Her announcement made this business between the king and Fergus even more pressing.A summer tournament meant the whole Rivenloch clan would be coming to Darragh.If war began at Galloway, they would be the nearest warriors at hand, the first to engage in the fighting.
He had intended to stay longer at Darragh, but with this greater urgency, haste was imperative.
If Fergus had installed spies among the king’s men, it was necessary for Adam to be the eyes and ears of the king in Fergus’s army.
To infiltrate Fergus’s ranks, Adam needed to appear nondescript, ordinary, a simple man-at-arms.He knew a fine warhorse would make him too noticeable.The Fergus holding of Kenmure was two or three days away on foot.So as much as he’d disappoint his sister, he’d have to bid her farewell on the morrow.
Adam couldn’t afford to risk having anyone in the Fergus clan recognize him.So from the Darragh armory, he chose discarded armor—battle-scarred plate, mail that was missing a few rivets, a dented helm, a splintery spear, and a sword that had seen better days.Things no self-respecting Rivenloch knight would own.
Feiyan naturally thought her brother was a clodbrain for taking such inferior gear.
He also needed a disguise that would be easy to maintain, yet make him difficult to identify.
Normally he didn’t like to make long-lasting changes to his appearance.It made him less flexible in a crisis.But this was a serious mission with a serious purpose.He might need to inhabit this character for a month or more.
So as soon as he left Darragh, he used his dagger to cut his long hair short.
Over several weeks, the thick stubble of his jaw would grow into a proper beard.
Once he drew near to Fergus’s holdings in Galloway, he took his time, loitering at inns and alehouses along the way, picking up bits of conversation and casually inquiring about work.
He wasn’t disappointed.It seemed Fergushadbeen sending raiders out to trouble the neighboring clans.The activity had escalated in the last several weeks.Most of the clans were recruiting men to guard their towns and herds against attack.
But they weren’t the only ones.
When Adam crossed into Galloway and arrived at the keep at Kenmure, it was clear Fergus was building his clan forces as well.
Joining the ranks of Fergus’s men-at-arms at Kenmure was easy.His captain was eager to enlist the services of dark-bearded, short-haired Ness MacNeill, a man-at-arms who had all his own equipment, even if it was rusty and dented.
As for learning the laird’s ambitions, Adam didn’t need to bother becoming a trusted confidante.Fergus was open and boastful about his plans.He regularly visited the armory to discuss strategies with the captain.It was clear he meant to expand his already sizable holding.
Adam wondered if that was the real reason the king wanted to put a stop to Fergus.If the Laird of Galloway hoped to enrich himself with more and more property, he could eventually become a threat to the Crown.
A go-between could play a key role in alerting the king to Fergus’s plans.It would require stealth and deception.But those were two of Adam’s most valuable assets.
Eve sighed as she poked the final row of peas into the soil of the convent garden.
Ordinarily, she loved being outdoors in the warm spring sunlight.She liked tending to the crops while her sisters toiled nearby in the orchard.She enjoyed the sensation of damp earth crumbling between her fingers.Appreciated the small miracle of creating new food from a single seed.
But she hadn’t been happy for weeks.
The abbess had asked no questions upon Eve’s return.Eve considered this a mercy, for she was certain her sin was written across her forehead.A sin that seemed even more reprehensible in the peaceful, pious halls of the convent.
She’d wept and prayed.
She’d fasted and taken a vow of silence.
She’d isolated in her cell and foregone the pleasure of bathing.
But none of her acts of penance had brought her relief or forgiveness.
Was this how the rest of her life would be?Nothing but pain and guilt?Longing and shame?
Part of her felt she deserved it.At least shehada life, which was more than God had given poor, wee Nael.Perhaps she should accept a lifetime of sorrow with grace and dignity.
Worse, no matter how vehemently she prayed, how much she hungered, how many tears she shed, she couldn’t stop the dreams that plagued her in her sleeping hours.
She dreamed ofhim.Of the gallant, generous, exciting man who had swept her off her feet and fed her a sweet feast of forbidden delights from his loving hands.Again and again she dreamed of what they’d done.
