A Warrior's Heart Read online

  Brighid nodded. “Then ye ken these men would do naught but lay down their lives for ye.”

  “Who are you? A ghost? A spirit?”

  Brighid looked at Roran. “Is he a wee bit touched?” Before Roran could respond, she reached out and took the king’s hand in hers. “Do I feel like a spirit?”

  “Nae,” Aedan admitted shakily.

  “Then come. Ye could use a wee nip, I’m thinking.” Brighid tugged on his hand, leading the king to the table as if he was a small child. To the amazed stares of Roran and Sean, he let her.

  “Here now. Sip this and tell me why my face fashes ye so. Do ye ken who I am? Mayhap ye ken my kin? I have come te Scamallhaven in the hopes I might find some answers.”

  Aedan finally seemed to return to his senses. He asked them all to sit – insisting that Brighid sit next to him and tell him her story. So she did. She told him of seeing Roran and Sean in Donatirim, of recognizing the crest and her belief that the answers she sought were in Scamallhaven.

  “And how did you recognize the crest?” Aedan asked.

  Brighid looked at Roran, who nodded encouragingly. She reached into her shirt about her neck and pulled out the pendant. Aedan gasped again. “Where did you get that?”

  “I am told ‘twas my mother’s, though I ken naught of her, except that the nuns say I bear a fair resemblance.”

  The king’s brow creased in confusion. “You know not your mother? How can that be?”

  Brighid explained about waking up in the convent when she was but a wee child. Of not remembering anything of her prior circumstances, and how the nuns revealed little. She went on to tell how she had run away, finding the others and travelling with them until they eventually wound up in Donatirim, bringing her tale full circle. By the time she was finished, Aedan had tears in his eyes.

  “Doona shed tears for the likes of me, King Aedan,” Brighid said somberly. “I want no man’s pity. I seek only te find what remains of my people, if anything. ‘Tis why I embarked upon this journey. Tell me, sir, do you ken why my mother might have left me this?”

  “Aye, sweetling,” Aedan said, his eyes softening. “I think I do. You see, I gave your mother that necklace as a gift.”

  It was even better than she had hoped! Brighid had actually found someone who knew her mother on her first day in Scamallhaven, and it was the king himself, no less!

  “Why? Did she do ye a good turn?”

  “No, sweetling. Because she was my daughter.”

  It was Brighid’s turn to grow pale and shaky. “Yer daughter? Ye mean...”

  “Aye, child. I am your grandfather.”

  Darkness swept across her vision, and then she was falling...

  *

  “You cannot run from this, Brighid,” Roran said quietly as he watched her pace back and forth, while Sean and King Aedan waited in the next room.

  She shot him a look so sharp it might have cut diamonds. “Did ye ken, Roran?”

  “Not for certain, no.”

  “But ye suspected. Ye suspected who I was, and ye didnae see fit te tell me, did ye?”

  “I had no proof.”

  “And Sir Sean. He kenned as weel?” Brighid saw his jaw clench, noted the curt, minimal nod of affirmation. “Ye are a right bastard, Sir Roran. Ye could’ve warned me at the verra least.”

  “And say what, exactly? That there was a remote possibility that you were the daughter of a princess that went missing two decades past? A princess who, as far as we knew, never married or carried a child? Simply because you were in possession of a pendant?” He shook his head. “Given the circumstances of your condition and arrival at the convent, it seemed a far more likely explanation that your mother was not the missing princess, and that the pendant came into her hand by other, less honorable means, does it not?”

  Brighid crossed her arms and glared at him. He glared right back. Eventually Brighid let out a great sigh, her shoulders sagging. “Aye. I suppose ye are right. ‘Tis wrong of me te lash out at ye when ye have brought me here.”

  Roran watched her carefully, wanting to pull her into his arms and stroke away all the angst, to make her feel nothing but the comfort he could give her. She would not welcome it at the moment, however.

  “What happens now?” she asked.

