With a frown at Ronan, Hamish knelt at the hearth, pulled the stringy bark off of a log, struck flint with his dirk and coaxed the sparks to life. He added twigs and wood until the flames rose high then set the blackened pot of water over top.
“What do you need of me?” Ronan brushed in behind her as she stood at Gordon’s bedside, his hand smoothing discretely down her back.
“Remove Gordon’s boots and chainmail. When he awakens, I want him as comfortable as possible.” She delved deeper within Ronan’s mind and began to fuse a stronger link between them. Filaments of gold spun thicker as she created a merged link of the mind, one that would allow her to go beyond just reading his thoughts to speaking to him mind to mind, a link she’d only ever created with one other when her ability had strengthened enough to do so. Ten years of age she’d been, her friendship with Fiona steadfast and sure. Along the golden strands, she allowed her next words to flow to him. “Take absolute care. Hamish’s seer ability means he misses little, and being one of the full-blooded fae, his skill is the strongest I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ll take every precaution, my mate.” He eased Gordon’s boots off and set them against the wall out of the way. “I’ve been waiting for you to build a merged link of the mind with me. Those who hold your skill always form such a link with their mate, as well as with a few of their most nearest and trusted.”
“I’ve only ever opened such a connection with a childhood friend of mine. Fiona held a touch of fae blood, a skill as well, her father being the MacKenzie’s second-in-command. We played together often, got into a good deal of trouble when we did as well.”
“’Tis incredible to have you speak to me in this way, for me to be able to answer you in return.” He lifted Gordon’s arm out of the heavy sleeve of metal, slid the protective mail over his head then down his other arm. With a clunk, he set it beside Gordon’s boots. “You’ve never spoken mind to mind with Coll or Duncan?”
“Nay.” It had seemed too intimate, and even though she currently wished to know how Coll’s mission fared and exactly where he was, she would never be able to cross the wide expanse of distance between them. She couldn’t even reach her parents, not that she would have done so even if she could. They would have come for her, placed their very lives on the line when they did. “There are limits to my ability. Since I’ve been without someone to guide me in the use of it, I lack the skill to do all that I likely could.”
“A little training is all that will take, and I’ll ensure you receive that guidance the first moment I can. Tell me more about Fiona.” His longing to know everything about her, all that had happened these past twenty years, flared strongly through his mind, just as she longed to know everything about him.
“Somewhere within Fiona’s own line the blood of the fae had mingled with hers, although several generations removed. She was the first to have been born with a skill in quite some time, although her empath ability was one Colin MacKenzie considered weak and feeble. She was grateful though, that he showed no interest in her.” She set the paste aside and gathered some clean cloths. “She wed a warrior of her father’s choosing last year and soon after she and Matthew left for Rhue Castle to aid Jeremiah. I missed her dreadfully when she sailed away.”
“I’ve never met Jeremiah in battle, but I’m aware Colin’s third-born son is a warrior of immense strength and now holds his own stronghold to the far north of MacKenzie land.” He loosened the ties of Gordon’s chausses and wriggled them down over his braies, his gaze flicking toward Hamish who checked on the bubbling water.
“Jeremiah is a blackguard just as his father is. Thankfully I’ve never had to spend a great deal of time with him since he was fostered with the MacLennans.”
“Does Gordon yet stir?” Hamish added another log.
“No’ as yet.” And he’d better not either until Ronan had ridden for Ardan and had gotten safely away. She hardly needed Gordon speaking of what had happened before they were ready for him to. Having her chosen one tossed into the dungeons by Gordon wasn’t permissible. She’d never allow it.
“What of you, Rand? How did word reach you of Coll’s call-to-arms?” Hamish rose and dusted his hands.
“Through word of mouth.”
“Hamish, Rand would never harm anyone within this keep. That I can assure you.” She motioned for Ronan to remove the bandaging from around Gordon’s head and wrist. “He has only ever aided me each time we’ve met.”
“You clearly champion the man, my lady.” He dipped his head in reverence to her.
