Free The Outcast Highlander by R.L. Syme

Berwick and find that something has happened to your father, they may be able to search out what has happened without raising suspicion, if there is any to be raised. It is only fair that I should help you, after you have helped me.”
    “We would be most grateful, my lord.” Reyf addressed Duncan with a small bow. He spoke before Kensey could manage a retort, and he gave her a look that mirrored one her father would have, silencing her.
    “I will return home and send Malcolm at once. And he will report directly to you.” Duncan took Kensey by the arm, but she followed him on less than steady feet. Malcolm responsible for speaking to her father? She didn’t like that option for some reason. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why.
    But Duncan and Reyf already twittered away about the details and Kensey just allowed them to pull her along. She wasn’t certain how things spiraled out of her control so quickly, but she hoped and prayed that Malcolm would be discreet, or she might find herself a nun when her father returned.
     
    ***
     
    Malcolm Sinclair arrived in the great hall nearly a week later to greet Kensey, with the dirt of several days’ ride still on him. He’d dressed in a warm green gardecorps fitted long over his tunic and appeared more as a page than a gentleman. Perhaps that had been his intention.
    Reyf grasped Malcolm by the elbow in greeting and inclined his head to his better. Kensey kept behind her father’s steward, almost hiding. But Malcolm’s eyes sought her out.
    “You made good haste,” Reyf said.
    “I had hoped to return faster.” Malcolm held Kensey’s eyes. A heat behind his gaze warned her to take care, though he kept his distance
    “Please tell me you have news of my father.”
    The hall began to fill with people. Robert, several of her father’s warriors, most of the servants. Kensey only hoped Ete could keep her mother above stairs. The last thing they needed was Gabrielle attempting to over-exert herself.
    “It took me some time when I reached Berwick to discover your father,” Malcolm began. He stepped forward and took Kensey’s hands.
    “And what did you find when you did?”
    “Are your mother or your brother around?” asked Malcolm.
    “You can tell me and I will choose how to tell them,” insisted Kensey. Reyf stepped to her side and cleared his throat. The sound echoed through the hall and several of the audience began to whisper.
    “Your father did arrive in Berwick.” Malcolm grasped his hands behind his back and stood straight. “He went to the Guardians first, to seek out their intentions, and found that they had already sworn their fealty to the English king.”
    “I thought as much,” Reyf interrupted. “Sutherland and Ross, no doubt. And Sinclair, too? Even Moray?”
    “There were one or two nobles who decided not to make the promises that Edward was requiring of them. The king reprimanded them harshly. One man, a friend of my brother’s, was even whipped. And in the end, all lords were required to show submission, and granted their lands back to us as a prize for our cooperation.”
    “And my father?” Kensey pushed, the worry escalating beyond what she could tolerate. Malcolm’s story certainly wasn’t ending quickly, and it didn’t appear to be heading to a happy conclusion.
    “Your father followed de Moray in refusing to surrender. But de Moray’s brother is clergy, and begged for his brother’s clemency. So when your father would not swear his allegiance to the king…” Malcolm stopped. His stance went from the proud, straight back of a confident man to the slumped cowering of a frightened animal.
    “Oh, by God’s beard, Malcolm, whatever it is, I must know it.”
    “Edward had your father imprisoned for treason.” Malcolm exhaled a long breath, as though expelling all the badness with the news would somehow purge him of having taken part in the reporting.
    “Treason?” Kensey gasped. “In Berwick?”
    “For now.”
    “Did