Highland Stone

by Sloan McBride

  "Silence!" The chief's gaze encompassed the entire room. "Archibald, get the men together. This eve we ride to the Sutherlands."

  "Hold fast" rang out and the men charged from the room. Kara hid in the shadows, waiting for them to go.

  "Ye kin come out."

  She knew Alaxandar's voice. Moving into the light she said, "I almost got trampled again."

  "Aye." Alaxandar frowned. "Ye seem to be in the wrong place… again."

  She lowered her eyes but didn't admit she'd been eavesdropping. "They were in an awful hurry."

  "Aye. We be having a raid."

  "A raid?" Kara's head snapped up. "Killing?" She knew she had no right to ask. Her stomach seized.

  "I canna guarantee there willna be fighting."

  Kara's heartbeat accelerated. A flicker of fear danced along her spine and her heart plunged. Alaxandar's tense jaw and tight lips came into focus. Should she say anything more? What would be the point? She didn't belong here.

  Kara massaged her left temple to release the tension building in her head. He moved closer but didn't touch her. The heat in his eyes warmed her instantly in secret places. She wanted him to touch her.

  His hand reached out, inching toward her heated flesh, but fell away. "I must go." He brushed past her, his eyes now on the sea of sour-faced men gathering outside.

  Kara's panic grew. "Keep your fat head down," she called out.

  "Dunna worry," Alaxandar said in that smooth voice that made her tingle. "I shall return," he promised without breaking stride.

  She followed him to the bailey, her distorted gait sapping her strength. With a ragged breath, Kara stopped short at the sight of the assembled score of mounted men. Their terse look of determination renewed the fear in her heart. As the riders thundered through the gates, words her grandmother had written in the journal appeared in Kara's mind. Wars and savageness were a part of daily life. She blinked back tears, feeling foolish. Alaxandar lived this life every day. He knew how to take care of himself and he rode with all the others. Surely, there was safety in numbers. Why was she so worried anyway? It wasn't as though she knew him very well. What did it matter if something happened? Her stomach clutched.

  It did matter.

  She felt as though she'd known Alaxandar for a lifetime. He was something familiar to hold onto in this time of craziness.

  "He'll return," she murmured and limped back to the castle, and up to her room.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The men rode hard through the night with Drummond MacLeod in the lead and Alaxandar by his side. Mountains rose in the darkness when the chief raised his hand to halt the band of riders. Quietly, each warrior slipped off his horse and inched toward the meadow before them.

  Alaxandar had formed a plan of his own, a small raid to glean information. He motioned to Iain and Cuilén, who broke away from the group and headed toward the village sixteen furlongs up the road. It had been agreed between the brothers to visit Kilara, a young Sutherland girl Iain knew. From her, Alaxandar hoped to get useful information to help in his quest for the truth. It made no sense for the Sutherlands to kill a MacLeod. The reiving had gone on for years, but had always been an exchange of crops and cattle. No loss of life.

  Too many had died in recent events.

  A faint light shone through the window of the farthest cottage. Cuilén hid the horses behind some brush and stayed to keep watch. Alaxandar and Iain moved closer. Iain whistled and a young, buxom blond motioned for him to come in. Iain rushed through the door, picked the pretty girl up, and twirled her. "Hello, me beauty," Iain crooned. The girl giggled.

  Alaxandar appeared from the shadows. With wide eyes, the poor thing stared at him and squealed before hiding behind Iain's back.

  "Dunna fear, Kilara. 'Tis me bráthair, Alaxandar."

  Alaxandar smiled. "Aye, little dove, dunna fear."

  Timidly, she peeked around Iain. "Why be ye here?"

  "I wish only to ask ye some questions."

  She clung to Iain. "Questions?"

  Iain reached around and clutched her wrist, coaxing her from behind him. "Please, just listen." He chucked the tip of her nose which seemed to comfort her.

  Alaxandar gave her his best smile attempting to ease her discomfort before saying, "Have ye heard about the recent raids and killings?"

