A voice rich with brogue pulled her from her thoughts. "Gavin, do ye think the lass is a wee bit fey? At times she seems to know where she is and at others, no at all."
The tall Scot who had tended her burns shook his head. "I do not know. She looks calmer today, but I would not trust her too far. She was as wild as a banshee last eve and as looby as an Irishman after too much whiskey."
The other man grinned. "Aye, she was that."
Ailis frowned at the slur on the Irish. Da always said 'twas nay Scot fit to stand in the shadow of an Irishman. And what foolish blether did they mean, calling her looby? She was as sane as anyone.
Wasn't she?
Shaking her head, she tried to force her doubts and confusion away. How oft of late had she feared she had lost her sanity? Horrible images plagued her mind and unsettled her thoughts.
'Twas true, some days she knew not who or where she was.
Those were times she wished to forget. Forget everything. But even in sleep, she remembered. Until she avenged her family, she doubted she would ever feel sane again.
With the talisman in her possession, she had the proof she needed. All she had to do was keep it secret and find its owner. These foolish men who thought to hold her prisoner might be the very ones she sought. Until she discovered their guilt or innocence, she would take what they offered and grow strong enough to do what she must.
When her attempt to slay the men had failed, she felt her end had come. The tall one, the one the other man called Gavin, had moved with the deadly speed of a mountain cat. But instead of killing her, he had come to her aid.
Ailis glanced at the man. He was tall with a brawny, powerfully built body and soft green eyes. His thick auburn hair hung to his broad shoulders drawing attention to the immense size of his muscular arms. His clean-shaven face was deeply tanned as if he spent a lot of time in the sun. A dimple softened the look of his square chin. She might have thought him handsome if he were someone else. Anyone else.
His small acts of kindness confused her. Last eve he had bandaged her hands and fed her. His words had been gentle and his face had seemed filled with concern. With his warm plaid and a bit of food in her belly, she had slept soundly for a time. For once, no terrifying dreams had haunted her in the night.
How could such a gentle giant look and behave the way he did, and yet be the monster she suspected him to be? Aye, had she not awoken to him leaning over her with ill intent on his mind as he pulled away his plaid?
Ailis watched the two men as they spoke quietly to each other. Did they think to fool her? She knew their kind and what they were capable of. The saints be praised they had not attacked her while she slept. They had treated her as gently as an unsuspecting babe. Sweet Mary, could that be it?
Did they not realize she knew them for what they were?
The pony's sudden stop jarred Ailis from her thoughts. She gazed around, blinking in the setting sun. Perhaps they would rest a while. How good 'twould feel to climb down from her crowded perch. 'Twas a shame she dared not speak to ask it. But with her frenzied thoughts and confusion of late she might say aught to warn them of her intent. No, 'twas safer to remain silent. There would be time for words when she killed them.
A motion caught her eye and she returned her gaze to the tall Scot. He was staring at her, his mouth set in a grim line as if daring her to speak. Fear knotted in her belly as she watched him pull an arrow from his quiver. Heaven help her. Had he read her thoughts? Was he going to kill her now?
Nay. God would not be so cruel. Her destiny was set; she must avenge her family. After that, it did not matter when or where she died, only that she took vengeance for their deaths. She had not been able to save them but she would avenge them!
A light breeze filled the air as the evening twilight descended. Clouds billowed overhead like massive puffs of smoke. She had seen smoke like that before.
Sweet Mary, no, not again.
Terror clawed her spine as Ailis watched the men notch their arrows and aim at something in the distance. Following their gaze, she saw a small herd of deer grazing innocently, unaware of their danger. A fawn looked up for a moment; its large brown eyes seemed to stare at her before it lowered its head and began to nibble at the grass at its feet.
Brown eyes. She had seen eyes like those before. Somewhere.
Ailis searched her memory. Where had she seen such beautiful eyes? Jenny. Jenny had beautiful brown eyes.
Her sister had teased her just this morn as they were gathering berries because Ailis' eyes were blue rather than a rich brown as hers. Or…or had that been the day before?
Ailis' head pained her from trying to make sense of things. 'Twas hard to know what was real and what was not.
Hearing a slight sound, she wrenched her gaze from the fawn to the men with their deadly weapons and back to the unsuspecting deer. But the deer had somehow vanished and in their place stood her father and sister. She blinked, trying to clear her mind.
Were Da and Jenny truly there?
Dear God, she must save them!
