couldn’t find you. We rode until after sundown but found no trace of you. We did find Goldie.” Stephen shifted his gaze to Caitlyn, one of his eyes swollen shut. “We all survived, but not all of them did.”
“That means there are still some of them alive to chase me again.” Alex glanced down at Caitlyn, who was looking back at him over her shoulder. “You need to keep your distance from me, Caity.”
Neither noticed the informality, and it barely registered with the guards. But the other men sensed something was different between the couple and wondered what happened in the hours they spent separated from the nobles they were tasked to defend. The men nodded and slipped away, allowing Alex and Caitlyn to whisper.
“I know. That doesn’t mean I like it.” Caitlyn glanced nervously toward the stable doors. “Please promise you’ll have at least one of your men with you. You never rode out from Mangerton without men, even before. You’re a laird’s heir, and that obviously still means a great deal to some.”
“I know. But I need you to promise me you won’t venture away from the keep for the next few days.”
“Are you still leaving tomorrow?” Caitlyn needed to know, even though she didn’t want to hear it.
“No. I will delay a day to ensure you’re safe here and to see if aught comes from yesterday’s attack. I’m certain the Bruce will demand to meet with me. Perhaps he’ll have some insights.” Alex shifted, thinking to kiss Caitlyn, but he stopped himself in time. “You should go inside.”
“Be careful, Alex. I’m scared.” Caitlyn strained on her toes, dropping a kiss on his cheek before hurrying out of the stables. Alex watched Caitlyn enter the keep before turning toward the lists. He was exhausted and sore, but curiosity was stronger. He would either surprise himself and prove Caitlyn right, or he would make a fool of himself. But he had to find out whether he still possessed the strength he once had. He wanted to learn if he could train and still stay on his feet or if it was sheer luck and stubbornness that kept him alive in the valley.
Fourteen
Alex spotted the Armstrong and Kennedy guards training together as he entered the lists. He nearly turned back since they were in the center of the training ground. It made it all the easier for people to watch him knocked on his arse, and he had to walk past half the warriors to reach the men. He knew people were watching him, wondering what he was doing on the field. He weaved and avoided sparring partners until he came to the Armstrongs and Kennedys.
Keeping his voice low, Alex leaned forward. “You can imagine it surprised me as much as it did you yesterday. But apparently I haven’t forgotten how to fight, nor am I completely incapable. I need to know whether it was only the heat of battle or if I can still hold my own. There’s nowhere else within the walls to test me, so here I am.” Alex reached back and withdrew his sword from its sheath. It felt as natural as it had the day before; it felt as it always had. As he stared at his men, he noticed a couple targes laying nearby. He put his sword back into the scabbard before he picked up the wide leather shield. Cautiously, he slid it onto his left arm. He tried to move it, but it only made him wince. He angled it higher than normal, but it blocked most of his upper arm and forearm without having to raise it. He stepped into position with sword in hand.
David, the unofficial leader of the Armstrong group, stepped forward. He raised his sword and moved into a stance that could put him on the offensive or defensive. Like he’d done with Brice, Alex circled, waiting for a chance to strike. David lifted his sword and prepared to slice toward Alex, but the latter rammed his shielded arm into David’s chest, pushing him back several steps. Pain burst through Alex’s arm, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been when he rammed his shoulder into the man the day before.
Alex and David repositioned themselves and circled once more. They feinted and moved, testing one another until they both went on the offensive. Their swords clashed, the sound ringing out over the din of other fighters’ weapons. Alex twisted his wrist, bringing the flat side of his blade against David’s ribs. He danced away before his opponent could reach him. They continued thrusting and parrying until Stephen stepped forth. He raised his brow in question, and Alex nodded.
Alex now faced two men who were still a little uncertain about the force with which they should use against Alex, but when he knocked Stephen off his feet by sweeping his legs out from under him, then made David’s head ring when his targe bashed into it, both guardsmen held nothing back. Alex fell more than once, but no more than he pushed the others off their feet. For the next two hours, the men rotated amongst themselves, and Alex trained alongside them. He was certain he would likely regret the pain that increased with each jarring movement, but he didn’t regret regaining some of his self-worth.
“Bluidy hell, Alex.” Mitcham rubbed his thigh where he could feel a massive knot and bruise forming. “Brice wasn’t exaggerating. You’ve been holding out on us. It was just practice. You didn’t have to be so rough.”
The men grinned together as they left the lists. Alex and the others made their way to the well, where they passed a ladle around with cool water. When everyone was through, the men headed to the barracks while Alex turned toward the keep. He sensed the men wondered if at least one person should accompany him.
“The sun’s up, and the passageways are busy. I’ll have one of you with me this eve.” Alex decided for them and didn’t wait to see if they agreed. He crossed the bailey and entered the keep.
“Armstrong.” The youthful voice belonging to a page echoed in the passageway. “The king requests your presence.”
Alex nodded but frowned. He peered down at his filthy clothes and noticed the increasing pain in his arm. He supposed he should go to the Privy Council chamber immediately, but he was not presentable, and he would be in a foul mood if he didn’t soak his shoulder. He hadn’t figured out how to manage that without getting his stitches wet. But he was more inclined to experiment than to meet with the king. He called for a bath when he arrived at his chamber. By the time he’d stripped down and moved behind the screen, servants arrived with the tub and buckets of steaming water. The women still avoided him, which was fine by Alex.
When the chamber was empty save for him, he eased into the scalding water. He rested his left forearm on the rim of the tub and tried to slip lower in the water. He couldn’t find a position that allowed him to keep his bicep out of the water while submerging his shoulder. He settled for getting his shoulder close to the water and letting the steam ease some of the burning pain. When he could stand the awkwardness of the position no longer, he hurried to scrub himself before struggling into fresh clothes. A healthy dram of whisky from his flask gave him the fortification he needed to face the king.
It surprised Alex that he didn’t have to wait long to gain his audience. He worried how angry he made King Robert by keeping him waiting. When he entered the chamber, it shocked him to find it nearly empty. It was the middle of the day, and it was usually teeming with people. Alex glanced around until he noticed King Robert observing him.
“I suppose I should be grateful that you took the time to refresh yourself after hours in the lists.” King Robert’s sarcasm rang in the air. The snideness caught Alex off guard. He wondered if it merely annoyed the Bruce to be kept waiting, or if Alex’s return to training was the source of his ire. He bowed and waited for the king to motion for him to sit. “You disappeared with one of my wife’s ladies yesterday.”
“We went for a ride and picnic. Lady Caitlyn has sacrificed much to tend to me. I wished to give her the chance for some fresh air.”
“Half a day’s ride from here. A ride where you obviously didn’t take enough men.”
“You’ve heard.” Alex didn’t pose it as a question.
“Of course I have. Your men and Lady Caitlyn’s guard returned after sundown with the two of you nowhere to be seen. Everyone noticed your absence.” King Robert narrowed his eyes at Alex. “You’ve just made my task immeasurably more difficult.”
Alex’s heart pounded. A sick sensation told him to what task the Bruce referred. He didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to run back to his chamber, lock the door, and stick his head beneath his pillow.
“I see you’ve guessed. You don’t want the lady, so it’s time she married someone. Now I shall have to find a mon willing to take an already less-than-desirable bride with a reputation hanging by a thread.” King Robert glowered at Alex as the younger man bristled. “You can be offended all you want, but I have said naught that isn’t true. Ithoughtyou would step up and ask for her hand. Rather than do that, you refuse her and your duty. She deserves a home and a family.”
“With someone who will spend her dowry and resent her for the rest of her life?”
