Chapter Nineteen

"Now hold out your hands—aye, one atop the other," the abbot directed.

With their simple promises said, Liam took a breath and faced Tamsin, gently stacking her hands with his. "The woman's right hand cups under the man's hand to pledge support. The man's left hand cups over hers to pledge protection," his uncle explained. "Now let this cloth bind you."

He held up a long, narrow woolen cloth, a blue and green tartan weave, handsome and strong. Looping it around their hands, he circled once, twice, thrice, then tied the long ends together in three loose knots. "A knot for her love, a knot for his, a third knot for joined love of children and others. These knots," he continued, "bind William and Thomasina together by the power of their vows."

The abbot hovered a hand above theirs. "What was two is now one, in love, loyalty, forgiveness, and devotion always, in all ways. God above and below, God before and behind, bless this union."

Liam drew a breath—this was happening so fast. Leaning forward, he kissed Tamsin lightly, and she returned it. Her gaze on his was dove gray, satiny and deep, and he smiled. He would never let her down. Never.

"Now pull apart slowly. The knots will keep." Abbot Murdoch handed the knotted fabric to Tamsin. "Handfasted, as you wished."

"For a year and a day," she said.

"For as long as you both want. I will post the banns of marriage on the door of our chapel here, and in the next village, so it will be seen."

"It must be seen," Liam said. Word must spread to Dalrinnie's gates, he thought. Clasping Tamsin's hand, he looked toward his brothers and cousin, who stood watching, smiling, Roc between them. Dawn broke pink and gold beyond the window of the abbot's house, and the fire in the hearth snapped and brightened. In that instant, he felt good. Hopeful. But he could not stay. "My lady, I must ride out soon."

"Where? You have not said."

"Come here," Liam drew her a little away from the others. When he and Tamsin had visited his uncle just after the prime bells with their decision, the abbot had been ready. In a whirlwind, it seemed, they were handfasted. He suspected his reverend uncle purposely gave them no time to think.

He led her to a corner near the hearth while his kinsmen poured out morning ale, laughing and celebrating. They had all wanted this, Liam realized, smiling a little. Well, it was done.

Now for the honesty he had just pledged to her. "We are ordered to Thornhill to bring your cousin and her father out and take them to refuge."

"On whose order?" she asked quickly. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes.

"Bruce," he murmured. "He sent the message to my uncle and named my kinsmen and I to the task."

Relief and understanding dawned in her gray eyes. "So that is the way of it for you and yours."

"It is." He gave it the space of a heartbeat, two, as she took it in. Then she nodded, and a little smile crossed her lips. "Thornhill could be lost if the English go up that way," he continued. "Sir Hugh Douglas may see it through, but Bruce wants Lady Kirsten removed. He wants other noblewomen of Scotland closely guarded too, including you and your sisters. As for you," he said, setting a hand upon the wall as he leaned toward her, "I ask that you wait here until I return."

"Where would I go?" she asked, but her lips quirked—luscious in firelight and so delicious in memory that his body responded, subtle and quick. Her gaze flew to his lips as if she, too, felt it, and she blushed.

Liam took her hand again. "I know you want to go to Selkirk. And I fear you will not wait for me, but try to go on your own despite the danger."

"That was my plan before I met you. We have been here too long." She bristled. "In a handfasting, there is no promise to obey."

"Nor do I ever expect it. But wait for me, do," he said, thumb caressing her hand.

She gasped set her free hand to her heart. "Liam, what if—some ill befalls you? How would I know?"

"You of all people would know, I think." Leaning down, he murmured in her ear, "I will come back and sing to you. Promise me you will wait, lass."

"I want to wait and yet need to go. I feel as if you have put a glamourie over me with your voice. Your touch." Her eyes sparkled, lips quirked.

"You are the one put a glamourie over me, love, kin of the Rhymer as you are. I only ask that you wait a few days, aye?"

"I must reach the bookseller soon." He heard the pleading in her voice. "Malise knows the book may be there. Not many in this region do that sort of work, so he could find the man before I do."

He sighed. "If I am not back in three days, I will ask Gideon to take you."

"Hurry, do. I need to hear your voice again," she whispered.

He began to hum then, a half-forgotten melody that came to him suddenly, and then sang softly. "A lady brisk and bold came riding o'er the ferny brae—"

Her skirt was of the grass-green silk, her mantel of the velvet fine,

And in every tress of her horse's mane hung fifty silver bells and nine—

"That song!" Tamsin squeezed his hand. "Where did you learn it?"

