Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

" N ug can explain better than I can," Ula said once outside the room.

"Then we will find him and you both can explain what's going on and how much my wife knows about it?" Quint rushed her down the stairs and into the Great Hall where Nug had just entered. "We talk now!" he shouted at Nug.

The authority in Quint's voice had Nug following Quint without question until the door to the solar closed after they entered the room.

"He knows," Ula said before anyone could speak.

Quint crossed his arms over his chest and waited, his anger mounting at being lied to and that his wife had been part of that lie. It made him wonder what other lies she may have told him.

Having no choice, Nug explained, "We don't know for sure what happened to Chieftain Ryland. One of our warriors insists he is alive, and another swore he saw him fall dead in battle. Caleb was barely alive when we found him. It was only by a miracle that he survived the journey home and that he still lives. He wakes for only short periods of time, and he has yet been able to tell us if he knows what happened to Ryland. I thought it best the clan believed that our chieftain lived to give them hope and strength for whatever fate has in store for us."

"I begged Shade to say nothing to you," Ula said, "and she reluctantly agreed, though she did warn me that we wouldn't be able to keep you out of the bedchamber for long. She also told me she would not outright lie to you."

"So, she lied around the issue instead," Quint said, keeping The Monk's anger at bay as best he could.

"We ask for your understanding," Nug said. "Ula and Shade have been friends since they were young, but you are a stranger to us and not wed long to Shade. We did not know if we could trust you to keep our secret."

"Return to your husband, Ula," Quint ordered. "I will speak with Nug alone."

Ula hurried out of the room, glad to be dismissed.

Quint was getting impatient. "What aren't you telling me, Nug?"

Nug turned away, running his fingers through his hair, then turned back, his face full of frustration. "How do you expect me to trust you when you are a stranger to me?"

That was understandable since Quint would feel the same if he was in Nug's position. So how did he get Nug to trust him? He thought of an easy solution. "Would you trust Shade with this secret?"

"Without a doubt."

"Then that should be answer enough of whether you can trust me or not."

Nug dropped down on one of the benches at the table in the solar. "Shade is wise when it comes to people. I sometimes think she can see deep enough inside a person to know their true nature."

Quint had never given that thought, but if she could see inside the workings of the body, why wouldn't she be able see other things in there as well? If so, what else had she seen inside of him?

"Your word that you will utter nothing of what I tell you?" Nug asked.

"You have my word," Quint said and sat on the bench opposite from Nug.

"I thought Caleb was dead when he was found. I think he believed himself about to die since he hurried to whisper two words to me before he fell unconscious… he lives."

"So, you chose to make everyone believe Ryland lay wounded in his bedchamber so no one would search for him."

Nug nodded. "Aye. I know Ryland well. He would go somewhere to seek help, an army of men, to rescue his clan, maybe to clans in the north."

"Why not nearby clans?"

"Ryland doesn't trust some of the nearby clans. A few foolishly sided with Lord Torrance, thinking their wealth will grow along with Lord Torrance's wealth. But Torrance does not share, he rules. He would have it no other way. He has been like that since he was young and would join me and Ryland to have adventures in the woods. He always had to climb higher in the trees than others, catch the most fish, be the best hunter, the better swordsman, claim the prettiest lass, be the most powerful, the one everyone listened to and obeyed. I was no match for him, but Ryland was and when Ryland bested him, he would fly into a rage refusing to accept defeat. The older we got the worse Torrance got. With his father's death about a year ago, he became ruler of the clan. Many Glencairn clansmen left the clan before the old lord's death, fearful of Torrance's vicious rule. They sought refuge here at Clan MacLeish. Torrance sent warriors immediately after his father died to bring, by force, if necessary, the traitors, as he called them, home. Ryland would not allow it and so the feud between them began. But it had started long before then. It was just the spark Torrance needed to light the fire."

"And that brought about the recent battle," Quint said.

"Aye, but it didn't go as planned. Torrance and Ryland were to meet and talk with only a small contingent of warriors. Ryland didn't trust Torrance and had warriors standing by where they couldn't be seen." Nug sighed, shaking his head. "Torrance arrived with an army and struck without warning. We didn't stand a chance. We lost a lot of good men."

"So, Lord Torrance is a vengeful man."

"The most vengeful I have ever known. His father, Lord Edmund, confessed on his deathbed that he had fathered two sons and a daughter all from different mistresses. He ordered his son to kill his half-brothers so that they would pose no threat to the leadership of the clan, but he was to use his half-sister to benefit the clan by arranging a lucrative marriage. Torrance promised his father that he would and told him that he had just the right man in mind. I suspect he will hunt her down and see her wed immediately." Nug grew quiet.

"There is something that gives you pause," Quint said.

"Aye. Ryland and Torrance could pass for brothers they look so much alike. But the difference was obvious when they spoke. Torrance forever demanded whereas Ryland looked to find reason and solutions. Many believe Torrance and Ryland are half-brothers, Ryland's mother having been close friends with Torrance's father long before she wed Ryland's father, and both men resemble Torrance's da. No one dared say it aloud but there were endless whispers that continue to this day. Another reason for Torrance to hate Ryland."

