by Eliza Knight
The Highlander’s Quest
The Sutherland Legacy Book 2.5
Eliza Knight
Contents
About the Book
More Books by Eliza Knight
Legend
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
More Sutherlands!
Excerpt from The Highlander’s Stolen Bride
About the Author
About the Book
Lady Julia’s mission is to protect the young boy king. Sir Alistair has uncovered a plot to destroy Scotland. Together, they must fight a powerful enemy who hides behind a traitorous veil of secrecy…
Copyright 2018 © Eliza Knight
THE HIGHLANDER’S QUEST © 2018 Eliza Knight. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part or the whole of this book may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted or utilized (other than for reading by the intended reader) in ANY form (now known or hereafter invented) without prior written permission by the author. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal, and punishable by law.
THE HIGHLANDER’S QUEST is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and or are used fictitiously and solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, businesses, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover Design by Kim Killion @ The Killion Group, Inc.
Published by:
**Note: This book was originally published in April 2018 in the Ladies of the Stone anthology**
More Books by Eliza Knight
The Sutherland Legacy
The Highlander’s Gift
The Highlander’s Quest
The Highlander’s Stolen Bride
The Highlander’s Hellion — Fall 2018
Pirates of Britannia: Devils of the Deep
Savage of the Sea
The Sea Devil
A Pirate’s Bounty
The Stolen Bride Series
The Highlander’s Temptation
The Highlander’s Reward
The Highlander’s Conquest
The Highlander’s Lady
The Highlander’s Warrior Bride
The Highlander’s Triumph
The Highlander’s Sin
Wild Highland Mistletoe (a Stolen Bride winter novella)
The Highlander’s Charm (a Stolen Bride novella)
A Kilted Christmas Wish – a contemporary Holiday spin-off
The Conquered Bride Series
Conquered by the Highlander
Seduced by the Laird
Taken by the Highlander (a Conquered bride novella)
Claimed by the Warrior
Stolen by the Laird
Protected by the Laird (a Conquered bride novella)
Guarded by the Warrior
The MacDougall Legacy Series
Laird of Shadows
Laird of Twilight
Laird of Darkness
The Thistles and Roses Series
Promise of a Knight
Eternally Bound
Breath from the Sea
The Highland Bound Series (Erotic time-travel)
Behind the Plaid
Bared to the Laird
Dark Side of the Laird
Highlander’s Touch
Highlander Undone
Highlander Unraveled
Wicked Women
Her Desperate Gamble
Seducing the Sheriff
Kiss Me, Cowboy
Under the name E. Knight
Tales From the Tudor Court
My Lady Viper
Prisoner of the Queen
Ancient Historical Fiction
A Day of Fire: a novel of Pompeii
A Year of Ravens: a novel of Boudica’s Rebellion
Legend
While beautiful and ethereal in her wildness, Scotland held within her so much power, she could very well tear herself apart. To ensure Scotland’s safety, an ancient order of druids decided to safeguard her very heart.
They made a gem of the purest emerald, protected by a necklace wrought of gold, and locked her soul within it, imbuing the stone with magical properties no mortal could ever destroy. For every generation to come, the soul of the stone would select a protector, a woman with a pure heart and the ferocity of a warrior. Upon her death, the immortal stone would then seek the security of its next protector.
But the battle of light and dark is as old as time, and nature has a way of balancing itself—whether for good or evil.
When the reach of the stone stretches toward its next guardian, so too does the call go out to the opposing force—a man whose heart is set on reclaiming Scotland for his own purposes. Both guardian and nemesis receive their mark and are drawn toward the stone that lies in wait within the glittering shallows of the fairy pools, guarded by the Priestess of the Stone.
Scotland’s darkest days will emerge if the stone should fall into the wrong hands. The fate of the chosen is a never-ending battle for the stone, Scotland’s lifeblood, between the protector and her adversary. For when one dies, a new struggle will begin again until the end of time.
Prologue
Scottish Highlands
Eilean Donan Castle
1298
’Twas well past nightfall when they arrived on the bridge to Eilean Donan. Ronan Sutherland sent up a call to the guards to let them know it was no enemy who approached, and the gates were swiftly opened.
Half the men had returned with them, while Wallace led the other half in a chase for the vile Earl of Ross, who had been terrorizing the Highlands for years with his alliance to the English.
They were greeted in the courtyard by nearly everyone, including Robert the Bruce, who looked worried over the lack of those returning and stuttered William Wallace’s name, until Ronan explained what had happened. He then gave his future king a serious look and asked to speak with him in private.