  Her sparkling green eyes looked to Iain first. Iain squeezed her hand which didn't escape Alaxandar's eye. He'd have to learn just how serious this relationship was between the young girl and his errant brother, but that would come later.

  "Aye, 'tis awful," Kilara whispered.

  "'Tis never happened before between our clans."

  "And 'tis not happening now," she said.

  "What do you mean, Kilara?" Iain asked.

  She turned to him. "A Sutherland wouldna harm women and children, Iain. 'Tis others doing the killing."

  Alaxandar stepped closer. "Have ye heard the chief or other clansmen speak of who it might be?"

  Kilara swung around. "I hear others talk about rogues and lowlanders," she sighed. "No one be certain."

  Disappointment etched Iain's brow. Alaxandar grasped Kilara's small hand. "Dunna speak o' our meeting, Kilara. It may put ye in danger."

  She gasped and Iain hugged her close. Alaxandar strode out the door while Iain spoke to Kilara in whispers. He'd definitely need to look into that relationship when he had more time.

  As quiet as the wind, Cuilén appeared with the horses. "Any luck?"

  "Aye," Alaxandar affirmed. "'Tis not the Sutherlands. There be others at work in this battle." He leaped onto the back of his stallion and headed toward the rest of the clan. Cuilén waited for Iain but both were close on Alaxandar's heels. Sounds of bleating sheep carried on the wind currents when Alaxandar rode to his father. MacLeod warriors grabbed sheep and tossed them onto the horses. At breakneck speed, the group fled back to the keep.

  At Dunvegan, the chief ordered the sheep herded to the field and they left the horses for the stable boys to handle. The men burst into the castle, hollering for ale and wanting to warm by the fire. It had been a successful raid.

  "'Twas a good night for reivers," one clansman hollered. The room erupted with boisterous agreement.

  "The killing of our clansmen must be avenged and so it shall," the chief shouted.

  "Aye!" the rest of the room saluted in unison with raised cups.

  Even though pride swelled through his clansmen, Alaxandar frowned into the roaring flames. This evening only confirmed what he'd already believed. The truth still eluded him. He noticed a small cloth on the chair next to his. Kara had used it to wrap her ankle. Alaxandar rubbed the piece between his fingertips and grew hard instantly. This mysterious woman kept him in a constant state of arousal.

  His father whacked Iain on the back. Iain spewed ale across the hall. The men laughed, bringing Alaxandar's thoughts back to the more serious problem. He approached his father to discuss what he'd learned.

  "The gel be certain?" his father asked.

  "Aye."

  "And ye believe she speaks true?"

  "I do."

  Drummond pounded his fist on the table causing several to cast glances his way. "Mayhap it be the Sassenanch king, stirring up trouble in the clans to weaken us."

  "That be a possibility, Father. We canna trust the English to keep their word," Iain spat out.

  "Aye." His father slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand. "Find these raiders, Alaxandar."

  Alaxandar nodded. He motioned to Ramsey when his father went for a tankard of ale. Ramsey was a master at stealth, and he had connections that Alaxandar did not.

  "I will handle the search here, but I need to find out what Edward has been doing of late," Alaxandar told Ramsey.

  "I shall leave at first light."

  "Be careful."

  "Ye need not say it."

  Ramsey, his countenance stiff, stalked from the room. Alaxandar knew he didn't have to tell his friend to be careful. Ramsey handled a
sword and dirk far better than even he himself. Still a dark foreboding lingered deep. He couldn't shake it.

  * * * *

  Break of dawn. Kara stretched, then reluctantly, dragged herself from the bed.

  Another restless night. Even after she'd seen the men had returned safely with their stolen sheep. Even after she'd glimpsed Alaxandar's strong profile, and her heart did a flip. How could an ancient Highlander take her breath away, and make her feel safe when her situation was so dire?

  In those wee hours, she'd have given anything to have Pogo, her stuffed cow and best friend, who had seen her through many a rough night. But she wasn't a kid anymore. Bursting with false bravado, she prepared to face whatever awaited her.

  She opened the door to find the guard. "Good morning," she said cheerfully. He bowed his head but did not reply. "You're not much of a talker, are you?" Kara couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw an almost smile on his face. Her ankle throbbed as she went cautiously down the stairs. She could use a cup of café mocha coffee about now.

