Highland Seer

by Willa Blair

  Ellie planted her hands on her hips and stomped up to the old man. “Ye willna be settling any scores. We’ve the Lathans for that and we’ll leave them to it. Assuming we ever prove who attacked ye.”

  “Have ye any doubt, lass? They’re lounging in our hall at this moment. Lookin’ like they own it. As I expected they would do, once ye told me what happened outside.”

  Ellie cocked an eyebrow and sighed her displeasure. “There’s naught we can do about the MacDuffs until the Lathans get back.” She turned back to the window as another thought occurred to her. “Unless...”

  “What?” Fergus, Micheil and Nan spoke in unison, pinning her with their hopeful gazes.

  “We need to send a ghillie out the postern gate to find Donal and the others. We ken their route. They shouldna be that hard to locate.”

  “That’s good, Laird,” Fergus said, nodding his approval. “Corum is our fastest.” He moved to the door, then paused. “I believe I need another walk to help speed along my recovery.” His tipped his head to one side and whispered. “I’ll find him and send him—quietly—on his way.”

  Ellie nodded. “Tell him to leave the postern unlocked when he goes. It’ll be the only way the Lathans can get back in without alerting the MacDuff’s men.

  Fergus winked and left the room. Ellie exchanged a glance with Micheil and Nan. “No’ a word to anyone,” she warned them. “No’ one word. Someone opened that gate to MacDuff. I dinna ken who. We must keep this to ourselves and no one else. If word gets back to any of our visitors,” she added with a grimace at the irony in the word, “they’ll find the postern and put a guard on it. Our best hope is surprise.”

  “Aye,” they chorused softly. Nan bent back to her stitching and Micheil continued drinking while she did it.

  Ellie stared out the window, seeing nothing but the snowstorm raging outside. Corum would make it through the pass, she was sure. But could he run far enough, fast enough, to find help in time to save her from the MacDuff?

  ****

  Donal couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He kept glancing around, but the woods were empty of all save his men, the wagons, and the chirping of birds unworried by their passage. They would reach the first village in time for the midday meal. The trees were already thinning out. Through them, he could make out the beginnings of cultivated fields gone fallow for the winter.

  They’d passed through the area of the first attack on the wagons without incident, then made some small deliveries to farmsteads over the last two days. The village ahead marked the beginnings of more populated areas, with another village or small town every few miles beyond it on their route. As the wagons got lighter and lighter from exchanging full barrels for empties to be taken back to MacKyrie and refilled, they would be able to travel faster, sometimes on a rough cart path or even a well-traveled road that ran between the settlements.

  Aye, the worst of the journey should soon be behind them. The MacKyries were well known to the people on their route. They had places where they’d be welcome to spend the night before going on about their business the next day. With the rest of the Lathans as escort, they’d be fine from here on out.

  It was time to go back. Ellie MacKyrie had been on Donal’s mind constantly since he’d left her keep. He couldn’t get her laughter or her kiss out of his mind. He kept replaying the scene in the solar, her in his arms, touching him, driving him to the brink with need for her. Her smile. Her determination to make everything right for her clan. Aye, she was stronger than she looked, stubborn even. She’d held her clan together without much help, even while she held to her ideal of what her new husband should be. What she thought her vision showed her. She was smart, too. She’d matched wits with Jamie, no small feat. And managed to back Donal into a corner, something no woman had ever done. He snorted and shook his head.

  He never ran, not from anything. But he’d run from her. Aye, he’d convinced himself he wanted time away to think. To clear his head. Yet, he’d run from the attention of a lass. One he now realized he wanted as much as she appeared to want him. What kind of fool did that make him?

  Aye, it was time to go back to face the MacKyrie. He’d do a bit of negotiating on his own. For what he had in mind, he neither needed nor wanted Jamie’s help.

  Then Donal heard the pounding of horse’s hooves headed in their direction. A lone rider appeared at the crest of the hill ahead of them, coming hard from the village. Was there trouble ahead?

  He heard a faint shout. “Lathans! Donal!” Looking for him? Here? Lately it seemed that trouble found him, no matter where he went. Donal spurred his horse ahead of the wagons and rode up to meet this trouble, surprised to see a lad he knew. Will, from the MacKyrie keep, who had trained under him.