“I will also attend your private meeting,” Julianna de Brus stated. Her shoulders were squared, head held high. The lass, if a hellion could be called by such a docile term, was the bastard half-sister of the Bruce, as well as his personal guard.
“Julianna…” Robert warned, but Ronan shook his head.
“She may, if ’tis all right with ye, my lord.” Ronan couldn’t take his eyes off her. Despite the bits of dirt smudging her creamy skin, she was still a vision. And nothing had scared the piss out of him more than seeing her quiver at the end of Ross’ sword, and then finding her missing. Thank God she was no longer in danger.
“All right,” Robert drawled, looking between the two of them.
The man must have started to put two and two together, because his face grew pinched, and if Julianna’s earlier projections about her brother not wanting her to marry were true, they might be in for a bit of disappointment.
They were in love, and that was the simple truth of it. Ronan could not picture his life without her in it.
Robert beckoned them into the castle and they followed him up the spiral stair to his chambers. A fire blazed in the hearth and several candles lit the room. Ronan’s stomach twisted with hunger, but he ignored it.
“Wine?” Robert asked, holding up a jug.
“Aye, please.” Julianna gripped a cup from his table an
d held it out while her brother poured.
Ronan nodded and lifted his own cup, watching as Robert poured the red liquid with steady hands.
“Sit. Drink. Tell me what this is about.”
Ronan and Julianna both took seats while Robert stood, arms crossed, and gave them a stare that might have cowed a lesser man. But Ronan was not a lesser man, and he knew what he wanted. Needed. Julianna. He loved her.
“I wish to offer for Julianna’s hand in marriage.” There, he’d said it.
Robert looked ready to throttle him, but at least no weapons had been drawn. However, Ronan wasn’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t be cast into the bowels of hell—the Bruce’s glower was that staggering.
“I see. Julianna?” Her brother glanced her way, his expression unreadable.
I see? What the hell kind of response was that? Ronan tried not to frown but couldn’t help his jaw muscles flexing with irritation.
“I wish to marry him, brother. With all my heart. I’ve served ye many years. Since we were bairns even. Now I am seven and twenty. ’Tis well past the time I marry.” She turned to Ronan and smiled, her eyes twinkling. “And I love him.”
Robert let out a disgusted grunt and whined almost like a spoiled child. “Truly?”
“Aye, brother.” Julianna turned her attention back to the Bruce, and her voice grew stern. “I’ve not asked ye for anything afore. I’ve only lived to serve ye. Give me this one thing.”
Robert walked away from them, toward the window. He opened the shutter and gazed out at the cloudless night sky. Ronan could have counted to a thousand in the time it took for Robert to finally turn his attention back to them.
“Ye have my blessing,” he said softly. “Though a third-born son is well below your station.”
Ouch. Ronan felt as though an arrow had slammed into his ego.
“Robert!” Julianna scolded. She gave Ronan’s hand a squeeze and then stood, marching over to her brother as though she’d grip him by his ear and drag him outside to the stocks. “His station means naught to me.”
The Bruce held up his hand, his face serious. “That is not the way I meant for it to come out. I only mean that Ronan must be elevated. He has proven his worth to me. To this country. And if he means that much to ye, then I would see him given his rightful due.”
Ronan also stood. “My lord—”
“Dinna try to change my mind. I’ve thought about it. Had been thinking about it afore now. In a few months’ time, we will move closer to the Lowlands to prepare for the invasion promised us from the English come spring. When we leave, the castle will be without a laird. Ye, Ronan Sutherland, will be the new Laird of Eilean Donan; in fact, all of Kintail. Ross has lost his privileges here, and I hope to see ye keep this castle fortified against him.”
Ronan’s heart felt ready to burst. “Aye, my lord. ’Twould be an honor. And thank ye. I love Julianna with all my heart.”
“Good. Because if ye ever hurt her, I will make ye pay. Painfully.”
Ronan blinked a few times, trying to assess how to react, but the Bruce stepped forward and clapped him hard on the back three times, a grin on his royal face.
“When should ye like to marry?” the future king asked.
“Now,” Julianna and Ronan answered at the same time.
Robert’s head fell back and he roared a laugh. “Well, I see ye are both not too eager,” he teased, his voice dripping sarcasm.
Julianna’s face turned a ravishing shade of red, and Ronan felt a little heat creep into his own cheeks.
“Oh, come now,” Robert chuckled. “Finish your wine. I will call for the priest.”
Less than an hour later, Julianna and Ronan were sequestered in their wedding chamber, a table full of food, a jug full of wine and two hot, steamy bathtubs.
Man and wife.
1
June 10, 1329
Eilean Donan Castle
Her uncle was the king, and the king was dead.
