"Stay away from her," Tristan growled.
Bruce returned his full attention to Tristan and frowned. "A son should not order his father in so disrespectful a tone."
CHAPTER 42
Strange was my life, but never was it so strange as when I stood in the room of my deceased mother-in-law dressed in my bridal gown while my husband and an acquaintance who proclaimed to be his father faced off against each other.
Bruce stood tall and straight as he looked at Tristan with an unwavering gaze. Neither of us could doubt his sincerity, but we could doubt his sanity. My eyes widened at such a proclamation, but Tristan's narrowed and he balled his hands into fists at his sides as he glared at Bruce.
"How dare you-"
"I dare because I know the truth, and the truth is that you are a bastard," Bruce insisted.
Tristan let out a roar and lunged at Bruce. This time Bruce didn't move. He stretched out his arm and caught Tristan by his neck. My laird and husband was held aloft in front of the man while his captor frowned at him. Tristan grabbed Bruce's single hand with both of his and tried to free himself, but Bruce's hold was stronger. My husband kicked and flailed, but could not free himself.
"Tell me, what do your senses say of me?" Bruce questioned Tristan.
"They tell me not to believe a were-wolf who has intruded on my territory," Tristan choked out.
"Then you ignore them. They tell you we are of the same blood, but if you need proof-" Bruce reached out with his freed hand and sliced open one of Tristan's sleeves with his long claws. In so doing he cut Tristan deep in his arm, and blood drizzled out of the wound. I rushed to the front of Bruce and grasped his weapon-like arm.
"Please release him!" I pleaded as I tugged on his arm. I caught his eyes with my own. "If you truly are his father you will free him!"
Bruce pursed his lips, but he did as I pleaded and opened his hand. Tristan dropped to the ground in a mass of flesh. I rushed to his side and grasped his shoulders as he sat up. Tristan rubbed his neck and glared at my guest.
"Leave my domain," he growled.
Bruce closed his eyes and shook his head. "Must I lead you by the hand along the path of truth?"
Tristan scoffed at him. "I know not your truth, but I do-"
"Be still, and watch," Bruce ordered him.
Bruce raised one hand and with his other he sliced open a wound on his opposite arm as he had done with Tristan. Blood flowed freely, and Bruce held the arm towards us.
"What does the blood tell you, Laird Campbell?" Bruce questioned him.
Tristan frowned, but I noticed his nostrils flared as he smelled the scent. I, too, smelled the sweet nectar of honey in high summer that was the scent of Tristan's blood. My surprise lay in the same scent being found in Bruce's blood.
"Your scent is the same as mine, but it is a mere matter of sorcery to change the smell," Tristan argued.
Bruce dipped a finger into the stream of blood and held out his digit to us. "Then would you taste the flavor? Would you have me carved me into a million pieces? Examined by a thousand witches? And then would you be satisfied that I am your father?"
Tristan stood and shook his head. "No, but I would have you examined by one witch," he suggested.
Bruce bowed his head. "Then I will submit to your trial."
Tristan turned to me and clasped our hands together. "Fetch Ciardha. I believe she is among the guests."
"But what of you?" I whispered as my eyes flickered to Bruce.
Bruce chuckled. "He will have no more to fear from me, lovely Andra," he assured me.
Tristan glared at him. "Do not speak to my wife as though you are familiar."
"But we are familiar, and I think of the name as very complimentary," Bruce argued.
I caught Tristan's eyes and smiled. "He once saved me from ruffians in front of the inn," I whispered to him.
Tristan turned to Bruce. "Is this true?"
"Do you doubt the word of your lady?" Bruce returned.
I pecked a kiss on Tristan's cheek that caught his attention and squeezed Tristan's hands. "I will return shortly."
We reluctantly parted, and I hurried from the chamber and down the passage. The entrance hall was still crowded, and all manner of people stood in groups or walked from room to room. I leaned over the banister and searched the crowds for the one person I wished to meet.
"Are you in search of me, my beautiful cousin?" a voice spoke up to my left.
I started and swung around to find Seumas close beside me. His face held his unusual grin, and there was a brightness in his eyes that I did not appreciate as he looked me over.
