Highland Warlord - Amy Jarecki Page 0,74
life, exactly?”
Ailish leaned forward. “I would not think Alfred would reveal your confidences.”
“Perhaps he did not, but the Lord Warden was giving coin to anyone who gave them information—especially newcomers. Yesterday, a mob of the scoundrels was waiting for me in the alehouse.”
“Did anyone follow you here?”
“They beat me until I decided to play dead, then the blackguards tossed my body into a bog.” Torquil grinned—his cocksure smile returning. “No one kent I left.”
“Then I doubt they’ll search for us here,” said Davy “We’re far enough off the beaten path. Mayhap sixty miles from Lochmaben. Dumfries as well.”
“We may be safe for now, but what of my brother?” asked Ailish, her insides twisted tighter than ever. “The Lord Warden kens I’m looking for him. He’ll retaliate, mark me.”
Davy covered a cough with his hand. “I say we remain here until James regains his wits.”
“Can we not send a scout to Lochmaben?” Ailish asked. “Surely there is someone in the camp from Annandale. ’Tis no secret that Edward is building his grand fortress there on the Bruce’s lands.”
“She has a valid point,” said Torquil quite surprisingly.
“I do.” Ailish pushed to her feet and thrust her fists onto her hips. She was a lady, the daughter of an earl, and she would be obeyed. “As far as we are aware, no one is searching for Caelan. Have him make haste to Selkirk Forest and find a man who hails from Annandale. See what he can uncover about my brother. And I want him to report back here in a sennight. James will be fit and ready to fight by then, mark me.”
Not waiting for anyone to voice opposition, she headed for James’ cell, praying for his swift recovery.
***
Coming awake, the fog in James’ mind was thicker than the mist hovering on the Saint Andrews shore after a midwinter’s storm. The last clear thought he’d had was when riding toward Fail Monastery. Above him hung an iron cross, an indication they had arrived at their destination, though he had no recollection of it.
When he shifted his hand to his brow, someone moved.
“Are you awake?”
Ah yes, he recognized her angelic voice.
Slowly, James shifted his gaze to Ailish. Though weariness was etched upon the smooth mantle of her face, she was still the bonniest creature he had ever seen. “A man could grow accustomed to waking to such beauty,” he said, his voice gravelly as if he hadn’t used it in days.
A bit of color sprang in her cheeks while she leaned over and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “The fever has broken.”
Now he remembered. A bit, anyway. He’d been abed for some time. And she had remained by his side through it all, spooning water and tea into his mouth. But what he remembered most of all was how soothing her voice had been as was her touch.
By the grace of God, she would make a fine wife.
For someone.
“What are you thinking?”
“I was wondering how long I’ve been abed,” he fibbed.
She daintily blew her nose into a kerchief. “Three days.”
“Are you ill?”
“We’ve all had a bit of a sniffle, but I think we’re through the worst of it now.”
He took her hand and drew it to his lips. Closing his eyes, he thanked the stars for this woman’s selflessness. “You weren’t feeling well, yet you remained by my side.”
“I would be nowhere else.”
“Has Torquil returned?”
“Aye with news. Evidently Uncle Herbert took Harris to Lochmaben.”
James sat up, the motion making his head swim. “Unbelievable. He’s been right under our noses all this time?”
“I had Caelan ride to Selkirk to find someone from Annandale who would not be suspected if he returned home.”
“Smart lass.” James reached for a cup of water and drank. “When do you expect them to report back?”
“A few days. Hopefully long enough for you to regain your strength.”
He held the cup aloft. “Bring me something stronger than this and a plate of food, and I’ll be back to myself by the day’s end.”
She snatched it out of his hand and planted a wee kiss on his forehead. “I’ll believe that when I see you spar like the devil.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
It wasn’t exactly the day’s end, but the following morn James marched into the sheep’s paddock and found a solid oak fencepost standing like a lone Pictish stone. He walked around it, testing the wood for stability.
This will do.
Glancing toward the grounds, he spotted a few monks going about their chores, but none of his men were in sight. Nor