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

hall.
    Guy narrowed his eyes as he watched Vika
move smoothly toward the exit. He hardened his jaw. He would need
to find another way in which to see Morgana. But how? After another
moment, he, too, rose and departed the great hall, another plan
forming in his mind.
    * * *
    Robert had heard the rumors as well, of
course, but there was little he could do for Morgana without
destroying his clan. Aye, his conscience was sore. Aye, he worried
for her welfare. Aye, his dreams had been filled with her the night
before. And, aye, if things were different, he’d wed her with
little remorse.
    But. He was his clan’s only hope, and he
would not forsake them o’er a woman. No matter how gentle, how
giving, how lovely, how restorative, how overpoweringly desirable,
she was.
    He rammed the bottle of uisge beatha back in his satchel and mounted his steed. He was off to a nearby
holding to woo another heiress he’d learned of this morn. Mayhap,
if all went well, he’d return here in a few days’ time with a new
bride. And then, surely, the earl would release Morgana from her
prison.
    * * *
    Morgana sat crouched in the corner of the
dank, dark cell. Her breathing, harsh, and her skin, clammy. She’d
not stopped quaking since first smelling the odor of fetid meat and
spew, the damp must that pervaded the chamber. And her uncle had
not left even one taper for her.
    Her head flashed first one way and then the
other. All about her were the sounds of scurrying vermin feet.
They’d bite her, she knew, if they were allowed near her. And such
a wound could send her into a mad, foaming-mouthed fit until death
at last took her. She shivered.
    When the sound came closer, she swish ed her cloak across the floor, as she had been doing
all day, to try to keep the rats at bay. Thankfully, as it had the
many times she’d done so before, it worked again.
    Morgana ran her dry tongue o’er her parched
lips. Before the door had been slammed shut, and all light had been
extinguished, her gaoler had shown her where to find the bucket
that held water and a ladle from which to drink. But knowing that
the rats were no doubt taking full advantage of its bounty, she’d
relinquished the full of it to them.
    However, her thirst was now great and, if
the gaoler did not return before dawn to refill the bucket, she’d
be forced to take up a bit from the tainted container.
    She heard a low moan and the sound of
rattling chains coming from another chamber. Panic filled her
breast. “Mama!” she mouthed the word without realizing she'd done
so. There was something about this place, these sounds, that
niggled at her memory, that brought forth some hidden fear in
her.
    The violence of the sudden quakes and
shudders that took hold of her frame sent her reeling. She fell
hard against the two cold stone walls that met behind her, making
her bite down on the inside of her cheek and delivering a new wave
of searing pain through her system. The hurt sent the phantom fear
flying, but brought the misery of her circumstances back to her
threefold. Tears formed in her eyes as she gingerly returned to her
former position.
    Both the earl and the priest had taken turns
with the crop. Her back felt afire and she wondered if they’d
broken the skin; if blood had been let as well.
    ‘Twas her penance, this mortification of the
flesh, to cleanse her of her impurity. To teach her to honor the
Lord’s will and follow the righteous path. To wed the man whom she
had allowed to desecrate her.
    All at once, she heard a mighty scuffle just
outside her door. There was a brief, loud, startled-sounding yell
from her gaoler, a muffled thud , but then all was silent
once more.
    She heard the scrape of a key turning in the
lock before the door was flung wide. She squinted and blinked as
harsh light came through the opening.
    A tall, broad man stood in the entrance. The
glow of the torch was behind him, so she could not see his face. Robert! Joy filled her as she struggled to rise, but