Highland Warlord - Amy Jarecki Page 0,32
all, Ailish and her family had received sanctuary with his blessing. Turning, Ailish casually clasped her hands behind her back and examined the map of Southern Scotland on the prioress’ wall. It marked all the holy abbeys and priories. Interestingly, just near Jedburgh Abby was Selkirk Forest, and in two blinks, she had the journey memorized. “I also must take word to Sir James.”
“Hmm.” The prioress picked up her quill and smoothed her hand over a piece of vellum. “Perhaps we ought to send him a missive as well.”
Ailish took a step toward the table. “What if I carried the letter to him?”
The woman glanced up with a dour frown. “The ordeal in the nave must have addled your mind, child.” She dipped the quill into her ink pot. “Oh, no. It has become far too dangerous for you to step outside these walls.”
“With all due respect, the priory’s walls have already been breached. Moreover, if my uncle wanted to do me harm, he’d have taken me with him.”
“Nay, the kingdom is again in turmoil. Surely you heard the man. He said Sir James Douglas burned his own keep. I cannot allow you to leave the priory again. Not only is it too dangerous, your reputation would be ruined if you sought him out. Think of how your actions might reflect on your siblings.”
“You are concerned with my reputation? What of Harris? He’s merely a child and has just been abducted from the only home he’s ever known.”
“God will prevail.” The prioress dipped her quill. “But hear me now, if you leave our walls, you will not be welcomed back.”
Ailish’s face grew hot while the nun scribed a salutation. Yes, she had been a burden to the nuns for the past six years but, prior to that, her father had been a benefactor to the priory. He’d paid them ten times over the cost of her maintenance. “After my father’s generosity, I do not understand why—”
The mother pointed the feather of the quill between Ailish’s eyes. “I agreed to let you dress as a nun and travel to Scone to claim your brother’s rights as earl, but now things have changed for the worse. Soldiers broke into our house of prayer.”
“And took my brother.”
“And you believe a man who would raze his own keep is your answer to rescuing Harris from your uncle’s army? Your ideas are substantially flawed. ’Tis nothing short of madness, and if you leave these walls, you will put the order in further peril.”
Ailish pursed her lips. She’d known the prioress long enough not to pursue the argument. Doing so could see her locked in her cell for a sennight. “Very well. We shall send a missive…with haste.”
***
Plague take it, Ailish didn’t give a hoot about her reputation. Her brother had been abducted by the vilest man to whom she had the displeasure of being related. Harris must be terrified out of his wits, the poor lad.
Aside from Robert the Bruce who, as far as she knew, was in hiding somewhere in the Highlands, the only person who might help was Sir James. True, she could send the knight a missive, but who knew how long the letter would take to reach him…if it did at all?
Well, if she’d learned anything from her father’s demise, it was to take charge, not to idly sit by and pray for something good to happen. Despite the prioress’ intentions, good things never happened on their own no matter how much one prayed.
By the saints, leaving and not being allowed to return hurt deeply. Had she posed such a burden over the years to warrant the woman’s ire? How could she remain behind the priory’s walls while Harris suffered?
I cannot.
After Florrie fell asleep, Ailish slid a dagger up her sleeve and one in her boot. As she pulled the nun’s habit over her gown, she looked fondly at her sister, sleeping on her side with her mouth open. She hated to leave the lass alone, but she’d be far safer with the nuns and Coira would see to her care. Ailish set a note on her bed and donned her cloak. Barely making a sound, she slipped out of the dormer and through the postern gates. She tiptoed to the stables where the mule and the horse from the Cunninghams were silent in their stalls.
By the moon’s light, Ailish found a bridle and saddle, then clucked to the gelding. “Hey, laddie. Are ye up for a wee ride?”
The horse nickered