“Of course not. I but thought it a poor time for ye to come to blows with the mon. Aye, ye had your sword but no armor, and ye needed to get to your feet. ’Tis also dark and the shadows can hide much treachery. I didnae trust the mon to face you fairly, thought he might have goaded you on purpose.”
“Ah, and had a companion or two lurking close at hand to aid him in cutting me down. ’Tis possible.” He touched his lips to her forehead and rested his cheek against her head. “Ye had best get some sleep, dearling. Our pace will increase now as we turn north and draw nearer to Scotland. Our moments of rest will grow shorter, and rest is what ye need to heal.”
“I wasnae hurt badly,” she murmured, then quickly smothered a yawn.
“Ye will be stiff on the morrow, and I fear there can be no respite from travel.”
After giving a sleepy nod, she snuggled up more comfortably against him. He was big and strong, his skin beautifully taut and warm. She already felt stiff and achy but made no complaint. She would simply have to endure and hope her recovery was swift. The way Hacon lightly massaged her helped a great deal, and she murmured her appreciation.
As sleep gained a grip on her, she thought of Balreaves again. She wished she could forget the man but knew that would be unwise. He was a threat that needed careful watching, both for Hacon’s sake and her own. Balreaves was a murderer, his hands stained with the blood of her mother. Trying to press even closer to Hacon, she prayed the man would not spill Hacon’s blood. If Balreaves killed Hacon, it would leave as many scars upon her heart as her mother’s death.
Chapter 10
“To Liddesdale?” Jennet gaped at Hacon as he helped her off her pony.
“Aye, to Liddesdale.” Hacon handed the reins to Dugald, who led his hose and Jennet’s pony away.
All the pleasure Jennet felt over being back in Scotland began to fade. They had finally turned north after Skipton. It had taken nearly two long, hard months to get home, two months of swift travel broken by periods of bloodletting and plunder. Now they were back in Scotland and the horror would soon end. Her heart had lightened when they crossed the border that morning, but Hacon’s talk of Liddesdale ended that. Why did he want to take her to her family?
“But why? What is in Liddesdale?”
Clasping her hand, Hacon began looking for the best place to site their camp amongst the thick tangle of bracken. “Did ye not tell me your mother’s kinsmen live there? Ah, this place will do. Iain,” he called to one of his men. “Start our fire here.” His hands on his hips, Hacon frowned at Jennet. “Ye dinnae look pleased with the news. Do ye not wish to see your kinsmen?”
“Weel, aye, yet I cannae see why ye wish to take me there. ’Tis not on the way to Dubheilrig, and ye were verra eager to return to your home. I thought that was why ye had decided to leave the army come the morning.”
“Aye. There is no sense in riding all the way to Stirling or wherever the king is holding his court, just to be formally disbanded. We will part from the army by midday. And ’tisnae so out of the way either. Your kinsman may have news of your father.”
“Aye, they may have.”
“Come, lass.” He lightly kissed her mouth. “Dinnae look so woeful. They may have good news.”
“True. If he survived Perth, they would be certain to ken it.”
Hacon nodded, then quickly moved away to get their blankets. The men were doing fine on their own, but he felt a need to slip away from Jennet the moment Perth was mentioned. Instead of finding comfort in his lie, he grew more afraid of it with each day that had passed. He could not believe his luck had held, that she had yet to hear the truth. Yet, at other times, he had the feeling she already knew. It was one reason he wanted to go to Liddesdale. If there was good news about her father, he could rid himself of the lie that now stood between them.
Jennet frowned after Hacon. The chance to visit Liddesdale should please her, but it did not. She was certain Hacon meant to leave her there and that thought stole all the joy from the prospect of seeing her family again.
“Jennet.”
Starting, she turned to see Elizabeth behind her. “Ye are still with us then. Robert didnae make ye remain in England.”
“Nay, only Mary stayed. Robert left her with a farmer and his family who said they would help her return to her family. Now . . .” She linked her arm with Jennet’s, but stumbled over an exposed tree root when she started to walk. “Curse it. Why do these fools nest amongst the trees like birds? Are there no flat places in this land?”
“Aye, enough when the rivers and lochs havenae overrun their banks. Howbeit, from what I understand, they avoid the open places because they dinnae wish to be caught out in the open by the English.”
“Do you think the English are after us?”
“Who can say? If they are, we are safest right here. In the open they can encircle us, use the land itself to trap us. They could push us into the mud, corner us so that we have them to our fore and some river or loch at our backs. ’Tis what we did to them at Bannockburn and they were slaughtered.”
“I have suddenly grown very fond of these forests and thickets,” Elizabeth muttered, and smiled when Jennet laughed.
“Where are we going?” Jennet asked as Elizabeth pulled her along.
“There is clean, fresh water near at hand. While the men are busy making camp, we will slip away and bathe.”
“How I would love that, but I must tell Ranald first. I cannae wander off without leaving word.”
“Or with him following close at hand. We are in luck, for here comes your guard with your babe.”
