Adrina knew that if her father had knowledge of this gathering, he would have made it a point to be at the war council. But he wasn’t here. Why? The only thing she could determine was that once again her father’s principal advisor, Fingal MacNauld, had a hand in it.
Scanning the room, she took in the people who surrounded her. At the dais, the MacGregons sat, formidable and proud. By now many of the septs had left Tancraig, although there were some clan members that remained. She supposed that the various chieftains had to return to their homes. Once they took care of their business, they would march on to Bracken Ridge, an area so named because of the abundant bracken which grew on all sides of the steep glen. Aside from her vision earlier, she had never visited there, although she understood that it was located in the mountainous range south of Tancraig. A narrow crossing ran through it, and which was used for traveling into the heart of the highlands. In the summer months, however, the pass became virtually inaccessible, since the bracken grew thick and sturdy. There were some spots where the plant swelled to the height of a full-grown man. Nevertheless, now that the weather was cooling, the bracken would die back. And because of this, the English would be more successful in moving large cavalry and battle equipment through the passage.
Off to the side, Adrina overheard two men discussing the coming war. Even though she tried to center her attention on her meal, the conversation between the two men floated to her ears. Adrina pushed the bowl away, the little food she ate now sitting within her stomach like a rigid mass.
She concentrated on taking in one breath after another. Bunching her hands in her kirtle, she prayed that she wouldn’t experience another horrific vision. The last thing she wanted was to re-experience the realities of war, and watch her kinsmen die. But then the moment passed, and the youthful brogue of Duncan’s youngest brother entered into her consciousness.
“…’A Highlander is resilient, and always fights for what he wants. But he also has the support of his clan,’ Rory said. The English knights quaked in their boots, and bolted out of Scotland. And so ends the tale of how Rory won the love of his bonny lass,” Ewan finished with flourish. Soon after shouting and applause erupted all around them.
Rory reached over and covered Darra’s hand with his while a pretty flush stained her cheeks.
Adrina sighed. “’Tis plain that they are verra much in love,” she said to Mairead who sat beside her. “Even my own parents are nae sae bold as tae display their affection in public.”
“Aye, they both make each other verra happy,” Mairead said, smiling.
The couple’s delight in each other was obvious. Adrina wondered whether she would find a similar happiness even though she had no choice on who she would marry. Her father and his advisor were intent in matching her with some mighty laird that would prove beneficial to Clan MacGill. They hadn’t yet found this man, but it was only a matter of time.
Adrina pushed the bowl of stew away, her appetite gone. She didn’t know what had come over her, and why she was thinking of love or the lack of it. Her purpose here was to get the help she needed to free her people. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t have the power or the influence to save Scotland. For now, she had to be content with helping her own clan. But a new worry nagged at her. What if her clansmen came out of their stupor, and discovered that their beloved land was overrun by the hated English. Was Adrina really doing them a favor by breaking them loose from one prison only to have them enslaved in another?
She shook off the gloomy thoughts, resolving to think of something else. In a few short hours Venora would deliver the brew, and Adrina would be on her way.
“What manner of woman is Lady Venora?” she asked Mairead.
“She’s a lady of merit,” Mairead answered simply. “She has a rare ability tae quickly assess a problem and derive an adequate cure. I have never seen the like. The auld healer from the village isnae as accurate.”
“She has the appearance of a Scotswoman yet she speaks with the inflection of a sassenach.”
“Sae ye noticed that,” Mairead said. “Lady Venora was born in the highlands, however when she married an English lord, she moved to England, and lost all traces of her heritage. She’s here now tae visit with her daughter.”
Adrina fell silent as she continued to listen to Mairead’s description of the healer. Her inner guidance did well to lead her to the renowned healer. On her own, Adrina would never have thought to come this far into MacGregon territory.
“Och, there’s the lady now,” Mairead said, interrupting Adrina’s train of thought.
