Relaxing somewhat, Duncan glanced over his shoulder at the two men who stood silent and stern behind him. "Take the men to the clearing outside the cave my mother favored, Ian. The entrance to the passage my wife speaks of is in it. They shouldn't give ye much more o' a fight than the others, but call me if there is any trouble."
Nodding, the men turned and exited the tent, leaving the three of them alone. Duncan was the first to speak. Sounding weary, he murmured, "So, my own blood has betrayed me."
Allistair cast a glance toward Iliana. Apparently deciding she was too far away to use as a hostage, he gave a resigned sigh and set his tankard down, then slowly, calmly drew his sword.
"Put yer weapon down," Duncan barked.
"Nay. I think not," he murmured with an almost sad smile, raising the sword to confront him.
"Ye canna win, Allie. Ye ken that. Even if your hand isn't broken. We have battled many a time and ye have never won. Put the weapon down."
"Then what? Ye banish me? Send me far and away from me people? From the only home I have ever known? From the woman I love?" His voice cracked slightly then, and his face suffused with sudden rage. "Seonaid would have been mine." With that, he raised his sword and lunged at his cousin.
Iliana cried out and jumped back as Allistair's sword met Duncan's in midair. Her heart thumping violently in her chest, she clenched her hands and watched helplessly as the men stood, swords locked, glaring at each other.
"I don't want to kill ye, Allie. Yer me own blood."
Allistair laughed slightly and shrugged. "That didn't stop me from tryin' to kill you to get what I wanted. Not the night I stabbed yer wife, nor the day I knocked ye out and locked ye all in a burnin' room."
While Duncan absorbed that, Allistair pulled away and swung his sword again. Stunned as he was, her husband managed to fend off the blow.
Allistair gave a breathless laugh as they stared at each other across locked swords again. "It wouldn't have stopped me from having yer wee wife either. While I love Seonaid, yer wife is a tasty bundle. I hoped to get the chance to have her ere killing her." Pulling away again, he grinned. "Mayhap I still will."
Iliana saw the change that came over her husband then and knew that his cousin did not have long for this world. She offered up a quick prayer for his soul even as Allistair raised his sword and charged Duncan. This time, Duncan did not meet the blow; instead he stood perfectly still until the man was nearly upon him, then stepped to the side and thrust his sword straight for his heart. Allistair let out a small grunt as he was impaled, peered into his cousin's face, opened his mouth as if to say something, then dropped to his knees. He swayed there briefly, then collapsed to the ground, his sword crashing to the dirt beside him.
Iliana turned away from the dead man and glanced at her husband. His face was a mask of anguish. Her mind turned to all the others who had loved the man; Angus, Seonaid, Aelfread. "What will you tell them?"
"Nothing," Duncan murmured grimly. "'Twould just sadden them to learn of his perfidy. They loved him dearly. I shall merely tell them that he died in battle."
Iliana nodded solemnly at that, then moved to step out of the tent, breathing deep the fresh air.
As she glanced back, she saw Duncan take one last look at the face of his cousin. Then he took a blanket from the cot in the corner of the tent and covered him gently with it before stepping out to join his wife.
Chapter Twenty-two
"Oh, my lady! Yer safe! How did you escape?"
Letting the keep door close behind her, Iliana smiled wearily at Ebba, as she, Gertie, Janna, and Elgin all crowded around her. "Duncan," she answered. "He and the men returned with the Innes and the king's men. Greenweld's men gave up quickly."
"And Greenweld himself?" Gertie asked anxiously.
Iliana grimaced at the memory of her last sight of the man. He had been lying dead in the clearing.
She and Duncan had joined the party outside the cave just moments before a furious Greenweld led his men out into the clearing. The frustration of finding the passage firmly sealed and returning to the clearing only to discover himself surrounded had seemed to push the man over the edge. With an enraged roar, he had raised his sword and charged forth. His men had not followed. Dropping their weapons, they had stood calmly by and watched as their leader singlehandedly tried to take on three armies. He died quickly.
