Page 49 of My Warrior
Cambriahadseen it. The Gavin knights had never fought so well as they did under the lord’s painstaking hand.
“But ‘tis of little matter now, I suppose.” Katie sighed, wiping the dust from the table with her rag. “He’s off to the battlefield in two days’ time.”
Cambria’s heart skipped a beat. “The battlefield?”
Katie nodded. “He’s commanded a fortnight’s provisions for fourscore o’ soldiers.”
“Where are they going?”
“Oh, la, I don’t know, just that the lord bid me make preparations.”
Cambria’s mind raced forward as Katie left the room. Conflicts were numerous along the Borders—cattle raids and the like—but that was too large a company for a mere Border dispute. Nay, this had to be all-out war between the Scots and the English.
She moved toward the arrow loop a last time to peer down at her husband. He sparred viciously now with Sir Guy. His blade sparked against his opponent’s, and she shuddered as she thought of Robbie and Graham and Jamie facing the likes of the Wolf on the battlefield.
It didn’t take long for word to slip that King Edward himself had called Holden to fight. Cambria heard the servants buzzing about it in the kitchen. This meant that it would be a decisive battle. She dreaded what the outcome would mean for Blackhaugh and her clan.
Listening furtively in the passage beside the knights’ quarters, she learned that the men would be traveling north to join the king. As the knights emerged from the room, trudging toward the list for field practice, Cambria hid herself in the stairwell. Finally, thinking all of them had gone, she prepared to step from her place of hiding.
Passing by so closely that she felt the breeze of his movement, Sir Owen swept by her, unseeing, into the knights’ quarters and proceeded to sharpen his sword on the grindstone there. She released her captured breath and studied him through the crack of the door.
He wasn’t alone. Emerging from a shadowy corner of the room was an English serving wench. Mousy hair concealed her face as she sauntered up to Owen’s side, clinging to him, running brazen hands over his chest as he worked. Cambria nestled back against the wall.
The girl simpered, “I don’t want ye to go to war.”
“Don’t fret about me, Aggie. I’ll watch my backside.”
“I’d like to watch your backside for ye!” she said cheekily.
“I’ll bet you would, Aggie,” Owen snickered.
Cambria peeked at them again. She tried to get a good look at Aggie, but the girl had her back to Cambria.
“Why can’t I go, too, my love?” she pleaded, moving her hands around to the front of Owen’s body, stroking the bulge that was beginning to form beneath the waist of his surcoat.
Cambria was disgusted by both the tawdry display and the fact that she was watching it like a naughty child, but she was afraid to move lest she be discovered.
“Oh, Aggie,” Owen moaned, letting the grinding wheel wind down and extracting her hands from his body. “There will be time for this when I come home, and then, my sweet, you and I are going to be wed.” He curled a lock of her stringy hair around his finger. “This castle will be ours.”
“But how, Owen? I thought ye said the Scots bitch wiggled out of the hangman’s noose.”
The hair stood up on the back of Cambria’s neck.
“Shh,” Owen soothed. “Never worry. I’ve got a plan.”
”What kind of plan?”
“Holden de Ware isn’t going to survive the battle.”
Aggie gasped, and then giggled conspiratorially, snuggling up against Owen.
“Without him,” Owen continued, “she’ll be powerless.”
“Then ye’ll kill her?” Aggie asked with sickening zeal.
“There won’t be any need. I’m sure King Edward will see everything my way. My brother was to take possession of Blackhaugh. I took care of that obstruction myself. But they all believe the Scotswoman killed him. She’ll be hanged for it, and I, my dear, will inherit the castle.”
Aggie crowed with glee. Cambria felt ill.
