He wanted to dismiss the possibility of any connection. Though he recalled how his friends and fellow Templar warriors, Stephan, Thomas, and Aiden, had learned after the fact that a mission their sovereign had assigned them held Templar ties.
Did the priest support more than King Robert but the Brotherhood as well? ’Twould explain not only why he lived in seclusion and his life was wrapped in mystery, but why he held the king’s ear, and why but a few knew of histrue identity.
From this location, regardless of the secrecy of the mission, ’twould be easy to pass word unnoticed throughthe Highlands.
He studied the cottage. Many things could explain the priest’s reclusiveness, the foremost being fear for his life after having covertly acquired Cailin’s father’s sword from Tiran Castle and delivering it to King Robert. He reined his horse into the clearing, keeping within the shadows cast from the trees. Regardless of his uncertainties, he knew one thing: Father Lamond had been loyal to his father, and a manhe could trust.
At the hut, Cailin drew his warhorse to a halt, dismounted, then lifted Elspet to the ground. She grimaced, but given his stubborn intention to care for her, she’d long since quit insisting on dismounting herself.
“I will knock. If he doesna recognize your voice, he willna answer.” She hobbled to the entry and pounded on the thick door. “Father Lamond, ’tis Elspet.”
A gust hurled a cloud of snow past. The breeze gentled, and silvery glitters of white spiraled in a slow cascadeto the ground.
Metal clunked and the door scraped open. A large hooded man, his face shrouded beneath a cowl stood at the entry. “Elspet?”
Though coarse with age, the deep, healthy boom of the priest’s voice caught Cailin off guard. Given the passage of years since his father’s death, he’d envisioned him as a frail, elderly man.
“I come with a friend,” she said.
The tall man glanced toward Cailin, paused, then shoved his hood back and openedthe door wider.
Except for strands of gray sprinkled within his hair, the tall, lean man exuded strength. Fire blazed in the cleric’s eyes, a potent reminder of the young man, years ago, who had first arrived at Tiran Castle and sermonized so passionately.
“Father,” Elspet said, “we come on an urgent matter. Let us go inside and I will introduce you and explain.”
With a nod, the priest stepped back. Once they’d entered, he shut and barred the door.
The scent of peat, onions, venison, and a mixture of herbs filled the air as Cailin’s eyes adjusted to the flame and candlelit interior.
Dried herbs were suspended from the ceiling bound in thick swaths, a large metal pot hung from a hook over the hearth, several aged chests were shoved against the stone wall, a plain rug lay upon the wooden floor, and several folded blankets rested atop a small bed on the opposite side of the room. On a nearby shelf, a handful of jugs sat haphazardly, along with baskets and numerous smaller containers hung from hooks onthe far wall.
“Father Lamond, may I introduce Sir Cailin MacHugh, the rightful Earl of Dalkirk?”
The tall man studied Cailin for a long moment, then gave a somber nod. “I bid you a humble welcome, Sir Cailin. I have beenexpecting you.”
He nodded. “Father.” With the priest’s close ties to the Bruce, no doubt King Robert had sent a writ that Cailin was en route to reclaim his legacy. A disclosure he should have anticipated.
Elspet glanced at the priest. “Expecting him?”
“A fortnight ago, your stepfather delivered a missive from…” The priest hesitated.
“King Robert,” she said, understanding shimmering in her eyes, “informing you that Sir Cailin was alive and would be returning to claim his rightful inheritance.”
The priest’s face paled. “You know of your stepfather’s loyalty to Scotland’s king?”
Shenodded. “I do.”
“Given the circumstances,” Cailin said,“I explained.”
Elspet touched the woven leather hanging around her neck. “After my stepfather’s visit, he wasworried. Why?”
On a sigh, the elder walked to a bottle of wine. He poured three glasses, handed Cailin one, then another to her. “With the Earl of Dalkirk determined to keep what he stole many years ago, Sir Angus was concerned for you, for your family’s safety in the confrontation once Sir Cailin arrived.”
The glass in her hand began to shake, and shebegan to sway.
Cailin caught her, then set her goblet aside.
The priest’s eyes narrowed on the strips of cloth binding her leg. “You are hurt?”
