Highland Angel (3 page)

Payton smiled faintly. “Sorry. ’Tis my hope it willnae take too long for the children to feel safer here, as safe as they can feel whilst that bastard still lives. And, my first move is to carefully start to blacken the mon’s name, as Kirstie tried to do. A whisper here, a warning there. Aye, I will immediately seek the proof I need to bring him down, but through rumor and the spread of a suspicion, I can turn other eyes his way. I can start depriving him of victims and make him begin to feel the weight of that suspicion, and, mayhap, e’en condemnation.”

Strong Ian nodded as he stood up. “And e’en your enemies ken that your word is good. If ye whisper a warning, ’twill be heeded. ’Twill be a good start.”

As soon as Ian was gone, Payton sighed and slumped in his chair. He had told the truth about needing to keep an eye on Kirstie, to be certain that she did not lose the battle of logic over emotion. It was a battle he would be fighting himself every day until Sir Roderick was dead. Payton did not think he had ever faced such a challenge. It would be a fierce struggle not to immediately denounce the man, loudly and clearly; an even fiercer struggle not to give in to the keen urge to just cut him down. Payton hoped the need to keep Kirstie from letting her emotions rule would give him the strength to control his own.

It was also going to be hard not to involve his family. This was a crusade they would be avid to join. Payton knew he would be spending many long days soothing tempers and bruised feelings when his family discovered he had excluded them. But, exclude them he would until he either had no choice or there was no longer the risk of
bringing the wrath of the powerful MacIye clan down upon them all. His family might be bigger and hold more power than Kirstie’s, but he had the same fear of retribution. MacIye’s kinsmen might not be able to decimate his clan and its allies, but they could bloody them far more than Payton cared to think about.

Payton tensed when the door to the hall eased open, then relaxed when Moira shyly entered. She was an enchanting little child with her thick, dark curls and her big, dark eyes. He smiled at her as she hurried across the floor and climbed up onto the chair to his right, her clean night shift billowing around her. Payton nudged the plate of bread and cheese closer to her. When she smiled at him, his heart nearly broke. She still wished to trust. Sir Roderick had not succeeded in stealing that from the child.

“Ye should be abed, lass,” he said as he poured her a goblet full of clear, cool water.

“I was a wee bit hungry,” she replied.

“Mistress Alice took food up to your bedchamber.”

“She was sleeping.” She took a sip of water, then asked softly, “Where is Kirstie?”

“She is sleeping, too. I gave her the bedchamber right across the hall from ye.”

Payton was not surprised to see Callum abruptly enter the hall and stride over to Moira’s side. He looked a child in the nightshirt he wore, his thin calves visible below the hem. The hot look of anger and suspicion in his green eyes and the knife he held stole away all hint of boyish innocence, however.

“Ye didnae have to bring your knife, Callum,” Moira said. “They already have one to cut the bread.”

“I wasnae looking to cut bread, lass,” Callum snapped. “Ye shouldnae be down here with this mon.”

“He isnae a bad mon.”

“Wheesht, how would ye ken that?”

Moira looked at Payton for a moment, then looked back at Callum and shrugged. “His eyes. They dinnae look like my mither’s mon’s or Sir Rod’rick’s.” She looked back at Payton. “My mither is with the angels, like my brother. The angels willnae take me, will they?”

“Nay, lass,” Payton replied. “I willnae let that happen. And,” he nodded toward Callum who had been unable to resist the food and was gnawing on a thick slice of bread, “ye have a fine protector in Callum.”

“Aye.” Moira smiled at Callum. “And he has a big knife now.”

“That he does,” agreed Payton. “Mayhap he would like to learn how to use it,” he said, fixing his gaze upon the boy.

“I ken how to use it weel enough,” snapped Callum.

“Ah, then ye dinnae need any training from Strong Ian.” Payton took a drink to hide his smile over the interest Callum was unable to hide.

“Weel, there may be a trick or two the mon could show me.”

“There may be.”

“I will do some thinking on it.”

“Verra wise.”

“I have the wee ones to protect and all, ye ken.”

