“Heathenish savage. King Edward prevailed and now rules all of Britannia. Our noisy buckets soundly defeated you. Now bend the knee.” Sir Richard thrust out his hand with a signet ring. Blaine withdrew a dirk and made a downward swiping motion that the knight barely avoided.
“Try that again in ma home, and ye will come away minus a finger or five.” Being called a heathen or a savage was nothing new to Highlanders. They’d heard it from their Lowland neighbors as well as the English. But they didn’t care since they were victorious more often than not. Blaine intended to distract the knights long enough for his men to scout whether more men accompanied those standing before him. He needed to ensure no one could besiege his castle before he made his next move.
“Why do ye want Lady Greer?” Thor understood Blaine’s tactic without having it explained, but he wanted to know why anyone in England wished to take Greer. He wanted to know how anyone had even heard of her.
“Our Majesty sent us on behest of John Gallda MacDougall.”
Teeth gritted, lips thinned, and eyes narrowed throughout the Great Hall. The MacDougall name wasn’t well received in the Highlands. John Gallda’s grandfather, John MacDougall, Lord of Argyll, sided with Edward I and was forced from Scotland for his betrayal to his countrymen. John Gallda grew up in England, and as far as anyone in the Highlands was concerned, he was not Scottish of any sort.
Thor’s heart raced. Greer’s mother was a Macnaughten before she married Edgar Gunn. The Macnaughtens allied with the MacDougalls and fought against the Bruce during the First War of Scottish Independence. They eventually came around to the Scottish king’s cause, but never entirely severed their ties to the MacDougalls. As best Thor knew, John Gallda MacDougall was unwed. Thor’s stomach dropped. Did John intend to marry Greer and return to Scotland to reclaim his land? Did he think he could inherit Macnaughten land through Greer? Why else would he take interest in her? Thor knew little about the Macnaughtens beyond what Greer told him nearly a decade ago. Back then, her mother was the only daughter, and Greer was the only granddaughter. He knew nothing about the male lineage.
Matthew Gunn pushed forward. “Nay. Absolutely nae. Lady Greer is nae going to that English bastard. She’s a Gunn nae a Macnaughten.”
Thor fought to keep from sneering. Now the man would claim her as a respected Gunn. Only when he stood to lose the alliance he wanted. Allying with the MacDougalls would worsen their stance in the Highlands. Greer was a Gunn through her birth father, Albert. He was a Gunn warrior and sided against Edgar in the last battle. Greer’s illegitimacy had been a secret until recently.
“Lady Greer is already married.” Thor watched Sir Richard’s reaction before darting his gaze to the Gunns. “We handfasted eight years ago, but it ended. We handfasted again a moon ago, just before we arrived here. We married by consent an hour ago.”
“So, you never married in a church. Not surprising given your heretical practices in this godforsaken land.” Sir Richard looked down his nose at Thor.
“Lady Greer has been a wife in truth twice.” Thor hoped Greer’s lack of virginity would send Sir Richard and his men away. He doubted John knew about their first handfast since only a handful of Gunns did, and no one in any other clan did. The one person who did—Jamie—had been dead for years. He counted on none of the Gunns revealing Greer’s life for the past eight years since they wouldn’t want Laird MacDonnell to learn of it. Unless—had he been one of the men?
“All the better,” Sir Richard responded. “Sir John likes a woman who knows what she’s doing. I’ve heard she—”
“How have ye heard aught all the way in England? Ye must be a spy. Ye ken what happens to them.” Thor watched as the Sinclair and Keith guards moved their hands closer to their dirk handles, ready to withdraw them and punish the man Thor accused of espionage.
Blaine would gladly allow his men to run the royal guards through, but he needed to be more prudent about this. If there were more Englishmen waiting outside his gates, then they would question where their leader and the other men went. If there were none, then he could easily claim no one made it to his keep. He could leave them somewhere miles away from the keep or even cross onto Gunn land and dump them there. The sea would swallow them whole. He needed Thor not to incite a riot.
“Ye have delivered yer message, but ye will nae leave with a Clan Keith guest. She has sanctuary here from them,” Blaine jerked his chin toward the Gunns, “so she remains.”
“You are not a church. You cannot grant anyone sanctuary.”
“But I am a priest. I’m Father Bennett.” A man in his early forties stepped forward. His hands were steepled before him as he strode toward the unwanted guests. “Lady Greer sought sanctuary with me, and I granted it. She is in the keep because something injured her earlier. She will return to her place within the kirk forthwith. She is under the protection of our Lord Almighty. Would ye violate the sanctity of our Holy Church?”
