He stopped, when Tam cast him a sideward glance, narrowing his pale eyes.
‘—or perhaps not.’ The two warriors grinned at the personal joke, realising the Samurai would not find it amusing.
‘Now go!’ Reece urged. ‘Do what you must, and do not stray far. I sense…’ He paused, listening to every sound and movement his heightened senses alerted him to.
‘You sense something?’ Tam prompted.
Reece hesitated. ‘No,’ he replied, dismissing it. ‘However, I think your senses have dulled from the lack of nourishment. Go!’
Making his way towards the forage of trees, Tam stalled then turned to his friend. ‘I swear to you: no harm will come to your family.’
Reece smiled back at the Highlander, before he vanished from sight.
Family, he thought. There was something comforting in the word. Still, it would take some time to get used to, again; nonetheless, he would gladly embrace its welcome return.
In his moment of reflection, Reece was interrupted by his perception—aware of a presence behind him. He tilted his head back, inhaling their scent.
‘Is my wife dying?’
Rosalyn froze.
How the hell did he know? she thought.
‘Well?’ he persisted, turning swiftly.
She flinched at his rapid movement, suddenly finding herself face to face with her father’s scrutinising eyes. His sudden closeness had been unexpected, throwing her off balance. Her shawl fell from her shoulders when the lantern she was holding, flew from her hand. Reece moved quickly. Rosalyn stared, amazed, as he quickly retrieved the items before they hit the damp ground.
‘Thank you,’ she said, accepting them from his outstretched hand. She glanced down at the lantern; its flame still burned.
‘I need to know,’ he insisted, returning to his inquiry.
‘No—no, she’s not dying,’ she replied, ashamed of her lie. Keeping her mother’s secret from him had not been her choice. Nevertheless, she had to respect Onóir’s wishes.
Reece turned to consider his daughter’s response. She felt his eyes study her but held his gaze. She had had plenty of practice, from when her children quizzed her about their father. At first it had proven difficult, but time had been a convincing teacher.
‘’Tis an inflammation of the lungs,’ she blurted, hoping to sway any further questions. ‘Age slows her recovery. But no doubt she will soon feel the benefits of your presence. Already, I’ve seen the brightness return in her eyes.’
‘Let us hope so,’ he answered, glancing over her head at the house. ‘Now I have found Onóir, I intend to never let her go… whatever time she has left.’
Rosalyn’s mind raced, chewing on the words she feared would slip out, searching for a diversion. ‘Is it true what Gill said?’ she asked, changing the subject.
Reluctant, at first, to answer, Reece hesitated, then looked down at her. It was then he saw it: the uniqueness in her eyes—one green, like his, the other blue, like her mother’s.
‘Well? Is it?’ she prompted.
In spite of his apprehension, he felt it necessary to admit the truth behind the myth. ‘All of it.’
Rosalyn peeped over his shoulder, staring into the blackness of the woods. He sensed her nervousness.
‘How much did you hear?’ he queried.
‘All of it,’ she said, meeting his gaze.
‘You have nothing to fear, Rosalyn,’ he assured her. In a subconscious move, he reached out to take her hand, pausing, when he caught her staring at the thick scars embedded in his palm.
‘Reminders of a tormented past,’ he remarked.
She hesitated.
‘They cannot harm you, Rosalyn,’ he added, stepping closer. ‘May I?’
Denied the right, and love of a father’s touch, all her life, Rosalyn simply did not know how to accept it, now. Reece waited patiently for his daughter to take his imploring hand. She slowly looked up. As their eyes met, he saw her anxiousness.
‘’Tis not your scars’—she wrung her hands with uncertainty— ‘but the realisation—’
She flinched when he unexpectedly took her warm hand, placing it where his heart resided. She gasped, overcome by his first touch. Rosalyn was speechless—completely in awe of it.
‘Can you feel it beating?’
She nodded.
‘’Tis slow,’ she stated, finding her voice again.
