I find it odd for the Bruce to allow a lass under his protection to leave camp without a proper guard.”
“He doesna know I left,” she said, her tone unapologetic. “I needed a few herbs. I was returning when I heard you tramping up the knoll.”
Tramping? Bedamned the woman’s daring! “’Twould seem a fortuitous day,” he drawled. “My men and I are en route to meet with the king. ’Twill be interesting to hear our sovereign’s response to your claim.” Thomas glanced at his friend. “Cailin, how many weapons does she carry?”
“Counting the bow and arrows, eight.”
Thomas arched a brow. “Well-armed for a healer gathering herbs.”
“’Tis dangerous away from the encampment,” she stated, temper sliding into her voice.
“Aye, but nae for a mercenary intent on killing the king.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I told you my reason for being in the forest.”
“You did, a claim I find of great interest.” Thomas caught her wrist, stunned by the shock of desire he felt at the touch. He nodded to Rónán. “I will escort Mistress Alesone, if indeed ’tis her name, to the encampment.”
His friend released her and stepped back.
Alesone struggled against Thomas’s hold. “I dinna need an escort!”
“What you need is yet to be determined,” Thomas warned, nae pleased by the delay, nor by being saddled with this mule-headed woman whom he couldna trust. “If you continue to fight me, you will be tied and carried to camp. How you meet the king is your choice.”
Outrage flashed in her eyes. “How dare you treat me with such disrespect, you ill-bred lout! I am nae a criminal.”
“A decision I will allow King Robert to make.” Though beautiful, this woman promised to be naught but trouble. With a muttered curse, Thomas tugged her with him and headed toward the king’s encampment.
Chapter Two
With a muttered curse, Thomas pulled the reckless woman past the camp’s outlying tents, her blistering scowl trying his patience.
“Release me!” she hissed.
Thomas shot the lass a warning glare. “Mistress Alesone.” He kept his voice level as he strode toward the king’s tent. “One doesna shoot arrows at a warrior and then make demands.”
Alesone tugged hard to break free from his hold.
Enough. He halted, jerked a thin hemp rope from his pack, and secured her wrists.
She gasped. “W-what are you doing?”
“I believe,” he said, his voice dry, “’tis obvious.”
Lavender eyes narrowed. “I told you I wouldna try to escape.”
“A promise broken by your action moments ago.”
“This is ridiculous! One woman surrounded by several knights. I hardly think I present any threat.”
He scoffed. “Your skill with the bow, along with the wide array of arms you had concealed upon your person, tends to undermine that argument.”
“Your men seized all of my weapons,” she said. “And I do not appreciate being brought before the king restrained like a common criminal.”
“Continue to argue and you will find yourself tossed over my shoulder with a gag in your mouth.”
“An action you would sorely regret.”
Thomas resumed walking. “The only thing I regret is that I didna tie you from the start. As for your being freed, once the king has confirmed that you are indeed his healer, you will be released.”
Defiance flashed in her eyes. “A moment I shall relish.”
Thomas forced a smile. However much she irritated him, the lass was a fighter. She clung to her declaration with the tenacity of a beggar fighting over crumbs.
When they’d entered the encampment, he’d expected her to panic, petition for her release, and admit her claim of being the king’s healer a lie spoken out of desperation. Given Scotland’s turmoil, reasoning he’d understand.
With the Highlanders’ loyalty torn between King Robert and Comyn, the king wouldna be amused by the woman’s false claim; less so once he learned of her impressive ability with a bow. The precision of her shots, her confidence, and her daring bespoke highly specific training. Well he knew the time and dedication necessary to gain such skill.
Regardless of her insistence, she was more than just a lass trained in the healing arts. Whoever had sent her believed that with her beauty, none would perceive her as a threat. If nae for her warning shot, he might have made that error himself. It was a blunder he’d make sure she would come to regret.
As they passed several knights training with their blades, her steps slowed. “We are drawing notice.”
A hint of nerves tinged her voice, pleasing Thomas. Confident of an impending confession, he glanced over. “Nay doubt roused by your being a stranger.”
She leveled her gaze on him. “They know who I am.”
“Yet nay one comes to your rescue?” Thomas nodded at several knights he’d recently met at Avalon Castle before turning back to her. “A fact I find odd.”
Red crept up her face. “In truth, I arrived but days ago. I have met only a handful of those in accompaniment with the king.”
“Indeed?” he said with mock surprise. “Earlier you led me to believe otherwise.”
“As if with your treating me as a threat to the king’s life you would have believed anything I said?”
Bedamned, her spirit would impress the stoutest man. However, with the danger about, there was naught laudable about her presence or untruths. Somber, he resumed his stride, tugging her along.
“Enough! I came with you to camp with minor resistance. Release me now, and I willna tell our king of your reprehensible behavior.”
A slow pounding built in Thomas’s head. “Mistress Alesone, you are nae in a position to state conditions.”
She set her jaw. “We shall see how smug you are once we meet with the king.”
They would. Robert Bruce wouldna allow a woman to join him while on campaign. Except for Lady Katherine Calbraith: a woman so desperate for vengeance that less than two weeks ago she’d made demands of the king. That twisted tale had hurled Thomas’s friend and fellow Templar, Stephan MacQuistan, into a forced marriage where in the end, Stephan and Katherine had both found love.
After years of personal torment, Stephan had found happiness, which pleased Thomas.
He glanced at the woman. Regardless of her beauty, intelligence, or the way she made a man ponder more than a lingering glance, he didna seek a lass. Nor did he trust her. She was a fine example of how well treachery could be disguised.
However dangerous, life served wielding his blade for the king and the country held great appeal. Though he’d enjoyed Katherine’s wit and daring while he’d stayed at Avalon Castle, neither did he envy Stephan’s being sentenced to a wife.
Irritated his thoughts had strayed beyond those of duty, he stopped before the guard, more than ready to relinquish his unwanted prisoner. “Inform the king that Sir Thomas and his men have arrived from Avalon Castle.”
“Aye.” The fabric making up the entry scraped against the tent as the man disappeared inside.
Thomas glanced over impressed by her steely glare, halfway between outraged queen and one of the fae. “’Tis a surprise you didna plead your case to the guard.”
She stared straight ahead with cool disregard. “My words are