His Bonnie Bride by Hannah Howell (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📕

of Tavis as if by magic, and he realized that Sir Hugh had set a guard at several points along the road. The sudden appearance of two horsemen caused Tavis's horse to rear. His own surprise contributed to Tavis's lack of control and he was thrown. As he hit the ground, his last thought before blackness engulfed him was of Storm.

* * * * *

Storm lay in exhausted sleep crowded upon a pallet with Maggie. When night fell and the fighting had ceased the work had shifted from tending the wounded to feeding the men. Maggie had urged her to seek her own bed, but Storm had refused. She wanted to be near the wounded who might need her, near the battle so that she could know when and if it changed in any way and near Tavis. Maggie had ceased arguing and let her stay.

Suddenly, Storm sat up, Tavis's name upon her lips. She wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered, the cold chill of foreboding she so detested seeping into her bones. Careful not to wake Maggie, Storm rose from the pallet. She had to find Tavis and assure herself that she was only suffering from nerves and exhaustion, that he was all right and not in any real danger. Being caught in the middle of a battle could easily make her see danger and tragedy where none existed.

The battlements were lined with women as well as men. Wives, lovers, daughters and mothers stood watching in their men's place while they lay sprawled at their feet in exhausted slumber, still in full battle array. If it were not for the lack of fighting men, such arrangements would never be allowed, but the men knew that the women's eyes were as keen as theirs and that, if trouble came, the men would be ready, sending the women off the battlements. This way the men could catch some much needed sleep and be more ready to face the battle at the sun's rising.

Pausing by Jeanne, who held the watch for her betrothed, Storm asked, "How goes it, Jeanne?"

" 'Tis a verra great bore. I cannae help but wonder how fit for battle Sir Hugh's troops will be, for 'tis a wild and noisy revel agoing on at their camp. Can ye hear it?"

"Aye," Storm replied with a grimace. "I suspect 'tis my father's wife. She has a fondness for orgies."

"What's an orgy? 'Tis sinful, eh?" asked Jeanne in undisguised interest.

Nodding, Storm elaborated. " 'Tis a whole group of men and women drinking and wenching together. Lady Mary prefers the men to outnumber the women. 'Tis naught but lust and lasciviousness."

"Never," breathed Jeanne, her eyes wide with fascination and horror.

"Aye, lass," came a sleepy voice from behind their feet. " 'Tis a fitting description." Ignoring the gasps of embarrassment from the ladies, Jeanne's betrothed asked, "Does she really hold orgies?"

The dark erased most of Storm's discomfort. "Aye. She held them often at Hagaleah. I would lock myself in my chambers with my old nursemaid, Hilda, and a few maids who were not interested in joining such revels."

"Did ye ne'er keek at such goings on?" asked Jeanne, nudging her lover with her toe when he chuckled.

"Of course not," Storm replied haughtily. "Why should I wish to see naked people bathing in milk and doing lewd things in nearly every room in the keep?" She turned to walk away, but Jeanne halted her.

"Did they really bathe in milk? Stop that tittering, Robbie."

"Aye, they did. I did see that, and a fair bit more, that I'll ne'er tell ye, afore Hilda caught me and dragged me back to my chambers by my hair." She left the young couple laughing softly.

It took her a while to find Sholto, Iain and Colin. The latter two were asleep, but Sholto stood staring out over the battlements. What immediately struck Storm was that he spent as much time staring toward Athdara as he did at Sir Hugh's encampment. She wondered if he expected the momentary arrival of aid from their old allies or the expedient return of all the men they had sent out.

"Ye shouldnae be up here, Storm," Sholto admonished gently. "Ye should be getting some rest."

"Where is Tavis, Sholto?" she asked, not liking the way he avoided looking directly at her.

"He maun be off sleeping," he mumbled, staring out toward the sounds of revelry.

"Sholto, I have looked everywhere and cannot find him. Please, Sholto, where is he?"

"I dinnae ken," he snapped, but then sighed when he caught her expression, which was a mixture of crestfallen and determination. "Here now, lassie," he said gently as he put an arm around her and drew her to his side, "Tavis is a grown man. Ye need nay fear for him."

"Ye do not understand. I woke up so cold and calling his name. 'Tis not a good sign. Please, Sholto ..."

"Nay. Now, look out there and tell me what that infamous Lady Mary of Hagaleah is up to."

" 'Tis sinful," she mumbled, still afraid for Tavis, but not wanting to press Sholto.

"Ah, a subject dear to my heart and sure to keep me alert. Tell us all, lassie," he said teasingly.

While Storm proceeded to fulfill Sholto's request by reciting all she had ever seen and heard, despite the occasional awkwardness and embarrassment such a recital caused, Tavis was coming to in time to be tossed to the ground before a tent. What he saw when a man briefly lifted the tent flap and stepped out made Tavis wonder if his brains had been rattled. Before he could decide whether or not he had really seen a tangle of naked bodies, he was yanked to his feet. Held roughly between two men, he found himself face to face with Sir Hugh, the very man he ached to kill.

"Well, well," Sir Hugh gloated, rubbing his hands together in glee, "Tavis MacLagan himself. They will give that little redheaded whore now. In fact, she will probably turn herself over to me."

Hugh called