by the king’s teasing, Thomas stared at the monarch in disbelief. Did he nae understand the gravity of the situation? “Your Grace—”
The Bruce held up his hand. “She will answer me.”
The brazen expression on her face melted to a smile. “Sire,” she replied with complete innocence, “I sent but a warning shot.”
As if accepting her words as truth, the king withdrew his dagger, pressed the blade against the rope at her wrists, slashed.
God’s teeth! Thomas caught her freed hands. “Sire, she isna to be trusted.”
Without warning, Alesone laughed.
The Bruce joined in, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Sir Thomas, forgive me. With the demands on campaign, little time exists to have a bit of fun.”
Thomas struggled with the king’s assertion.
“Furthermore,” Robert Bruce continued, “having met you several weeks ago at Avalon Castle and knowing of your penchant for a jest, even if you were the subject of the teasing, I knew you would find amusement in the situation once you learned the truth.” Beaming, he nodded to the woman. “She is indeed my healer, whom I trust with my life.”
The king’s explanation roared through Thomas’s mind, but it eroded down to two words. A jest? The entire time she’d stated naught but the truth? However stunned to be caught off guard, he wouldna apologize. With the dangerous state of the Highlands, the weapons she carried, her skill as an archer, and Comyn’s ruthless determination to kill the Bruce and claim the crown, his conclusions had been logical.
Laughter danced in her eyes. “You can release me.”
Thomas let go as if he touched a hot coal.
“And Sir Thomas, had I meant to kill you,” she said, “my arrows would have lodged in your heart.”
With the accuracy of her shots, the truth. Far from pleased with the situation, neither did he miss the smiles of his men. Why wouldna they find amusement in his being the object of a bit of fun? As the king had pointed out, his enjoyment of antics were well known, along with his ability to take as good as he gave.
Under normal circumstance, he’d laugh at the ruse. Except something about this woman left him on edge. With the limited time he and his men would remain in camp, nor would he ponder thoughts of her further. “Regardless the confusion, Sire, she is safe.”
“For that I thank you.” The last wisps of humor in King Robert’s eyes faded as he faced her. “You willna again take such risks.”
“Sire, I needed but a few herbs to restock my supplies, and I am more than able to—”
“Enough!” The king’s jaw tightened. “With Comyn’s forces in search of us, whatever your weaponry skills, ’tis too dangerous to be outside the encampment alone. You willna do such again. I forbid it!”
Her face paled. “Aye, Your Grace.”
Submissive? That Thomas doubted. The hint of frustration in her eyes betrayed her calm, her words offered to defuse the king’s ire. Neither was she a fool. However much the lass chafed at the restrictions, she’d obey.
“Mistress Alesone,” the Bruce continued as he returned to his chair, “if you need to leave camp in the future, ’twill be under proper guard.”
God’s teeth, after her foolish risk, how could their sovereign allow her to remain with their force? Thomas cleared his throat. “Sire, within a fortnight we head into battle. A situation far from fostering a safe haven for a willful lass.”
“I explained the dangers to her upon our initial meeting.” The Bruce frowned. “She wouldna be swayed.”
Why had the sovereign allowed her a blasted choice? After today’s fiasco, he could order her to leave, under escort if necessary, or confine her within one of his recently seized castles. To Thomas, the latter held great appeal. “I beseech you to reconsider, Your Grace. For her safety.”
Alesone scoffed, “I am far from helpless, and as I explained to our king, neither am I afraid of war.”
Furious she’d ignore the risk, or believe herself immune to the danger, Thomas’s well-cultivated reply shattered. “Only a fool has no fear.”
Her lavender eyes flared with annoyance, inciting him further.
The senseless chit. “You think you understand, but a bard’s stories of combat told around the hearth hardly paint the truth. In the haze of battle,” Thomas said with cold precision, “the air is wrought with screams of death, the earth stained with blood, and mercy nonexistent.” His ire mounting, he stepped closer, determined to sever her belief that she would be unaffected. “Brave men lay mutilated, each breath filled with agony, pleading for an end to their suffering. You are so caught up in your own struggle to live as you wield your blade, you ignore them.” He fisted his hands at his sides as the horrific images stained his mind. “Only if you dinna fall victim to an attacker’s sword, and once the fighting is over, can you grant those mortally wounded their lethal wish.”
Despair flickered on her face, but her eyes remained defiant.
Blast her for pushing him to this point, that she’d dare. “Your words are noble, but—” Thomas noticed the king’s interest in their tense interaction. Stunned by his outburst, he bit back the storm of words yearning to burst free. Few could unleash his emotions to such an extreme.
Men, he trusted.
Never a woman.
As their sovereign continued to study him, Thomas silently cursed, too aware of Robert Bruce’s affinity for women who defied the norms of society, proven by his dealings with Lady Katherine months before. Regardless of his own belief that this lass should be carted off and left in one of his holdings for her own safety, ’twould seem her boldness had earned the king’s favor.
“Mistress Alesone,” the king said, “Sir Thomas raises valid concerns about the dangers we face. If you have changed your mind and wish to leave, I will ensure you are escorted to a safe holding.”
She shook her head. “Sire, I want to remain.”
With a sigh, he nodded. “As you wish.”
Outrage burned in Thomas’s gut. ’Twas her choice, her life. Her presence here wouldna affect him. Once they’d defeated Comyn he would move on, and this exasperating woman would be forgotten.
The king lifted a goblet on a side table and took a sip. “Sir Thomas, I didna expect your arrival so soon.”
“We took a shorter route along the cliffs, Your Grace, and were able to slip past the enemy.” He shot Alesone a hard look, wanting her to understand her antics had neither won him over nor earned his praise. “I admit my surprise to learn you have a woman healer.” The king must have sent for her, ’twould explain his protectiveness and their familiarity to the point where they could jest. “’Tis always welcome to have those alongside us whom we know.”
Tenderness touched the king’s expression. “’Tis, but until her arrival a few days before, we had never met. We have a mutual friend, one who saved my life.”