"Ah, her truthy tongue. Not ‘Oh, sir, what a gifted bard you are,' but ‘where did you learn that song?'" He chuckled.

"Your voice is like wine and honey, truly. But where did you hear the song?"

"When I was a boy. I do not remember the whole of it, just a few lines. It came to me now. It reminds me of you."

"It tells the tale of Thomas and the faery queen. Did you know?"

He tipped his head. "I heard it in my household when I was young. But stories of your Thomas are all about. My own grandfather met him, I understand."

"Ah. Many did, it is so." The dog trotted toward them then and they both rubbed him affectionately, hands together, even as Liam frowned. He had meant to soothe her in his leaving, but she seemed unsettled by the reminder of her great-grandfather.

"My kinsmen are waiting and we have yet to put on our mail and gear. Even with Gideon's help that will take time. I must go."

"Hurry back. And tell Gideon to be ready if you are delayed."

"So heartfelt, bride," he drawled, kissing her cheek.

"Come back to me," she whispered, finding his lips.

Thornhill was astout castle cresting a long slope overlooking rumpled autumn-gold hills. Liam and the others had ridden the better part of a cool and sunny day, and now the sun was sinking beyond the hills as they arrived. Hailing the gate, they waited, horses nuzzling grass, until a guard opened the studded door in the portcullis.

"Sir William Seton," Liam explained. "With Sir Gilchrist Seton and Sir Finley Macnab. We have a message for Sir Hugh Douglas. He knows my name."

"Your companions wear English colors but you do not. What is your purpose?"

"We bring an important message for Sir Hugh. We will wait," Liam repeated.

Within minutes, the double doors opened and the guard waved them through. As a groom took the horses, the sentry led them up stone steps to the keep's entrance and through to the great hall. There, the setting sun poured rose gold over wooden floors and walls hung with bright shields and embroidered banners.

Sir Hugh, portly and gray, rose from his seat at a table spread with parchments. Three dogs rose with him to run toward the newcomers, barking and jumping.

"Down! Down, I say! They are glad to see someone new, I tell you," Sir Hugh said. Two were long-legged rough-coated hounds that Liam knew—he had given that brace of dogs to Sir Hugh a few years earlier. The third, a small dark terrier, leaped about in a happy blur. Liam and his companions bent to have hands sniffed and pats welcomed.

"There, now go, get!" Sir Hugh told his dogs. "Well met, Sir William! I did not think to meet you again in this earthly life, sir." He clapped Liam on the shoulder. "The last I heard, you were not in good straits."

"All is well now, sir." Liam introduced his brother and cousin. "We are here on Bruce's orders. My kinsmen may wear Edward's gear, but they can be trusted."

"I see. What is the message? First, let me offer you wine and some supper. Arthur!" he called, as a lad came running from a far corner; directed to bring servings of that evening's stew for the guests, he hurried off. Sir Hugh poured wine into silver goblets, handing them about. "Good stuff," he said, "stolen from one of Edward's baggage trains, months back. We took wheat, too, for bread. I tire of oats," he muttered. "But wheat hardly grows in these rocky hills. Bread, though—ah! Worth stealing the grain." He patted his belly, laughed. "Sit down."

As they drank, Liam explained their mission, while Hugh Douglas listened, frowning, tossing out a brusque question now and then. "My daughter," he repeated, rubbing his jaw. "Aye, she is here. Arthur!" he bellowed, as the lad entered with a tray holding bowls and bread. "Tell Lady Kirsten I wish to see her. Now," he added, as the lad scurried off as if the very hounds were after him. Instead, the dogs lazily watched the lad go back and forth, then settled to nap.

"We will see what the lass will do. She makes up her own mind, does my Kirsty."

"She has little choice, sir," Liam said. "Bruce feels there is a serious threat to Thornhill, and any Scotswoman with a tie to him or his is under threat too."

"Just as well she leaves here. Where will you take her?"

"To the safety of Ettrick Forest for now. We will send word."

Moments later, Lady Kirsten entered the room, the same slim dark-haired girl that Liam remembered, with a winsome smile and lilt in her step. Yet her brow puckered as she gave her father a puzzled look, seeing knights with him. As Sir Hugh introduced the men, she looked at Liam more than once, her frown deepening.

"Sir, I believe I know you. Were you at Lochmaben in September?"

He gave her a wry smile. "I was, my lady."