“Aye, I do, for I already know he means us no harm.” She swished to the fire, dunked a cloth in the bubbling water and returned to Gordon. Ronan unraveled the bandages and she gently cleansed Gordon’s wounds before smearing the plantain paste she’d prepared across his flesh.
“Will he awaken when you stitch his wounds?”
“Nay, and I’ll make certain of it.” She selected a bottle of belladonna from her medicinal box, dabbed some onto a cloth and draped it over Gordon’s nose. The strongly scented sedative would ensure he felt no pain while she stitched his wounds, with the added benefit of keeping him in a deep sleep until she was ready for him to awaken.
She collected her needle and thread, pulled the three-legged stool across from the corner to Gordon’s bedside and rolled the sleeve of his brown tunic to his elbow. Carefully, she stitched his wounds closed with nice and neat stitches.
“Since it appears Gordon is at rest and shall be for a while we’ll leave for Ardan now.” Hamish crossed to Ronan. “Do you still wish to offer your sword arm to our cause?”
“Aye, and I’m more than ready to leave.” Ronan caught up his bag from where she’d set it.
“Good.” Hamish opened the door and motioned for Ronan to go through first. “Kyla, send word if any issue arises with Gordon, otherwise we’ll see you on our return.”
“Of course.” She snuggled deeper into Ronan’s mind. “Be careful.”
“Stay right with me, for as long as you can. I already crave this connection and have no desire for you to close it off.” He strode out the door and clomped downstairs, his booted tread drifting away.
“Dinnae forget what I said afore. Hamish has been instrumental in ensuring all has gone well of late, his knowledge immense. Tell him the truth, allow him to aid you as needed. He would never harm a Matheson.” Moving deeper within his mind, she tracked his thoughts and movements, her connection to him strong, far stronger than it had ever been with Fiona.
“I willnae forget, my mate.” Through the main door, he walked and as he crossed the inner bailey, he surveyed all, from the training warriors to the position of each and every guard along the battlements. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
* * * *
The last thing Ronan wished to do was leave Kyla behind, but ensuring her betrothal to Duncan came to a swift end, that the man understood the two of them were mated and he intended on making Kyla his bride, was imperative. He had a great deal to do, would need to act fast. Seeking out her parents as well couldn’t be delayed.
Across the inner courtyard, he walked while a good score of warriors trained. Shirtless and sweaty, they fought partnered up, each strike of their blade landing with accurate precision against their opponent’s. These men were strong, fully prepared for the war which raged across these lands and throughout the Western Isles. Glad he was none would strike a Matheson, only why had Coll and Duncan made that stipulation with their warriors? Something was up, something he intended to get to the bottom of.
“This way.” Hamish led him toward the men’s barracks at the edge of the bailey. “I need to collect a few things afore we leave.”
“I’m afraid I didnae bring a horse since I had to cross the hills. The land is treacherously steep and heavily forested.” A truth. The land was rugged, dangerously so.
“Aye, even our men dinnae take to those hills on horseback. I’ll secure you a horse without issue.” Hamish walked insid
e the garrison’s front door and Ronan followed, passed dozens of bunked pallets as he strode to the far side.
An unlit fireplace stood at one end of the room and racks of armor gleamed under its flickering light. A young lad of mayhap eight or nine sat on a stool in a brown tunic and breeches. He meticulously cleaned chainmail and weaponry, a large whetstone at his feet and his fingers black with oil.
From within a shelved nook, Hamish snagged a satchel and stuffed a steel-studded coat inside before he hunkered down next to the lad. “I’m returning to Ardan House and taking with me a possible new recruit. Inform the guardsman on duty for me, and let him know I’ll return as soon as possible.”
“Aye, sir.” The lad scrambled to his feet then stumbled to a stop in front of Ronan and bobbed his head, his mop of unruly dark hair flopping forward over his brow. “My laird, welcome home,” he murmured then dashed out the door.
“He thinks you’re Coll, as I first did, and as I imagine a number of the men here will when they catch a decent glimpse of you.” Hamish tipped his head toward the door. “Come. We’ll head through the postern gate to the stables. That way we willnae draw too much unwanted attention to you.”
