Free Song of the Highlands: The Cambels (The Medieval Highlanders) by K.E. Saxon Page B

five years.”
    “My...my thanks, sire.”
    “ ‘Twas a boon that you chose my darling
Morgana to seduce. For I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for her
since she was no more than a babe. ‘Twas my fondest wish, after the
horror of her youth, that she would have the chance to be a wife,
have bairns.” He sighed. “Aye, ‘twas a boon for you, and a good
decision on my part to demand that Donnach take her from that
nunnery and bring her here to me.”
    Robert cleared his throat again and nodded.
“Aye, sire.”
    “Off with you then. You’ve a wedding to
prepare for, and I’ve six more subjects with whom I must meet
before supper.”
    Robert rose to his feet and bowed before
walking with a lighter step than he’d had in many, many moons out
the door.
    There was silence in the chamber a moment as
the King watched the young knight’s departure, and then he said to
the high steward, “ ‘Tis a fine thing, and only fitting I trow,
that Guy de Burgh sent such a heavy purse to pay MacVie's debts—and
the extra half I shall receive o’er the next years will aid in my
campaigns against the upstarts, eh?”
    “Aye, that it be, sire,” the man
replied.
    * * *
    “So, it all turned out well for you after
all,” Vika said later that night as she sat in Morgana’s chamber
watching the lady’s maid put salve on her cousin’s welts and sores.
“Tho’ if you’d only agreed to the match when I told you to do so,
you’d not have near the number of marks on your flesh that you bear
now.” Vika let out a loud sigh of frustration. “Did I not tell you?
My father can be quite cruel in his punishments.”
    Morgana kept her gaze on the older woman’s
ministering hands, but she nodded.
    “Ack! But enough of that. It turned out well
in the end.”
    Morgana swiveled her head and looked at her
cousin, one brow lifted.
    Vika chuckled. “Do not give me that look, my
pet. It did turn out well. You shall be wed to the man
you’ve pined away for these past sennights, and he’s had half his
debt forgiven by the King—and the other half he has five
years to repay!”
    Aye, Morgana thought, but for how long will
Robert remain hers alone? She’d seen too much of the ways of the
flesh here at court these past sennights to believe he’d stay true
for e’er more.
    She returned her gaze to as much of her
sorely-abused backside as she could see. Nay, she’d not ruminate on
such dreary thoughts. No matter what the outcome with Robert, she
was determined to remain cheerful, to enjoy her new life, and to be
thankful that she’d now be able to have the bairns she’d dreamed
of, but had given up hope of having.
    And who better to sire strong sons than her
mighty, virile, handsome lover—soon to be husband—Robert
MacVie?
    In some future time, when he left her bed
for good, she’d not break her heart o’er it. Nay, she’d busy
herself with other things that she enjoyed, like cooking and
raising her bairns, and she’d ne’er bat an eye at his wandering.
Not one eye.
    * * *
    ‘Twas as Vika was making her way across the
courtyard to meet her lover of the evening that a strong arm swept
around her waist and a large, gloved hand clamped o’er her mouth
and nose, nearly suffocating her. As the man hauled her into a dark
alley between the stone walls of two of the abbey’s inner
structures, she struggled to free herself from his grasp.
    This abduction felt too real to be a lover’s
game and her heart raced with fear. Would he slit her throat?
Strangle her? She redoubled her efforts to get free, but she was
fast losing consciousness. She hadn’t taken a full breath since her
captor got hold of her and her mind was swirling, her ears
ringing.
    But just when the soft ebon mist began to
surround her vision and she was near to swooning, he dropped her to
her feet, pressed her up against the wall—she started to scream,
but he stuffed a gag in her mouth—then jerked her hands behind her
back, bound them, and yanked up her skirts. When