A flurry of activity at the front of the great hall caught her attention. Sitting up straighter, she craned her neck, and saw the healer and a servant making their way toward them. But it was when she saw that Venora clutched something in her hand that her heart began to race. This was it. All thoughts fled from her mind. She quickly made her excuse to Mairead, and rushed over to meet the healer halfway across the hall.
“Is the brew finished, milady?” Adrina asked a little breathlessly.
“Aye,” she said, handing her a small bottle. “Make certain that you use it well, as ‘tis a long and difficult process to make. As well, keep the potion away from the sun, since this will reduce its potency.”
“But how can I administer it?”
“Mix the contents into a drink, and with one sip, the spell will break.”
Her mind started racing. First she would pour a small amount in her father’s whisky, and have him drink it. After that, she would pour the rest of the contents into the communal well. Once the people in the castle drank from the well, everyone would wake up, and see Fingal for who he really was.
Adrina’s fingers curled around the precious bottle, and she held it close to her breast. “Thank ye, milady.”
Venora nodded her head graciously. “The servant will take you to the stables where your escort is waiting.”
***
As they neared the stable, Adrina scanned the surroundings to find Griogair. If there was anyone that she wanted to accompany her it was him. The man was pleasant, and despite his size, she didn’t find him intimidating. And if she didn’t feel like conversing throughout the journey, she sensed that Rory’s younger brother would be more than willing to accommodate her silence.
But her gait faltered when she saw a man who was definitely not Griogair. This man was in the shadows, and at the moment, his back was turned to her. He possessed dark hair that fell to his broad shoulders. And even in the dim light, she could see his tall, lean build. There was no mistaking this Highlander’s warrior status. He must have heard her approach because he pivoted.
Her hands flew to her mouth as a sharp gasp escaped from her. “What are ye doing here? Where’s Griogair?”
A dark brow quirked as he took in her shock. “There has been a change in plans,” Duncan said, flashing his white teeth, his deep brogue sweeping over her skin like a caress. “I’ll be the one tae take ye home.”
“Couldnae some other man provide me escort?” she said, folding her arms over her chest, refusing to allow herself to fall for his charms.
“Why?” he asked. “Dinnae ye like me?”
“Nay,” she said, adamantly shaking her head. She didn’t know what she liked, but one thing was certain, she didn’t want to spend any time with him. The day before he was rude and obnoxious. And from watching him, it was clear that he also had the ability to turn on his charisma whenever he wanted. A sudden wave of irritation surged to her breast. In all honesty, she preferred to forget that she had ever met him. She had fooled herself in thinking that her dream lover was Duncan. It was someone else that bore a strong resemblance to him. That was all.
“Aiya, lass, ye sorely wound me,” he said, making an exaggerated movement to place a large hand over his heart.
“I doubt that ye have a heart tae wound,” she said, screwing up her face. She could see that his easy appeal could easily woo a woman. But she wasn’t a typical lass who was so easily
beguiled.
“Another arrow struck.” A mocking smile played on his mouth as he pretended to grasp an arrow at his chest.
“I refuse tae go with ye,” she said, pursing her lips.
The amusement in his eyes disappeared. “I’m afraid that ye have nay choice as the others are nae available tae take ye. Either ye accept my offer, or ye will remain at Tancraig Castle until further notice.”
“Ye cannae keep me here against my will,” she said, her fists clenching tightly at her side. “I’m nae a prisoner here.”
He shrugged, ignoring her anger. “Like I told ye, the choice is yours.”
Duncan moved over to adjust the saddle on the horse beside him. When he was finished, he turned his head. “Well, are ye coming?”
With a sinking feeling, she realized that she really had no choice. Instinctively, she knew that if she refused to go with him, he would follow through with his threat, and return her to the great hall. Then when she was in the confines of the keep, she was certain that Darra would prevent her from venturing out on her own. And until there was someone available to take her home, she would continue to be at the mercy of the MacGregons. She had already spent two days at Tancraig Castle. Could she risk losing more valuable time? A lot could have happened since she left Dunnvie. For all she knew, Fingal might have found new ways to torture her people.
