The Betrayal - By Ruth Langan Page 0,41

news of Ranald’s death, she donned the headdress and veil, and has worn it ever since. She lives a cloistered existence, leaving the fortress only to walk the gardens, where she prays. She has not once visited the village of Duncrune since the day the bodies of her brother and Ranald were brought home for burial. Each day she visits their tombs in the catacombs which lie beneath the chapel. She has said that her life without Ranald must be spent in prayer for his eternal soul.”

Kylia found herself moved to pity the woman who bore such grief alone. Now she was more convinced than ever that she must share the contents of her dream with Hazlet, in order to ease her pain.

Outside the doors of the great hall, the young servant paused and focused once more on the wolf pup in her arms.

In a low voice she whispered, “You’d be wise not to offend the lady Hazlet. For she wields great power.”

“Aye. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Ardis.” Kylia paused, then with a sigh, handed over her bundle. “You’re right, of course. See that he’s given a few small morsels of meat and a bit of water, and is confined to my chambers until I return.”

“Aye, my lady.” Relieved, Ardis took the pup from her hands and scurried away, as though eager to escape.

Kylia stepped inside the hall and was surprised at the number of men and ladies milling about, while servants threaded their way among the throngs, offering goblets of wine and ale. It would seem that the entire village and the surrounding hamlets must be empty of citizens this night. Again, Kylia thought, it was proof of how much the people loved their lord and wished to celebrate his safe return.

The minute Grant spotted Kylia he excused himself from those around him and hurried to her side.

His smile deepened. What a pretty picture she made, in the simple white gown and shawl, with her hair falling in soft waves to her waist. Just the sight of her had his heart growing lighter.

“My lady.” He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Were you able to rest?”

“Aye. And you?”

He shook his head. “I’d hoped to come to you in your chambers.” In truth, he’d wanted desperately to be alone with her for just a few moments. He sighed. “But there was no time. There was much to discuss with my brother and aunt, before meeting with the Council.”

Kylia thought she detected a flicker of weariness in his eyes, but before she could offer a word of comfort she found herself immediately surrounded by curious onlookers.

Grant called for silence before saying, “May I present the lady Kylia, of the clan Drummond.” The note of affection in his voice had many in the crowd straining to see this mysterious stranger.

A tall, dark-haired warrior stepped forward. “I am Culver, cousin to Hazlet. My mother and hers were first cousins.”

“Culver.” Kylia smiled as he took her hand in his.

He lifted it to his lips. “My cousin tells me you are from the Mystical Kingdom.”

“Aye. That is my home.”

He seemed surprised by her easy acknowledgment. “It’s true then, that you are a witch?”

Many in the crowd gasped at his utterance. Though many had whispered about her behind their hands, none would have dared speak the word aloud.

Before she could respond, a red-bearded giant pushed his way toward her and caught her hand in his, lifting it to his lips. “The clan Drummond, you say?” His booming voice carried clearly over the other voices in the room. “’Tis an ancient, noble clan indeed, with a proud heritage.”

Kylia gave him a grateful smile. “I know not your name, sir.”

“Lord Giles MacCallum. Though our land lies on the far banks of the loch, we have fought side by side with our cousins since the days of Stirling MacCallum, to keep our Highlands free of barbarians.”

“You knew the lord’s father?”

“Aye. And his friend, Ranald.”

At the mention of that name, Hazlet crossed herself and turned away, causing many in the room to pity her.

“It’s time we partook of the feast prepared by Mistress Gunn and our cook, Mester. Come, my lady.” Grant offered his arm and Kylia placed a hand on his sleeve. He turned to the older man. “Giles, you’ll join us at table?”

“Aye, my friend. I’d like nothing better than to get to know this lovely lady better.” The old warrior offered his arm to Hazlet. “Will you do me the honor,