“That ye do, lad, and to be alert to do that important job weel, ye need rest.” Payton stood up and, keeping his gaze fixed upon a wary Callum, helped Moira out of her
seat. “I mean to seek my bed myself.” He was surprised at how touched he was when Moira slipped her tiny hand into his. “Ere ye slip back to your beds, I will show ye where the Lady Kirstie sleeps.”

Payton could almost feel Callum’s watchful gaze as the boy followed him and Moira up the stairs to their bedchamber. The fact that Kirstie had given him her approval was obviously enough to stir a tiny spark of trust in Callum. It would require a lot of patience, but Payton was determined to keep that spark alive and make it grow. He knew one way was to accept the boy’s self-appointed role as protector of the wee ones. The fact that Callum had a cause, an obvious need to be an important member of this band of small survivors, could well help the child recover from all he had suffered. There would always be scars, but Payton was certain that strength and a restored pride in himself would help the boy more than anything else. Callum was a survivor, a fighter, and that was a characteristic Payton knew how to work with.

He paused before Kirstie’s bedchamber and eased the door open so the two children could see that their lady was still near them, still safe. She was sprawled on her stomach on the bed, her slender body barely shaping the thick blankets covering her. Her face was turned toward them, one small fist resting near her mouth. Payton thought she looked like a child and wondered what there was about her that had made Sir Roderick unable to truly see her as one. At the tender age of fifteen she must have looked even more like a child, yet, despite his hopes, the man had apparently been unable to convince himself she was one when it was time to bed her. The few of Sir Roderick’s ilk Payton had been unfortunate enough to deal with, had all had wives and children, obviously able to act as a man despite the demons lurking within them. Perhaps, he mused, Sir Roderick’s demon had conquered him. Inwardly shaking his head over that puzzle, Payton silently shut the door and escorted the children to their own room.

“Are ye going to fight Sir Roderick on the morrow?” Callum asked in a near whisper, pausing in the doorway beside Payton as Moira tiptoed to her small bed.

“I will begin the battle, aye,” replied Payton in an equally soft voice. “’Twill be a long one, I am thinking. It must be a slow, cautious assault.”

“Why?”

“Because we are the only ones who are willing to speak out against him. ’Tis nay enough. His family is a powerful one.”

“We would be killed.”

Pleased the boy had the wit to understand the difficulties, Payton nodded. “And my kinsmen and your lady’s could find themselves in danger, e’en in the midst of a feud. Aye, Sir Roderick must die, but we want to be sure no innocents fall with him. We want him to die alone, his name nay more than a foul curse.”

Callum nodded. “And that will take time.”

“Aye, lad, especially since ye, the bairns, and your lady must all be kept weel hidden. The mon will taste the cold steel of justice, but ye must be patient.”

“I will be. And, I will grow and get strong,” he looked at the knife he held, “and I will learn how to fight.” He looked at Payton. “And, when that bastard is dead, I will still grow and get stronger and become a mon of skill and cunning.”

“Of that I have nay doubt.”

“And then I will be able to protect the wee ones from all such men. Then I will be able to hunt down such evil and end it. On that I swear.” He gave a sharp nod and strode
to his bed.

Payton made his way to his own bed, thinking of what Callum had said. In his heart, the boy had already taken the oath to protect children. In his heart, Payton also took an oath. He and his clan would give the boy all he needed to fulfill that oath. By the time Callum reached manhood, he would have all the skill, learning, and weaponry he needed to be the guardian of innocence he wished to be. Payton knew that it would be a legacy to the world he could take pride in.

“Where are the bairns?” Payton asked Strong Ian as he met the man outside of the empty room where the children had slept.

“Been up and about for an hour or more,” replied Ian.

“Jesu, I must have been weary to sleep through the rising of five children.”

“Nay. ’Tis sad how quiet they were. Like wee ghosties.” Ian shook his head as he started down the narrow stairs. “My Alice would have slept through it, too, except wee Moira woke her. The poor lass couldnae get her clothes on proper.”

“Moira seems right ready to trust us,” said Payton as he followed Ian.