"You look stunning, my cousin," he complimented me.
"I thank you, but I cannot stay to talk. I must find someone," I told him.
I turned to hurry down the stairs, but he slipped in front of me and bowed to me. "Might I help?" he offered.
"No, that is quite all right. I am sure I will find her," I assured him.
"A 'she?'" he commented. I felt the color drain from my face as he raised his eyes to mine. "And who might she be?"
I grasped the railing to my left and stepped away from him. "No one of consequence, but I really must be going," I insisted.
I tried to step past him, but Seumas caught my left arm and looped his through mine. "I won't let a young lady in such obvious distress be left alone."
"And I tell you I am in no need of assistance," I reminded him as I tried to free myself, but his gentle grip was firm and unmoving.
"Do not be so difficult, my cousin," he scolded me as he led me to the top of the stairs. "Two pairs of eyes will more quickly find your lady friend than one." He leaned close to my face and I cringed away from the terrible smile. "Perhaps the woman friend concerns the gentleman in whose company I saw you just a few minutes before."
I shook my head. "I do not know-"
"Of course you do, but come, let us begin the hunt," he commanded me.
I recalled Tristan's warning of this foe who was wrapped around my arm. My own feelings towards him were ones of repugnance and fear. Tristan would not come to my rescue, but there was another who had promised help when I needed it.
"Leod. . ." I whispered under my breath.
Seumas straightened and moved us to the top of the stairs so we looked over the crowd. "Now where shall we-"
Hurried movement through the crowds caught my attention, and my heart thrilled as I noticed Leod rush from the dining hall. He paused for only a moment to look around before he noticed us at the top of the stairs. Leod raced up the stairs and bowed to us.
"My lady, you are needed," he told me.
Seumas frowned. "For what?" he questioned the servant.
"Aili the cook wishes to see my lady," Leod explained.
"Then we shall go-"
"Aili is most particular about who may enter the kitchen," Leod warned him. "And she will not allow a guest to see the kitchen in such a state."
Seumas' frown deepened. "I am sure-" I took advantage of his distraction to slip from his grasp. He tried to catch me, but my quicker reflexes and preparedness allowed me to avoid his hands.
I slipped beside Leod and smiled at Seumas. "Forgive me for not inviting you, cousin. Perhaps another time." I looked to Leod. "Please lead me through the crowd."
Leod grinned and gave a nod. We turned away from Seumas and hurried down the stairs. I chanced a look of my shoulder before we entered the dining hall and glimpsed a hideous scowl on Seumas' face.
We slipped into the dining hall and Leod led me to the dark corner opposite the entrance. There were fewer people there who could overhear our conversation.
"Is my lady all right?" he whispered to me.
I smiled and clasped his hands in mine. "Very much so thanks to you, but how did you hear me?" I asked him.
"My master has given Leod the gift of great hearing and smell," Leod explained.
"Then. . .then you are a were-wolf as well?" I guessed.
He smiled and gave a
nod. "Leod is, my lady, but that matters little. My lady appears to be in some distress. What is it my lady needs?"
My mission returned to the forefront of my mind. "I must find Ciardha, the witch of the moors," I told him.
"Then Leod can help you. Leod knows where she is," he replied.
He grasped my hand and guided me to the kitchen. We swept through the busy space with only a few hurried greetings to my acquaintances before we stepped out into the cool air of late morning. The cool air was refreshing after the stifling atmosphere of the crowded castle.
Leod led me across the short distance to the stables and pushed open the door. We stepped inside and beheld Ciardha halfway down the stables. She stood in front of the stall that belonged to Tristan's coal-black steed. Her hand was outstretched and she soothingly stroked the nose of the fine beast.
The brilliance of the morning light played tricks upon my adjusting eyes. I swore Ciardha stood before me as a fine woman with a beautiful but sad face. Her figure was full and slim, and her clothes fitted her tall body. The strange sight disappeared when Ciardha turned at our entering and raised an eyebrow.
"What is it?" she questioned us.
I hurried over and bowed to her. "Ciardha, Tristan is in need of your assistance. There is a man named Bruce who-" Ciardha started back and her eyes widened. I blinked at her. "You know him?"
