More than ready to erase her thoughts, she closed her eyes and succumbed to sleep.
* * * *
Hours later, at the slide of parchment, Cailin withdrew hissgian dubhand sat up, forcing the remnants of sleep from his mind. A fire blazed in the hearth, and Elspet lay unmoving on the small bed facing the wall. He glanced toward the hearth. A sliver of morning light slipped from beneath the cloth covering the window and fell upon the priest as he sat before the hearth.
The cleric glanced over. “I didna mean to wake you,” he whispered, nodding at Elspet, who still slept nearby, her face relaxed and looking impossibly innocent.
Cailin sat up and rubbed his face, the grittiness of his eyes assuring him that he could sleep several more hours, a luxury he couldn’t take given the situation. “’Tis time I was awake. I need to make another search of the surroundings to ensure nayone is about.”
The priest raised a brow. “Again? But you went out several times during the night.”
“Aye, and will continue to do so as long as Elspet and I remain here. Though I havena seen anything suspicious, with my uncle’s men in search of us, we are far from safe.” He paused. “How long have you been awake?”
“But a short while. I was gathering a few documentsyou will need.”
The gravity in his voice had Cailin shoving up from the pallet and crossing the room to join the priest. In front of the aged wood chest, a complex Celtic design was carved around a cross. Inside lay several rolled parchments, one of them stamped with King Robert’s blood-red royal seal.
Father Lamond lifted the one bearing the sovereign’s stamp.“’Tis for you.”
Cailin frowned. “King Robert mentioned no other documents than the detailed map ofTiran Castle.”
“Our sovereign decided that due to the dangerous travel, ’twas best to say naught until you arrived. Open it; ’tis proof to reclaim your inheritance.”
“I have proof,” he said, more confused. “The sword you recovered years ago and gave to the Bruce bears my family’scoat of arms.”
“Indeed, but this will end any questions of those who dare challenge you once you seizeTiran Castle.”
Cailin broke the seal. Wax snapped and red shards scattered upon the wooden floor. He unrolled the document and scanned the contents. His fingers tightened on the parchment as he lifted his gaze to the priest. “’Tis a writ bestowing on me the title of earl and the holdings of Dalkirk, signedby my father.”
“Aye. Before your father and mother were killed, there was deep unrest upon Dalkirk lands. Your father confided in me that something was greatly amiss. Livestock was being slaughtered, homes burned, and families killed. Several times, your father found tracks leading away from the crimes. Even with the help of his brother, Gaufrid, he couldna discover who was behind theviolent acts.”
“Of course not,” he scoffed, furious anew at his uncle’s black heart, “as ’twas my uncle who was behind the evil. Then, once I, too, was dead, Gaufrid could claim my inheritance without challenge.”
“Wisely, in case something untoward were to happen to your father, he drew up this document.” The priest’s gaze narrowed. “You need to know that your uncle was riding with your parents and me and several others during the hunt when the accidents occurred. Your father was horribly injured, but before he was taken to the castle with your mother, he confided in me ’twas your uncle who had attacked them. A short time after we reached the stronghold, Gaufrid came to me, visibly upset. He shared that both your mother and father had died, and due to your father’s horrible wounds, he had already made arrangements for them to be buried and asked that I say a prayer where they now rested.”
Images of standing beside his parents’ gravestones flickered in Cailin’s mind, and a fresh wave of fury surged through him. Aye, despising his brother and sister-in-law so, Gaufrid had even deprived his parents of a proper burial. Cailin ached to wrap his hands around his uncle’s neck, to watch as the life ebbed from the bastard’s eyes. “He will pay for his betrayal by my hand,” he hissed,“that I swear.”
The priest laid a hand on Cailin’s shoulder. “I shall pray for you, but naught will be easy about reclaiming your birthright.”
“It willna, but whatever risk it takes, I will prevail.” Jaw tense, he returned the parchment to the trunk, then closed the cover. “Keep this, along with any other important documents that I will need until I have defeated my uncle.”
“Aye.” Father Lamond walked to the hearth, ladled out a bowl of porridge for Cailin, another for himself, and brought them over to sit on a nearby bench. “Here, ’tis a bit of ground cinnamon.” The cleric stirred a pinch of spice into his food, then a touchinto his own.
Though not hungry, Cailin swallowed a bite of the warm honey-and-oat mixture, enjoying the taste of the flavorful spice.
Father Lamond ate several scoops, then lifted his gaze to Cailin. “You have grown into a fine man. Your parents would have beenproud of you.”
His fingers tightened on the spoon as he stirred the dark brown spice.
“You lived with the Templars after youwere rescued?”
“I found a life there, but then,” he said, realizing the priest’s source, “King Robert probably toldyou my story.”
He shrugged. “While talking about our Templar ties, he may have mentioned the fact.”
Incredulous, Cailin’s hand on his spoon stilled. “OurTemplar ties?”
“Aye.” Father Lamond’s gaze grew faraway. “Many years ago, I was of the Brotherhood and fought in the Holy Land. But during battle, I was injured. I was blessed to find a home, along with the title of priest and a post at Tiran Castle. A position offered through the Bruce’s influence.”