“My Alice thinks the other wee ones will be quick to accept us, too. The lass was loved by her mother, it seems, so she kens an adult can have a kindness in him. The wee lads were probably not with that bastard long enough to have all their faith and innocence destroyed. Ah, but Callum lost much of his ere he was e’en cursed by Sir Roderick’s attentions. As a street waif he would have had a dismal life, nay much better than a stray cat’s.”

Payton sighed and nodded. “He survived. He is a strong lad. He wants to be a champion of innocence.”

“He would probably be a good one if one can teach him nay to just cut the throats of such scum.”

“Aye, that could be a problem,” Payton agreed, and laughed softly. “That dismal beginning could actually serve him weel now. He was hardened, wise to evil and brutality, ere MacIye got his filthy hands on him. As ye say, there was probably no sweetness or innocence in Callum to be destroyed.” Payton frowned. “There is something strangely familiar about the boy.” He shrugged. “No matter. Ridding the world of MacIye is all that must concern us for now.”

“Are ye going to send word to your kin?”

“Nay, not yet. If I must ask them to assist me against a clan as powerful as Sir Roderick’s, I want to be sure I have at least enough proof to avert the chances of a feud. Or, that the danger to Kirstie and the children grows too great, more than we can deal with on our own.”

“Agreed,” said Strong Ian as they entered the great hall. “For now, we can deal with the bastard.”

Payton nodded and started toward his chair. After serving the children, Kirstie was just helping herself to some food as he sat down next to her. Callum watched him closely, even as he continued to eat, but the other children greeted him shyly before turning all their attention to their food. It was becoming increasingly clear to Payton that the younger children had been saved before they were too badly abused. They were wary and easily frightened, but held none of Callum’s intense distrust or rage.

“Did ye pass a good night, m’lady?” Payton asked as he helped himself to some bread and fruit.

“Oh, aye,” replied Kirstie. “It has been too long since I enjoyed such a warm, soft bed. And to have had a hot bath and a meal ere I sought my bed as weel? Ah, there is heaven.”

“But, ye were wedded to a laird,” Wee Alice muttered as she served Payton a large bowl of honey-sweetened oatmeal and moved to serve the children more of the same.

“And she was always irritating him,” Callum said as Wee Alice sat down next
to Moira.

“I wasnae,” Kirstie began to protest.

“Oh, aye. Ye were. ’Tis what the mon said the last time he shut ye in the cage for near to a sennight. He said that ye irritated him like a bad rash.”

“The cage?” Payton asked.

“My husband feels wives need stern chastisement,” Kirstie replied. One glance told her Sir Payton would press for a more precise answer and she sighed. “He had a metal cage hung from one of the walls at Thanescarr, his keep about a half-day’s ride south of here. Occasionally, he put me in it so I could ponder the error of my ways. A week was the longest I e’er had to rest there. Ye cannae be so verra surprised that my husband can be cruel.”

“Nay, yet one can still be shocked by what form that cruelty can take. Ye ne’er told your kinsmen?”

“Nay. I am my husband’s chattel, am I not? They could do little. And, they would be so angered they would strike out at him, so burdening them with the truth would only cost them dearly. I would gain little respite from my woes, but my family, my clan, would suffer most grievously. As I told ye, they could too easily be utterly destroyed.”

“Yet, ye seek my help. Do ye nay think I might suffer for it?”

“Ye have the favor of those who rule. Ye have kinsmen and allies far greater than my family could e’er hope for. Ye also have a reputation for fighting on the side of the helpless. There are many reasons I could give for choosing ye, but all lead to the same conclusion. Ye will take up this cause and fight weel, with the power and allies needed to ensure it doesnae cost ye your life. My kinsmen dinnae. There is also the fact that no one kens that we have e’er met.”

Payton sat back in his chair and studied her for a moment. “Ye have been planning all of this for a while?”

“Months,” she replied. “I might have waited e’en longer to seek ye out if I could have gotten these children away and if my husband hadnae decided I was too great a threat to him to live.” She nudged her empty plate to the side, clasped her hands upon the table, and looked at him. “So, do ye have a plan?”

