flashed in her eyes. “A moment I shall relish.”
Thomas forced a smile. However much she irritated him, the lass was a fighter. She clung to her declaration with the tenacity of a beggar fighting over crumbs.
When they’d entered the encampment, he’d expected her to panic, petition for her release, and admit her claim of being the king’s healer a lie spoken out of desperation. Given Scotland’s turmoil, reasoning he’d understand.
With the Highlanders’ loyalty torn between King Robert and Comyn, the king wouldna be amused by the woman’s false claim; less so once he learned of her impressive ability with a bow. The precision of her shots, her confidence, and her daring bespoke highly specific training. Well he knew the time and dedication necessary to gain such skill.
Regardless of her insistence, she was more than just a lass trained in the healing arts. Whoever had sent her believed that with her beauty, none would perceive her as a threat. If nae for her warning shot, he might have made that error himself. It was a blunder he’d make sure she would come to regret.
As they passed several knights training with their blades, her steps slowed. “We are drawing notice.”
A hint of nerves tinged her voice, pleasing Thomas. Confident of an impending confession, he glanced over. “Nay doubt roused by your being a stranger.”
She leveled her gaze on him. “They know who I am.”
“Yet nay one comes to your rescue?” Thomas nodded at several knights he’d recently met at Avalon Castle before turning back to her. “A fact I find odd.”
Red crept up her face. “In truth, I arrived but days ago. I have met only a handful of those in accompaniment with the king.”
“Indeed?” he said with mock surprise. “Earlier you led me to believe otherwise.”
“As if with your treating me as a threat to the king’s life you would have believed anything I said?”
Bedamned, her spirit would impress the stoutest man. However, with the danger about, there was naught laudable about her presence or untruths. Somber, he resumed his stride, tugging her along.
“Enough! I came with you to camp with minor resistance. Release me now, and I willna tell our king of your reprehensible behavior.”
A slow pounding built in Thomas’s head. “Mistress Alesone, you are nae in a position to state conditions.”
She set her jaw. “We shall see how smug you are once we meet with the king.”
They would. Robert Bruce wouldna allow a woman to join him while on campaign. Except for Lady Katherine Calbraith: a woman so desperate for vengeance that less than two weeks ago she’d made demands of the king. That twisted tale had hurled Thomas’s friend and fellow Templar, Stephan MacQuistan, into a forced marriage where in the end, Stephan and Katherine had both found love.
After years of personal torment, Stephan had found happiness, which pleased Thomas.
He glanced at the woman. Regardless of her beauty, intelligence, or the way she made a man ponder more than a lingering glance, he didna seek a lass. Nor did he trust her. She was a fine example of how well treachery could be disguised.
However dangerous, life served wielding his blade for the king and the country held great appeal. Though he’d enjoyed Katherine’s wit and daring while he’d stayed at Avalon Castle, neither did he envy Stephan’s being sentenced to a wife.
Irritated his thoughts had strayed beyond those of duty, he stopped before the guard, more than ready to relinquish his unwanted prisoner. “Inform the king that Sir Thomas and his men have arrived from Avalon Castle.”
“Aye.” The fabric making up the entry scraped against the tent as the man disappeared inside.
Thomas glanced over impressed by her steely glare, halfway between outraged queen and one of the fae. “’Tis a surprise you didna plead your case to the guard.”
She stared straight ahead with cool disregard. “My words are reserved for our king.”
“The lass seems adamant,” Aiden stated, his voice edged with concern.
“Or desperate.” Thomas dismissed a trickle of unease. “It matters little. In a moment we will have the truth.”
The canvas flap opened, and the guard stepped back. “The king will see you.”
“I thank you.” Thomas hauled her inside. The rich tang of smoke filled the air as he halted several paces before the king. He bowed, the soft thud of his men’s boots in his wake. “Your Grace.”
The formal greetings to the Bruce sounded behind him.
A frown furrowed the king’s brow as his gaze shifted to the woman. “Why is she with you?”
“Sire,” Thomas replied, “en route, my men and I captured this assassin near camp.”
The king’s surprised expression shifted to fury. “Assassin?”
“Aye, Sire.” Thomas slanted her a cool look. “She stated her name is Mistress Alesone, and dared claim that she is your healer.”
His men dumped the well-made bow, arrows, and quiver, and lethal knives onto the ground before the king.
“Weaponry we relived her of,” Thomas said.
He shot to his feet. Face taut, the Bruce stormed over. “Where did you find her?”
“A league from your camp, Your Grace,” Thomas replied, astonished that with the king towering over her, Alesone didna flinch.
At her defiance, the king’s face reddened.
Neither could Thomas blame the sovereign for his anger. There comes a time when even the finest warrior has the wisdom to show deference.
“What say you, lass, for your daring?” the king growled.
Her mouth tightened.
God’s blade, she didna have a whit of sense. Or, more chilling, was she this hardhearted? A good judge of character, Thomas could believe her highly trained from her confidence and skill, but naught about her comportment during the journey had suggested the cold, ruthless woman before him.
Unsure if he was more disgusted with himself for missing the depth of her callousness or ashamed he’d been drawn to her spirit, Thomas glared at her. Under most circumstances, he would feel sorry for the woman receiving the king’s wrath. In this case, she deserved whatever punishment the Bruce served.
The sovereign’s fierce expression fell upon her wrists, and the anger on his face faded to surprise. “You tied her?”
Confused, Thomas nodded. Had he known the depth of her treachery, he would have run a blade through her and left her for the wolves. “Foolishly, the woman tried to kill me. Much to her regret, she failed. Once caught, Sire, she ignored my warning to nae try to escape and left me little choice.”
“Which tells me,” King Robert said, his each