Ciardha frowned and seemed to shrink into her clothes. "A very long time ago, yes, but what of him?"
"He has come claiming he is Tristan's father and bears proof of the scent of his blood, but Tristan claims the blood is-" Ciardha held up her hand.
"I have heard enough. Take me to them," she commanded me.
I led Leod and Ciardha to the chambers where we found Bruce and Tristan on opposite sides of the room. Bruce stood near the lit fireplace and Tristan leaned against one of the posts of the bed. They both turned to the door at our entrance. I noticed Bruce's eyes widened and his folded arms dropped to his sides as he beheld Ciardha.
Tristan hurried over to us and bowed to Ciardha. "A thousand pardons for pulling you away-" Ciardha held up a hand to him as she had to me.
"No long apologies nor explanations. I can tell you with certainty that this man-" she gestured to Bruce, "-is your father."
Tristan straightened and frowned. "But how can you be so certain after such a short perusal?" he asked her.
"Because I have always known he is your father," Ciardha revealed.
Tristan started back and looked upon her with bewildered eyes. "But how?"
Ciardha grabbed a corner of her worn garments and tossed them open. They unraveled themselves from her small form and dropped to the ground beside her in a dusty lump. She straightened and presented herself as an elegant woman of raven-black hair and a bewitching smile that I found very familiar.
"Because I am your mother."
CHAPTER 43
None could doubt Ciardha was the exact image of the figure in the portrait, Lady Briana Campbell, but with fifteen more years of age and more cares in her face. Tristan stumbled back. Leod caught him or he would have fallen.
"M-mother?" Tristan stuttered.
Ciardha bowed to him. "My son," she returned.
"Briana!" Bruce exclaimed. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. The excited man spun her in several full circles before he set her back on the floor and studied her face with shining eyes. "Are you some ghost come to soothe my weary soul or flesh-and-blood brought back by some miracle?"
Briana chuckled. "Neither, my love. I am flesh-and-blood saved from death by the power the goddess granted me."
"Then it is really you, Mother?" Tristan asked her.
Lady Briana extracted herself from Bruce's hold and moved over to Tristan. She cupped the bottom of his face in her hands and smiled as she studied his face. Her sweet voice was like a cool breeze on a hot summer day.
"My dear little son, how much you've grown and how I've longed to see you," she whispered.
"But why did you not come to me?" he asked her. He clasped her hands in his and searched her eyes. "Why did you hide yourself from me for so long?"
"Because I feared your father," she told him. She turned her face away and shuddered. "I feared he would make another attempt on my life and that the goddess would not grant me another chance at life."
Tristan's face clouded with anger. "Then he did try to kill you," he commented.
Lady Briana pursed her lips, but nodded. "Aye. He made a soup of wolf's bane of which I only drank a small portion before I realized the truth. I used the powers granted to me by the goddess to save my body, but my wish for life meant the power of the goddess left me." Lady Briana turned her attention to me and smiled. "But I see she has found a most worthy successor."
Tristan squeezed his mother's hands and shook his head. "But I do not understand. You lay inside the coffin as still as death. Father buried you within the vault."
"A trick of magic that none perceived. I escaped the coffin before they shut the lid and willed an image of myself in its confines. They buried nothing but air," she revealed.
"Then Father never-"
"Laird Campbell was not your father, Tristan," Lady Briana interrupted him. She looked to Bruce and nodded at the stranger. "He is your father."
Bruce smiled and bowed to us. "A pleasure to be properly introduced to you, my son."
Tristan frowned and turned back to his mother. "Then I am not the son of a laird?"
"You are," Bruce answered. "I am laird of much land to the west of here."
"But I am not Laird Campbell's son?" Tristan persisted.
Lady Briana sighed and shook her head. "You are not."
Tristan released her hands. He turned away and ran one of his hands through his hair as he stared at the ground. "I am not his son. Then what right do I to this land?"
Lady Briana moved to stand before him. She set her hands on his shoulders and leaned down to look into his distraught face. "The right of every good man to administer his justice over a land that has no master," she told him.