“For now, ye and the children hide here. Ye shall remain dead or run off. ’Tis best if your husband feels he succeeded in ridding himself of ye. I shall go to the court. If there are already whispers about Sir Roderick, ones ye planted or others, I shall add to them. If there are none, I shall spread my own.”

“That is all?” she asked, even though she knew he could not simply declare Sir Roderick evil and cut him down, that one had to move cautiously.

“For now. As I told young Callum, this could take weeks, months, e’en years. Sir Roderick must be brought low first and that could take time. We must hope he has few close friends and allies, and those he may have will step aside once the rumors and whispers begin to spread. My plan can change at any time, depending upon how many will heed the whispers that will soon swirl about the court, but the heart of it will remain the same. I will see him cut away from all support—then I will see him dead.”

“’Tis a good plan, the only one which may succeed. ’Tis just that I seem to have no part in it at all.”

“Ye cannae. ’Tis truly for the best if your husband continues to believe ye are dead. The moment he discovers ye still live, matters will grow more complicated, more
deadly. Then we shall have to divide our time and strength between keeping ye alive and destroying him. The children, too, must be kept weel out of sight. He must ken ye are the reason they slipped his grasp—thus they, too, could be seen as a threat. If they are seen to be with me, then I lose all chance to slip about, slowly weakening him. He will suspect we work together, that ye may have told me too many of his secrets, and again, I will need to turn to defending myself and the children. Callum most certainly must be verra careful to remain unseen. Sir Roderick has already marked the lad for death. Callum may be young and untrained, but Sir Roderick already sees him as a threat.”

“I can take care of myself,” Callum snapped. “I am no bairn to be coddled.”

Payton looked at the boy, knowing he had to be careful not to sting the youth’s pride. “I dinnae doubt that ye can care for yourself. ’Tis a wise mon who kens his own strengths and those of his enemy, however. Your enemy is a trained knight with other trained warriors at his command. All of whom are bigger and stronger than ye are. Ye are undoubtedly verra good at running and hiding, slipping about to see and hear what ye shouldnae without getting caught. ’Tis still an unequal battle ye would fight. Your heart and mind are equal to many a knight’s, but your body is still that of a boy—easily grabbed, easily held, and verra easily broken.”

Callum glared down at his too-thin body. “I just need to eat more.”

“’Twill help. So will allowing Strong Ian to teach ye how to use that knife ye now carry. Mayhap e’en a few other things a mon needs to ken to stay alive, to win his battles. And, think on this, my brave lad. If ye are found, ye could endanger Lady Kirstie and e’en the other children.”

“I would ne’er betray them.”

“Nay, I ken ye wouldnae. The simple fact that ye are still lurking about would probably be enough to start that swine to thinking, however. Why, when ye ken he wants ye dead, are ye still so close at hand? ’Tis the verra first question he will ask himself. And, he willnae need ye to give him answers. They will be far too easy to guess. Help the others to stay safe and hidden, lad. Work to grow strong and skilled. Your turn to fight will come and ’tis a wise mon who prepares for it.”

It was another half hour before Kirstie found herself alone with Payton. Strong Ian had taken Callum off to begin training him and the other children had gone with Wee Alice. Kirstie looked at Payton, silently praying that the way his fair face could make her heart clench would soon pass. She needed a warrior, not a lover. She was in need of a champion for the children, not romance or infatuation.

“What ye said to Callum,” she began.

Payton held up a hand to stop her words. “The lad has his pride. He needs to have it. He also needs to ken that there is no shame in accepting that a thin lad is nay match for a grown, battle-trained knight. Callum’s belligerence may hide it, but we both ken a lot of his anger is born of shame. If the lad can come to see that there was naught he could do, that he was nay at fault for what was done to him, some of that shame might fade. As Ian teaches him the ways of battle, he will come to see that he was no match for his enemy. He will come to see that the shame is all Sir Roderick’s, that only a dishonorable mon would use his greater strength and power to abuse those he swore to protect.”

