My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (16 page)

T
o avoid drawing attention to himself, Murdoch waited but a minute or two after Merewen rode back into the keep before following her into the stable. It didn’t appear that her uncle had noticed her absence at dinner, but Murdoch could be wrong about that.

Right now he was more concerned about why Olaf had been watching for her. The man hadn’t actually said that was his purpose in pacing along the walk near the top of the palisade and observing the approach to the gate. However, he wasn’t on duty, and as soon as she’d been spotted, he’d immediately disappeared. Murdoch’s instincts warned him that the man was on the hunt and Merewen was his intended prey.

Murdoch had no intention of letting Olaf anywhere near her for long, especially alone. And if the bastard touched the lady, he would bleed, although Murdoch really hoped that it wouldn’t come to that—not yet. Luckily, he had a perfect excuse for seeking her out himself. After all, Lady Alina had told him to present himself to Merewen if his arm bothered him.

The stable was dim and quiet. Tired from their day out in the sun, the horses stood dozing in their stalls. Murdoch closed his eyes to focus on listening. If there were any humans in the massive stable, he couldn’t sense their presence. He walked toward the stall reserved for Merewen’s horse. The mare was there, but she still bore both her saddle and bridle.

Murdoch suspected Lady Merewen’s first concern would always be for her mount. Unless something was wrong, she would never neglect the mare’s care no matter how tired she was herself. His hand on his sword, he started back through the stable, checking each stall as he went. Despite his hope that Merewen had been called to see to another horse whose needs were more pressing, he found no sign of her anywhere.

That left her workshop and the great hall. He started with the first one simply because it was closer. As soon as he turned the corner toward the small building, he heard voices—one female, one male. He recognized both, which had him hurrying his steps. Although Merewen sounded irritated, her voice held a hint of fear as well.

The belligerent male voice belonged to Olaf. If he was attempting to bully Merewen, Murdoch would teach the man some manners. He stopped outside the door in a spot that afforded him a clear view inside the workshop. Just as he expected, Olaf was crowding Merewen.

“If I tell your uncle that you disobeyed my orders again, you will suffer for your willful behavior either at his hand or mine.” His smile made it clear which of those choices he was hoping for.

Merewen stood her ground. “Tell him anything you want to, but Fagan knows that I only go when someone needs my aid in treating an injured animal. I returned as soon as I was able.”

Her voice remained calm, but her clenched fists told the real story. She was afraid, but Murdoch couldn’t tell whether it was Olaf who caused that tremor in her hands or the fear of facing her uncle. Either way, it was time to intervene.

Acting as if he hadn’t heard the prior discussion, Murdoch entered the workroom. “Lady Merewen, I’m sorry to bother you, but your lady aunt suggested I see you if my wound worsened.”

He held out his bandaged arm as proof of his claim.

Olaf didn’t appreciate the interruption. “Take care of it yourself. Lady Merewen isn’t here to tend to the likes of you. It is hardly her fault that you were clumsy enough to get yourself cut in arms practice.”

Merewen immediately turned to her worktable and started gathering supplies. “Please be seated, Sir Murdoch.”

He was reluctant to sit down because it would leave him at a disadvantage if Olaf went on the attack. He was still debating the issue when Averel appeared in the doorway, flanked by both of his dogs.

He ignored Olaf, looking instead at Murdoch. “I see you found Lady Merewen. What did she say about your arm?”

Confident his friend could handle any confrontations with Olaf, Murdoch continued the charade of needing medical attention and took a seat on the bench. “She was just about to look at it.”

The dogs crowded into the room, leaving their master standing in the doorway. With her love of animals, it came as no surprise that Merewen had small treats to offer the beasts. With that one gesture, she won their hearts forever.

Olaf still hadn’t given up. “I told you to take your wound elsewhere. Lord Fagan will be displeased that you bothered his wife with the injury as well.”

Enough was enough. Murdoch was about to teach the bastard some manners, but the dogs decided to take charge. Both of them shoved their way between Olaf and Merewen, their ears back and deep growls rumbling in their chests. It would take a far braver man than Fagan’s captain to face them down.

He was smart enough to retreat even as he made one last threat. “I’ll be talking to your uncle about all of this, Merewen.”

