Devil in a Kilt by Sue-Ellen Welfonder
Chapter 15
Several leagues away from the confining walls of Eilean Creag, Linnet followed a well-trampled footpath through a copse of ancient yew trees. She sought the burial cairns Brother Baldric had said marked the spot she’d find the herb, ragwort. The well-traveled monk had assured her the healing plant grew in profusion next to a sacred well near the cairns.
Robbie and his dog, Mauger, trailed behind her, the boy carrying a linen sack the monks had given her to collect the wild-growing ragwort. They’d generously filled her own leather pouch with a large assortment of cultivated herbs from their herbarium.
“We’re almost there,” she told Robbie when she spied a rounded pile of stones beyond the edge of the grove. “I can see the cairns.” Upon her words, Mauger trotted ahead to sniff at the low heaps of lichen-covered stones.
“There won’t be any spirits about, will there?” Robbie hung back as if reluctant to exchange the cool shade of the trees for the grassy clearing with its collection of burial mounds.
“None that will harm you,” Linnet assured him, reaching for his hand and drawing him into the late afternoon sunshine. “All who rest here, sleep peacefully. This is a good place, guarded by those who’ve gone before us and blessed with a holy well. You’ve nothing to fear.”
Robbie did not look convinced, but he let her lead him forward. Still, he peered with rounded eyes at each cairn they passed. “Are you sure?”
“Were I not, I wouldn’t have brought you here.” Linnet stopped to tousle the boy’s dark hair. “More danger abounds on the road where the others wait for us than here with our ancestors.”
But not much later, as she bent to gather more of the yellow-flowering ragwort from the banks of a tumbling burn, she was no longer so certain. She tensed, her skin prickling despite the day’s warmth and the sweet fragrance of the wildflowers that grew with abandon among the tall grass.
Something – someone – watched them from the shelter of the trees, and whoever it was came from the land of the living, not the shadow world of the dead.
And they weren’t friendly.
Although the sacred ground upon which they stood was hushed and peaceful in the afternoon haze, Linnet’s pulse quickened, and she regretted coming to the cairns unguarded save Robbie’s elderly dog.
Mauger shared her unease, for he’d abandoned his exploration of the cairns to hasten back to their sides. Low growls rumbling deep in his chest, the coarse fur between his shoulders raised, he kept close to them as he watched the edge of the woods with wary eyes.
A trickle of moisture rolled between Linnet’s breasts. Plague take her for disregarding Fergus’s offer to accompany them. She’d selfishly wanted to have Robbie to herself, to savor being alone with him in a special place.
Now, she’d brought them both into danger.
Straightening, she dropped an apronful of ragwort into the sack Robbie held open for her. Without letting him notice, she hoped, she scanned the edges of the clearing but saw nothing except the glossy, reddish brown trunks of the great yews and their overarching mass of thick branches.
Yet she knew someone hid there.
Someone who meant them ill.
“Give me your hand, Robbie lad,” she said as calmly as she could. “It is time for us to go.”
“But the sack isn’t full.”
“We’ve enough for the salve I want to make.” She took him firmly by the hand. “It is good to take only what we need, you see, and now is not the best time to collect herbs anyway. Early morn is far better.”
She kept up a stream of chatter as they crossed the clearing. Perhaps by doing so Robbie wouldn’t sense her nervousness – or his dog’s. She also hoped he hadn’t noticed she’d slipped her new dirk from the pouch attached to the band of her apron. The dirk’s finely honed blade was far superior to her old herb dagger and would serve her well should she need to make use of it.
At the thought of such a possibility, Linnet tightened her grip on Robbie’s hand and silently thanked Dundonnell’s smithy for his gift, and his foresight.
Then she spotted Duncan. He stood in the green shadows where the footpath reentered the wood. Her relief upon seeing him was so great her knees almost gave out on her. The rapid pounding of her heart took on another meaning, too, for never had her husband appeared more handsome.
Minus his black mail and permanent scowl, and with the MacKenzie plaid slung proudly over his bare shoulder, the sight of him stole her breath away. Faith, but he was even smiling at her.
“Praise the saints!” She dashed forward, pulling Robbie behind her. Mauger barked furiously, but Linnet was blind and deaf to all save the magnificent-looking man before her.
All the conflicting feelings he stirred in her vanished in the face of the sheer terror that had consumed her mere moments before. Nothing mattered except the comforting reassurance of his presence.