"Master Harper?" She put a hand to her chest. "We thought you had died!"

"As did Lady Tamsin when I saw her again."

"Have you seen her recently? We heard that more soldiers entered Dalrinnie."

"They have, under Sir Malise Comyn. But she is safe in Holyoak Abbey now."

"Sir William was sent here by King Robert," her father explained. "He and his kinsmen have been ordered to fetch you."

Though she startled at the news, Lady Kirsten listened calmly while her father and Liam explained. "These knights are here to keep you safe, my dear," her father said as she began to protest. "I want you to go with them."

"Papa, I cannot leave you and ride off with men I hardly know, even though I have met Sir William," she added.

"My dear, you must go with them. Listen to your father."

"But Papa, in September Sir William was carrying a message for Lady Tamsin—from King Edward, not King Robert."

Sir Hugh turned. "Is it so?"

"It was necessary at the time, sir. But Lady Tamsin has been removed from Dalrinnie and is in no danger now under our watch." He glanced at the others.

"I see. Then we want the same for my daughter."

"Papa, you must come too. You cannot stay here if Thornhill might be taken."

"It is my place to be here, and your duty to leave if King Robert orders it. I agree that our noblewomen must be protected after the fate of Bruce's women. Kirsty, you must go. I will see you soon, I promise."

"If you stay, I stay, Papa." Despite her plea, Douglas shook his head firmly.

"If I may, sir." Liam turned to Lady Kirsten. "We will take you to meet your cousin. It is a long day's ride to the forest from here, but we will take you to shelter with some good loyal folk. And I will bring Lady Tamsin there as well. As for traveling with strangers, we are kin of a sort now, my lady."

"Kin?" Sir Hugh Douglas looked puzzled.

"Lady Tamsin and I were married recently." He smiled, shrugged.

"Married!" Sir Hugh said. "Excellent!"

"Lady Tamsin—a harper's bride?" The girl set a hand over her mouth in surprise.

"In a way. It happened quickly. I will explain later. I know she will be very glad to see you."

"Indeed, that does make you a cousin and kinsman!" Sir Hugh said in a hearty voice that, although a bit forced, might convince his daughter. "From what I know of you, sir, this guarantees my daughter's safe passage in your care."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now, about that other matter, Sir William. Do you plan to transport the rent that we have been gathering here?"

Liam glanced at his brother and cousin. "Aye, though we have only three horses."

"Lady Kirsten will ride her mare. I will lend you another horse."

"How many sacks are there, sir?" Liam asked.

"Two will do, I think. Mostly silver long-cross pennies, some halved and quartered," he clarified, "and a fair amount of plate that can be melted down as needed." While he spoke, Liam saw Kirsten look from one to the other, eyes wide. Clearly, she was unaware that her father had been assisting Liam the last several months. With Sir Hugh's help, they had collected rents from Bruce's tenants listed on rent-rolls for Lochmaben and other properties. Sir Hugh had continued the work after Liam was taken, then finally released.

Another matter had to be mentioned without speaking too openly. Servants or sentries—one stood near the door—might overhear. One could not be too careful.

"And the rent roster? You have marked the names there?" he asked.

Sir Hugh nodded. "Meticulously kept. A cross for those who support Edward. A cross and star next to—those we can trust," he murmured. "Best keep it on your person."

"Aye then." Liam heard the warning.

By the followingafternoon, traveling south and then east since morning, they neared the bridge over the River Annan below Moffat, a considerable day's journey from Thornhill. Throughout the day, Lady Kirsten had proved uncomplaining, a lady with an adventurous spirit and a lively wit. Finley seemed taken with her, Liam noticed, for the lad was increasingly solicitous of her comfort. They stopped twice at an inn for rest and fresh ale, making the journey longer, if less arduous.

"How is Lady Tamsin?" Lady Kirsten had asked almost as soon as they left Thornhill, after she bid her father farewell and wiped away a tear. "I thought she was at Dalrinnie. Papa and I began to worry when we heard more soldiers had gone there."

"She is well, and escaped Dalrinnie of her own accord—a bold thing and a good decision. She is at Holyoak now," he explained. "She will tell you the whole tale as soon as I can bring her to you."

"I want to know everything. Sir Malise came to Dalrinnie, we heard that too. I am concerned about Thornhill and I wish Papa had come with us. He has been ill, you see, and does not travel well. But it could be more dangerous for him to stay."

