A FIGHT
Conn held his horse's reins and leaned forward, pushing for more speed. His heart was thumping in his chest and his whole body shook.
Glenna? Where are you? Glenna! I wish I had told you so many things. I wish I had said I love you. Glenna...
He thought about the information he had pieced together. An inquiry from the guards who worked at the castle years before he had arrived had revealed that Alexander had a secret place, a bothy in the woods that he went to when he needed time away. It had belonged to an uncle of his, apparently.
I never knew he came from a family of herders and verderers. No wonder he hates us all!
Like most of the knights, Conn came from a noble family, the fourth son of a landed baron who needed no more sons to take over his landholdings. No wonder Alexander hates us all!
None of that mattered now though. All that mattered was finding Glenna. Before it was too late.
“Yah!”
He shouted aloud, encouraging his horse as they raced crazily through the woodlands. It was dusk and the path was treacherous. He knew any stumble from his horse could mean his death by sailing over forward, breaking his spine. However, he had to get there! He didn't even think about it.
The bothy is in the woodlands. Find the charcoal-burners' settlement and head east for half a mile, then turn left into the forest's midst. You can't miss it.
He recalled the description from Hamish, one of the oldest Guardsmen. He had known of the place from when Alexander arrived, remembering his uncle the woodsman.
There! Conn saw a place, just obscured by misted dark. He rode up. There was smoke drifting from the chimney. Someone was there. Without thinking about it, he threw himself from horseback and ran to the door. That was when he heard the scream.
“Glenna!” he roared.
He ran at the door. It didn't budge. He ran again. It buckled a little, but the hinges were still too strong for him. He was sobbing with frustration, desperate to get in to his love. The scream came again and then stopped, abruptly, in silence. He ran at the door again and then drew his sword.
“Glenna...”
He ran to a window. It was a stupid risk to take, climbing in through a window – he could easily be met at sword-point on the other side and be utterly defenseless against it. Still. He slithered in over the sill. And stopped.
Glenna was on the floor in her petticoat. Alexander was over her, on his knees, wrestling with the fastening of the garment.
“You bastard!” He roared it, falling on the man, sword drawn.
Alexander rolled sideways and came up on his feet. Conn fell forward, and felt a moment's desperation as he heard Alexander reach for his own blade. He struggled to his feet. Glenna scrambled backward, and then put her back against the wall, knees drawn up tightly to her chest.
“No!” she whispered. “Conn! Don't!”
Conn looked round to face her. He felt his heart ache, seeing her so afraid. Her oval face was pale, marked with tears and the tracks of blood across her lip. A purple bruise, livid and angry, splashed her right temple. That was when the red haze splashed across Conn's vision, obscuring everything.
“Alexander!” He roared at the man and ran forward, sword brandished high above his head. With a yell, he brought the sword down with a mighty stroke. It clashed into Alexander's blade, the force rippling up Conn's arm and into his injured elbow, making him inhale sharply.
Then he raised his blade, hurriedly, as Alexander raised his own. Circling, eyes narrow and focused, his opponent studied him a moment. Then he feinted left, moved right and brought the blade down in a whistling cut that raced for Conn's head.
“No!” Glenna's scream tore through him as he raked his own blade upward. Her alertness saved his life as he blocked the blow and the blades rang together, striking sparks.
Alexander struggled with him, eyes wide and furious as he pushed his blade down and then sprang back, breaking out of the lock. He thrust forward then, striking like a snake. Conn whistled with surprise as the blade raked across his chest.
“Conn...” He heard Glenna whisper his name, an agonized whisper, and he couldn't risk looking at her, losing focus. He stepped sideways and back and then he had his back to her, facing Alexander, who had circled round, putting the window at his back.
Conn stepped back again, moving to stand before the fire. His heart thumped and he could barely stand, so tired was he from the ride, the tension and the fight. Nevertheless, he had not a moment to rest. He surged forward and struck, then moved back as Alexander ran at him.
Blows rained down, the great sword swinging in a scything arc that could have cut Conn in two if he hadn't been desperately blocking the blows himself, meeting strike for strike and parry for parry in a fight that was taxing him to the end of his resources and demanding every ounce of his strength.
He heard Alexander let out a roar as he raised the sword in a huge arc and Conn reached up to block it. That was when he slipped.
He felt his right leg go out when he stepped into a hole in the earthen floor. He fell, amazement turning to horror inside him as the blade arced down, aiming for his head...
Then went left, and sideways as, with a look of utter horror, Alexander fell forward and sprawled full-length onto the packed earth of the floor.
Conn scrambled back, unsure of what had just happened. Alexander grunted and got to his feet. It was then that Conn saw Glenna. Her face white, she brandished a warming-pan in both hands. Her tear-streaked cheeks were pale under enormous gray eyes as she looked down at the floor. As Alexander rose and swayed on his feet, Glenna dropped the pan.
Conn heard her sob and then he was focused all on Alexander as he swayed again and then turned, hissing, sword lifted high.
Conn raised his and Alexander fell to one knee, stumbling with a dazed air.
“Finish it, boy!” he said dully. “Go on! You man enough to kill, eh?”
Conn sighed. “I'm man enough not to have to,” he said quietly. “Put down your blade.”
Alexander looked up at him, jaw working. Then he snarled and threw the blade down on the straw-covered floor. “You've humiliated me, you and your witch,” he said with a hard, cold voice. “Just finish me off now. It'd be a mercy in the face of this.”
Conn sighed. “I don't kill except in war or self-defense,” he said. He kicked Alexander's blade out of the way, and then sheathed his own. “Stand up, man.”
Alexander sat down heavily instead. He looked up at the ceiling. “Go,” he said quietly.
Conn frowned.
