Nuns might be invisible, but the Rivenlochs were clever and discerning.With the exception of Sir Hew, of course.Hew, not realizing Eve was a nun, had once tried to court her.
In any event, she needed to slip out of sight and watch from afar.
The worst thing about being a Rivenloch, Adam decided, was the visibility.
The clan was so well-known, it was nigh impossible for a Rivenloch man to blink an eye without someone reporting it to the town crier.
Yet, despite being the nephew of the laird, Adam la Nuit had somehow escaped the curse of Rivenloch fame.His cousins and even his sister were renown for their words and deeds.But no one really saw or remembered Adam.Which was how he was able to pose as the emissary of the Pope.
He supposed any other man would have been shaking in his boots to commit such sacrilege.
But Adam wasn’t afraid.Situations like this seldom frightened him.Indeed, his unflappable nature made his Rivenloch kin assume he was fearless.
That wasn’t quite true.
There were things Adam feared.Rabid wolves.Debilitating sickness.Being permanently marked by a scar that would make him forever identifiable.
But feigning to be the messenger of the Pope?That didn’t scare him.
After all, he reasoned, no one in Scotland knew what the Pope’s emissaries looked like.If indeed the Pope evenhadsuch emissaries.
Adam spoke passable Latin, and he could feign a respectable Roman accent.
Besides, he’d played lofty roles before.The French artist Godefroid de Claire.The German Minnesänger Meinloh von Sevelingen.The mystic Hildegard of Bingen.To obtain free lodging, he’d once posed as the right hand man of young King Malcolm himself, while his cousin Brand pretended to be the king.
Adam was confident of his skills.He was a good mimic.He had a forgettable face.And it didn’t hurt that he was the son of spies.No doubt Lady Miriel and Sir Rand had passed on to him their natural talents for stealth and secrecy.
Of course, he’d met King Malcolm before—as himself, Sir Adam la Nuit of Rivenloch.The Rivenlochs were some of the king’s most loyal and valuable vassals.They’d protected Scotland’s southern border for centuries.
But garbed as a monk in holy robes?The king failed to recognize Adam, even in the close quarters of his great hall.
Adam had originally come here on a rescue mission.After his cousin Gellir was abandoned at the altar by his betrothed, the despondent bridegroom had headed to Perth, determined to fight for the king’s honor.Or die trying.
It was that second part that had spurred Adam to follow Gellir.
Adam had worked hard all his life to measure up to the standards of the Rivenloch clan.To be as dedicated as Brand.As fierce as Hew.As magnificent as Gellir.
In the end, he’d had to come to terms with the truth.He would never be as noteworthy or celebrated as his cousins.He would always stand in their shadows.
Eventually he realized the truth.By keeping to the shadows, he could better protect them.His weapon was his anonymity.A weapon he wielded with great skill.
This time he’d used it to keep Gellir from making a foolish sacrifice.
He’d brought along Merraid the maidservant, also disguised as a monk.He knew the lass had feelings for Gellir.Perhaps she’d help persuade Gellir to abandon his self-destructive fight.
Instead, Merraid proved her affections by joining the battle at Gellir’s side.Thankfully, she could hold her own.Trained by Adam’s sister, Feiyan, Merraid had considerable warrior skills.
As it turned out, she also had an impressive gift for words.She managed to scribble out for Adam a diplomatic missive, ostensibly from the Pope, meant to forge peace between the lairds and the king.
And it had worked.
Adam had delivered the message.The king was content.The lairds were mollified.And Gellir was out of danger.
All Adam needed to do now was destroy the evidence and tie up the loose ends.
Passing by a small campfire, he discreetly dropped the scrawled missive into the flames, where it was quickly consumed.
As far as witnesses, Gellir and Merraid were the only ones who could identify Adam.
