Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,32
mercy, even if ye rid yerself of me and throw open the gates to him.” His gaze narrowed. “Ye have managed Dunnottar well since David’s death, My Lady … and showed courage today … but ye would do well to leave matters of war to yer menfolk.”
Draco watched the interaction between the Lady of Dunnottar and William Wallace with interest.
His leader’s last words had angered her. She raised her chin, her heart-shaped face tensing, while those blue eyes turned hard.
Mithras strike him down. She was a sight to behold.
Few men would have the guts to hold the Wallace’s eye so boldly—the man wore a belt, scabbard, and baldrick made of another man’s skin for pity’s sake. Even Draco minded him when he was in a temper.
Yet the lady stared back at the freedom fighter with ire smoldering in her gaze.
Long moments passed before Gavina finally spoke. “Ye are right, William … I know little of war.” Her tone was clipped, and a nerve flickered under one eye. The fingers wrapped around her goblet clenched. “But nonetheless, I do know of its consequences, and I will do all I can to prevent a massacre here.”
Wallace stared back at her, his heavy features softening a little. “Sometimes bloodshed is the only way forward, My Lady,” he rumbled. “Please let me do what I’m best at. Captain Gaius and I are ready to the lead the defense of Dunnottar. If Longshanks wants a fight, let’s give him one.”
Gavina’s pale throat bobbed, before she gave a slight, barely-perceptible nod. She turned her attention to Cassian then, their gazes meeting. “Very well,” she said, her voice strained now. “I can see it is no use. I hand the defense over to ye then, Captain.”
Curse men and their bull-headed ways. If women ruled this land, there would be far fewer wars and feuds.
Gavina crossed to the sideboard and poured herself a cup of sloe wine. She noted that her hands were shaking and muttered a curse under her breath. Her parley with Edward and debate with the Wallace had unnerved her more than she’d realized.
She wasn’t much of a drinker—not like her late husband, who’d imbibed a jug of wine most evenings. But this evening was different.
Gavina crossed to the window seat and sat down. The wooden shutters were closed, for it was a cool evening outdoors. The wind had died with the dusk, and a dank sea mist had crept in. Not only that, but with the shutters open, she could hear the shouts of men and the rumble of activity throughout the keep as it readied itself for the coming battle.
Tomorrow, Longshanks would attack—and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.
Taking a large gulp of wine, Gavina’s thoughts returned to the words she’d exchanged with Edward beneath the keep. He was ruthless and stubborn. Her only hope had been that William Wallace would agree to leave. But she should have known he wouldn’t. The man was a proud Scot, the bravest freedom fighter this land had ever known. He’d never run from a fight.
All the same, his refusal had frustrated her.
He was of the opinion that Edward of England was devoid of mercy, but Gavina disagreed. The English king was a man of keen intelligence. If she’d been able to prove that the Wallace didn’t shelter within Dunnottar, he might have spared them all.
But now we’ll never know.
Gavina had just taken another gulp of wine, and was mulling over her exchange with Wallace and the others, when a soft knock sounded on the door to her solar.
Gavina sighed; she’d hoped for a little more time alone. However, it was clearly not to be—not on the eve before battle. Drawing in a deep breath, she called out, “Who is it?”
“It’s me … My Lady,” Aila called back. “Are ye ready to be undressed for bed?”
Of course, Aila always attended her at this hour. With everything that had happened, she’d lost track of time.
“Not yet,” Gavina replied. “But come in anyway.”
The door creaked open, and an elegant woman clad in dove-grey, her thick brown hair pulled back from her face, entered. Aila had changed so much since she and Cassian had wed, Gavina reflected. She’d always been a pretty lass before, but now she possessed a serene beauty that Gavina envied.
Ever since their marriage, Aila usually wore a wide smile. She was blissfully happy with Cassian, Gavina knew it. But this evening, her winsome face was tense, her grey eyes troubled.