“Just go!” the man shouted. “Go on! Out! Leave me.”
Conn nodded. He kicked the sword across the floor, trying to move it far enough back for the retrieving of it to take time. Then he turned to Glenna. “Come on,” he said. “Let's go.”
Glenna seemed frozen to the spot. She stared at Conn dully. “But...” she whispered. “But...”
“Come on, dearest,” he said gently. “Let's go home now.”
He took her wrist and she flinched as his fingers closed around it. Seeing fear in her eyes made Conn almost turn and finish Alexander off, the black rage swelling within him again. Then he sighed and, keeping his hold on her wrist, led her out. “Quickly, my dearest,” he whispered. “Let's go.”
He led her to his horse and bent, making a stirrup of his hands. “Step up,” he said gently. “I know you can ride well.”
Glenna shook her head, but did as he suggested, stepping up onto his hands and throwing her leg over the saddle. She moved slowly, like someone frozen in a winter's snowfall might. He heard the door to the bothy fly open, the sudden snap as the handle hit the wall. Then he was swinging up onto the saddle and riding away hastily.
“Oh...” Glenna was murmuring. He held her as she sobbed, his arms around her waist as he held the reins before her, the warmth of her body conforming to his own. He could feel her pressing against him, warm, smooth and soft, and wished that these were other circumstances. However, he had to accept that they were as they were. She was likely afraid of him now.
Damn Alexander! He wanted to spit.
However, it was enough. He had Glenna in his arms. He could smell the sweet floral odor of her hair, pressed against his nostrils. Her body conformed to his as they rode, pressed tight together. She was here, safe, with him. He was content with his lot.
They rode on through the woods in silence. To his surprise, they heard no sound of pursuit. If Alexander planned any revenge, he was not intent on taking it today. They rode unmolested along the paths into the night.
Glenna was sobbing as they rode. He felt her body trembling in his arms and fought the urge to hold her close.
As they followed the path out and the first view of the castle came into sight, its great gray walls just visible against the dusk blue sky, she stopped crying.
“My dearest,” he murmured into the silence. “You saved my life,” he added. She had. He might have rescued her, but she had certainly returned the favor. “If you had not stopped him, I would be dead now.”
“No...” Glenna whispered. “Not...I don't want to think of it.”
Conn nodded. He kept silent as they followed the long road toward the city gates.
As they reached them, traveling at a walk, Conn realized with some alarm that Glenna had on only her under-dress. He could feel every inch of her pressed against him, from the slight bumps of her spine to the roundness of her hips. He sighed, gritting his teeth to stop himself from wanting her.
“My dearest?” he whispered.
“Yes?”
“Should we stop at an inn this night?” He knew of at least one beyond the direct precincts of Edinburgh. If they rode into town dressed as they were, they would likely attract all measure of the worse kind of attention. If they stayed the night at an inn, they had the chance of procuring some proper dress.
Glenna nodded. He felt, rather than saw, the motion of her head as she moved in his arms. “Yes,” she whispered softly. “Let us go.”
Conn racked his brain, trying to recall the direction to the inn. It couldn't be too far from there, he believed. He remembered and turned right, heading along the winding roadway that led through the town and linked, eventually, the city center and the hilltop fortress together.
“Yes, my dearest,” he whispered soothingly. “Let's go.”
At the inn, he held the horse while Glenna slid wearily from the saddle. She stood against the horse's flank, shivering as she sobbed softly. Conn reached out to her, the sound twisting in his soul. “Let me carry you,” he whispered.
She tensed almost at once, but then leaned against him and nodded. “Very well,” she said.
Feeling guilty, as if his base hand should not touch such a beautiful woman, he bent down and lifted her, cradling her gently to him. Heavens! But she weighs nothing.
He carried her into the inn.
“Oh! Poor lady!” the innkeeper's wife ran up, almost as soon as they'd entered the place. “Come! Bring her in.”
Conn sighed, nodded, and let the woman lead them up the stairs. In his arms, Glenna was asleep – or seemed to be. Her eyes were closed, her lips a thin line, head lolling a little as he carried her up. He knew her well enough to know she was alert, could feel the tension in arms and legs well enough to know that she was fully-awake as she lay against him.
“Put here in here, poor lady,” the innkeeper's wife was saying. “On the bed. There you are.”
Conn laid Glenna down very carefully on the bed.
“Now you leave her here and go and find my husband,” the innkeeper's wife continued. “He'll take your particulars and find you somewhere to sit at dinner. Leave the lady with me.”
Conn nodded and went downstairs mutely to the front room, where the innkeeper's husband soon appeared. He greeted him and they settled payment of the chamber – Conn fortunately had brought some means with him – and discussed the prospect of dinner. Conn thought it would be better to take something up to Glenna where she was. The innkeeper agreed and provision was made.
It was only later, once he had settled the payment and was awaiting Mrs. McAfferty to bring the soup upstairs, that he realized he had only booked one chamber.
He sighed. He tiptoed up the stairs and into the room, not wanting to disturb Glenna. He opened the door. She was lying on the bed almost exactly as he had left her. She was covered with a blanket though, and her lovely face faced the door. Her eyes were closed.
“Glenna?” Conn whispered.
She said nothing and this time he could see her sweet lips parting as she breathed a slow, full rhythm that betokened sleep.
Conn sighed. He tiptoed to the chest for storing clothes and settled himself on it. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. A long sigh escaped him and he collapsed forward slightly, his whole body encased in a sudden heavy weariness.
His whole body ached. His eyes were lead-weighted with tiredness. Every inch of him was cold and shivering from the exertion, exhaustion and riding in the woods without a cloak.
Nevertheless, he was relieved.
Glenna was safe. She was here with him. Moreover, Alexander was at least temporarily no concern for them.
It was a start.