‘If I were “undead” there would be nothing. What you feel, here’—he pressed her hand against his slow beating heart— ‘is life! They tried to wear us down—to a point where our emotions were virtually stripped from us.’
‘They?’
‘The ones who inflicted this curse on us—against our will. We learned to fight its dominance.
It was important to hold on to what made us human. And now that I am returned to the glory of the company of mortals, I feel the better for it.’
‘Is it true you—’
‘Drink your blood?’
Her anxious eyes glanced round, wishing she had Rave by her side.
Reece smiled. ‘It is a matter of choice—one I do not participate in.’ He heard her inward sigh of relief. ‘I sleep, eat and drink, like any normal man.’
‘Then you must try some of Kai’s Meade,’ she nervously joked, making light of the conversation. ‘’Tis the finest, this side of the loch.’
He leaned in. ‘Whom did you say?’
She drew back. ‘Kai, he is—’
‘Your husband?’
‘No!’ she returned, shaking her head. ‘He is a good and loyal family friend.’
‘I see,’ he replied, with a sense of relief; he did not relish the idea of having to tell Oran, his wife had remarried after his long absence.
‘And what of Tam?’ she enquired. ‘He clearly lacks your strength.’
‘Tam is relatively new to this unfavourable way of life. It is—was a difficult adjustment for him. Without guidance, he would have lost control. But, thankfully, he has learned to remove himself from confining situations.’
She glanced round, still unsure. ‘Where… where is he now?’
Reece diverted his eyes, deciding some things were best left in the dark. ‘Clearing his thoughts,’ he lied. ‘I give you my word, Rosalyn—on everything I hold precious—he will not touch any of you.’
Rosalyn smiled gently at the man who was finally proclaimed as her “father”.
An awkwardness divided their thoughts, but was then short-lived, by the crushing sound of leaves being stomped on by heavy, on-coming steps. She leaned forward, ready to draw Eleanor’s dagger from the inside of her boot.
Reece grinned. ‘You have no need of it.’
The moonlight bathed Tam as his great figure came into view. Slowly he walked towards them, his stride long and heavy. Reece noted the content look on his friend’s face. Tam acknowledged him with a wink.
Rosalyn observed his looming presence. It was only then—in the open space—she truly noticed the Highlander.
Tam Brodie stood a good foot over Reece—who was already above average height. His fair, shoulder-length hair fell thick and straight, curling slightly at its ends. Like his counterparts, Tam’s skin was pale. His face was large and square—a sign of strength; and its most notable feature: his peculiar broad nose. His pale-red eyes played on her suspicions, making her ponder over their true colour. She recognised his garb, by the vivid red tartan he wore below the tanned, buckskin waistcoat, covering his wide torso. Even in the veil of night its colour stood out. His thighs were bare, displaying his brawny muscles. On his feet, he wore tanned brogues. Below the knees, short buskins of various shades were worn on the legs; tied above the calf with a striped pair of garters. About his waist, he wore a thick belt made of cowhide—fastened with a silver buckle, with two sheaths attached—one on each side, with daggers concealed within. And peeping over his right shoulder, the hilt of his Claymore sword gleamed at her in the moonlight.
She surmised his origins were
one of the northern clans—who lived near the Highland border—a valued warrior who, no doubt, was missed by them.
Tam sauntered calmly towards them, glimpsing the Dirk in Rosalyn’s hand. ‘I am not your enemy, lass,’ he stated, staring down at her.
‘You are well, my friend?’ said Reece, studying him.
Rosalyn detected a hint of warning in her father’s tone.
‘Och! Aye,’ he replied, catching her staring at his left ear, where a sizable piece was missing.
He then smirked, unable to resist. ‘One of the younger ones got a wee bit close.’
‘Forgive me,’ she blurted, embarrassed at being found out.
Tam threw his head back, letting out a great bellowing laugh, matching that of his frame.
‘Forgive me, ma’am,’ he retorted, bowing. ‘’Tis just a wee memento of a young lad’s ambitions of great battles with his father’s over-sized sword.’
