Prologue
The 11th day of August
In the Year of Our Lord, 1308
The stench of blood and sweat and death permeated the air around the field. The victory here had assured Scotland’s embattled king that he would gain the foothold he needed in the west, and break the power of some of the more dangerous “lords of the isles.” Thinking to ambush his troops as they made their way toward the coast, the MacDougalls had underestimated his abilities and those of his supporters.
As he stood before the man who had handed him victory at the battle of Brander Pass that morning, the Bruce was covered in not a little blood. Robert smiled grimly.
“You have your orders, Sebastien. Carry them out. Those who will accompany you to Dunstaffnage know their duties and will support anything you do there in my name.”
His most trusted warrior and spy simply nodded as he always did, and turned to leave. Sebastien of Cleish had presented him with their enemy’s ambush plans and a clever strategy in response to it.
“Wed or dead by nightfall, Sebastien, and I’ll be wanting proof of either one.”
“Aye, sire. Wed or dead.” The warrior bowed to him and was already on his way out of the tent when he spoke the words.
Robert took a deep breath before calling his squire to help him undress. Dunstaffnage Castle, the MacDougall’s lands and his eldest daughter, the Maid of Lorne, would be within his grasp before the sun set this evening.
Chapter One
She’d closed the gates against him.
In spite of the messenger sent with the news of the Bruce’s victory over her father, she refused him entrance into Dunstaffnage Castle. Sebastien was definitely leaning toward the “dead” portion of his orders from the king as he sat outside the main gate. Letting out an exasperated breath, he motioned to one of the men surrounding the three sides of the castle facing the land, and nodded.
Peering up to the battlements, he could see the eldest daughter of John MacDougall watching his every move. He pushed the helm and mail off his head and waited for their weapon to be brought forward. His horse danced beneath him, probably feeling the strain of the battle of wills going on around it. Sebastien was certainly feeling it. With the glare of the sun behind her, he could not quite get a clear look at his adversary.
Hearing the noises behind him, he moved over a few paces so that their hostages were clearly visible to all watching from the upper levels of the castle. The commotion behind him increased and he watched as Lara MacDougall drew nearer to the edge of the crenellated wall and looked over. She grabbed hold of the stone as though she needed support.
If he’d been the one watching his younger siblings wrapped in chains and dragged by the heavily armed warriors of their deadliest enemy, he might react badly, too. The young boy and girl were also screeching loud enough to be heard by anyone within miles.
His quarry stepped back from the wall and he lost sight of her for a minute before she leaned out again. Sebastien could hear the argument going on, but could not make out the words. The only thing he could tell was that not everyone was in agreement with whatever she planned to do. He realized that he had not heard her voice yet, for earlier her steward had called out her responses to his demands.
“What are your terms?” she called now.
Sebastien laughed aloud before answering. “Terms? I will not kill these two if you open the gates immediately. Delay and I will not even promise that.” He dismounted and his squire ran forward to take control of the horse from him. “I am tired and not in good humor, lady. If you make me fight my way in, I also promise thatyouwill bear the consequences.”
The air was filled with expectation as everyone waited. Sebastien had no doubt that she would order the gates open. Her brother and sister had told him that much on the ride here. They’d revealed that she’d always stood between them and danger, but this time, in trying to send them away from danger, she’d inadvertently placed them in the path of it.
Sebastien had been honest, though; he was tired and wanted to bring this to an end. He wanted nothing so much as a hot bath to rid himself of the odors and filth of battle and blood, and the sooner he got inside, the sooner he might have exactly that. Of course, depending on her actions, he might have one more messy task to accomplish for his king before he bathed.
She disappeared from the battlements and he heard her calling out orders as she ran. He put his helmet back on and mounted again, for it was better to face enemies well-armed and from the back of a horse than on the ground. With a wave of his hand, his men regrouped around him and the children were moved to the back, out of danger from misfired arrows or misguided men.
Would she feel humiliated when she discovered the truth of his treatment of her siblings? How would she react when he offered her the choice that Robert had demanded only hours ago—wed or dead? Now, after seeing her valiant efforts to defend her home, he was certain it would not be an easy thing to carry out her execution. He would, of course, if she did not consent to the marriage, but it would be more difficult than following other orders from the Bruce.
The scraping of wood and metal filled the air as the portcullis was raised and the gates pulled open. Then, with loud squealing, the drawbridge was lowered to the ground. Two guards marched forward with one woman between them. Sebastien was tempted to laugh again, but spared his adversary the humiliation. As if these two men could protect her against anything he wanted to do… The small group stopped after crossing the bridge and stepping onto the rocky ground surrounding the MacDougall fortress.
“Secure the castle,” Sebastien called out without ever lifting his gaze from her face. A troop of his men rode forward, the hooves of their horses clattering on the wood of the drawbridge.
She looked as though she wanted to say something, but hesitated. Now that he could see her features, he realized she was younger than he’d first thought. She wore a plain gown and had her blond hair pulled back and woven into a long thick braid. But the hautiness and arrogance of the MacDougall was etched on her face.
Sebastien dismounted once more and approached her. Her expression displayed a hint of fear as he drew near, and then she seemed to control it.
“How many years have you?” He scrutinized her face and form as he asked. ’Twas difficult to tell from just looking. He reached up and removed the helmet he wore and pushed his hair and the mail over it back off his head.
“Enough to know that only one of the Bruce’s minions would use children as his shield….”
Her words drifted off as he dropped his helm and reached out to take hold of her face. Pulling her by her chin, he dragged her close enough so that only she could hear his words. Staring directly into her cold blue eyes, he clarified her new position so there would be no mistake.