“How many men guard this stronghold?” With a brisk pace, he weaved around the perimeter of the yard and out the postern gate with Hamish.
“Over a hundred, with another hundred at Duncan’s keep a little farther along the loch, although our hope is to double our numbers at both strongholds.”
“Coll and Duncan prepare well.” He followed the stony walkway around the curtain wall toward the stables which sat at the edge of the forest where the trees butted up against the cliffs. A gangly-legged lad in loosely belted pants brushed down a sleek brown war horse, while two armed warriors mounted their steeds then galloped into the bordering forest.
“They must during this time of war.” Hamish nodded at the stable lad. “I’m in need of two saddled mounts, and be quick about it.”
The lad scurried inside and disappeared within the darkened depths of the stables.
Eyeing him with great curiosity, Hamish leaned against the wide doorway, tapped the heel of one booted foot within the dirt and hummed under his breath. “Interesting.”
“You’ve seen something?”
“That I have.” He touched his head. “Glimpses of you within visions, and enough to tell me that Rand isnae your true name.”
“My need to speak to Duncan is twofold, yet primarily involves Kyla.” The seer definitely held a strong ability.
“’Tis clear to see you hold her trust, unwaveringly so. She is a woman with a tender heart and gentle hand, and there isnae a warrior here who wouldnae lay down his life for hers. I also ‘see’ that you’d be the first one standing in line to do so.”
“Tell him I’m in your mind, have seen and heard all he’s said.”
“You are persistent, my mate.”
“And I always shall be. Give Hamish your trust. He willnae have you tossed into the dungeons.”
With a deep breath, he nodded at Hamish. “What if I told you Kyla speaks to me now? Has formed a merged link of the mind?”
“Then that would mean she’s told you of her fae blood, and if that’s the case then it appears you’ve garnered far more than just her trust.”
“Aye, that is true.” A seagull soared overhead, cackled then dove into the tumbling waters of the loch before heaving back up out of the white-capped surf with a fish flapping from its beak.
“I—” Hamish’s gaze clouded over. He squeezed his eyes shut then moments later opened them again. “Aye, there is no doubt in my mind now of your identity. You’re Ronan Matheson, Niall’s son, and since your father has recently completed the bond with my sister, that makes you and I very close kin. This is beyond interesting.” He pushed off the doorway, paced back and forth. “I see more. You long to visit your father, to ensure all is truly well with him even though your sister has made contact with him through her fae skill.”
“My father has chosen to remain with Muirin instead of returning to the village and that I cannae fault him for. They are soul bound.”
“Two horses saddled, sir.” The lad led two black destriers out, handed the reins of one to Hamish and the other to him.
As Hamish strapped his bag onto his horse, he thanked the lad then bounded into his saddle and eyed Ronan. “We must travel swiftly since Duncan will wish to speak to you, just as you wish to speak to him. Although I shall pave the way in making your coming meeting easier. What your father has learnt of recently, so too will you.”
“Whatever aid you can offer me will be greatly appreciated.” He fastened his satchel to his horse’s saddle, checked the cinch and mounted. Reins slapped against his beast’s neck, he galloped out of the yard right alongside Hamish. They rode up the cliff side trail, the waves crashing in on his left and the forest rising high on his right. Leaving Kyla behind hurt, each stride his horse took making his gut gnaw in the most vicious way. ’Twas pure agony when his emotions battled so strongly against each other. All he wanted to do right now was turn his mount back around and return to her. “How do you fare?”
“Better now Hamish is aware of who you are.” Softly spoken words that curled around his senses.
“Tell me exactly what Kyla means to you.” Lying low in his saddle, Hamish jumped over trailing tree roots, the higher branches skimming his head.
“She’s the woman I’ve been searching for my entire life, the woman I intend to wed, or at least I shall once I’ve spoken to Duncan and explained to him the intricacies of the mated bond, that I’ll never allow him to speak vows with her. She is my chosen one.” He rode hard as the skies darkened overhead.