Rosalyn lowered her head smiling. In the face of their first meeting, she now sensed a warmth in the young Dhampir; it was clear he aimed to make amends, by the use of his wit.
‘But now… I am truly thirsty,’ he said.
Rosalyn inched towards her father when Tam stared at her.
‘Did I hear you say… Meade?’
Her eyes widened. ‘You… heard me?!’
Reece smiled, rolling his eyes, when Tam winked at her.
‘Well, then,’ she began, intent on setting her rules. ‘If you are well enough to return to the company of our household, I ask that you keep your composure.’
‘I will, ma’am,’ he replied, with a single nod.
‘Then… Eleanor will gladly supply you with some.’
‘I thank ye ma’am. Oh, and ye’ll not be needin’ that while ye’r in our company.’
Rosalyn looked down at the Dirk, still in her hand.
‘Ye have my word, lass.’
Reece felt his daughter’s agitation subside as Tam’s large frame disappeared through the door—Rave briefly barking on his entry, until quietness resumed once more.
‘Onóir used to taunt me with it,’ he told her, indicating to the dagger.
‘’Tis been in our family for centuries,’ she informed him.
‘And now it belongs to Eleanor.’
‘How did you know?’ she asked, drawing her brow. ‘And how did he come by it?’
‘She told us,’ he said, ‘when we met in the woods. And his name is, Asai.
‘When you…’ She shook her head, in disbelief. ‘Something tells me, your meeting with my daughter was not by chance. I think it is time for more answers.’
Raising the lantern, she saw the log—Gill had clearly neglected to chop—and sat as comfortably as she could, reminding herself to scold him, later. Despite his age, her son was not too old for a telling-off. Reece watched as she rested the lantern and dagger beside her. She then looked up at him… waiting.
‘May I?’ he asked, addressing her choice of seat.
His settling presence beside her was overpowering. Never before had she been made aware of another’s company. She could feel the strength of his energy pressing on her. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply.
‘How did you find us?’ she began.
‘I confess… it was no coincidence,’ he said.
She remained silent.
‘None of this was by chance, Rosalyn. We were sent to find you.’
Rosalyn slowly raised her head, baffled by his disclosure. He sensed her racing thoughts as she turned to him.
‘Sent?’ she queried, her eyes interrogating him. ‘By whom?’
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘Oran!’
Rosalyn jumped from her seat. She glared down at Reece; his face said it all. Pacing back and forth, she tried making sense of it. My husband sent my father to— Her thoughts ran with her doubts. She stopped abruptly, disregarding her nerves, then threw her hands on her hips.
‘And tell me, Reece… why is my husband not here?’
‘It was his intention—’
‘No doubt there were more pressing matters to attend to,’ she snapped. ‘Aye, that’d be Oran Shaw, alright. I’ve not seen or heard from him in almost three years. My children had lost all hope, thinking their father was… dead! To be honest, I had begun to believe it, myself.’
Reece allowed his daughter to vent her anger on him. It had been her right. He opened his mouth to speak, but her persistent rage prevented it.
‘When?! Where?! And’—Rosalyn stood back— ‘how, may I enquire further, are you acquainted with my husband?!’
Reece glanced at her gaping mouth. Although shocked, her angry eyes told a different story.
‘Our meeting was not a conventional one, but one of… uniqueness,’ he began. ‘We were held prisoner, by someone who was unwilling to part with us.’
‘Prisoners, you say?!’ she retorted. ‘He lied to me, then!’
‘No, Rosalyn, I assure you. Oran did not lie. He has told me everything.’
‘Everything?!’ she said, raising her brow.
‘Well… as much as he needed… to win my trust. At first I was dubious, but he made a convincing story. Little did we know, then, we would have more in common than we realised.’
‘His family,’ she stated.
Reece nodded.
‘At the time, he had no knowledge of our connection, and I was not aware of your existence. He promised us freedom if we helped him escape. In return, he asked a favour of me.’
‘That being?’
