Plead Forgiveness (Loyalty Series) (18 page)

“I am well enough to ride him.”

“Nae,” Gavin said without hesitation. He then nodded
to Osgood.

When Osgood tried to lift her again, Apollo butted him
with his massive head. His next attempt, much like the first, failed as well.

Turning to Gavin, the giant declared, “Mayhap the lass
can ride the stubborn beast for an hour or two. He is a wee bit agitated at the
moment. And we will save time by having Lady Ella ride her own horse.”

Thoughts of slaying the stubborn horse danced in
Gavin’s head, but since that would only upset Ella, he conceded, “Aye, she may
ride him, but nae for verra long.”

Apollo was nudging Ella in a peculiar way, almost as
if he was checking her body for wounds. In a soft voice, she said, “Easy, love.
Be calm so I can mount.”

The horse was immediately soothed, then to the
surprise of all watching, he lowered his massive body to the ground, sensing
his master needed help mounting.

Nicholas and Gavin exchanged looks of stunned
disbelief, then the former asked, “Did ye teach him that trick, to lower
himself?”

Adjusting her position on Apollo’s back, she replied,
“Nae, this is the second time he has ever done it.”

Gavin asked, “When was the first time?”

“When I was with Gabriel and we were leaving
Greystone.”

Pondering this odd action for a moment, Gavin asked,
“After ye were whipped?”

“Aye,” she replied, as she looked out at the sun
kissed the horizon.

Seeing her reaction, Gavin pulled his horse close to
hers.

“I dinna mean to bring up a painful memory, only learn
why a horse would do as yers has done on his own accord. I believe Apollo kens
when ye are hurt, and in his own way tries to help ye.”

Smiling, he added, “He is an extraordinary animal. He
loves ye deeply, but he will only have ye for a short time. Then ye will ride
with me. I ken ye are in pain, and nae just physically.”

Ella knew he was right, but fought to conceal it from
the others as they rode away from camp. Her entire body hurt from trying to
fight off the man who attacked her, but it was nothing compared to the
knowledge that she killed not just one man, but many. Before today, she had
never considered how hard it was for a warrior to take life, but now she knew
the pain they harbored.

As they rode through the moors of Scotland, she
wondered if God would forgive her for taking the lives of so many. Eight years
ago, she took her mother’s life, and today she took the lives of six men. Like
a disease, solemn misery sickened her heart, leaving her trembling from its
wrath.

As the sun began to descend in the sky, Gavin was well
aware that her shield of composure was faltering. Over the last few hours, he
and his men watched her set a breakneck pace, driving herself by sheer will
alone. They believed the exertion of galloping headlong over the land and
putting as much distance as possible from the battle site, she was trying to
replace the feeling of despair with reckless abandonment.

Try as she might, Gavin knew she could not run from
the emotional heartache that lay beyond the surface. Exhausted, frightened, and
in pain, her self-control was crumbling piece by piece. He patiently gave into
her desire, allowing her space and time as he waited for the sign indicating
she needed him. This was beyond difficult for him, since he desperately wanted
to hold her close and ease her suffering.

Her world was shattering, Ella thought, and it was not
only due to her actions today. Unable to comprehend what she was feeling, she
looked over to Gavin for strength, willing him to pull her from this storm of
misery. Like a protective shield, in his arms she was safe. He was a colossal
warrior with a tender heart, and she knew she would love him until the end of
time.

The sign was given. The longing in her eyes, the plump
bottom lip quivering, followed by the faint whisper of his name. Quick as a
flash of lightening, he hauled her from her horse to sit across his lap, then
covered her with his plaid. She gave no protest, only snuggled deeper into his
warmth and rested her head upon his chest. When he felt her tighten her grip on
his tunic, he signaled to his men that he needed a private moment with her.

“What ye did today took courage I have ne’er seen in a
woman,” he began as he slowed his horse’s pace to a walk.

“And yer skill with the bow would rival that of my
seasoned warriors.” His voice was softer when he added, “The tribulation ye
feel is verra common, and happens to all warriors after their first battle.”

His soothing voice and Scottish burr reminded her of
the happiness she felt before her tenth summer. Thoughtful for a moment, she
then asked, “Did you feel this way after your first battle?”

“Och, ye have the right of it I fear.” He chuckled
remembering how he handled himself that day, then decided it might be an
amusing tale for her to hear.

“I was twelve when my father decided the time had come
for me to become a man and fight in my first battle. It was against Clan
MacElroy and-”

“You were too young to fight against grown men,” she
interrupted. “Was your father not fearful you would be hurt or even killed?”

From her outraged tone, he knew her spirits were
returning.

“Nae, my father believed that because his blood runs
through my veins, I needed to prove myself years earlier than the other lads my
age. And that if I were truly his son, nae harm would befall me.”

“Were you hurt in this battle?”

Smiling at the concern in her voice, he replied, “Nae,
most of the MacElroys dinna think I was significant enough to fight. They told
me they dinna kill children and to go run home to my mama.”

Giggling, she tried to hide her face in his chest.

Gavin lifted her chin, and in faux anger asked, “Are
ye laughing at me, vixen?”

“Nae, I would never. Please continue with your story.”

“As I was saying, nary would fight me. I kenned my
father was watching, expecting me to kill at least one man; so I bellowed the
Macleod war cry, which dinna sound very fierce from a wee lad, and lunged at
the closest warrior. The man I attacked must have thought I was mad. He was so
shocked he dinna even defend himself.”

