Page 91 of The Guardian's Bride
“That was why I hurried here. One of my crew said they saw a woman on board. Blue gown, dark hair. They thought they recognized Rowena.”
Aedan swore. “Is your ship ready to leave? Patrick, can you sail with us?”
“I can. If wrongdoing was done in my sheriffdom, I have authority to go after these fellows with you. I can bring some guards with us.”
“Good. Quickly, aye? Father Abbot, can my son and his aunts stay here until we return? I cannot send them to Castle Black now and we have no time to stop at Bass Rock until we find Rowena. I will be back as soon as I can.”
“Of course, they are welcome here,” the abbot said. “Go!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Weary, sick, andfrightened, Rowena hardly remembered sailing over the firth, the sleeping potion strong enough to keep her dozing fitfully. By the time she felt more alert hours later, the galley was sliding into a busy port beneath a castle that overlooked the horseshoe curve of a broad river. Berwick-upon-Tweed, she heard someone say. There were several men on the galley—Malise, Hugo, Abernethy, soldiers, oarsmen.
Where were they taking her? Berwick was just above England, and three hours or more from Fife, but she had hardly been aware of the time that had fled past.
Aedan! Colban! Where were they, what had happened? She vaguely remembered being in the church at Dunfermline, and remembered Colban running out, and Hugo approaching her. But she had lost the rest. Confused, she looked about, relieved to see that Aedan and Colban were not on the galley with the others. Setting a hand to her chest, she felt the crystal, safe on the silver chain Aedan had given her.
She felt sick and dizzy, and leaned back, her hair blowing about in the sea breezes. Then Malise approached, taking her arm without a word to march her down an angled platform to the stone quay. Glad to be off the boat, she soon quailed as she realized he was leading her to yet another boat, a smaller one. She dragged back.
“Do you need another dose of Hugo’s tincture? Do as you are told,” he said.
She did, knowing his threats were real. Soon several men joined Malise, and the oarsman began to pull the smaller longship out into the river.
Sir Peter Abernethy had guided her to a cross-board and sat beside her. “This is the River Tweed. Up there is Berwick Castle.” He pointed to a castle on a hill overlooking the waterway. Then, with a curt apology, he tugged at the knotted ropes around her wrists to make them secure. She leaned back against the stern of the boat and he tucked her cloak around her. He stood.
“Do you want some ale?” he asked.
“Please.” Her mouth was dry, her voice hoarse. “Where are we going?”
“Carlisle Castle. The king wants to see you.”
“But he is at Lanercost,” she protested.
“Not any longer.” He turned to leave.
“Sir Peter—did Colban get away?”
“That wee lad! I decided not to look for him.”
“Thank you,” she said, realizing he had let him go. He nodded and walked away.
She closed her eyes, unsure what would come next. If Edward wanted to see her, suspecting she tried to assassinate him, he might be angry enough to declare some awful fate for her. She thought of the Scotswomen in cages and shuddered.
And she knew that Carlisle Castle, Edward’s stronghold on the border between England and Scotland, was just a few miles from Lanercost Priory where the king had set up his household. She had heard that Scottish captives disappeared into Carlisle forever.
Lifting her hands, wrists joined by the damp knotted rope, she pushed her bedraggled hair out of her eyes as Sir Peter returned.
“My lady.” He handed her a wooden cup that she took awkwardly. Thirsty, she drank, finding the frothy ale refreshingat first. But it had a bitter aftertaste; the stuff they called the Great Rest had been added. She dumped it out.
“Tell Brother Hugo not again,” she said. “I know the taste.”
She noticed the monk standing nearby with Sir Malise and knew they could hear her in the smaller longship. Hugo shrugged innocently and turned his back.
Though she had sipped only a little, she felt the effects again. Thankful she had not downed the whole of it, she leaned her head against the rise of the stern, dizzy again.
Soon Malise came toward her. “Brother Hugo says he just wanted to ease your suffering on the journey, since you were so sick on the galley. So you should be grateful.”
“I was sick?” She did not remember that. But she noticed that her blue gown had some messy streaks—and she saw similar stains on Malise’s surcoat. She smiled.
