Page 59 of Warrior’s Lady

Chapter Seventeen

"Why now?" Camden bit out the words. He clutched the missive in his hand. The bold wax seal of Robert II, King of Scotland, taunted him as he strode back and forth in front of his men at the gate. The king had sent riders with the orders to raise a force against the most recent army of English invaders.

Half the castle's warriors gathered in the courtyard at Orrin's command, armed and ready to ride. In the morning mist they appeared to be mythical creatures floating on a cloud, instead of men of flesh and blood. They would once again put their lives on the line for their king and country.

They were the best of men, honorable and true. Camden had no doubt that together they would drive the English back behind their own border. But at what cost to his own household? Would leaving half the warriors behind be enough to keep his people safe?

His men awaited orders. "Repairs to the wall will take at least two more days. I don't like it," Camden said with sudden violence.

"We don't have a choice," Orrin reminded him patiently. "You cannot ignore a summons from our king."

Camden's hand tightened on the missive. "What if this is a trick to draw us away from the castle?"

"The king's seal could not be forged without great difficulty," Orrin reasoned.

Camden frowned down at the bold mark of the king's authority. "It seems incredibly suspicious."

"Or it could be merely bad timing."

"The worst."

Orrin shrugged. "We could send everyone back to Lockhart Castle. The walls there are solid."

Camden shook his head. "It's too dangerous for them to travel with only half the warriors as protection. They are safer here even with the wall breach than out in the open."

Camden crumpled the missive.

"We are not defenseless," Orrin reminded him. "Even with the wall down, even with half our men left behind, we would still be a strong force."

Camden knew that was true. Yet he hesitated. "That is why the king relies so heavily on us. But that doesn't change the fact that with us gone, Lady Violet and Rhiannon are vulnerable."

"We could take them with us," Orrin offered.

Camden frowned. "Battle is no place for women." He continued to pace. "There has to be a solution."

"I will stay behind with them," Orrin offered. "Will that give you peace of mind?"

Camden's gaze shot to his face. "You would do that yet again?"

"If it keeps you from committing treason and from the hangman's noose," Orrin said with a smile that quickly vanished at Camden's dark frown. "I did not mean to—"

"No offense taken. I accept your offer to stay behind. With you nearby, I know what happened to Clara will not be repeated." He strode to his horse.

"Mount up, men," Camden ordered. He would do what had to be done. Yet a sense of impending doom pressed down upon him like a heavy shadow. That shadow darkened the dawn as the gates opened and he and his men proceeded south.

The sooner he rid himself of the English who violated Scottish lands and their way of life, the sooner he could return home, where he belonged.

The storms that had plagued the skies over Lee Castle finally moved on, and the sun made a weak appearance through the mist that refused to dissipate. The snow had started to melt, leaving patches of green and brown among the traces of white. Regardless, Rhiannon ventured out with Violet for archer lessons in the outer bailey. The silent shadows of Camden's warriors marked their every move.

Her body ached in unfamiliar places from last night's passion. Camden had been so passionate, yet so gentle when he'd touched her. How had he learned such tenderness when he had matured into manhood in the most hostile of situations?

Violet stood before the makeshift target, her small bow in her hands. She concentrated on the target, then let the arrow fly. The arrow hit the target this time.

"I did it." Violet's wide grin brought a smile to Rhiannon's lips.

"Excellent work. Try it again. This time aim a bit more to the right."

Violet skipped to the target to retrieve her arrow. She raced back to Rhiannon's side, then nocked the arrow once more. A study in concentration, she pulled back the bowstring, squeezed one eye shut, and carefully lined up her shot before loosing the shaft. She squealed in delight as the arrow thudded solidly into the target.