"Or another reason to be vengeful," Quint said, giving thought to the tentacles of revenge that Shade once spoke of and how they spread and touched innocent people.

"I pray every day that Ryland did manage to survive the battle and that he is somewhere planning a way that he can bring an end to this madness. If not, it will be hell living under Lord Torrance's rule. One day. One day soon, I tell myself that I will receive a message from Ryland telling me that soon it will be over, and peace will prevail."

"You have great confidence in him."

"Ryland is a man of great strength and even greater courage. I have no doubt he can still save our clan even though we lost the battle."

Shade climbed the stairs to her bedchamber, her whole body aching with each step. She paused a moment to lean against the stone wall, her legs feeling as if they could not take another step. She had been on her feet long after others had gone to bed tending to Caleb. He had grown restless in his sleep and had thrashed about, opening the one wound she had stitched. It took time repairing the damage done, then his fever rose, and she had worked with Ula to get it down. Caleb now rested quietly, and all Shade wanted was the comfort of her husband's arms in bed. Unfortunately, she didn't think his arms would welcome her and she was too tired to argue or even discuss anything with him. All she wanted was sleep.

As soon as she entered the room and saw that The Monk waited for her, she knew she would not get to sleep anytime soon. She stood staring at him. He sat in the lone chair, his legs stretched out in front of him and his feet bare. The only thing he wore was his plaid. The strip of plaid that usually fell across his muscled chest hung loosely to the side, leaving his chest bare, except for his muscled arms that lay folded across it. She was relieved his eyes only sparked rather than flared with anger. He had calmed some giving her hope they could talk reasonably. But she had seen for herself that when The Monk wanted answers, he got them.

She spied a jug and two tankards sitting on the small table and went and filled one for herself and took a swallow. The wine was refreshing so she took another swallow.

"Do you need to fortify yourself to talk with me?"

Shade turned. "You would know the answer to that better than me. Do I?"

"I want answers, and I want them now," The Monk demanded, annoyed that he did, seeing how exhausted she was. How could he let himself feel for her when he never felt a bit of remorse when it came to hunting down those responsible for Amara's senseless death?

"As tired as I am and with how much I need to sleep, I need even more to understand why my husband allows The Monk to be so angry with me to the point where I can almost feel his hatred for me. What happened last night that my husband Quint finds it so difficult to return to me?"

Shade went and sat on the bed and removed her shoes and wanted to remove her stockings, but it seemed too much of an intimate gesture in front of The Monk. She pressed the bottoms of her feet on the wood floor to try and ease the aches out of them and a chill raced through her, along with a shiver.

The Monk launched himself out of the chair so forcefully that Shade drew back. He moved the chair in front of the hearth, then went to Shade, grabbed hold of her arm and all but propelled her to the chair, forcing her to sit.

"Warm yourself," he ordered.

Shade kept her smile from surfacing, pleased that The Monk hadn't completely devoured Quint. But then she should have remembered simply by seeing Ula tend to her husband… love held the most power to heal. And love was beginning to break through The Monk's defenses.

"Please, Quint, I miss you terribly. Please tell me what happened that fired The Monk's rage, so we can quell it."

He was eager to talk and even more eager to quell his rage, but he feared what he might discover would enrage him even more. "I met a man who told me who was responsible for Amara's death."

Shade gasped. "Oh, my goodness, That's wonderful, Quint. You will finally have all your answers and will be able to lay this to rest."

The anger that rose in his eyes surprised her and filled her with dread. It grew as he stepped in front of the chair and braced his hands on either side of her, trapping her there as he brought his face close to hers.

"Aren't you going to ask me who it is?" he whispered harshly.

"Who?" Shade asked oddly uncomfortable with him being so close and it grew when he suddenly sneered.

"You, dear wife. It is you."

Her breath locked in her chest at his accusation, and she found herself unable to breathe, she was so stunned. She fought to breathe and the more she did the more she felt as if someone was choking the life from her.

Quint realized she couldn't catch her breath, and he drew back to give her room and ordered, "Breathe!" When she continued to struggle, he grabbed her and forced her to her feet. "Bloody hell, Shade, brEATHE!" Fear gripped him and the only thing he could think of doing was to give her his own breath. He covered her mouth with his.

The shock of his lips on hers had her gasping and her breath released, though they were short rapid breaths, but at least now she was able to breathe.

"Easy, slow," Quint advised and gently lifted her into his arms and went and sat on the bed, placing her on his lap.

His accusation had stolen her breath, but his strength and genuine worry were helping to restore it. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder and let her eyes drift closed, feeling the familiar comfort of his arms. But his accusation had to be faced and addressed.

"I don't understand," she said, her breathing still labored.

"Do not speak until you have regained your full breath," he ordered, sounding far too annoyed, though it wasn't directed at this wife. He was annoyed with himself for causing this ordeal and frightening the hell out of himself.

"Tell me," she urged.

"Only if you promise not to say a word as I do, so your breathing can ease."

Shade nodded.