“Give me a palfrey. Nay one has tae ken.” She placed a hand on Duncan’s forearm, making one last attempt to sway him. “’Twould be better off for the both of us if I left on my own…” Her voice trailed off as a surge of energy shot through her, causing her fingers to tingle. It was only a split second, but a surprised expression crossed his visage, as if he too felt the queer jolt that passed between them.
Duncan grabbed her by her slender waist, and quickly hoisted her on the horse, trying to ignore the electric current that rolled over him. What the hell was that? In his twenty-six years, he had never experienced anything like it. And even though he was mounted on his own steed, it puzzled him that her womanly scent still lingered around him.
He cast a glance in her direction. She was facing forward, unaware that he was studying her. While she was attractive, he had seen other lasses that were much more fair and definitely more receptive. It was apparent enough that she disliked him even though he tried to win her over. He usually preferred fair-haired lassies anyway, and this one possessed dark tresses and was tiny. And even though he towered over her, she displayed no hint of fear. In all regards, she was wrong for him. And everything logical indicated that he needed to keep his distance. Yet another part of him wanted to be near her, to know the taste of her lips, to feel her soft body underneath his…
He straightened his spine. Evidently, his judgment was becoming clouded. The warning signs were there, and they were becoming loud and clear. He needed to keep away from her despite the fact that she intrigued the hell out of him. If he was clever, then he needed to abandon these carnal thoughts before they led him further down the dangerous slope. No woman had ever affected him like this before, and no matter how alluring she was, he wasn’t going to allow this wee lass to distract him from his task.
***
By the time they rode for an hour, Adrina’s irritation had simmered down. There were several days of travel ahead, and the skyline stretched almost to infinity. She wasn’t certain how she had managed to travel for so many days without encountering any trouble. Although she would never admit it to Duncan, she was grateful for his presence.
As they continued on their way, he made no further attempts to engage her in conversation. She felt relieved by his inattention, since she was content with exploring her own dark counsel.
Adrina’s fingers automatically reached for her brooch, touching the familiar, smooth surface of the bloodstone. The gemstone was the color of dark moss and was shot with a spray of red speckles. It was an unpolished stone yet when it was held up to the light, it sparkled with breathtaking beauty. As far as she knew, no one else possessed an ornament such as hers. It had belonged to her great-grandmother, and since her mother didn’t care to have it, it was passed down to Adrina. As her thoughts touched on her mother, the rhythmic movement of the horse underneath her lulled her further into her past. But at the same time, her grip on the clasp tightened, as if somehow it gave her the strength to confront the memories.
The first time she had the vision, she had awoken with sweat pouring down her forehead and back. Her throat was dry as if she had been screaming. And maybe she had. The nightmare felt so real. As her parents were led to the executioner’s noose, she witnessed the stoic expression on her father’s visage, and the terror in her mother’s eyes. In the nineteen summers of her life, she had never known her father to fear anything. However today, even though he displayed little emotion, she sensed his fear.
“Halt!” she yelled at the executioner. “There has been a terrible mistake. Ye need tae release my parents. Ye need tae do it now.”
But the man neither heard nor saw her over the jeering of the crowd. She tried to run to her parents then, but it was as if she was stuck in thick mud, and she couldn’t get to them. But when she finally reached the platform, her dream ended, and she found herself back in her own bedchamber. The next morning, she discovered that her parents dined in the great hall as usual. And the rest of the day resumed as normal. Even so the nightmares continued to haunt her from one evening after another. And each time she witnessed the horrific scenes, she felt as frightened and as helpless as a babe.
Over time, she became used to the wild dreams, and she endured them for the most part. At one point she convinced herself that she was merely dealing with an overactive imagination.