  “What’s amiss, lad? How did ye find us?”

  Will sucked in air, gasping with the effort of riding hard and shouting.

  “Take a breath, laddie. What are ye doin’ lookin’ for us?”

  “I was hunting,” he gasped. “Out in the woods, near the pass. MacDuff!”

  A frisson of unease skittered down Donal’s back.

  “MacDuff with a lot of men, more than usual, headed for the keep. A dozen or more. I kept to the woods. They didna see me. After they passed, I kenned I had to find ye. They mean to take MacKyrie, I’m sure of it.”

  “Aye lad, I’m sure ye have the right of it.”

  Donal thought for a moment. By then, the wagons caught up and Forbes signaled them to a halt.

  “Trouble?”

  “Aye, and plenty of it. MacDuff.” From the look on everyone’s faces, nothing more needed to be said.

  “How did ye find us, lad?” Forbes asked.

  “I’ve ridden this route before. I kenned where ye might be by now, and rode hard straight to the next village up the line. When they said they hadna seen ye yet, I backtracked until I found ye.”

  “Good lad, Will,” Donal told him. “Ye’re a clever one.”

  “Ye have to go back. Ellie is going to need yer help.”

  Donal nodded. It was past time to go. He’d never forgive himself if he arrived too late to put a stop to the MacDuff’s plans.

  “Ye’ll stay with the wagons, lad. Ye’ve done yer part and done it well.” Donal turned to his men. “I’ll ride hard. Without the wagons slowin’ me down, I’ll be through the pass soon after nightfall. Bram and I can easily handle a dozen MacDuffs, especially if they dinna expect me to be there. They’ll never ken what hit ’em. Ye three stay with the wagons and take care of these lads.”

  “Are ye sure ye dinna want one of us to ride with ye?” Alpin asked.

  “Nay. I’ll travel faster and with less notice alone. The MacKyries ken where they’re goin’ but they still need an escort.”

  “Verra well,” Forbes agreed. “We’ll get them where they need to go—and back again.”

  “Jamie will be back soon, aye?” Alpin asked.

  “Probably not this soon. But aye, perhaps in a day or two. If no’ Jamie, then men he’s sent.”

  “What do ye need before ye go?”

  “I’ve enough food left to get me by until I get back to the keep. I’ll see ye in a few days, aye?”

  “Or weeks at the rate these coos plod along,” Forbes replied. “Go on with ye, then. I can see ye’ve made yer mind up to do this alone.”

  That he had.

  Now that it appeared the MacDuff had made his move, Donal’s urgency was even greater. He’d take care of MacDuff. Then, when he saw Ellie, he’d find out if his longing for her was real or the simple need of a man too long without a woman. The kind of need any toss-skirt could relieve.

  And if Ellie had realized in his absence that Bram would suit her purposes as well as he? Then that would be an answer, too. Not that he would agree to it without fighting for her. Nay, not with Bram. With Ellie. He would convince her she’d been right and he’d been wrong to leave her. He’d come to his senses where she was concerned. He’d not allow her to lose hers over
another man.

  “Have a care,” Alpin told him, reaching up to touch the hilt of the claymore slung over his back. “Just because we didna see any bandits on the way here doesna mean they dinna exist.”

  “Aye, I hear ye,” Donal responded and gestured at the wagons. “Stay out of the whisky and stay sharp. The fact that they’re known in these parts doesna mean anything, either.”

  Both Forbes and Alpin nodded. Innis rode up from behind the wagons in time to hear the last comment.

  “Ye’re leavin’ us?”

  Donal turned his mount’s head and the horse obediently circled back the way they’d come.

  “I am.” He gestured to Forbes and Alpin. “They’ll tell ye what’s happened. Get ye back in one piece, aye?”

  Chapter 17

  Ellie surveyed the great hall from the high table as she waited for the evening meal to be served. Lachlan MacDuff took his meal in her rightful place in the laird’s seat. One of his men filled the seat on her other side where normally Micheil or Bram would be keeping her company, telling stories. Instead, Micheil glared at the MacDuff from a lower table and Bram, she prayed, was still in the stables. Alive. Ellie frowned at Micheil and stared pointedly at his bandaged arm, trying to tell him without words not to give the MacDuff any more reason to keep an eye on him than he already had. But Micheil refused to meet her gaze. Ignoring her? Perhaps not. Seeing her beside the MacDuff had to be painful for Micheil. He regretted advising her to accept MacDuff. He would not be able to bring himself to blame her for this situation. So he likely focused all his ire where he thought it belonged—the MacDuff. Ellie wanted to reach out to Micheil, but she didn’t dare draw any regard his way.

