One of her companions jumped down from his horse. “Please pardon Besseta. We’re all worried about our mistress. We seek Emmalin MacLintock, daughter of the former laird of MacLintock Castle. We have come to warn her. I am one of her guards and she is her personal maid. The English whoresons who attacked the castle are heading this way. Someone there saw your plaid and told them. We fear for her life.”
Alasdair stared at the man, doing his best to imitate his grandsire’s intimidating glare. He waited for further information, needing to know they were who they claimed to be.
Besseta joined the guard and clasped his shoulder. “We pushed her into the tunnel. I closed the door behind her. She never would have gotten away if not for the tunnel.”
Alasdair nodded, although he was not yet ready to let them in. “Go find our guest,” he said to one of the guards. “Bring her to the steps and see if she knows these people.”
The man disappeared, and the next time the door opened, Emmalin stepped outside with a squeal. Running despite her heavy skirts, she launched herself at the older woman. “Bessie!” The maid was so thin Alasdair feared Emmalin might knock her over.
He cleared his throat and said, “If you know and trust them, invite them in, Emmalin.”
“Aye, my manners. Forgive me. Alasdair, this is my dear maid, Besseta. She has been with me forever. And these are two MacLintock guards.” She quickly turned her attention backto her Bessie. “What about the others? Gaufried and his men? Tamsin, Aunt Penne?”
“We have not seen or heard anything about Tamsin or Penne. Many villagers disappeared, mayhap they did, also,” one man said. “They ran. Gaufried went on the attack and there was a battle, but his body was never found. I hope he got away.”
Aunt Kyla emerged from the other side of the gate and offered an official welcome. “We welcome you to Grant Castle. Please come inside for a brief repast. You can tell Emmalin all that has transpired, and my sire would also like to hear your account.”
Once inside, they settled around the trestle table where Alasdair’s grandsire sat in his large chair. The others piled onto the bench. Alasdair made the introductions, then said, “Please tell us what else happened. Why have you come? You seem upset.”
“I am,” Besseta said, patting Emmalin’s hand. “Though I feel much better now that I’ve seen you with my own eyes. I was so worried. Forgive me for sitting with you, my lord. I am but a lady’s maid. I will take my proper place if you’ll guide me to one of your maids. I had to see her with my own eyes. I promised her dear mother…” She stopped to mop her eyes with a well-used linen square.
Alex leaned forward and said, “My wife’s maid was her finest protector, my lady. You’ll stay where you are as you have earned the right to be by Emmalin’s side. I knew her sire well, and he would not have had his daughter in your care if he did not trust you implicitly.
She nodded and took a sip from the goblet of mead she’d been served.
“Go ahead,” Alasdair said, tired of waiting. He admonished himself to do better about learning his grandsire’s art ofpatience. Although, as Alex himself had reminded him, it was the work of a lifetime, not a day.
“The man leading the garrison was named Sheriff de Savage. He came for you. A baron hired him to lead the men to your castle and overtake it. Once it was done, the baron was to bring you to Berwick.”
“But I would have to agree to go with him, and I never would.”
“They have their ways,” his grandsire said. “Which baron?”
Besseta shook her head. “We don’t know, but as we said, they know you are at Grant Castle. We came upon another group of warriors headed in this direction. They asked if we knew of your whereabouts. Said we were to instruct you to go immediately to King Edward’s castle in Berwick.”
“You did not tell them anything, did you?” Alasdair asked.
“They would never give me up,” Emmalin responded at once. “They are the most loyal in our clan.”
Alex nodded. “I believe you. Did you hear any names?”
“Just de Fry. I’ve never met him before.”
At this, the wise old man sighed. “Both de Savage and de Fry are Scottish sheriffs, but they’re being bribed by different barons. Of that much I’m certain. Many of the sheriffs are easily brought to task with a bit of coin. But we don’t know which barons are in play.”
They all paused while the serving lasses brought more food for the travelers. Alasdair wondered if this would change their plan at all.
They didn’t need to wait to find out.
“Emmalin, pack your things,” his grandfather said. “I will meet with the cousins in my solar while she packs, since they will be your escorts to Berwick.”
“You’re sending me to marry the baron the king chooses for me?” Emmalin asked, her voice tight.
“Nay, I’m sending you and my grandbairns to speak with King Edward. They will gain your freedom, if they can. But it’s most important that you are protected from the rampant barons searching for you. They know you’re here. It’s best for you to leave.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alex talks about life and death and love. This scene is one of my favorites,