“She cannot be under your protection if she has a husband.” Sir Richard tried to assert himself, but the priest shot him a pitying mien.
“Of course, she can. Do nae be ridiculous. One doesnae negate the other. By the by, ye are in the Diocese of Caithness. Ma brother, Fearchar Belegaumbe,is the bishop. We began our service to our Lord in the parish of Dunbeath. Mayhap ye ken of the Sinclairs? We are a most devout family. Should ye violate Lady Greer’s right to sanctuary, then I will ride to ma brother. He will excommunicate ye before ye can leave Keith land. His writ is binding even in England. Do ye have children, Sir Richard? They will have a right time trying to marry with an excommunicated father. Such a shame to a family. And such a shame ye will have to support them.”
“I have no issue. You do not scare me, priest.”
Father Bennett came to stand before Sir Richard with his hands clasped before him, his shoulders rolled forward. Now he dropped his hands and stood to his full height. He’d been born and bred in the Highlands. He stood four inches taller than Sir Richard, and his broad shoulders were more reminiscent of a warrior than a meek man of the cloth.
“Have ye ever heard of Odo of Bayeux? He was King William the Conqueror’s half-brother and both the Bishop of Bayeux and the Earl of Kent. He was a mon of the cloth who carried a club into the Battle of Hastings. We all ken who won that war, but did ye ken he served as regent when his brother was away? I ask ye this because it isnae uncommon to find warrior monks in history. We canna wield a sword, but we can wield a club. Come near Lady Greer, and ye shall learn what it means to meet a Highland priest.” Father Bennett stared, unblinking, at the Englishman. “I didna come out of ma mother’s womb a monk, Sir Richard. I had a great many years of training both in the lists and in the church before I took ma vows.”
Thor watched the man. He hadn’t realized the Bishop of Caithness, who made his home near Dunbeath, and Father Bennett were related. Now that he looked, he could see the similarities. The bishop was a strapping man who also wielded a club. Thor recalled seeing him train in the lists with it when he was merely the Dunbeath parish priest. He’d met other men who’d trained to be warriors before being called to the priesthood. While none carried a sword, none forgot their skills either.
“You will not convince me that Lady Greer is under your protection or that of the church. You will not convince me she is married to this heathen. You will not convince me of anything because I am leaving with the woman now. Move aside.” Sir Richard attempted to step around Father Bennett, but not only did the priest shift to block him, all the guards surged forward. Thor held up his hand and moved to stand beside the monk.
“Leave with yer life. Insist, and ye will be responsible for yer men’s deaths. We have entertained yer presence long enough. Lady GreerSinclairis ma wife. She canna marry anyone else because she is already carrying ma bairn. Ye willna make ma wife a bigamist, nor will ye make the future heir to the Clan Sinclair illegitimate. Choose: yer life or yer death.”
“Sir John will not back down so easily. We will return with more men. You will have no choice but to acquiesce unless you wish this pile of rock turned to rubble.” Sir Richard spun on his heel, motioning for his men to follow him. No one in the Great Hall doubted he would return with more men, but now they knew to be ready. Once the main doors shut, the Gunns wasted no time focusing on Thor.
“Ye may have made him go away, but ye canna make us leave so easily.” Matthew crossed his arms. Thor laughed. He stalked toward the man and stood with his legs hip-width apart, his arms crossed. Despite being at least two decades older than Thor, Matthew looked like the child next to Thor’s enormous frame. The muscles in Thor’s forearms rippled as he flexed his hands beneath his elbows. He tilted his head from side to side, the corded muscles straining in his neck. He’d left the neckline of his leine untied, so the division between his pectorals was visible, each side chiseled.
“There is little that I canna do, Gunn. Do ye wish to test me? Ye lead yer men, and I lead mine. We go against each other as equals and see who comes out the winner. That mon decides what happens next.” Thor cocked an arrogant brow. He didn’t question Matthew’s experience, having seen the man on more than one battlefield. But he knew the older warrior was no match for Thor’s strength, and Matthew’s agility wasn’t what it was when Thor was an adolescent. He felt confident in his likely triumph.
Matthew maintained his impassive expression, but Thor knew he was racing to conceive an excuse not to fight Thor in a single combat. It didn’t have to be to the death. Thor was content to fight to Matthew’s disgrace.
“Ye are overly confident, and that shall be yer downfall, Sinclair.”