  Instead, she accepted her meal, then played with the food on her plate, nibbling enough to convince MacDuff that she was eating. Finally unable to sit there any longer, she rose. “If ye’ll excuse me, Lachlan, I’ve much to do. I’d best be about it.”

  “Nay, lass. Ye’ll stay here, beside me. Sit.” MacDuff pointed at her chair.

  Ellie froze, unable to believe he meant to go so far as to control her movements within her keep. She kept her voice low as she frowned and resumed her seat. The weight of many gazes prevented her from ignoring him and walking away. Not just Lachlan MacDuff’s. Her clan watched, too. “Have I gone from laird to slave, then, that I dinna have the freedom of my own keep?”

  “Yer keep?” He shook his head, took a bite, chewed and swallowed it before he replied. “Nay, lass. No’ anymore. And ye ken what will happen if ye disobey me.”

  What could she do? There were too many of her people near at hand. At risk. People she was responsible for. She was trapped between them and Lachlan MacDuff’s ambitions. She fought back tears of frustration, then gasped as she saw Micheil start to rise. Nay, she had to stop him.

  “Very well, Laird MacDuff. I’ll stay with ye.”

  That stopped Micheil before he’d left his seat. He slowly lowered himself back into it, his gaze locked on hers. Had he so little sense after this morning’s events he’d attack the MacDuff barehanded? She met his gaze and shook her head, then widened her eyes, beseeching him to behave.

  Finally, he nodded and turned to his food.

  Ellie exhaled in relief.

  “’Tis good yer man obeys ye,” MacDuff said quietly.

  Ellie sat too close to miss the menace in his tone.

  “I’d hate to have to kill him in the middle of a meal.” He smirked at his man beside him, then tossed back the rest of the ale in his cup.

  Ellie closed her eyes and willed herself to calmness. Shrieking at the MacDuff would get her and her people exactly nowhere. “If ye harm him in the least again,” she replied softly, “I willna cooperate.”

  He turned to face her, as stern as a parent schooling a child. “Then yer people will suffer for it, lass. Never forget that. Their well-being depends on ye.”

  “I havena forgotten it, Lachlan. ’Tis a fact I’ve lived with since I became laird, as ye well ken. But if ye imagine I will be a biddable wife to ye, then let us have an understanding.” She returned his stare, fighting to look as stern and formidable to him as he did to her. “My people willna be harmed in any way.” Her jaw tightened. “Ever.”

  “The only understanding we’ll have, lass, is that ye’ll do as I say, with nary an argument, or yer people will suffer. As ye sow, so they will reap, aye?”

  Ellie’s stomach roiled. What choice did she have? With Donal gone, along with most of his men, she could not physically fight the MacDuff, nor could Bram take them all on at once. Nay, she couldn’t openly defy Lachlan MacDuff. He clearly had no patience for it. He’d warned her again that her people would suffer. She didn’t dare risk their safety to make a point. She must bide her time and wait for Donal’s return, or for the arrival of the men from the treaty clans Jamie had promised.

  Perhaps Lachlan didn’t know she’d signed the treaty! For a moment, Ellie saw a ray of hope. He would not be expecting trouble until the Lathans he’d already met returned with the whisky wagons. Though how she would explain the situation in time to keep the MacDuff from ambushing the newcomers, she didn’t know. She prayed Corum got to them first with the news. If she could hold out for a few more days, the MacKyries would stand a chance of surviving the MacDuff invasion.

  “Answer me, Elspeth.”

  “Aye, I hear ye, Lachlan.”

  His hands clenched into fists. “Ye hear me? Is that all?”

  Ellie tensed, trying not to cringe. Had she pushed too hard? “Is it no’ enough? I will do as ye bid. Is that what ye want me to say?”

  “I can see ye will continue to fight me at every turn.” Lachlan sighed, surprising her. Now what?

