Read Susan King - [Celtic Nights 02] for Free Online Page A

of his voice made Juliana feel ill. "King Edward has requested a pair of Scottish swans for a royal feast. He has appointed me his new Master of Swans in Scotland. Part of my duties are to see that swans are captured to stock his rivers and grace his table. My men will take a pair of birds from those you keep."
    "We do not keep them," Malcolm answered. "The birds are wild. They choose to stay here."
    "All the swans in Britain belong exclusively to the king," the sheriff said. "That includes the swans in Scotland. For now, we need but one more. We have caught one already—the Swan Maiden." De Soulis kept hold of Juliana's arm. "The king will find this pair quite amusing."
    "The king?" Malcolm asked. "You cannot take the lass!"
    "I can and will," De Soulis answered. "With another swan." He gestured to two men, who dismounted. They took nets and long hooks from their saddles and walked to the water's edge.
    Juliana gasped and twisted silently in De Soulis's relentless grip. She had known some of the birds for years, since they had been born, and she could not bear for harm to come to any of them. But she did not know how to help them now.
    "Abbot, if the girl wants to protest, make her use her tongue," De Soulis said. "I am weary of this game she plays."
    "Sir Sheriff, she chooses to be silent."
    "'Tis said she has some magic about her."
    "People say that you have magic too. That armor, I hear, is impenetrable and under some dark spell."
    "Nonsense," De Soulis snapped.
    "Then we understand each other."
    "Mayhap. Tell me why the girl does not speak."
    "She is pious and grieving. 'Tis all."
    "She should be in a convent, then."
    "She would be, if King Edward had not burned most of them," Malcolm said pointedly. "The girl is kind to her brothers and to our brethren, and tends to the swans. She is an innocent. Leave her be."
    "She makes a fine hostage, as do her brothers. You will hear from me soon, Abbot Malcolm." De Soulis turned his horse.
    "Stop!" Malcolm shouted. "You cannot keep them!"
    "They provide assurance. We need the help of the monks of Inchfillan when the garrison at Elladoune departs. I suspect rebel activity in this area. But of course we can trust you, Abbot... can we not?"
    "Certes. No hostages need ensure it."
    "I will take them nevertheless. The king will want to see this Swan Maiden. As for the boys... what is the tradition among the Scots? Fostering? Consider them fostered by the sheriff of Glen Fillan. My wife will approve of them in her household, as she is without children of her own." He nodded brusquely. "Good day. Ride out," he snapped at the guards, and shifted forward.
    Juliana gasped out, turning to look at her guardian.
    "Where will you take them?" Malcolm demanded.
    "Her brothers will stay at Dalbrae with my wife and my garrison," De Soulis said. "I will take an escort and convey the girl to Newcastle in safety."
    "Newcastle-on-Tyne?" Malcolm asked. "Is the king there now?"
    "He and his army have been making their way north toward Scotland and have reached Newcastle. 'Tis a short journey from here, a few days at most. She will be in the care of a military escort. The king will decide what is to be done with her."
    Panic overtook Juliana then. She could scarcely breathe or think as she twisted against De Soulis's grip in terror. She could not go with these men, nor could she leave her brothers, or Malcolm, or this place. Desperation rose high and quick, and she shoved De Soulis. He wrenched her arm in fierce reply.
    "I will come with her myself," the abbot said, "or I will send monks with her! 'Tis not right to take a female like this—the daughter of a laird—"
    "Daughter of a rebel, and a rebel herself, most likely," De Soulis corrected. "A priest will be with my troops, and he can chaperone her." He spurred the horse and cantered away.
    Juliana looked over her shoulder at the guards who carried her brothers. Alec's eyes were wide and frightened, and Iain emitted bold, earsplitting shrieks. Malcolm