Page 34 of Highlander’s Haunted Past

9

“Hurry it up,” the guard called to them, prodding Rob’s back with the wooden end of his spear.

The second guard reached out to shove Kenna forward, but Rob was quicker, grabbing the man by the wrist and pushing his arm back and away from her.

“We’re moving,” he said, sparks of anger erupting between them. “Ye canna make us move faster than this.”

Kenna had been shaking since the men broke down their door, but the tremors were becoming more and more violent as they moved closer and closer to the center of town. Rob wasn’t sure if it was fear or the chill of the night. If she hadn’t still been wearing her shift, just needing to pull it down over her, the guards might have dragged her from the room completely naked. Rob had intervened, arguing with them so that Kenna could lace up her boots and pull her dusty riding cloak over her shoulders before they were forced from the room.

As little time as they had afforded Kenna to dress, they had given Rob even less. A shirt and a kilt were all he managed to put on before they shoved him from the room, and he was fairly certain that he was only granted the shirt because he had gone for it before the kilt. Rob had shoved his feet into the boots left discarded by the door while the guards’ glares were directed at Kenna as she knotted the cloak around her neck, but even after a few minutes of walking, his feet hadn’t worked their way all the way into them, giving his gait a strange wobble as he navigated his way through the streets in the flickering light of the torch.

Queen Mary had taken up residence in a large stone home in what was nearly the very center of town, a home owned by some noble hoping to elicit a bit of favor. Though the rest of the homes on the street were dark, light poured from every window of the Queen’s, accompanied by a steady stream of voices that were each competing for superiority.

Rob cocked his ears, trying to pick up a few of the voices, but the few words he could distinguish gave nothing away.

Kenna ran a few trembling fingers through her curls, smoothing them a bit as the guard knocked on the heavy oak door. One of the Queen’s ladies opened it, looking past the guard to Rob and Kenna with a disapproving raise of her brow, and Kenna quickly pulled the cloak even more tightly around her to conceal the shift.

“Come in,” the maid said with a sigh, spinning on her heels and waiting for them to follow.

Distant voices were coming from deep within the house, but the maid had barely let them in the door before she gestured to a small seating area at the front of the house, filled with plush couches and intricately woven rugs. A couple of ladies were already sitting in the room, gossiping in hushed voices over their cups. They paled when they saw the couple and quickly slipped past them and disappeared into the house’s depths, where only the privileged, it would seem, were allowed entry.

“Sit. The Queen will join ye when she is able.”

Rob gestured for Kenna to sit first before he joined her, absently placing his arm around her while she continued to tremble.

There was only one reason for the Queen to have ripped them from their bed, and with such miserable timing. Something must have happened. Something with the Earl of Huntly and his rebellion. Something that traced straight back to Kenna.

“Kenna,” he whispered, “I need ye to tell me what ye did.”

“What?” Her head snapped up to face him, her trembling suddenly stilled.

“I’ll not say anything to them, I swear it.”

Kenna’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”

He winced. “I canna help if ye don’t tell me—”

“Rise for the Queen,” a guard called.

Queen Mary swept into the room, her usual legion of advisors close behind her. Her hair was pulled back tight, and her woolen dress was covered by a leather doublet that was studded along the seams with bits of polished brass. It was as close to armor as a queen would ever wear.

Rob and Kenna rose and quickly dropped into a formal bow and curtsey.

“Sit. We have so much to discuss,” Queen Mary said, though she continued to pace in front of them.

“Earlier this evening, a group of sentries captured a man attempting to flee the city with this.” The Queen lifted a small piece of folded parchment, the unmarked seal already broken. “‘Tis a letter fer the Earl of Huntly. There are many fascinating details in the letter. I shall summarize them fer ye, Mr. Fraser. Listed were the names of the lairds who have gathered to lend their support to the crown, as well as our current position here in Aberdeen, and a few assumptions about where we shall go next. Finally, there was a beautifully written paragraph, detailing the writer’s enthusiasm for assisting the Earl of Huntly in these matters fer, and now I quote, ‘The bonds of family must never be forgotten.’”

Rob felt all warmth leave his body. He wanted to look at Kenna, look into her blue eyes so he could know whether or not it was true.

“The writer even signed it with a ‘K’.” The Queen scoffed as she tossed the paper down to the floor, where Rob scooped it up and scanned it for himself.

Sure enough, at the bottom of the page was a loopy letter ‘K’. The rest of the information was written as the queen described. Rob felt Kenna’s glance shift to it, and he looked to her. Her expression was stern, unreadable. He was reminded of their wedding feast, of the cold barriers she had pulled around her to keep her and everyone else safely away. But he needed the lass that was hidden inside, the lass with the spirit of a warrior and a wit that could fell any opponent with its sharpness.

Fight back,Rob silently urged. Fight back if ye ken that ye are not responsible.

But Kenna remained silent, her lips pressed together, her eyes slowly leaving the letter to focus on some spot on the wall ahead.

“The word fer these actions,” one of the Queen’s advisors said with an unmistakable bit of glee, “is treason.”