“What are these for? Are ye going to wage war?”
James glanced up from his whittling. “Nay, I was bored and had nothing to do. Take them and give them to the younger lads to practice with.”
“Nay, I cannot. What is this?” Grey picked up a stack of parchments tied together to make a book. He thumbed through the pages and frowned at the images.
“Ah, my drawings.” He looked back at his whittling.
“Christ Almighty, James, they’re horrible. Why’d you draw them?”
“They’re wounds I’ve seen or tended. I don’t know, Grey, they’re just descriptions of what I’ve seen and I wanted to remember them. What do you want?”
“I’ve just spoken with Emlyn.”
James glanced at him briefly before turning his attention back to the piece of wood he held. “Aye, she’s still here? I would’ve thought she’d left that night and was halfway back to Wales by now.”
Grey sat astride the chair and leaned against the back. “Do I have to explain women to you, James? I deem you might need some aid.”
“Nay, don’t bother, Laird.”
“Will you cease doing that and look at me?”
James set the wood aside and ran his hands over his face. “What?”
“She insists I take her home and I wanted to ensure that’s what you wanted, but I see from your reaction … Never mind. She’ll be gone in the morn, if you care to do anything about it.”
“That will suit me well, for the sooner she is gone the sooner I can forget her. I am finished with her.”
“Is that what you really want?”
James shrugged and then shuffled to the edge of the cot and leaned on his knees. His face was riddled with confusion and anger, and Grey had never seen his friend so full of woe.
“Look into my eyes, for she’s slayed me. All I wanted was her and I can’t have her. Aye, she wants to support her father. I don’t see why you shouldn’t honor her request. We should’ve never aided her to begin with. It was a wasted effort on our part.”
Grey saw the anguish and hurt in his friend’s eyes. “You love her.”
James scoffed. “Cosh, mayhap I do, but what have I to offer her now? I can no longer be a guardsman for I can’t even walk ten feet without excruciating pain. Hell, I can’t even be a fucking farmer as my da willed. I’m nothing and even if she wanted me, I wouldn’t put her in such a position. As much as I love her, I won’t be selfish. I need to let her go. It is over.”
“That’s the most load of manure I’ve ever heard you speak.”
“’Tis the truth, Grey. Now leave me be.”
“Do ye plan to sit here for the rest of your life and whittle arrows, draw gruesome images, and hide from everyone? You have a life, James, and will, and can be a guardsman again.”
James shuffled back to his sitting position and glared at him. “Nay, I cannot. Look at me, Grey, I’m akin to a cripple. For God’s sake, I can’t stand for more than five minutes. I won’t endanger you or your family.”
“I vow your father was right. You are one of the most stubborn Gunns in our clan.” Grey turned and left him before he said a few harsh sentiments that would further hurt his friend.
He stood outside the garrison, his chest rising with his aggression. The two of them would drive any person to drink and that’s exactly what Grey needed after his discussion with James and Emlyn.
Throughout the rest of the night, he sat quietly in the hall, sipping at the brew that usually sent him to cheer, unwilling to speak of his thoughts. Bree tried to make him laugh a few times, but he asked all to leave him. He couldn’t be around his children when he was in such a mood, for he didn’t want to upset them.
Morning came, and he kissed Bree farewell. As soon as he collected Emlyn from the cottage, he walked toward the gatehouse where Gordy awaited with a handful of Gunn soldiers. He refrained from speaking to the lass, because if one word was uttered, he’d likely make her weep with his harsh affront. She walked beside him, carrying one satchel which seemed heavy for she could barely lift it. He wasn’t about to aid her for his anger caused his chivalry to flee.
“Good morn, Laird. Are we to the Ross’ keep?” His young commander-in-arms stood smiling.
“Aye, but I’ve another task for you, Gordy. Take this missive to Sean and only give it to him. Make haste, for he needs to receive it at the soonest. Take a few men with you. These men can travel with me to Donal’s.”
“I’ll leave this minute.” Gordy whistled to several men standing nearby. “Get your horses, men, I need ye to come on an errand for our Laird.”
Grey, appeased that task was done, took Emlyn’s satchel from her and scowled when he felt the weight of it. He tied it to her horse and hefted her upon it.
“Laird Grey, will you not speak to me?”
“Nay.” He nudged his horse and set off. Grey was thankful Donal’s was only about a day’s ride. Within a short time, he would rid himself of the lass and try to put back together his friend, if that was even possible.
Along the trail to Donal’s, Grey kept a quick pace. He tried not to think of his conversation with James, but it kept repeating in his mind. Donal’s keep came into view and he let out a relieved sigh. Step one in setting to right these woeful matters …
“Grey, what brings … you here?” Donal stood on the keep’s steps and his face fell when he spotted Emlyn.
“I’ve come to seek your aid.”
“This is not a good time, for the king is in residence.” Donal turned and shot a glance at the door to the keep, and then returned his gaze.
“Good, I wish to meet with Alexander. Come along, Emlyn. You can explain this entire affair to our king.” Grey knew he was being a wee bit stern, but the lass deserved it. She’d destroyed one of his guardsmen and warranted no less.
They entered the keep and Grey approached Alexander. He bowed and waited until the king bid him to rise.
“Grey, my comrade, I am glad to see you.”
“You won’t be for long, Alexander. May I present Princess Emlyn, daughter of Llywelyn, Chieftain of Iorwerth?”
Alexander stood, his tall body looming above Emlyn. He took her hand and raised it. “My lady. So it is true, you absconded with the Gunns when you were supposed to be betrothed to Marshall.”
“Aye.”
She said nothing more, and Grey thought she might be intimidated by their king. Then he changed his mind when she curtseyed and withdrew her hand.
“I did abscond with them and would do it again.”
The king waved her to be seated, but Emlyn continued standing. Grey pulled Donal back when he was about to intrude. “Nay, let her answer for herself.”
Donal scowled at him, but nodded, and returned to his side. Grey noticed his king’s affront, and would’ve enjoyed it if the lass hadn’t done the same thing to him. There were only two reasons Grey put up with the man: one, he was his king, and two, because his wife was related to him and he had no choice but to accept him as a distant family member.
“You disobeyed your father and decided to refute the betrothal he set in place?”
Emlyn raised her chin. Grey understood how James fell in love with the lass, for she was verily courageous and beautiful. Her eyes remained on the king and she showed no fear whatsoever.
“My father bid me to thwart the betrothal and he asked me to ensure I was not given over to Marshall. I was able to gain the Gunn’s aid and here I am.”
Alexander glanced at him and Grey nodded to assert what she said as the truth.
“Did you attire yourself as a princess to have Marshall believe you were not the warrior woman he was told he would be betrothed to?” Alexander chuckled, and cleared his throat.
Grey could see the look of humor in his king’s eyes, but Alexander quickly changed his expression to one of interest.
“I did. A traitor had told him of me and that is the only reason Marshall wanted me. I pretended to be a coy lady in hopes that he would return me to my father.”