"And is in sore need of a master for I bring a message of warning," Bruce spoke up. "An arm of the Menzies clan comes to avenge their fallen comrades."
A dark cloud fell on Tristan's face and he frowned. "From what direction and how far off?"
"A hundred miles in the northeast. They travel through MacNaughton's land," Bruce informed him.
Tristan raised an eyebrow. "With permission?"
Bruce shook his head. "I cannot tell, but there is no army to meet them and the clan does not pillage. Their aim appears only to pass through to the core of your lands."
Tristan pursed his lips. "To what I once thought of as my lands."
I frowned and stepped up to him to look him in the eyes. "My laird, though your parentage has changed I know your heart has not. The people in the village and the countryside—your people-need you now more than ever before. You cannot fail them in their greatest hour of need."
There was a moment of pause before a small, crooked smile slipped onto his lips. He grasped my hands and pressed my fingers to his lips.
"My goddess, you do me a great honor by being my wife," he whispered to me.
I blushed and shook my head. "You do me a greater honor by being my husband, and at this time you must be my laird of Campbell Castle."
He gave a nod and looked to Bruce. "Can you confirm with your own eyes this army?"
Bruce nodded. "I can."
"Then the word of my father will be well enough for me," Tristan affirmed.
"A moment, my son," Lady Briana pleaded. "You cannot speak of your true parentage to anyone lest your subjects lose their will to fight for you."
Tristan frowned. "But they must be told."
"In due time, but not when there are more important matters to be had," she advised.
Tristan sighed, but gave a nod. "I will accept your advice, Mother, but what of your presence? They will believe you a ghost, or worse."
&n
bsp; Lady Briana smiled and stooped to gather the filthy rags. She took up the mantle of the Ciardha so that none, not even her son and lover, could tell she was the former Lady Campbell. Even her voice was once more the high cackle of the witch of the moors. "That, too, will come in good time, but after your enemies have been defeated."
"Then I will defeat them quickly with the aid of the goddess and return within a few days," Tristan boldly announced.
Ciardha shook her head. "That would not be wise, my laird. The goddess is newly given a body. If you were to press her powers both spirits would be at risk of death."
I felt the color drain from my face. "Then the power of the goddess will kill me?" I asked her.
"The goddess helps those who helps themselves," she tutored us. "She will assist in your fight, but she will not carry you through the day against an entire army."
"Then it is time we pitted the strength of my men against these invaders," Tristan replied.
Ciardha smiled and gave a nod. "Aye, and the goddess of the wolves will help you how she can."
Tristan turned to me and clasped our hands. He gazed into my eyes. "Will you be by my side, my love?"
I stood on the tips of my toes and pecked a light, teasing kiss on his lips. "Does that not answer your question?"
He chuckled. "Very thoroughly." He turned his attention to Bruce and his humor slipped from his face. "Will you swear before my lairds that what news you bring is the truth?"
"I will," Bruce promised.
"Then I will call them together and see to the matter of raising an army to counter this invasion, and together we will vanquish the Menzies clan forever," Tristan proclaimed. He looked to Leod. "Inform the lairds, Chamberlain, and the captain of the guards I wish for them to meet me in my chambers, and be quick."
Leod bowed his head. "As my master wishes," he replied, and hurried off to perform his important duty.
Tristan faced the three of us who remained in the room, and most especially Bruce. "We may be hard put to convince MacNaughton to allow a sizable force into his territory."
"Aye. MacNaughton will not be eager to hear my words," Bruce commented.
"He will hear them nonetheless," Tristan answered. "They will all hear them, and judge for themselves what our plan of attack shall be. Now let us hurry to my chambers or Leod's eagerness may beat our steps."
CHAPTER 44
We left the chambers of Lady Campbell and moved to those of my laird and myself. Briana disguised as Ciardha took a seat in the farthest, darkest corner to watch the proceedings, and we others stood around the fire. The first to arrive after us were the sons of MacNaughton, Duncan and Angus. Leod shut the door behind them and hurried off to fetch the others. The pair held tall mugs in their hands and their eyes were glazed over with a hint of intoxication.