Page 101 of The Forest Bride
There it was, the old rowan, just blooming in spring. Near that, he knew, crevices and small caves pierced the massive jumble of rocks that formed the sides of the gorge. Ahead, he heard the roar of the falls, though he could not yet see its white tail and deep pool. Shouldering the bow and quiver he had brought with him, he moved on.
With narrowed eyes, he scanned about for any niche or shadow that might be a cave. Walking along a rocky ridge, he saw Lennox exploring in another direction. Malcolm did not know the area well, but he knew Lilias. If the girl was here somewhere, she might venture out if she saw a man she knew and trusted.
And if she was in a cave near the waterfall, Margaret and her seeing-stone had a power that could not be denied.
The morning was cloudy, damp, breezy, but the rain seemed past, the sky pale and clearing. Thinking of the falcons, he remembered that Bran had mentioned taking the bishop and others out to fly the birds this morning, and had promised to head west with them, though that was no guarantee, for the birds would do what they liked. A flock of ducks arrowed overhead; their confident, noisy flight told him no birds of prey hovered nearby yet, ready to pounce.
He looked for riders too, aware that danger could come from the east glen and Loch Roskie, should De Soulis or Menteith ride out with men. If they came through the long glen toward the falls again, they might well head for Brechlinn. Were they searching for a gyrfalcon, did they want Margaret Keith, did they have Lilias Bruce? He meant to find out. But now that he thoughtabout where he was, and what he was doing, perhaps they too had been looking for the girl.
The waterfall and gorge, the river and surrounding glen belonged to Brechlinn and the Campbells. Now the land was largely uninhabited; most of the crofters and shepherds had been driven out by the same English troops that had tried to ruin Brechlinn Castle. Folk had gone to Crianlarich and Stirling, and even west to the Isles. Duncan hoped to see them all returning home one day.
As he climbed a steep incline, he saw an outcrop of rock that rose up like a rugged crown. He remembered conquering its height as a boy. Near it, he saw Lennox coming toward him. The man raised a hand.
“Riders coming through the east glen,” Lennox said. “I saw them from a height. They are far off, but if it is Menteith with them, we could have trouble.”
“Keep watch. If they come closer, we will get the horses and meet them.” They had left the horses in a pinewood while they went into the gorge. If Lilias was here, he prayed he could find her before any riders approached.
Every instinct he had told him she was here somewhere. He felt it with an odd sense of certainty, and had to admit that to himself. Perhaps, though he had never entertained the notion before, he had inherited something from his mother.
Margaret’s visions through the stone made him wonder about such things.
“I see no sign of a cave, let alone a lass,” Lennox said.
“Wrong or right, it is worth the search.”
“Aye so. I will keep watch from that peak if you want to continue looking.”
While Lennox headed for the outcrop, Duncan moved toward another rugged formation that he and his brothers had called their stronghold; the jagged inclines looked like a naturalfortress had erupted from the earth. He tracked through a narrow pass between slopes of solid, ancient rock, hauling himself upward by gripping points of stone as he went.
Everywhere here, rocks were coated in moss and wildflowers grew in profusion, thick mats of tiny pink and yellow flowers mingled with green leaves and vines filled the cracks between the rocks and cushioned his steps as he made his way upward.
Here and there he saw crevices and shadows, none deep enough for a cave. Above, Lennox stood silhouetted against the pale-gray sky. From up there, Duncan knew his friend could see the river’s course, the waterfall and glen above, and the narrow neck of the long glen to the east.
Reaching a fork in the natural pathway between the rocks, he paused to assess his next direction. He nimbly skirted a patch of prickly yellow gorse, his boot pushing and shaking the bracken as he went past. A bird flew overhead, and he stilled, watching. Just a wild hawk, hunting as it pleased. He moved on.
Something caught the corner of his sight—the gorse still shifted after his passing. About to step forward, he stopped, seeing a slight movement, a pale shadow.
For a moment he thought two eyes watched him through curtain of tangled dark hair, but as soon as he looked, they disappeared. Just a trick of shadow and light where a cluster of white flowers and dark leaves hovered. Behind that tangle was a low arched crevice. It was worth a look. He went backward a few steps and hunched down.
Something moved back there, he was sure. Not keen on prickly gorse, he took up a bit of broken shale and pushed the thorny bush aside, revealing an overhang of rock above a deep opening. He heard scurrying inside.
He hunkered down and waited. The air tensed, as if he was not the only one stilled and frozen there, barely breathing. It wasnot a hare or a fox, but something sentient—every instinct told him so.
“Lady Lilias?” he murmured.
Nothing. The wild hawk swooped past, far overhead.Kee-kee-kee...
“Lilias,” he said softly, “I am Duncan Campbell. Your father knows me. Malcolm Lennox is here too. We have been searching for you for days.”
After a long moment, the eyes appeared again. Dark blue, ringed in thick black lashes. A tangled mat of dark hair. A turned-up nose, pale cheeks scratched and streaked with dirt and tracks of tears.
“I do not know you, sir. Send Lennox to me,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
A king’s daughter indeed. “Malcolm, down here!” he called. Then he held out his hand. “Come out, lass. You are safe now.”
The morning broughta clearing of rain with light glowing through pale, cloudy skies as Margaret dressed, pausing to look anxiously out the window, hoping to see Duncan return. Agatha had left the room to go to morning prayers with the bishop. When Margaret had returned to the room, Agatha had been sound asleep, so she made a bed of blankets on the floor and slept a little before rising just after dawn.
But if she stayed here longer, she might not hear news of Duncan. Changing out of the blue gown she wore, she went to put on a gray woolen gown that Effie had found in a storage chest. The simple gown had snug sleeves and an embroidered hem, and she dropped a short sleeveless tunic of forest green over it. She quickly braided her hair in two thick plaits and let them drape over the front, the tails reaching the leather belt slung on her hips. Then she tied a creamy silk ribbon around her brow.