However on the night before she struck out for Tancraig Castle, she had the awful dream again. But this time it was different — at least it felt different. Death seemed to linger in the air, as if it waited in the peripheral, and was ready to snatch her parents away. A small part of her hung onto the hope that it was only another night terror that plagued her. But deep down she believed that there was something more. And with this, she realized that she had to act upon her guidance before it was too late. Then armed with only the knowledge that she needed to get to Tancraig Castle, she fled her home —
“We’ll rest here for a bit before we continue on,” Duncan said, interrupting her gloomy recollections.
Adrina blinked at hearing his voice. She looked around her, and was astonished to discover a huddle of thatched houses in the distance.
CHAPTER 5
“Willnae stopping in this town delay my arrival at Dunnvie Castle?” Adrina asked, pulling at the reins to halt her horse. “My people are enchanted, and I can ill afford tae dally here.”
Duncan looked back at her, trying to contain his impatience. He thought that the task of accompanying the lass to her home would be simple, but throughout this journey, things weren’t as easy or as comfortable. He noticed little things about her like the fall of her soft hair, and the tilt of her stubborn chin. Since the forest was reasonably still, he could hear every noise, ever sigh she made. And as hard as he tried, he couldn’t block the image of her naked and lying on her back.
“I need whisky,” he said, unable to keep the irritation from creeping into his voice, “If your people are enchanted, then they can stay that way for a wee while longer.”
She scrunched up her pert nose, clearly not liking his answer. But he pressed his mount forward, his sights set on the small town in the skyline.
Behind him, he heard her utter an unladylike curse, which was then followed by the muffled steps of hooves trampling over vegetation. His smiled grimly. At least she wouldn’t fight him on this one.
But his victory was short-lived. Like an untried youth, the randy thoughts and frustrations continued to hound him. He needed either to bed the lass, or drown his lust with a drink. And since the former option was out of the question, veering off into the town of Cannpach was the best solution. True enough, the slight detour would c
ause a delay, but the visit into town would be well worth the trouble. His spirits lifted slightly as he thought of slaking his thirst. Every town in the highlands brewed their own version of whisky, but from what he could recall, the town of Cannpach made an exceptional variety.
A few minutes later, they rode through the main street, which was lined with houses. Glancing over at Adrina, he noted the slight frown that marred her pretty lips. He could easily guess what was going through her mind. But he planned to continue to ignore her resistance. They were already in town, and he still needed his drink.
Out of long habit, he scanned his immediate surroundings. Hints of blue smoke rose above the squat buildings, although there were few people on the street. But there was something about this place that seemed peculiar. Then it hit him. In every town newcomers were usually greeted by the bairns. And it was the children that dogged the strangers to wherever they went. Duncan looked down the empty street. Where were they?
“This way,” he said, leading Adrina toward the only tavern in the town.
At hearing the sound of horse hooves, a long-faced stable boy emerged from the back of the establishment. He waited silently for them to dismount and then took their horses away.
As they walked into the building, Duncan noticed the few men scattered in the common room. Two patrons sat by the entrance, and were engaged in deep conversation.
Spotting a couple of empty seats, he started to move toward them, but his eyes drifted back to the men. Correction. Only one of them was a man. The other, while large and stocky, was a greenhorn. The cocky, arrogant air that surrounded the lad reminded Duncan of his younger brother Cailean.
But it wasn’t their rough exterior that initially caught his notice; it was their curious tunic and hose, which stood out like a prickly thistle. No doubt they were sassenachs. But were they King Harold’s men, and if so, how did they get this far inland? It didn’t make sense. The last he remembered, the English troops were gathering forces several miles south of the Scottish border. The cavalry would have a difficult time moving a large number of men over Scotland’s unfamiliar and inhospitable terrain. Yet Harold’s men wouldn’t be camped at that site forever. Perhaps they were now on the move. There was also a possibility that Queen Gertrude’s spies were unaware of this mobilization. So were the enemies now making their way to Bracken Ridge? That idea brought a deep shudder to run through his body. If this was the case, then the clans might miss their opportunity to ambush the bastards at the pass. And with the English knights swarming inland before they were ready, their chances of victory would be lessened.
The Highland Curse (Scottish Strife Series Book 2) Page 4