Gavin paused and considered his words before
continuing, “I pierced his shoulder with my sword. After yanking the bloody
weapon from his body, he struck me across the face then threw me to the ground
and kicked my sword out of reach. When he raised his sword to end my life, I
knew I had to defend myself. My only weapon was a dagger on my belt, which I
used to stab him in the chest, delivering him a mortal wound.”

Her luminous eyes widened in shock and horror.

“I can still remember his face and expression as he
fell to the ground. I stood frozen over his body until Bowen shook me so hard
my teeth rattled.”

“Bowen?”

“He was captain of my father’s army, and continues in
that role, but is now married to my mother.”

Returning to the story, he said, “Bowen ordered me to
stay close to him throughout the battle, and by the end I had killed a total of
three men. When the other Macleods were celebrating their victory, I stood
motionless among the bodies of our enemy. Bowen told me later that I was
violently shaking, staring down at the dead, and wouldnae speak or move.

Ella took hold of his hand as she continued to listen.

“Many of my clansmen came over to me, as did my father
who grew enraged by my lack of response. When he struck me, I woke from my
stupor.”

Ella let out a soft gasp, but she did not interrupt.

“When I finally locked eyes with my father, he put his
hand on my shoulder and said ‘Ye made me proud today, son’. It was the first
time my sire every spoke those words.”

With wide eye anticipation, she asked, “What did you
say?”

Smiling, he looked down at her, and then confessed, “I
said naught to my father, even after he voiced his pride in me, his eldest son.
What I did do was retch all over him.”

Gavin laughed when he added, “I will nae forget the
look on the old man’s face, or how he cursed everyone and everything in sight.
His men were rolling with laughter, and on the way home each told me the story
of their first battle and the natural effects they experienced.”

Ella’s face was expressionless when she asked, “Is
that why you told me your story?”

“Aye, but I can see that ye dinna like it,” he said,
noticing her intense expression. “Mayhap I should have left out the part about
the blood and-”

“Nae,” she interrupted. “I am glad you told me your
story, but . . .”

“Ye are angry?”

“Aye,” she retorted. “Your father . . . I’m aware ‘tis
nae my place to speak of him, but . . .”

He smiled, readying himself to hear what she thought
about his father, then asked, “But?”

Her anger was unleashed.

“But . . . he was a vile . . . loathsome . . .
despicable man to . . . to . . . to make his son fight against men twice his
size. You could have been killed, and all he can say is, ‘ye made me proud,
son.’” She had lowered her voice and spoke with a surprisingly good Scottish
accent to imitate his father.

She concluded her tirade by saying, “Blast his black
heart! I am glad you retched on him. I wish he were here now so I could retch
on him.”

Gavin threw back his head and roared with laughter.

“Ye are a braw and bonnie lass, my wee warrior,” he
said as he cupped her face. Unable to resist, he then gave her a long, hard
kiss.

Over the next few hours, as they rode further into the
Highlands, the Macleods entertained Ella with stories about their first battle.
The tales were so amusing that tears sparkled in her eyes. After each man told
his story, she intrigued them with her questions.

“Since we have all taken a life, does that mean we
will go to hell?”

Gavin and his men were aghast, she noticed then
quickly added, “You do not have to answer that question. ‘Twas only curious is
all.”

The Macleods brought their horses to a halt,
understanding the importance of the question as well as the direction of her
thoughts.

Lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes, Gavin
asked, “Is that what ye have been thinking since the attack?”

Uncomfortable at first with the attention, she then
realized that the men surrounding her would not berate her ignorance. She
answered honestly, “Aye.”

“Nae, little one. We, and especially ye, will be going
to heaven.”

Being the most religious man in the group, Osgood
explained, “Sweet lass, I have had this discussion with many priests, because I
too was worried for my soul and the souls of my kin. What I learned was that
the commandment ‘thou shall not kill’ pertains to the deliberate act of murder,
taking a human life without justification.”

Seeing the uncertainty in her eyes, he added, “A justifiable
condition is self defense or to protect one’s own life or the life of another.”

Nicholas pulled his horse closer, then said, “Those
men made a premeditated decision to kill us, therefore we acted in self
defense. Mayhap, they dinna plan to kill ye, but they did plan to rape ye
throughout the return journey to England.”

All eyes were on the blond haired warrior as he
continued, “They wouldnae have tended yer back or any other injuries ye
suffered. Moreover, by the time ye reached England, ye would have been severely
ill. To escape blame for yer lost of maidenhead and illness, they would have
killed ye.”

She had showed such loyalty and trust that Nicholas
decided to reveal the painful truth about his own past.

“I am quite familiar with Roger Moreland and the
sadistic men in his army. My father sent me to foster with his father when I
was seven summers. For ten years, I witnessed and endured hell on earth. I
swear to ye, Lady Ella, yer valiant actions today will only send ye to the
kingdom of heaven, which will nae be for a verra, verra long time.”

Ella smiled at the Macleods. Their magnanimous efforts
to diminish her fears, through their stories and beliefs, touched her heart in
a way that words could not describe. Her anguish and desolation faded away like
an early morning mist.

“Thank you all for . . .” She stopped, unable to choke
out the rest of her words.

The hardened Macleod warriors were immensely pleased
with the result of their efforts. Normally they could not abide a woman’s
tears, but Ella tears were of a different nature. They only came when she was
touched by kindness, and not for the usual reasons women cried in their
presence. She did not want trinkets, jewelry or a vow of undying love. All she
craved was kindness, and it made her very special to them. She was a little
hellion, but like their laird, they too had become quite protective and
possessive of the lass.

Spirits were high as they resumed their trek across
the Highlands, and all were eager to return to Doran Castle. With only an hour
or two of daylight left, they quickened their pace, but remained silent when
the noticed Ella’s eyes begin to close.