Page 5 of Laird of Smoke
Adam had originally come here on a rescue mission.After his cousin Gellir was abandoned at the altar by his betrothed, the despondent bridegroom had headed to Perth, determined to fight for the king’s honor.Or die trying.
It was that second part that had spurred Adam to follow Gellir.
Adam had worked hard all his life to measure up to the standards of the Rivenloch clan.To be as dedicated as Brand.As fierce as Hew.As magnificent as Gellir.
In the end, he’d had to come to terms with the truth.He would never be as noteworthy or celebrated as his cousins.He would always stand in their shadows.
Eventually he realized the truth.By keeping to the shadows, he could better protect them.His weapon was his anonymity.A weapon he wielded with great skill.
This time he’d used it to keep Gellir from making a foolish sacrifice.
He’d brought along Merraid the maidservant, also disguised as a monk.He knew the lass had feelings for Gellir.Perhaps she’d help persuade Gellir to abandon his self-destructive fight.
Instead, Merraid proved her affections by joining the battle at Gellir’s side.Thankfully, she could hold her own.Trained by Adam’s sister, Feiyan, Merraid had considerable warrior skills.
As it turned out, she also had an impressive gift for words.She managed to scribble out for Adam a diplomatic missive, ostensibly from the Pope, meant to forge peace between the lairds and the king.
And it had worked.
Adam had delivered the message.The king was content.The lairds were mollified.And Gellir was out of danger.
All Adam needed to do now was destroy the evidence and tie up the loose ends.
Passing by a small campfire, he discreetly dropped the scrawled missive into the flames, where it was quickly consumed.
As far as witnesses, Gellir and Merraid were the only ones who could identify Adam.
He knew Merraid wouldn’t breathe a word.
And his cousin Gellir would never disclose his identity.Indeed, Gellir had aided him, taking Adam’s satchel for safekeeping while the “Pope’s messenger” handled the negotiations in the keep.
But as Adam brushed past his cousin to surreptitiously retrieve the satchel, he spotted an entire company of familiar faces.
Shite.
His whole clan was here.
Seizing the satchel and pulling his hood low over his eyes, he reversed direction and turned back toward the castle.
Damn.
A pair of puffing, red-faced monks were swiftly waddling his way.No doubt they wished to speak with the esteemed emissary of the Pope, hoping His holiness would rub off on them.
Adam angled again, striding off toward the forest so abruptly that he knocked someone aside.
A swift glance told him it was a wee figure in gray.
A second glance revealed it was a lass.A lass whose breathtaking face was instantly engraved on his mind.
He hesitated, intending to apologize, but unable to form words.
A third glance revealed she was a nun.
She opened her mouth to speak, and panic widened his eyes.
He whirled to make a hasty escape.
The naive King Malcolm had been easy to impress.A pair of awestruck monks he could handle.But a nun?