‘The agreement seemed plausible, at first. We were two strangers seeking each other’s help, from what seemed like a hopeless situation. He approved of my choice of companions, making matters easier. And so, it was settled: we would come here; complete the task; and then return to the remnants of our past—should anything remain of it.’
Rosalyn tried to take in what she was hearing yet remained confused and suspicious.
‘It was difficult to find you,’ Reece continued. ‘It was, however, by chance, we came across Eleanor and Gill, near the lake. They were preoccupied, and unaware of our presence, at the time, giving us the opportunity to watch them, while—’
‘Then it was you!’
He cast her a sideward glance, unsure of her meaning.
‘I have sensed, of late, someone watching me—watching us, from a distance. But when I search for a suspect, I find nothing, and yet the feeling remains.’
‘Then I must disappoint you; we are not your spies!’
‘No?’
He shook his head.
‘We only found Eleanor and Gill, this day. We kept our distance, until I was confident of their identity. Oran’s description of Eleanor was precise—save for the boy; it was evident Gill had changed since his father last saw him. I was uncertain, at first; however, when I looked at him more closely in the house, I then saw the similarities. But, had I not been drawn to Eleanor—by her resemblance to Onóir—we may have continued on our journey. It was my curiosity that held my interest. She is quite the perceptive one; she sensed our presence.’
‘Perhaps you let her.’
‘Perhaps. I admired her bravery, when she took it upon herself to challenge her three strangers.’
Rosalyn drew her head back. ‘Eleanor challenged you?!’
‘Indeed. You should be proud. She is extremely resolute and protective of her heirloom.’
Rosalyn’s eyes rested on the weapon nestled beside her and smiled with pride.
‘Had she not drawn the dagger…’ His words trailed at the probability of what may or may not have happened.
‘I believe you would have found Onóir again—regardless,’ said Rosalyn. ‘Don’t they say, “True love finds its way back”?
‘Until this day, I would have rejected such notions,’ he said, glancing back at the house. ‘I still have to remind myself, Onóir is behind that door, waiting for me.’
‘And waiting for answers,’ she reminded him. ‘Having said that—because of the time
you have both lost—I believe she would rather spend it living in the present, and not the past.’
‘Nonetheless,’ he said, ‘she is entitled to know.’
‘As am I. And, so, I ask you, once more. Where is my husband?’
‘You must understand, he had your interests, and most importantly, your safety at heart.’
Rosalyn rolled her eyes; it was typical of any man’s justification, of something he failed to do, especially for that of a woman.
Not wanting to waste too much precious time away from Onóir, Reece briefly provided his daughter with the facts of what had happened to them: their imprisonment; the Sorceress.
‘Before we escaped, it was his intention to return to you. There was an item he had hoped to acquire—’
‘The amulet!’ she stated, cutting in.
‘—however, things did not go according to plan, after he came into possession of something else—something connected to his past, it seems.’
‘If it’s not the amulet,’ she said, ‘then what is it?’
‘A book… of sorts,’ he revealed.
‘A book?!’ she retorted, her eyes full of outrage. Biting her tongue, she looked away, her foot tapping uncontrollably, in an effort to control her anger, before returning her attention to him. ‘And this… book, of sorts. What makes it more important than his family?’
‘He did not say… nor did I ask.’
‘Why not?!’ she snapped.
‘It was of no concern to me,’ he said. ‘It assisted in our escape. That was all that mattered. Remember, there was, at that time, no knowledge of our connection. It did not matter to me what secrets the book might hold. Why should it? Time was crucial in our escape, and before we parted, our words were brief.
‘Did he even mention us?’
‘There was a message.’
Her seething face softened.
Reece sensed the anguish in her patience, as she waited for him to relay her husband’s words.
‘He said: “Tell her I had no choice, but to return to the Elliyan”.’
Her expression returned to one of anger. ‘He’s gone back to them?!’ she cried, clenching her fists against the log’s hard surface.
‘He said you would understand. It is my belief, it had something to do with the book.’
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