“Sir,” she called, nigh breathless. “I am so glad to see you!”
Robbie tugged on her hand and the force of his strength surprised her. Spinning around to face him, she almost lost her balance. “Your father is here, lad. Do you not see him? There, by the path?”
The boy shook his head, edging backward and trying to pull her with him. “He isnae my papa. ’Tis him… the bad one. ’Tis Uncle Kenneth.”
“Dear God.” Linnet’s heart plummeted, and the terror returned, more ominous than before. Turning slowly around, she saw that the smiling man who could pass for Duncan MacKenzie’s twin had left the cover of the trees and now strolled toward them.
Still smiling, and still heartstoppingly handsome, much more so than her battle-worn and grim-faced husband could ever hope to be, but evil to the core.
His true nature was frighteningly apparent because, now that he’d stepped into the sunlight, Linnet clearly saw a sickly greenish black glow shimmer all around his body before it flared and disappeared.
A shudder skittered down her spine. She’d seen that shade only once before and had hoped never to see it again.
Unlike the darkness of despair she’d glimpsed once or twice about her husband, the dark marring Kenneth MacKenzie’s beauty was the mark of an evil man.
A murderer.
“The lad doesnae want to believe it, but he is mine,” Kenneth MacKenzie said, pausing to fold his arms in a gesture that perfectly mirrored the favored stance of his half brother. “And you can only be the lady Linnet? I was told my brother had married a healer, but no one informed me of your great beauty, my lady.”
He made her a gallant bow. “Kenneth MacKenzie, at your service,” he said with a silky tone and a knowing smile that didn’t quite touch his dark blue eyes. “What good fortune to make your fair acquaintance since Duncan did not extend me the courtesy of an invitation to your wedding.”
“I am sure he had his reasons for not doing so,” Linnet stated as calmly as she could. Beside her, Mauger growled his displeasure. His hackles rose again and he bared his teeth menacingly, but made no attempt to attack, only to protect and defend.
Linnet tightened her grip on the dagger she kept hidden in the folds of her gown. “You will excuse us. My husband’s guardsmen await our return.”
“No’ if they’re sleeping as soundly as the one I passed on the footpath. Tongueless Thomas, I believe. He may have been coming for you, but it seems the overgrown lad walked into a tree.”
The corners of his mouth twitched as if he meant to laugh, and he raised a hand to rub his chin. “At least I cannae think of another reason for the nasty lump I saw on his forehead.”
Fear welled in Linnet’s chest, but she forced herself to remain calm. Her sixth sense told her their lives depended on her keeping her wits. “Then we must bid you good day and be on our way so I can assist Thomas back to the cart.”
“Ah, but ‘tis such a fine afternoon,” Kenneth lamented, coming closer. “Surely you willnae deny me a visit with my own son?”
Ignoring him, Linnet yanked Robbie closer and made to rush past the man, but he whistled sharply and a band of unsmiling, filthy men stepped from the trees around the clearing, successfully blocking any path of escape she’d hoped to take.
Kenneth smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “My men dinnae mean any harm, my lady, but you will understand they ken how much I’ve been missing my wee lad here.”
“You’re not my papa!” Robbie shouted, balling his fists and struggling to break free of Linnet’s grasp. “I’m not yours!”
“Of course, you are,” Kenneth fair crooned, the wild light in his eyes warning Linnet he wasn’t right in his head. “Just look at you, full of fire and ready to fight. Were you Duncan’s get, you’d be cowering behind Lady Linnet’s skirts, hiding the way my brother hides behind the walls of his keep.”
White-hot anger shot through Linnet with the speed of a lightning bolt, chasing away her fear. “And I say it is the mark of a coward who’d slander a man before his wife and young son. Or would you spew such lies in the face of my lord husband?”
“Ah…” Kenneth steepled his fingers and brought them to his chin. “I see you’ve fallen under his spell. My late father suffered the same affliction, I’m afraid. Ne’er could he see my brother’s shortcomings while my own were e’er falling from his tongue.”
“My sympathies. Now step aside and let us pass,” Linnet demanded, whipping out her dagger. “If you do not, you’ll give me no choice but to plant my blade between your eyes.”
Kenneth threw back his head and laughed. “What-ho! ’Tis not only the lady’s tongue that’s sharp. So you would threaten me with your dirk?”
“Nae, Sir Kenneth, I am not threatening you,” Linnet said, dragging Robbie behind her. “I am warning you what I’ll do if you do not stop accosting us.”