Averel, always the last to lose his temper, joined his coursers in facing down Olaf. “Lady Merewen has done nothing wrong, Olaf. It has been my experience that the lady of the keep often serves as the healer. Either way, it is none of your business.”

“Her uncle—”

Averel’s knife appeared in his hand as if by magic. He began flipping it over and over, drawing Olaf’s attention in his direction. “Her uncle has more important business to attend to, Olaf. Right now he’s trying to decide how best to convince me to allow him to introduce my dogs’ bloodlines to his pack. If I were to refuse, he would be most unhappy to find out that it was you who convinced me I shouldn’t allow that to happen.”

Recognizing he was well and truly outnumbered, Olaf muttered a curse and stormed out into the night. At a signal from Averel, the dogs took up position right outside the door to make sure he didn’t return unnoticed.

Merewen let out a shaky breath and leaned back against her worktable. “Gentlemen, I am in your debt. Olaf gets worse every day. He’s always been volatile, but that wild look in his eyes is new. Perhaps it is my uncle’s influence over him, and some of the other men are almost as bad.”

Interesting. “So it is not just your uncle whose actions have changed?”

She ran her hands up and down her arms as if warding off a chill despite the warmth of the fire burning in the brazier. “No, the few remaining men who served my father are as they always were. It is only the ones who owe their first loyalty to Fagan who grow more violent and unpredictable.”

Averel looked to Murdoch. “This sounds like something we should report back to the captain.”

He agreed. “About the men who were loyal to your father. How many are there, and do you think they
would take up arms against your uncle if you were to give such orders?”

He liked that she didn’t immediately respond, clearly giving the matter some thought. The price for a wrong answer would most likely be paid in blood. Finally, she nodded.

“Most would, I believe. For certain, none of them have any fondness for Fagan and his men. I think the only reason they have stayed this long is many have family here. Otherwise, I fear they would all be gone.”

The hour was growing late, and the lady looked as if a stiff wind would scatter her across the ground like a pile of dried leaves.

Even so, she offered Murdoch a weary smile. “Now, let’s see your arm.”

He stood up. “My arm is fine. It was only an excuse to walk in without drawing Olaf’s suspicion. Give me a fresh bandage and Averel will tend to it. You should retire for the night. We’ll also see to your mare for you.”

That she didn’t protest only gave evidence to how tired she really was. She banked the fire in the brazier. “I was going to come find you both to let you know that Scim is nearly recovered from his injuries.”

So that was where she’d been. “That is indeed good news.”

As they walked out into the night air, Averel stepped in front of Merewen. “Let me go first to see if Olaf intends to cause you trouble with your uncle. If it is safe for you to enter the hall, I’ll send my dogs to fetch you. If it isn’t, we will all come.”

While they waited to hear, a movement in one of the narrow windows on the second floor caught Murdoch’s attention. A woman was watching them from above. Although she was too far away for him to see any real detail, he knew it was Lady Alina. When she raised her hand, no doubt she was acknowledging her niece, not him.

But perhaps not. Truly, however, he had no right to be wishing that she were as aware of him as he was of her. The woman was married, even if the man she was wed to was a monster. Murdoch’s own honor would not allow him to admit how powerfully their few minutes together had affected him. Certainly, he would do nothing that would call the lady’s honor into question.

“The dogs are coming. Sir Averel must think it is safe for me to return.”

Murdoch had been so caught up in staring at Alina that he’d forgotten Lady Merewen. To make up for his brief neglect, he looked down at her. “Would you like me to walk in with you?”

“I’ll be fine. Averel is inside, and I suspect the dogs will act as escorts as well.”

Then she softly brushed her fingers across his bandaged arm. “Are you sure that you don’t want me to check your wound?”

“It’s fine. Your lady aunt did an excellent job stitching it closed, and she cleaned it well beforehand using the soap you recommend. Either Averel or I will remove the thread. We’ve done it before.”

“I’m sure you have.” Merewen’s deep brown eyes saw far too much. “I suspect the five of you have borne far more pain and injuries than any of you would admit or deserved.”

Their story was not his to tell. If Gideon chose to share his truth with the lady, that was up to him. “We serve the gods, my lady. Now go before Averel thinks something is amiss and comes looking for you. I’ll see to the mare.”