“And now I have my answer for why she championed you so strongly.” Approval flickered in Hamish’s eyes. “In all honesty, I never did see her marrying Duncan even though word of their betrothal made its way to me this morn.”
“Speaking of her betrothal. Kyla fears Colin MacKenzie’s wrath and his threat to harm her parents should she ever go against his demand to wed one of his sons. I intend to make certain her parents learn of what’s occurred, that they take every precaution to guard and protect themselves against any possible attack, action I’ll need to take as soon as I’ve spoken to Duncan.” He tucked himself lower and tighter against his horse’s neck as they weaved up the winding trail. Stones scattered along the gravelly track, flew over the cliff’s verge and rapped down the rock face before disappearing into the churning, watery depths below.
“I’ll aid you as you need.” Knees tight to his horse’s flanks, Hamish nudged his mount on. “It truly is time for the fae to live. Past time. I’m also well aware Duncan wants you fighting on our side, had even intended on offering you a lucrative incentive to sway you, that’s afore our fae princess arrived and rescued you from Carron’s dungeons. Cherub has no knowledge of exactly why Muirin and I are here, but she soon will. All happens as it should, in its own time and even we fae cannae fight against that.”
“You said you would pave the way in making my coming meeting with Duncan easier. What is it my father has learnt of recently, that so too will I?”
“Aye, I shall speak of that now. Prepare yourself.” Hamish breathed deep, as if he too prepared himself. “Coll and Duncan hold fae blood.”
“Pardon?”
“’Tis past time you were made aware, just as your father has been.”
“Tell me all.” Shock rippled through him.
“Your father had a younger sister by the name of Beth. Are you aware of her, of how she came to pass away?”
“Aye. She died the year I was born. My father spoke of her often during my childhood, his love for her strong. She held the skill of death-warning and during a time of peace between clan Matheson and clan MacKenzie, she handfasted with a MacKenzie warrior. She conceived and after a difficult labor gave birth to twins, both of whom passed away. My father’s sister perished along with them. A tragedy for certain.”
“’Twa
s no’ one of the MacKenzie’s warriors whom Beth handfasted with, but Colin MacKenzie himself, and the two babes she carried survived, didnae perish as she did.”
Surely not. His father had never heard that truth. “Are you certain?”
“Beyond certain. Colin MacKenzie kept Beth locked within her chamber, although a few days afore Beth’s death she saw a vision through her skill. Beth saw her own demise and she pleaded with Colin to send a message to Grace, her childhood friend who held the same skill as her.”
“Grace? As in Kyla’s mother?” More shock.
“Aye, and after Grace arrived at Beth’s bedside, she gave Beth her word she’d watch over her newborn babes. Grace kept her promise, even remained at the MacKenzie’s stronghold for the first three years of Coll and Duncan’s lives, until the day when war once again broke out between the clans and she was forced to return to her village or else become a pawn in the war.”
Hell, Coll and Duncan were Beth’s sons, which meant they were his cousins. Along with shock, anger and frustration coursed fiercely through him. Damn the MacKenzie. Now he understood why Coll and Duncan had never raised a hand in battle against a Matheson. They couldn’t slay one of their own fae kind any more than he could. “I wish I’d known sooner. Why did Grace keep the knowledge of their true parentage to herself? She has never spoken a word in all these years, could so easily have done so.”
“Grace had no choice, just as Coll and Duncan never have. Kyla either. Coll and Duncan only learnt the truth about their birth at the age of eight when Grace had a vision of them and returned to the MacKenzie’s keep to warn the boys, just as Beth had asked her to do should such a thing occur.”
“Mama took me with her that night. ’Twas only a few days afore the MacKenzie returned to the village and abducted me.” Solemn words, heavy and filled with such pain and heartache. “At the time Mama needed to ensure the boys understood exactly what must be done to safeguard their future. She told them to never raise a hand against a Matheson, for to do so would be to harm their own kind. Only a handful of people have ever known the truth about their fae heritage, and you now are amongst that small number.”
Highlander's Bride: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 1) Page 7