He took his time explaining so his wife would have time to regain her breath. He started from the time he arrived in the woods to see the MacLeish warriors ready to fight, explaining they would have lost, up until he was left alone with the large man who appeared to lead the small number of warriors.

"The big fellow confirmed that Asher does search for me. Not a word!" he warned when she looked about to speak. "I know you would ask what I did. What does he want with me?"

Shade nodded, anxious to hear all of it and make sense of the unsensible accusation.

"Asher wants to see the mission finished." Quint watched his wife's brow pucker and knew her thoughts since his had been the same. "I asked what mission."

Shade nodded again, though worried when anger flared in his eyes.

"He told me that Asher ordered the men to kill Amara. She was meant to die. She was the target from the start, not me?"

Shade's mouth dropped open in shock and her eyes filled with sorrow for him. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was for him, for Amara, but he hurried to continue talking, and she worried that he didn't want to hear her sympathetic words.

"The mission changed sometime after that. Asher now hunts me though the fellow didn't know why, nor does he know who ordered the mission. I knew by questioning him that he had to be one of the men who took part in Amara's killing. He was the last man I searched for out of the group of men that were there that day."

He turned quiet for a moment and Shade saw that he struggled to continue as if he wasn't sure to reveal more to her.

"Tell me all," she encouraged, resting her hand against his chest and seeing his heart suddenly pumping faster.

"The fellow told me what she said to them. She told them that they would be sorry and that I loved her as much as she loved me and that I would hunt every one of them down and make them all suffer before I ended their worthless lives."

Shade could not stop the tears from gathering in her eyes. "Facing death, she made sure you would hear of her love for you and that she knew how much you loved her. She was a courageous woman."

Quint nodded, trying to clear his mind of what Amara must have gone through. "Bargaining for his life, the fellow offered me information that he was not supposed to hear. He told me who was responsible for Amara's death. I heard him clearly… the healer, Shade." He moved her off his lap, stood, and walked away from her.

He didn't go far but Shade felt like a chasm separated them.

"I don't understand, Quint. I fight to heal people, prevent their deaths." She shook her head. "How could I be responsible when I never met Amara? I never tended to anyone named Amara. I don't know how I could be at fault."

"The fellow was sure of it."

"And are you?" Shade stood and put more distance between them, turning around when she reached the door. "I understand the pain this must have cost you, and my heart aches for you. But I would have thought that you would recall the shock and pain it cost me to learn on my wedding day that I had wed the infamous Monk, and my response to that startling news. I stood by you, accepted you because I had gotten to know you, trusted you, believed in the man I had fallen in love with, and no one could tell me any differently. I thought you knew me that well. I guess I was wrong." She opened the door to leave, and it was slammed shut before it barely moved.

Quint's hand sat braced against the door, and his arm circled her waist and pulled her back against him. Then he pressed his cheek firmly against hers. "You are not going anywhere. We settle this now."

"How is that even possible when you believe me guilty?" she argued.

"Convince me otherwise," he ordered, hoping she could since he did not know how he could ever let her go.

"Believe otherwise," she countered, hurt that he left it for her to prove.

He kept his cheek pressed to hers, her familiar scent stirring his passion for her that never seemed to end. Even now, uncertain of her part in it all, he still desired her. What did that tell him? That he did know her? That he did trust her? That The Monk's hunger for revenge had blinded him to the truth.

There was strength in his voice but no harshness. "The Monk can be…"

"Maddening?" Shade suggested when he seemed at a loss to find an adequate word.

"Relentless," he corrected.

"Which leaves one no time to think wisely," she argued.

His arm tightened around her waist, and he spun her around to face him, catching her against him and having no intentions of doing so but unable to resist, planted his lips on hers in a hungry kiss.

Shade was able to tell the difference right away. The Monk kissed her, and it was a kiss that spoke of fiery passion, of relentless need, and a hint of forgiveness, of what she didn't know. But that she could feel it in him was all that mattered for it was a sign of redemption.

He got her to the bed, his need so great, he didn't bother to strip her of her garments or himself. He tossed her down and yanked her garments up and went down on top of her, pushing his plaid aside. He was hard, so damn hard that his shaft ached.

You will be sorry you did this. He loves me as much as I love him. He will hunt you down every one of you and make you suffer before he ends your worthless lives.

The Monk stopped just before his manhood was about to enter Shade and threw back his head and roared at hearing the sweet voice of Amara so clear in his head that he expected to see her standing there. He hurried off Shade and went to pace in front of the hearth, cursing himself.

Shade pushed her garments down and swung her legs off the bed to sit there watching her husband pace frantically. Amara trusted him to avenge her death and until that was settled, he wasn't truly free to love Shade, to speak the words, to rid himself of the guilt, to love with all his heart.

She stood.

The Monk stopped abruptly, shoving his hand out in front of him. "Don't come near me!"

Shade dropped to sit on the bed. "Tell me about Amara."

"Why?" he snapped.

"Because perhaps I knew her by a different name, perhaps she came to me for help and in some odd way, my help or lack of it was responsible for her death."