Page 74 of Highland Storm

His blue eyes were sharp and wary, but held a spark of recognition. “Lianae of Moray,” he said, clasping her hand. “Welcome, m’lady,” he said, his eyes brimming with tears. “Welcome!”

Built upon the ruins of an old Roman fortress, the city of Carlisle was a strategic stronghold for Scotland. William Rufus raised it, but David intended to keep it and make it Scotia’s southernmost capital. Understandable that he should wish to, for even when the countries were not at war, the Border Reivers were a pain in David’s arse. Controlling them, even more than controlling the new cathedral, was his ultimate design.

Three thousand men marched on the city at sunrise, and ill prepared for siege, the gates opened swiftly. There, in the name of the Empress Matilda, David mac Mhaoil Chaluim sent splinter troops to seize Wark, Alnwick, Norham and Newcastle. MacKinnon would descend upon Aldergh within the fortnight. Only once Carlisle was secure, David took Keane aside, and gave him the news about Lianae. The words he spoke sent cold shivers down his spine.

Bolting out of the king’s court, leaving a sour-faced sovereign in his wake, Keane told Cameron on his way to the stables, “We ride for Moray now!”

“With David’s blessing?”

Keane shot Cameron a quelling glance. “I go with or without it!” God’s truth, if they had told him what Lianae would discover at Dunràth, he would never have let her go alone.

With all due haste, Keane gathered the men he’d been promised—only seven. Forty more would follow once David could spare them. The rest awaited him at Dunràth—all under Lianae’s command!

Angrily, he secured his saddle, while Cameron watched. “What if she has found them?”

“I canna say what Lianae will do, but you knew—you knew, damn it. And yet ye dinna say—why?”

“I will break no more oaths,” Cameron said simply.

Despite Keane’s fury, both men understood what it meant for Cameron to keep his vows. He struggled now to live a life of honor, in order to redeem himself in the eyes of the world—in the eyes of Aidan and his sister most of all.

But this was the one thing Cameron had yet to learn: If you were not fighting for the ones you loved, who the devil would you be fighting for?

“Damn you,” Keane said, and turned on his heels. “Stay and fight for your king,” he commanded him.

“I will come⁠—”

“Nay!” Keane shouted. “I’llna ride with a man whose loyalty I must question.” In one easy leap, he mounted Beithir. To his men, he commanded, “Ride!”

Even if he rode day and night, without rest, it would take them a sennight to reach Moray at best.

He didn’t care whether Cameron joined them. Furious beyond reason, Keane led his men through Carlisle’s open gates. Once the last man had passed over the bridge, he heard the groan of metal as the portcullis lowered. He did not look back.

The dún Scoti sisters remained at Dunràth only a few days—long enough to see their horses rested and procure a few nights’ rest. But they did not go before Lianae escorted them down to the beach and let them touch their toes in the ice-cold surf. She cajoled them to return in summer, when they would enjoy the warmer weather. Lael spoke of bringing her daughters and mayhap sending Kenna along. “It’ll do her good to get away from Keppenach,” Lael said.

Lianae couldn’t be happier to hear this. She felt more at ease than she had in years. In fact, she had little to complain about, save for the sudden bouts of sickness she couldn’t quite explain. It was Cailin who asked before she left, “Might you be with child, Lianae?”

The possibility hadn’t even occurred to her. Despite her lies to the king about Keane, Lianae hadn’t truly considered how quickly it might happen. She and Keane had spent nearly every waking moment in Dubhtolargg… getting to know one another. So it was certainly a possibility, and the notion pleased her.

A child?

With Keane.

How different her life would be. As close as they were, she wasn’t even concerned about the possibility of seeing Lulach again, or William fitz Duncan, for she had the king’s writ in her possession and a prince of Scotia at her side. Not that she had ever aspired to such things, for Fitz Duncan was a king’s son, after all. But Keane dún Scoti—even as modest a man as he was—was worth ten of fitz Duncan.

In fact, she had little doubt that if Keane’s brother had not lost Clach-na-cinneamhain—and she was quite certain now that’s what it was, the Stone of Destiny—the dún Scoti might have wreaked havoc with this knowledge alone. If what she suspected were true, King David was never crowned upon the rightful stone. Therefore, his coronation would not be sacrosanct. If anyone should glean this knowledge, Lianae had very little doubt there would be a race to the vale to recover the true stone and crown a new king. And, for that, there might be any number of contenders, all with more right to succession than David mac Mhaoil Chaluim, including William fitz Duncan, Aidan dún Scoti and her brother Graeme.

On the day the sisters departed Dunràth, Lianae was sorely tempted to ask them about the stone, and about the accident that blinded Constance, but despite that they had grown closer along the way, there was a way about the dún Scoti sisters that discouraged any such questions. For all that they’d seemed like normal siblings, with sweet, freshly washed faces, they clearly were not.

All three hugged Lianae before mounting their white horses, and even before they had returned to the saddle, their looks were stern and backs were straight. Once again they were bedecked for war.

“You!” Lael said to Lianae’s steward. The elder man looked terrified all at once. “Take care of your lady,” she demanded from her saddle, and the old man nodded quickly.

Smiling to herself, Lianae crossed her arms, battling yet another wave of nausea. Forsooth, it must be exactly what Cailin said. A child. The very thought made Lianae’s heart hurt. A child, but what if his father never returned? She had not seen Keane now for weeks, but she had the king’s writ, she reminded herself. And she had Balloch, the old steward.

But she would not think this way. There was much to be done before her husband’s return: take stock of their supplies, and find out how much remained before the spring planting. She must wash the hallhouse from top to bottom, give it the love of a home. There were grievances to hear, and bread to bake. She had heads to count and animals to see to. And most of all, she had a nursery to shape.

The old steward would help her, but out of everyone, she believed he would be most pleased to see the dún Scoti sisters go. For all that the man appeared to be her greatest ally at Dunràth, he was as timid as a church mouse.