  The hall bustled with activity.

  "Donnach crawled in just afore the morning broke," one stout dark-haired woman told another while she brushed the mud-strewn floor.

  "Aye, Fionn the ox dinna make it to the cottage," the other woman responded. "We shall not see them till late."

  Both women laughed. Kara heard snippets of similar conversations regarding the celebration after the raid. The fire flared bright and cozy against the brisk morning. Kara scanned the hall in search of Katherine to offer help if they needed it.

  A magnificently crafted broadsword leaned against the table. Her centurion shadow stood at the door speaking with a young serving girl. Unable to quash the curiosity of what it felt like to wield the magnificent weapon, Kara grabbed the hilt with both hands. A huge huff escaped when she tried to lift it. It proved heavier than she'd anticipated. She staggered backward, and would have fallen, had she not connected with a solid chest wall.

  "Allow me." A thick muscled arm grabbed the sword and wrenched it from her grasp.

  Kara turned to face Jamie MacLeod. To keep from tipping over, she rested her hands on his massive chest, but for only a moment. His intense green eyes squinted and his lips curled into a cold smile. The situation wasn't humorous. "Thank you." She stepped back, wanting to put more distance between them.

  "Och, lass, ye dunna need to scurry away."

  Her heart flew to her throat when he moved toward her. Frantically, she scoured the area looking for help.

  From out of nowhere, Alaxandar appeared, grabbed Jamie's shoulder, and spun him about. His jaw tightened and controlled rage shone in his eyes. "Leave now."

  Jamie's gaze hardened his spine rigid. Alaxandar stepped in front of Kara, shielding her from Jamie's sneer. The sword clattered to the floor before Jamie strode out of the hall and the castle. Kara released a heavy breath. "He hates me."

  "Dunna be silly. Jamie loves all women as often as he can." The gleam in Alaxandar's eye was all male.

  How could he dismiss so lightly what had just happened? Surely he sensed his cousin had some grudge against her. He looked refreshed and hearty, unlike her. She'd seen dark circles pooled under her eyes and creases from worry indenting her forehead when she'd looked in the polished silver she used for a mirror this morning. Bastard! How dare he look so rested and, yes, handsome.

  Alaxandar leaned down and picked up the sword. He flipped the handle in his hand.

  Kara shrugged. "I didn't realize it would be so heavy." That sounded lame and she knew it.

  "'Tis not heavy, gel. Ye need a firm grip."

  "Oh, is that all?" She managed a weak smile.

  He moved closer. "Aye. I kin help ye."

  Her eyes widened. "Thank you—no. I'll leave the sword swinging to the men." She raised her index finger to curtail further conversation. "Excuse me." She hurried toward the kitchen. Alaxandar's laughter followed her through the hall.

  The sun burned brighter as the day droned on. Men appeared at different intervals haphazardly dressed, scratching, and belching up remnants of the previous night's festivities. Bowls of porridge were set before them and they attacked it with hearty appetites.

  Kara stared at her bowl but couldn't summon the desire to eat. She watched servers bustle from table to table, refilling drinking cups, clearing dishes and slapping away the occasional lustful grab. Worry and panic flooded her mind and Jamie MacLeod took the lead. Katherine insisted on treating her like a guest and refused to allow her to do anything. In her normal life, her job as a volcanologist kept her busy from sunup to sundown. She missed the work. She wanted to be in Hawaii right now nervously trying to impress her colleagues and new boss. Sitting idle drove her nuts. Her ankle was tightly wrapped. She walked with a minimal limp. It wasn't as if a sprained ankle would keep her from doing normal everyday things.

  Her greatest challenge still waited. Based on her earlier thinking, the stone had to be the catalyst that brought her here. Of course, that's going on the assumption that she wasn't lying in a hospital bed somewhere, in a comatose state, and this was all playing out in her mind. It also meant that what Glynnis wrote in the journal was not science fiction fairytale, but true. Glynnis stole the stone from her clan. The logical goal would be to return it. But then what happens? Is she here for eternity? Glynnis stayed in the future. Questions, questions, and more questions. How does she return the clan stone to an ancestor she has no idea how to find? In a land that is foreign to her?