“Thank you for that. I hated to turn her into the stall that way. When I realized Olaf was hunting for me, I had hoped to avoid him by escaping to the workshop. Obviously he found me there.”

“He will learn to keep his distance.”

If Murdoch had to kill the fool to make sure of it. Certainly if the bastard ever laid a hand on her again in violence, Olaf had better hope it was Murdoch who came after him. He would make the man’s passing swift. Gideon would kill him, too, but without such mercy.

“Good night, Lady Merewen.”

He waited until she reached the door of the great hall before heading toward the stable. Once he took care of the horse, he’d seek out his own bed. Just before he walked through the door, he allowed himself one last look toward the window.

It was empty. He tried not to think about how much that disappointed him.

A boot in the ribs was never Gideon’s favorite way to wake up. He glared up at Kane and tried to decide whether the man had outlived his usefulness, because right now Gideon wanted to kill him.

He rolled onto his back, shading his eyes from the sun. “What do you want?”

When Kane smiled, Gideon grimaced. Smiles were also something he didn’t like to see so early in the day. “I was just curious why you’re sleeping out here in the grass when you could have a roof over your head.”

“It was a nice night.”

Not to mention once he’d pictured Merewen sharing his pallet, Gideon hadn’t been able to face sleeping there alone. He gave up on getting any more rest and threw his blanket aside. At least standing up, he didn’t feel at such a disadvantage. Kane followed him over to the well where Gideon drew a bucket of water to splash on his face to vanquish the last vestiges of sleep from his mind.

Kane waited until he was finished to ask, “So, how long was the lady here last evening?”

Gideon ignored the question, preferring to ask a few of his own. “Was your hunt successful?”

His friend looked toward the mountains, his face settling into grim lines. “Hob enjoyed it.”

“But you didn’t?”

Kane dropped down on the bench by the door and stretched his legs out to look down at his dusty boots. “Not as much as I’d hoped to. We ran the trails together. Hunted some, enough to keep us fed.”

“That’s good, but I take it there is something you’re not saying.”

Kane seemed to be staring at something only he could see. Whatever it was, it haunted him. Finally he looked up again, his pale eyes tinged with a bloodred sheen. “That foulness in this land watches and waits.”

He finally glanced up. “Its song calls to my blood.”

Kane looked back at the mountains again. “I fear we’ve disturbed it somehow, drawing its attention in our direction. I’ve grown certain that Lady Merewen’s uncle is only a small part of why the gods have called upon us again.”

Kane’s dark words came as no surprise. Gideon sat down beside his friend. “Have you remembered when you’ve encountered this before?”

Kane’s hand touched the black stone imbedded in the hilt of his sword, the one he’d inherited from his grandfather. “No, not specifically, but eventually I will. Let us hope Duncan has better luck with his search. This evil grows in strength.”

His somber words hung heavily in the air, a shadow that dimmed the day and sent a chill through Gideon. How were they to fight an invisible enemy?

Perhaps there was one way. “If it becomes necessary, I will return to the river and ask for guidance.”

Not that he would do so except as a last resort. Sometimes the price for asking the gods for gifts could be too high to pay. If Gideon alone would incur the debt, he wouldn’t hesitate. But his life was linked too closely to
his friends; he would not risk causing them any further pain if he could avoid it.

Kane sighed. “We are not yet that desperate.”

Then he cast a sly look in Gideon’s direction. “You never answered my question earlier. How long was the lady here? At least tell me why.”

Gideon didn’t bother asking Kane how he knew that Merewen had paid another visit to the cottage. To him. No one was a better tracker than Kane. He would have spotted her footprints in the dust and tasted her scent on the wind.

“She came to tend to Scim’s injuries.”

Kane might not believe that was the whole truth, but for the moment he accepted the change in subjects. “How is that feathered scavenger, anyway?”

The gyrfalcon and Kane had an interesting relationship, one that wasn’t always peaceful. Over the years, Scim had been known to swoop in and rob Kane of his kills. The bird also took great delight in harassing Hob. Although Kane had his own ways of getting even with the falcon, Gideon knew his friend had been genuinely worried about the bird.