  That was the question, wasn’t it? After Brighid fainted, Roran had caught her up in his arms and refused to release her until she woke. It took a bit of fast talking, but thankfully Sean had stepped in and convinced King Aedan that it was in Brighid’s best interests. Brighid knew and trusted Roran, and he was best suited to explain things to her.

  Aedan had already dispatched men to the convent, as well as commanded the presence of any silversmith in the kingdom named McKinnon.

  Roran smiled wryly. “I do not think any doubt remains; we no longer have the luxury of alternate explanations. You are a princess, Brighid. The king’s only living heir. I imagine you will be expected to assume the role and all that goes with it.”

  She scowled, as if he had just told her she would be cleaning garderobes indefinitely. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

  “I think you know what that means.” He tried to keep his tone neutral, his voice even, but Brighid was no fool. She looked at him, her eyes probing for the words he could not bring himself to speak outright.

  “Roran, I...”

  “Hush, now,” he said, putting his finger to her lips. She took her hand in his and kissed his palm. “I wish te stay with ye.”

  Roran withdrew his hand and took a step back. The action felt inherently wrong, but one of them had to be strong. Brighid had already born more weight upon her wee shoulders than anyone should. If he could do naught else, he would be strong for her now.

  “You cannot. There are guards outside, waiting to escort you to your new chambers.”

  “What of my squire’s vow?” she asked, desperate for anything that would give her a reason to stay. “I bear your mark! I took a blood oath!”

  A flash of something undefinable fired across his eyes. “Blood that I had no right to claim.”

  “Right or no’, ‘tis done.” Brighid stubbornly faced him.

  “’Tis now undone. I release you from your vow.” His voice was as cold as the stony expression now on his face, as hard as the stiff posture he had assumed. Within, he felt as if his life force was draining away, leaving him cold and hollow.

  “Ye cannae,” she whispered in horror. “I willnae leave ye.”

  “You must.”

  She looked at him, searching for any sign to indicate doubt or uncertainly, but he would allow none. He kept his face impassive and cold. “Do ye wish me te go? Verily?” she asked softly.

  Roran answered without hesitation, his voice clear and unmistakably firm. “Aye.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “So it’s true,” Lachlan said a week later, using the small knife to cut the apple and toss half to Brighid. “Yer a right princess.”

  Brighid snorted. She had snuck down into the barracks housing Lachlan and the others, slipping in through an open window and waking them. Getting out of her chambers unseen had been a little tricky, but once she’d scaled the castle walls, getting in to see the lads was easy.

  She missed them. Despite their rocky beginnings, they had traveled a great distance and spent much time together. Though everyone insisted she was the king’s granddaughter, these lads felt more like family. So had Roran, and Sean, but they had deserted her. She could only hope the lads would not do the same.

  Thankfully, they were all housed together.

  “Yer not supposed to be here,” Ian said somewhat nervously. Kieran cuffed him in the back of the head.

  “I need yer help,” Brighid said quietly. “They took everything, and I’m in need of some lad’s clothing.”

  Simon fixed her a knowing look. “Yer fixing te flee, then?”

  Brighid nodded. “I doona belong here, no matter what they think.”

  “What does Sir Roran say?” />
  “Sir Roran doesnae speak te me any longer,” she said, unable to completely hide the sadness in her tone.

  “But I thought ye and he were fu-” Ian once again felt a large hand connect with the back of his skull, abruptly ending what he was about to say before he could finish. Brighid flushed.

  “Where will ye go, lass?” Rhys asked.

  Brighid shrugged. “I cannae tell ye that now, can I? ‘Twould make ye accomplices, and would put ye in poor favor with the king and his men.”

  “Weel, it would be good te ken where we’re going. No one likes to travel blind.” The others nodded in agreement.

  “Ye are not going anywhere,” she said firmly. “Ye have oaths, mind ye.”

  “So do ye,” Cameron pointed out, poking her in her upper arm where Roran’s mark still burned. “Or did yer royal brain forget that wee fact? Ye are one of us.”