  “I’d hoped to do this with more ceremony, but ye leave me with little choice.”

  Ellie’s heart beat faster. What did he mean? What was he going to do?

  MacDuff stood, rapping on the table for attention as he gained his feet. “In order to make my claim perfectly clear and prevent any further resistance or any interference by outside parties,” he said and paused to look at Ellie, then back out at the people in the hall, “I’ve decided to dispense with the posting of the banns. Laird MacKyrie and I will be wed tomorrow at sunset.”

  Ellie couldn’t contain her gasp as her heart leapt to her throat. Nay! Her head started spinning. She knew she must be pale as a ghost. She choked, fighting to keep from crying out. Not yet! Not so soon! She couldn’t find the breath. And even if she could, she didn’t dare try to speak around the lump in her throat.

  A low-rumbled muttering began to echo around the hall. The MacDuff continued speaking as if there’d been no reaction to his announcement from her or anyone else. “The cook will prepare an appropriate feast of celebration to follow the ceremony. I’ll expect every member of this clan to attend to witness our union.”

  “Nay!” Micheil shouted. He stood so abruptly that his chair toppled over backwards. His movement served as catalyst, causing MacKyrie males, young and old, to attack the MacDuff clansmen scattered throughout the hall.

  Ellie leapt to her feet, then blanched to see her young lads swinging fists at the big MacDuff warriors.

  Micheil pulled his dirk and went after one of the MacDuffs, who pulled his sword.

  The fight ended almost before it started, since the MacKyries hadn’t a hope of winning. Several of her people lay unconscious and bleeding. Others, Micheil among them, stood at swordpoint, awaiting the laird’s justice.

  Ellie glanced at Lachlan MacDuff. He sprawled in his chair, sipping ale, watching the aftermath of the fight with an amused expression Ellie feared more than his anger. She’d seen him like this before. In this mood, he was as likely to kill someone as not.

  “See how yer people defend ye, Laird MacKyrie,” he taunted. “Willing to lay down their lives to protect yer sacred honor. How touching.”

  “Dinna harm them, Lachlan, or I swear, this wedding will never take place if I have to kill myself to prevent it.”


  “Aye, ye could do that. But the result would be the same. I would control yer holdings. Of course, I would miss ye, Ellie, and the pleasures we’ve yet to experience as man and wife.”

  Bile rose in Ellie’s throat, despite the fact that she’d eaten very little. She clenched her fists against it. “I can’t imagine taking any pleasure with ye, Lachlan.”

  “Perhaps no’,” he answered mildly. “It doesna matter to me whether ye do or nay. I will have mine, with ye or with the women of yer clan, since ye dinna plan to be alive to divert me.”

  Gods, was this to be her fate in life? To go from being a new bride to a widow inside of weeks, then years later to be forced by a much older man to choose between death and dishonor? And disgust? She looked out over the great hall. Her people were watching her, waiting for her to save their lives or seal their fate. She had to prevent this travesty of a marriage, but she could not do so at the cost of her peoples’ lives or the rape of her clanswomen. Her eyes watered but she stiffened her spine. She would not cry. She must be strong for her people, to give them hope that somehow this nightmare would end. Some of them were barely more than bairns, for God’s sake, and Lachlan’s men held dirks to their throats. She’d always suspected the MacDuff had a cruel streak in him, but seeing her suspicions proven right gave her no comfort.

  “Tell yer men to stand down, Lachlan. Release my people. I willna fight ye.”

  “Very wise, my dear.”

  At his nod, his men released their prisoners and stepped back.

  “Go on, everyone. Begin the preparations for tomorrow’s festivities. I look forward to celebrating properly with my new bride.”

  Ellie glared at Micheil.

  He nodded and dropped his shoulders.

  Now was neither the time nor the place for heroics. His had nearly killed some of his kinsmen. Even the youngest were at risk. The MacDuff men had shown her that.

  She saw one of them talking to Sawney, her steward. Something seemed odd. The old man looked defeated, shoulders slumped, with a gray pallor to his skin Ellie didn’t like at all. But it made sense he would be in charge of much of the preparations. She dismissed her ripple of unease as she observed their intense conversation. Then Lachlan stood and placed a proprietary hand on her shoulder, diverting her attention.