“Ye’ll need to leave right away.” Lady Julianna Sutherland’s pallor was ashen and sweat beaded along her brow and upper lip. Her once reddish-gold locks hung limp as though even the strands of her hair were too weak to do anything more than hang.
Julia, named for her mother, stared wide-eyed, disbelieving the order she’d just been given. “Leave? Now? But Mama—”
The Lady of Eilean Donan waved her hand dismissively, as though she’d simply asked her daughter to go and fetch the eggs from the hen house, and an attempt had not just been made on her mother’s life. “Dinna sass me, lass. I’ll be fine.”
Julia shook her head hard enough that her hair, which matched her mothers, came loose from the knot she’d secured at her nape. “Da will kill me if I leave ye like this.”
Her mother reached out a trembling hand and gripped onto Julia’s shaky fingers, stroking her thumb soothingly over the knuckles. “My own sweet bairn, your da will be proud of ye, and he will understand. I assure ye, the poison has quite left my body now.”
Julia tried to quell the slight shaking in her hands but nothing seemed to work. How was she supposed to do as she asked? Someone had just tried to kill her mother. Though Lady Sutherland had trained Julia in the arts of fighting and protecting others, there had been little she could do about a poisoning. Her mother told her it wasn’t Julia’s fault, and she mostly believed her, but still… It didn’t matter. She couldn’t leave. Her duty was here. Mama needed her. What if there was another attempt on Lady Sutherland’s life? Julia was supposed to just up and leave? Preposterous! “Da will be back any day now, at least let me wait until he returns.”
Her mother shook her head, then closed her eyes as though the movement made her dizzy. “There is no time to waste. The boy king needs ye.”
The boy king. Wee King David II. Already a king at five years old, and no one would have thought it to be so.
Her mother’s half-brother, King Robert the Bruce, God rest his soul, had passed away just two weeks ago near Dumbarton while on campaign with his men, after a prolonged illness. The country mourned him—as did all of Eilean Donan.
All his life, her mother had hidden behind a veil of secrecy, pretending to be a servant at the same time she’d taken care that anyone who got close enough to harm Robert was eradicated. All her life had been dedicated to keeping her brother safe, and in between her missions, she had managed to carve out a life with her husband, and birth just a single daughter—Julia—to whom she’d passed on her trade and skills.
But Julia was not an only child.
Before she was born, her father, Ronan Sutherland, the Laird of Eilean Donan, had adopted a son, Tad, whom he and Lady Julianna had raised as their own, and Julia considered to be her brother in full.
“Tad is due back on the morrow from his scouting mission. Please, let me just wait until then, Mama.”
“If he is not back by the nooning, ye must go, my darling. King David is not safe. Already enough days have passed without him having a guard who isn’t tainted with a personal agenda. The Earl of Moray wrote to me, personally requesting my assistance. I canna let him down. They need ye. This country needs ye.”
Julia swallowed, trying to find the courage within to agree. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to serve her king, but it meant she had to leave her mother, who had been near death’s door just the day before. But she could see that her mother was not going to budge and that there was no use in arguing.
What would be worse? Disobeying her mother and incurring her disappointment, possibly jeopardizing the king’s safety? Or her mother taking a turn for the worse, or another attempt being made on her life, when none of her loved ones were there to care for her? How was Julia to make that choice?
“I know ye’re struggling with this, my darling, but I promise ye. I will be well soon. I can feel it in my bones. And the king needs ye. If Robert were alive…” Her mother’s voice broke on a sob.
The trembling in Julia’s hand ceased and she squeezed her mother back, as she did wa
nt to be a pillar of strength for her mother. Perhaps if she just played along… “Where is the king now?”
“Dunfermline Palace, Fife.”
“It’ll take me at least a sennight to get there.”
“That is why I must insist that ye leave as soon as possible.” Her mother started to cough, her face turning red, lips blue, and Julia rushed to grapple with a pitcher of water by the bedside, pouring into a cup. She held it to her mother’s lips as soon as her coughing fit gave her enough mercy to sip. “Thank ye, sweet child.”
The courage seemed to have evaporated with her mother’s coughing fit. Julia bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted to argue with her mother. To tell her this mission had come at the wrong time and someone else was going to have to take care of the bairn king, that she needed to remain behind and be with her mother.
But the way her mother looked at her then, with such pride, the way her mother held such confidence in Julia’s ability to see the task through, had her holding her tongue.
“All right, Mama. I will leave as soon as Tad has returned, unless he has not returned by noon.”
Her mother grasped her hand once more. “Thank ye. I know ye can do it. Go over there to my wardrobe. I want ye to have something.”