  Later that afternoon, Kara decided to scout around the grounds. She saw Leelah across the bailey and went to join her. The fresh air and sunshine would be welcome.

  The small, struggling garden on the eastern side of the keep brimmed with small buds waiting to bloom and enticing fragrances danced on the breeze. It again reminded her that she'd been on the way to Hawaii, a lifetime ago, to start a new job and a new life. I definitely got that.

  "Hi," Kara said when she caught up to Leelah.

  Leelah regarded her curiously.

  "I saw you walking and wondered if I might tag along. I'm restless. It must be this highland air." Kara gestured to the sky.

  "Aye, the air 'tis good here."

  "I know." Kara looked at the empty basket Leelah held. "So, where are you off to?"

  "I have deliveries of herbs and cloth to make." Leelah turned toward the keep before saying, "Would ye like to come along?"

  "Oh, yes," Kara replied. "Fresh air and a nice walk would be great."

  "Ye rest while I gather my things. My máthair would frown should ye do too much."

  "All right. I'll sit here on this rock and wait." Kara leaned back putting her palms flat and closed her eyes, allowing her skin to enjoy the warm caress of the sun's rays. She heard children laughing nearby and in the yard the ring of steel and horse bluster. From the stables came a lullaby sung in a clear tenor voice. Kara left her perch to peek inside. Cuilén, the middle brother, was brushing down a horse, calming the animal with his song. Funny the contradiction, to be soothing and gentle with animals, yet rage in a battle against men. She knew all the brothers had fought in battles over recent years by listening to various conversations.

  Leelah returned with a now overflowing basket. "Come."

  Unsure of what shape her ankle would be in after this excursion, but willing to risk it, Kara followed Leelah through the bailey and out of the gates. They traveled the same path Alaxandar had taken the night she'd met him, veering to the left toward a small village. In the distance, Kara saw several huts with straw roofs.

  This would be the perfect time to ask some questions, but she had to be careful not to leave Leelah suspicious of her motives. "May I ask you something?"

  "Aye."

  "I know the MacLeod lands are vast, but how far does it go?"

  "Sutherland be the closest clan. I couldna say how far. I have never ridden the length. Only the men travel the borders."

  "What other clans have you met?"

  "Ramsey came to us
and he be a MacLaren. I know of the MacKenzie and Sutherland clans, but no others."

  Kara nodded. Seemed rather limiting for women.

  Leelah stopped at several cottages passing out her goodies. She introduced Kara to everyone, not that Kara would remember many of the names. It amazed her how a family of five survived in such a small place. The dwelling had three rooms with dirt floors and a thatched roof. She could see why they'd been called black cottages. Smoke clouded the rooms until the door swung open to provide a wave of fresh air. She'd never again complain about how cramped her house seemed or about the lumps in her mattress. It certainly beat the hell out of sleeping on a rug in front of the fire.

  As the day waned, the journey through the glen became difficult for Kara. Her ankle pulsed with pain.

  "Ye must sit."

  "I'm fine." Kara lied.

  "I have eyes, Kara." Leelah stopped, looked around and said, "Come, I know a place where ye kin rest."

  Kara followed Leelah down a dirt path to a glade hidden in the forest. Rays of sunlight peeked through the surrounding fir trees casting a golden glow on a pool of crystal clear water. Thick healthy ferns showered by a small waterfall grew close by the rock formations at the pool's edge.

  "How beautiful." Kara eased her weight down on the soft grass.

  "I used to slip away and come here when I tired of the constant instructions given by me màthair or when I wanted solitude," Leelah said with a reverent sigh. "We kin cool our feet in the byrne."

  For a short time neither of them spoke, happy in their own thoughts.

  "So," Kara glanced at her companion. "Who is Ramsey? I don't believe I've met him."

  "'Tis me betrothed, Ramsey is." Leelah smiled. "He has been away tending stock in other fields."