“Thank ye all the same for speaking to him nay as a mon to a child, but as a mon to a mon. He is the most wounded of them all and I think the hurting began ere Roderick got his filthy fingers on the lad.” She sighed and shook her head. “I dinnae think all the scars
upon his poor, wee heart will e’er be healed.”

“Nay, probably not.” He smiled faintly when she winced. “He can still be a strong, good mon, Kirstie. He has the strength, in heart and mind, and his plans for his future are to grow strong, learn to fight, and protect the bairns. The fact that he speaks of protecting, nay killing, should give ye some hope.”

“I suspect he means to protect by killing.”

“Aye, but he is still young. Restraint and clear judgment can yet be taught.” He stood up, took her hand in his, and, ignoring her shock, kissed her fingers. “Now, I am off to the king’s court to whisper in a few weel chosen ears and find out all I can.”

“And I am to creep off into a wee hidey-hole, aye?”

“Aye. And, it would be verra wise if ye crept into it and stayed there until I say ye can come out.”

Payton almost smiled as the soft-bellied laird he had been talking to hurried off to find his young son. The man was not particularly keen-witted, yet had understood Payton’s subtle hints about Sir Roderick MacIye with an impressive speed. There had to be some past knowledge or crime for such a man to grasp the meaning of Payton’s words so quickly, to look so stricken, and to race off through the crowded great hall to find his child as if a blade was already pressing against the boy’s throat. It was quite possible that Sir Roderick had already shown an unhealthy interest in the boy.

“Greetings, my bonny knight,” purred a familiar voice in his ear, followed by a few teasing licks of a warm tongue.

When Payton turned to face Lady Fraser, he was surprised to feel not even the smallest flicker of interest. He knew he was lusting after Kirstie, but he had lusted after more than one woman at a time in the past. He had also been without a woman for longer than he had ever been since he was a very young man. Yet, the welcoming look in the lady’s eyes, and the press of her fulsome body against his side, did not move him at all. Payton was both intrigued and alarmed. Was he weary of the games one played with women like Lady Fraser or had he, for the first time in his life, become physically bound to only one woman? And, if he had, what could he do about it and how long would it last?

“My husband has been summoned to his father’s bedside,” she said as she stroked his arm. “He will be gone for days. And nights. Many long, lonely nights.”

“Ah, my sweet dove, how ye do tempt this poor, weak mon,” he murmured as he took her hand from his arm and kissed her fingers. “I weep to think of the treasure I must turn away from.”

“Turn away from?” She snatched her hand away and glared at him. “Ye refuse me?”

“My fair one, I must, though it stabs me to the heart. The king’s men rarely ask anything of me,” he began.

“Ha! The old king and now the heir’s regents keep ye at their beck and call.” She frowned in the direction Payton’s previous companion had fled. “And what could that silly fool have to do with the regents’ business?”

“Now, my bonny pigeon, ye ken that a mon cannae talk about such things. But, I will say that that mon and I only spoke about his young son. He seeks to foster the lad, to begin his training and all. The mon sought my opinion on a few men.” Payton suddenly
realized there was one other thing Lady Fraser was well known for. She was an avid collector and disperser of gossip. “He was curious about Sir Lesley MacNicol and Sir Roderick MacIye. I fear I wasnae verra helpful. I dinnae ken MacIye weel, though I have heard a whisper or two about the mon.”

“He is odd,” Lady Fraser murmured, glancing around the crowded room as if searching for the man. “He is frequently at the king’s court, yet, e’en if hardpressed, I doubt anyone could tell ye the name of e’en one woman he has favored with his attentions. I have seen him indulge in some flirtation, but it was light, fleeting.”

“I heard he was married.”

“And holds true to his vows?” Lady Fraser laughed, but there was a bitter taint to her amusement. “Oh, I have heard that your family does, but if that is true, ’tis a verra rare thing indeed. And, if Sir Roderick was so verra enamored of his wife that he remained faithful to her, why is he here but a day after she drowned?”

“Drowned?”

“Aye, ’tis what he is telling all who will listen, although he doesnae seem to be doing so in order to gain the sympathy and comfort of some woman. ’Tisnae as if anyone needs to ken the news, either, for she wasnae one who was weel kenned or loved.”