A look of fierce anger flashed across his handsome face, but it vanished almost instantly as he swept low in another courtly bow. When he straightened, he wore a wolfish grin.
“You’ve no need to wax noble with me, Lady Linnet, for I cannae claim the title of sir. My father, rest his soul, did not see the need to bestow knighthood upon me. Nor will any other noble capable of performing the deed. I bear the stigma of being baseborn, you see.” He paused and flung his arms up in the air as if for emphasis. “It matters naught, though, for an adubbement as knight isn’t necessary for a man to be chivalrous.”
“It’ll matter far less after I take aim at you,” Linnet shot back. “It will be hard to appear gallant with the hilt of my dagger protruding from the top of your nose.”
Kenneth laughed again, a full-bodied, rich kind of masculine laughter that would’ve made her laugh, too, did his mirth reach his eyes – and if her gift hadn’t let her look deep into the darkness of his twisted soul.
“Protruding from the top of my nose, you say?” He smiled, bending backward in his amusement. “I vow that snarling beast at your side poses a greater threat. Fair lady, if you can land your blade anywhere within an arm’s length of where I stand, you, the lad, and his hell-dog, may leave this place unhindered.”
His fingers caressed the hilt of his own dagger, tucked jauntily beneath a wide leather belt. “Or perhaps I shall relieve you both of the wretched hound now? The cur’s barking sorely annoys me.”
“And if I slice off a lock of your hair, will you give me your word that we – all three of us – may leave here unharmed?” Linnet challenged him, hiding her fear that he’d hurt Robbie’s pet behind bold words, instinctively aware she must concede to his image of himself as a gallant if they hoped to gain a safe retreat.
“A lock of my hair?” His black brows shot heavenward. “Lady, if you can do that, you shall have my solemn word.”
“Then pray choose the lock of your choice and hold it high.”
An expression very much like admiration curved his lips in a smile that would’ve been irresistibly seductive to any other woman. Without taking his gaze off her, he raised his hand and lifted a portion of thick black hair from the top of his head.
“Take aim, but be warned,” he said, his voice smooth as sun-warmed silk, “if you lose, I shall demand a kiss.”
“I never lose,” Linnet countered. “My brothers taught me well.”
Concentrating, she focused her gaze on the man who looked so like her husband she almost had second thoughts about throwing a knife at him. But he wasn’t Duncan. He was a man whose envy and warped logic made him capable of unspeakable acts of treachery.
The colors of the darkness she’d glimpsed clinging to him when he’d first stepped from the trees revealed his true nature beyond a doubt.
The thought of Robbie falling into his hands was beyond unbearable. The lad’s grief should harm befall his beloved dog, a cruelty she must attempt to spare him. Her heart, too, would ache should Kenneth make good his threat against Mauger. She had no choice but to defend them all as best she could.
Grateful to Ranald for training her in the art of knife throwing, and to the saints for giving her the patience to learn, Linnet sent a quick prayer skyward, asking all the powers to guide her hand.
Then she took a deep breath, narrowed her eyes, and let her dagger fly.
It seemed the blade had no sooner left her fingers then a collective gasp erupted from Kenneth MacKenzie’s men and he stood gaping at her, one hand clamped atop his head. Then he bent and scooped up her knife – and his lock of hair – from the ground at his feet.
He stood for a moment, staring down at the two items in his hands, then turned his gaze on her. This time there could be no mistake about the admiration in his eyes. A look of sheer amazement replaced his flamboyant smile.
“You kept your word.” He came toward her, the dark lock of hair and her knife offered to her on the palms of his outstretched hands. “I shall do no less. You may go.”
Hoping he couldn’t see how she trembled inside, Linnet took her blade and tucked it beneath the band of her apron. She made to leave, but he stepped before her, blocking their way.
“Please take this as a token of my admiration.” He held out the lock of hair. “I should be vastly injured if you decline.”
Linnet accepted his offering with a curt nod. She’d dispose of it as soon as they were a safe distance from him.
Holding her head high, she led Robbie away, trying hard not to show the fear knotting her stomach now that the unpleasant encounter was almost over. Mauger trotted along beside them, casting wary glances over his shoulder as they went. At the edge of the clearing, just before they reached the path back to the road, Kenneth MacKenzie called out once more.
“Do no’ think you’ve seen the last of me, lady. I like a woman with fire in her blood,” he shouted. “Aye, lass, we shall meet again. Be certain of it.”