  “In my heart, ‘tis true,” Brighid agreed with a sigh. “But I am told I can no longer be. Afore he sent me away, Sir Roran told me so.”

  “Bullshite,” Kieran said too loudly, making the others shush him. “Ye still wear the brand, do ye no’?”

  “Oi, he’s right,” Ian nodded emphatically. “And Sir Sean says the bond between Guardsmen is stronger than even blood, for it is a chosen bond.”

  “And,” Cameron said slowly, “’tis the sworn duty of the King’s Guard to protect the royal family, is it no’?”

  “Aye. We have to go with ye,” Simon said with a wide, growing grin, clearly pleased with his logic. “’Tis the honor of our verra souls at stake, Princess.”

  *

  “What are you looking at, Roran?” Sean asked, coming up behind his friend silently. He followed Roran’s intense gaze to the side of the castle, his own eyes widening as he latched on to a small shadow moving stealthily upward until it vanished around a balcony.

  “Damned female is going to get herself killed,” Roran growled.

  “That was Brighid?” Sean said disbelievingly.

  “Aye. She’s been sneaking out every night to see the lads.”

  “Yet you have not reported her.”

  He should, he knew that. It probably wasn’t possible for her to hate him anymore than she already did, but he still could not bring himself to do it. She believed he had abandoned her. She probably also believed that he had taken her to his bed under false pretense as nothing more than a vengeful need to lash back at her for making a fool of him. Nothing could be farther from the truth, but it was for the best. He would rather see her angry than nursing a broken heart, for he now knew firsthand how much that hurt.

  She did not know that he watched over her constantly, unable to go even a few hours without seeing her.

  “I know her heart, Sean, as well as I know my own. She is not adjusting well. She goes to them because she feels she has naught else.”

  “Maybe she would feel differently if you were there to help her.”

  Roran clenched his jaw. “You know that is not possible.”

  Sean exhaled. “Nae, I know no such thing. You branded her, Roran, and not just her skin. The woman is so head over heels in love with you she cannot see straight from it. And it is apparent that you feel the same way about her. The anguish is written all over your face. You do not sleep. You do not eat. You are as cross as I’ve ever seen you.”

  He did love her. God help him, every day without Brighid was an ache in his very soul. Without her smile, her laughter, her touch, he felt as lost as an orphaned pup. It was no proper state for a knight-warrior of the Elite Guard to be in.

  But she was a princess, and he was no royal. He was a knight of humble beginnings, a warrior, away from Scamallhaven more than he was in it. That was not the life of a coveted royal, the lost granddaughter of the king himself. And he could no longer survive a sedentary life at the palace just as a wolf could not be content to live in a cage.

  Sean knew this. The two men had been together far too long not to.

  “Have you spoken with Aedan?” Sean asked quietly. “You are a good man, Roran. Aedan will accept you as a suitor.”

  “She deserves a better life than I can give her, Sean,” Roran said, his voice tight with pain. “What do I have to offer her? A life of travel, of danger, without comforts. Aedan knows this as well as I do.”

  “She seemed happy enough to be by your side,” Sean remarked. “The lass is no more at ease in that castle than you are.”

  “That will change,” Roran argued stubbornly. “She knows no other way, but in time, she will come to appreciate the finer things. A hot bath instead of a cold stream. A warm bed instead of a blanket of leaves over a bed of pine. Fine clothing and plentiful food that she doesn’t have to stitch or catch herself. She will forget what it is like to be cold or tired or hungry. What woman would not wish that?”

  “Your woman,” Sean said firmly before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving Roran glaring after him.

  *

  “I wish you to go to Cavernesse.” King Aedan didn’t look at Roran as he spoke the words in his booming voice. Instead he gazed out over his kingdom from his private balcony, eyes focused on something only he could see, hands clasped behind his back.

  “Sire?” Roran questioned cautiously. Aedan had not spoken to him once since the night he brought Brighid to him. The fact that he had summoned Roran specifically had left the knight with more questions than answers, one of the most important being whether or not Aedan had decided to banish him for stealing the innocence of his only granddaughter.