"There will be no need for an annulment. Mother is a widow once again," Iliana assured the old servant solemnly. Her brows drew down on her forehead, her gaze sweeping the great hall as she suddenly realized that the one person who was most affected by her news was not present to hear it. "Where is my mother?"
"Oh."
"Well."
Iliana's eyes narrowed on Ebba and Janna as the two women exchanged glances of mingled guilt and alarm.
"What have the two of you done?"
"Tied her up and locked her in her room," Gertie announced with amusement.
"What?" Iliana gaped at her with patent disbelief, but the maid merely grinned and shrugged.
"She was wantin' to surrender hersel' fer ye. And ye did tell them that, above all--no matter what occurred--they were to keep her safe."
"Actually, ye even told me to tie her up did I need to," Janna reminded her quietly.
"Oh, my Lord," Iliana breathed, then whirled and hurried toward the stairs.
Iliana was breathless by the time she reached the door to the bedchamber. That was the only reason she did not screech in amazement when she opened the door to find her mother, not bound and gagged in a chair, but lying on the bed...with Angus. She was caught up against the Dunbar laird's chest, his strapping arms wrapped tightly around her as he gave her what appeared to be a most passionate kiss.
Iliana was still standing there gaping at the entwined pair when Duncan caught up with her. Pausing at her side, he peered curiously into the room, his own mouth dropping.
"Da!"
"Mother!"
The two of them cried those words at once, bringing an abrupt end to the interlude the older couple had been enjoying and drawing them guiltily to their feet.
"'Tis not how it looks," Lady Wildwood murmured in a strained voice, her hands moving to straighten her hair and brush at her mussed gown at the same time. "I was tied up, you see, and--and..."
"Aye, and I was passing the room," Angus continued when she peered up at him helplessly. "I thought I heard something in here and looked in to see her tied up."
"Aye. And he very kindly untied me."
"Aye." They both nodded, looking for all the world like a pair of children caught stealing sweets.
Iliana and Duncan merely gaped at them blankly for a moment; then Duncan suddenly burst out in peals of laughter. When everyone else in the room merely peered at him uncertainly, he shook his head. "Now who be the randy bastard?"
Lady Wildwood blushed and Angus flushed purple as he drew himself up to snap back at his son, but it was Iliana who reprimanded him. "Duncan! How could you even think such a thing? My mother is not some--some common camp follower. If they say 'twas innocent, then 'twas."
"Oh, aye," Duncan agreed, amusement still tugging at his lips as he murmured, "'Twas plain to see me father was busy untying yer dear mother when we entered. 'Tis just a shame he didn't try usin' his hands to accomplish the task rather than his tongue. It may have made the deed easier." He then let loose a loud guffaw at his own wit, oblivious of Iliana's dismay.
"Enough!" Angus roared. "Yer not so big I cannot still whup ye, lad. And do you not shut yer mouth, I'm like to prove it."
There was a brief silence and they all stood uncomfortably around, no one seeming to want to leave. Then Iliana stepped forward, her gaze focusing on her mother. "Your gown is fair wrinkled. No doubt you would like to change ere the sup," she suggested stiffly.
Lady Wildwood glanced down at herself and nodded with a sigh. Not only was her gown wrinkled, it was also filthy. In the excitement of the last two days, none of them had bathed or ch
anged.
Smiling with feigned pleasantness at the two Dunbar men, Iliana moved again until she stood between her mother and Angus. "Perhaps you gentlemen would be good enough to arrange for a bath to be brought up? My mother and I would like to refresh ourselves."
Angus looked about to argue, but a glance at Lady Wildwood's expression made him sigh resignedly. Nodding, he moved to the door. "Come along, lad. Let's leave the ladies be."
"Are you very angry?"
Iliana turned from closing the door behind the two men to peer at her mother uncertainly. "Angry?" she queried evasively, unsure herself of how she felt. She supposed part of her felt a touch of hurt and betrayal on behalf of her father; part of her was just plain shocked, and another part...Well, she simply wasn't sure how she felt.