"They may not take your castle. So far, there are only rumors."

"Did Tamsin leave Dalrinnie because she got the king's orders? She was expecting to hear something soon."

"She did not like the word that Sir Malise brought. We happened upon her and brought her to the abbey, where she has friends."

"Thank you for helping her, Sir William. She must have been as surprised as I was to see you alive and well."

"Oh, she was." He pinched back a smile.

"You showed us great kindness at Lochmaben and now. We are both in your debt. I know Tamsin never forgot you. She was distressed when you were taken that night, and heartbroken when she saw your harp in pieces. She wept so then, convinced you were dead. She had a vision of—but I should not say."

He saw that Finley and Gilchrist were well ahead of them, and spoke more openly, for they did not know the half of Lady Tamsin's worth as yet. "I know the lady has the Sight," he said.

"Aye then. She told me she had seen you on the ground, dead, before we even left the castle. The broken harp confirmed that for her."

"She did not tell me." Liam frowned.

"Nor would she. Her ability—she hesitates to share it, you see. But I can tell you she cared about you. And then somehow your life was saved, and you two found each other, and now you are married! It is a miracle." Kirsty gave a grand sigh. "A tale of love and destiny like in a French roman." She gave him an impish, teasing smile. No wonder, Liam thought, Finley was falling for the lass. "You, sirrah, were saved for a reason."

"To rescue lovely ladies, like every good knight in a tale of chivalry and honor."

"Where is the dragon? Oh! Edward of England," she decided.

Liam laughed outright. The miracle that had saved him, he thought, was the king's impulse to find Lady Thomasina and her wee book. But in his opinion, finding that book was hardly as important as saving the lady.

Stopping at a third inn to refresh, they sat and spoke of the distance to travel before they reached the outskirts of the forest before darkness. Liam brought the leather bags inside, setting them for safekeeping between Finley and Gilchrist.

Glancing up as another patron entered the inn, Liam saw a tall man, brown-haired with keen blue eyes, in a wide brown hood and leather hauberk. Recognizing him, Liam stood and signaled for the man to meet him outside.

"Jesu, it is a relief to see you, Liam!" James Lindsay said moments later. "Looking heartier than expected, considering what we had heard of you. Well done for finding a way out of it. What happened, and what are you doing out this way?"

"I would ask you the same. It is a long way from the castles of Wildshaw and Aberlady." Liam explained briefly that Edward had seen fit to release him, and that a covert errand for Bruce brought him from Thornhill to Ettrick Forest. His old friend would realize much was left unsaid for now. "How is Cousin Isobel?" Liam finished.

"Content and beautiful, and expecting a child." He grinned at Liam's quick congratulations. "Aye, another cousin for you, lad. Isobel is with us in the forest, but I want her safe in Wildshaw as she advances. We have been keeping close watch on Edward's soldiers," he added. "They are removing timber from the forest, thinning the fringes and encroaching on places where refugees have been hiding. Not just our few. More people are fleeing into the forest."

"So I understand. By the Rood, it is heaven's own luck to see you, Jamie. We are headed into Ettrick to seek refuge for the girl with us—Lady Kirsten, daughter of Douglas of Thornhill. Bruce wants her safe, along with other Scotswomen."

"With good reason. I am meeting Quentin Fraser to head back that way. We would be glad to accompany you into the woodland. Our center has moved since you were with us last. Come anywhere near the Eldin Linn and we will find you, for good or ill." James gave him a wry smile. "But you will always have safe passage."

"Appreciated, sir. Another matter," Liam murmured. "I have a delivery that must go to a messenger that Bruce will send. That fellow will convey it discreetly to the king. My cousin Finley," he said, indicating the inn, "can bring the lady to the forest for safekeeping, and these bags too, if you agree. Gilchrist and I should return to Holyoak."

"Ah, I understand. We can help. Bruce sent a message recently that he expected something from you and asked for my assistance. He will be glad to know you are well, lad, when we can get word to him."

Liam nodded. "I must meet this messenger when he arrives. Can you help with that? Aye, good. Also, if the others can remain with you in the forest, I want to bring another lady who is in my keeping."

"Also under Bruce's protection?"

"In a way. My bride, as it happens." Seeing Lindsay's lifted brow, Liam half smiled. "I would ask asylum in the forest for her as well, for a little while."

"The great Caledonian Forest provides endless sanctuary to those in need, my friend. Come, introduce me to your cousin and the young lady of Thornhill."