  Aedan had not directly inquired into the details of their relationship, and Roran had not brought it up. He was quite sure Brighid would not have voluntarily offered the information, nor Sean or the lads; they were a loyal bunch. It was obvious that there was something between him and Brighid, though, someone more than a knight-squire bond.

  Roran wondered if there was a noose in Cavernesse with his name on it. Because of his years of service and devotion, Aedan might spare him the ignominy of a public hanging here in Scamallhaven, and spare his granddaughter the stain of shame Roran had placed upon her, first by branding her, then by defiling her.

  “My finest spymaster has informed me that there is a silversmith there by the name of Gavin McKinnon.”

  Roran’s eyes widened in disbelief. McKinnon! The name of the man that had appeared at the convent, searching for his wife and child. Was it possible they had located Brighid’s father? But if so, why hadn’t Aedan dispatched a squad to bring him to Scamallhaven? Why call for Roran?

  “Because,” Aedan answered Roran’s inquiry with a scowl as he turned around, “this is too important to trust to anyone else.”

  Roran nodded, though he doubted that was Aedan’s only purpose. Perhaps Aedan did not intend to kill him outright, only banish him. He could not let that happen so easily, however. Someone needed to watch over the new princess. Even if he could not have her, he would ensure that she was safe.

  “I know just the man for the task.”

  “Nae, Roran. You will go and see to this personally.” Aedan met his gaze head on. “You owe me this.”

  Roran’s eyes blazed, but he kept his expression neutral. The tension in the air was thick. He had never been so tempted to defy the king, but his worry and concern for Brighid drove him toward a level of desperation with which he was not familiar.

  Thankfully, some small sliver of logic and reason remained. He would do this, if naught else but to provide Brighid with the answers she so desperately needed. Perhaps putting some distance between them might allow him to find some sort of way out of this mess.

  “As you command, Sire.”

  Aedan nodded, then fixed Roran with a poignant look. “Do this for me, Roran, and I will give you my blessing.”

  For the second time in as many months, Roran’s heart stopped. Had the king just said what he thought he’d said? That with the execution of a single task – one which Roran would have taken regardless for Brighid’s benefit - Aedan would allow him
to court Brighid?

  “Sire?”

  “I have already lost a daughter to my arrogance and pride, Roran. I shall not lose my granddaughter as well.”

  “Sire, I -”

  Aedan put up his hand to stop him and offered him a little smile. “Do you think I do not know how you and my granddaughter feel about each other?”

  Well, Roran knew how he felt. Empty. Cold. Devoid of any hope of seeing her smile at him ever again. The last time she had spotted him, he’d felt the full effects of a woman scorned from clear across the Great Hall.

  “She despises me.”

  The king laughed. “Aye, that she does. She is as fierce as her mother and her grandmother before her. But such passion has its roots in great love, Roran. If she did not care for you so much ‘twould not be so. Go, Roran. Obtain the missing pieces of this haunting puzzle, so that we might all put the past behind us and forge a new path together into the future of this kingdom.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Where is your mind lass?” Aedan frowned when he proclaimed his third straight checkmate. “You are usually a worthy opponent.”

  Since Roran’s departure a week earlier, Brighid had grown increasingly distant with each passing day. She rarely left her quarters, and had been sending her meals back untouched. Even Sean seemed unable to lure her out into the gardens, where she had once been eager to sit among the many rare blooms and while away an hour or two. She no longer snuck down to see the lads. Her nightly visits with Aedan seemed to be her only concessions to what had become a self-imposed, solitary confinement.

  “My apologies,” Brighid murmured apologetically. “I amnae feeling weel this eve.”

  Aedan’s frown deepened, as did his concern. “I shall call for the physician at once.”

  Rather than argue as he expected, Brighid simply nodded.

  “She needs rest,” the elder physician told Aedan a short time later. The worried king tucked the thick blankets up to Brighid’s chin; she sighed softly, but otherwise didn’t move. “I gave her a sleeping draught, so she will be out for quite a while.”