Forbidden Read Online Free Page A

girl, let us hurry before anyone else
discovers this.”
    “I’m sorry, Hannah. I should have resisted
him.” Catalin’s voice was faint with shame.
    “Nay, child. The fault was his. Do not fret
overlong.” She lathered a separate cloth and scrubbed over
Catalin’s legs, while Catalin washed her face. “I do not doubt many
of the women under this castle’s roof were tupped before their
vows. Should he have made a baby, ‘twill not be known for the
wedding is but a day away.”
    It was the fastest Catalin had ever dressed
in her life
    She hurried down to the great hall. When
offered porridge and scones, she smiled and said she had already
broken her fast. She hoped no one could hear her stomach’s hungry
growl.
    The thunder of hooves crossing the drawbridge
and clattering on the cobblestones distracted her from her
worries.
    What were the men shouting? She raced to the
window, hoping to get a glimpse of Moridac. She did not see him for
all the men milling about. They jumped off their mounts and ran
toward a group gathered around the entrance.
    Chief Broccin had ridden his mount to the
very steps. Why?
    Hands reached up to him. Not to help him
dismount. To take something from his arms. She did not have to see
his white, strained face to know.
    She gasped. The men carefully handled a
bloodstained body. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
    Moridac!

CHAPTER 4
    Back at Kelso Abbey
    “Chief Broccin may approach, but dinna open
the gate. He will return at once from whence he came.” Ranald’s
lips thinned to a grim line. His dark, smoldering look revealed the
fury, the hatred, kept banked for so many years.
    “Hear him out, Ranald.” Raik’s eyes filled
with sympathy for his cousin whose only wish was to be left
alone.
    For several heartbeats, Ranald sat his mount
facing the Abbey gate, as still as if both man and horse were
stone. Finally, he shoved the cowl back from his head, for it would
interfere should he need to do battle. He did not mask his feelings
as he eyed Raik. He fought to control his anger, his emotions. For
if he did not, there was no telling what his temper could unleash.
He squared his shoulders, stilled all expression from his face and
watched the advancing army.
    What need had they of so many numbers? A
fool’s question. Kelso was on the Scottish Border, and skirmishes
happened more often here. He should know. ‘Twas he who had the
caring of the broken bodies, the dying men.
    His father was many things. Careless was not
one of them.
    Ranald’s horse sidestepped, nervous, as
riders galloped toward them. They were close enough now that he
scanned the men’s faces, swept past Broccin, picked out his
father’s commander Domnall, the knights Fergus and Dubne.
    His eyes continued their quest. A frown
gathered between his brows. Where was Moridac? He had felt his
presence much of late, even coming to him in his dreams. He would
recognize him, for he would be the exact image of himself. He
snorted in disgust. Aye. Like me. But then,
not
like
me.
    Sick fear twisted ugly fingers around his
heart, dragging it to the pit of his stomach. He locked his mind
from it. An arrogant voice brought his thoughts back.
    “See the gates opened, boy,” Broccin shouted,
his face ruddy with anger.
    “Boy?” Ranald looked at each of the men
around him. “I see no boy, Chief Broccin. By yer own lips, that boy
died near ten and five years past. If mayhap ye address me, ye are
mistaken. I am Brother Ranald, Protector and Infirmarian of Kelso
Abbey. If ye wish entrance, ye, Lord Raik’s commander and yer own
may enter. All weapons must remain outside these walls, or else
surrendered upon entering. Armies are not welcome here. Yer
warriors must camp outside the gates.”
    Broccin’s mouth dropped. Ranald spied
Domnall, riding beside his father, the corners of his lips
twitching though he pressed them together. No one in many years had
dared to dispute Chief Broccin.
    Broccin, his eyes blazing, roared. “Open