Ailis kicked the pony with all her might. As it lunged down the hill, a scream of terror tore from her lungs. Her only thought was to warn her father and sister.
The pony jolted to a halt at the bottom of the knoll. Ailis looked around frantically. Where was their wagon? Where were Da and Jenny?
'Twas naught there. Not even the deer.
Holy Mother, the nightmare had claimed her again.
Someone was shouting. 'Twas strange, the voice held none of Da's Irish lilt and 'twas too deep to be Jenny's. Ailis shuddered. 'Twas too much. She would not listen to it anymore.
Perhaps if she tried, she could block it out. All of it. The pain. The sorrow. The loneliness. Aye, she would close her thoughts to everything and rest. Just for a while.
#
When Gavin reached the spot where the pony had ended its downward flight, he yanked his stallion to a standstill and leaped to the ground. Still angry, he snatched up the reins to the pack animal, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white.
"You looby wench!" he yelled. "Have you lost your mind? You could have been killed! What possessed you to act so?" As Gavin paused for breath, he saw the rise and fall of her thin shoulders and the bob of her head as she sobbed into her bandaged hands.
The pitiful sound of her crying brought his tirade to a halt as nothing else could. Anger still burned in his chest but the rest of his harsh words withered and died before they escaped his lips. Och, what was wrong with him? Normally a woman's tears did not sway him overmuch. But this lass seemed to affect him more than most. He drew another deep steadying breath. By the saints, he had not meant to frighten her.
What was it about the strange lass that moved him so? Was it the haunted expression he saw lodged deep in her cobalt eyes, or her haggard appearance so obviously in need of care? Was it her unnatural silence? Meggie sometimes brooded and was overly silent. She had told him 'twas just a woman's way. Thoughts of her filled him with guilt. What would she say if she knew how he had treated the lass?
Calum rode up and quickly dismounted beside them. Gavin gritted his teeth as he watched his cousin look from him to the crying lass and back to him again with his usual grin. Calum's smile deepened as he looked at him. "Well, now that we've had our excitement, shall we ride on to Kirkholm? Or would ye prefer to hunt and stay here for the night?"
Gavin scowled at his cousin's obvious amusement. By thunder, he would show him what he thought of it later. A good bout on the training field would remind the man who was laird. At least there, he knew his own mind. But here, so close to the weeping woman, his mixed emotions tumbled arse over end. He shook his head curtly. "Hunting here will be useless now. All that wailing will have scared off any game for miles around."
"And whose wailin' would have done that, cousin?"
Gavin's eyes narrowed. "Do not push me too far, cousin. Mount up. We ride for Kirkholm." As Calum walked back to his horse, Gavin looked once more at
the woman. A knot tightened in his chest at her apparent distress. Leaning toward her, he spoke in a whisper. "'Tis all right, lass. Soon we will be at my home and you can rest."
With night approaching, the ride home would be slow. For once, he was glad of the delay, for he needed time to sort through his thoughts. Was he doing the right thing bringing the strange lass into their midst? Or was he risking the safety of those he loved?
Chapter Two
For Ailis, the remainder of the journey was a blur. A hazy series of sights and sounds. How long had she been riding? Where was she going?
Clouds drifting in front of the moon cast dark shadows over a castle drawbridge as they approached. She followed the men under an iron portcullis and into a courtyard. Why had they brought her here? Were Jenny and Da here waiting for her? No, something was not right. But what? Her thoughts twisted and turned on themselves like the roiling waters of the Spey. She tried desperately to think clearly.
With a sharp gasp she remembered. Clasping her wrapped hands together as best as she could, she prayed for strength. Did the strangers mean to hold her hostage inside the castle? It mattered not. Her captors would soon learn their fate, nay, their lives, were in her hands. And she would show no more mercy than had they.
"Here, lass. Let me help you."
Startled, Ailis looked into the green eyes of the broad shouldered Scot standing beside the pony. By the saints, he was tall. His eyes were almost on the same level as hers even though she sat perched on the pack animal's back.
She gazed down as he reached for her. His hands were large and callused. Had they become so through hard work or fierce battles? Before she could protest, he wrapped them around her waist and lifted her from her seat. The moment her feet touched the ground, her legs gave way and she pitched forward toward the dirt. Suddenly, his arms were about her, enfolding and lifting her gently. Ah, but he was strong. 'Twould be wonderful to have such strength to rely on, to aid her.
Ailis could not help the wishful thought. It had been too long since she had felt any gentleness, any care on her behalf. Here was a man strong enough to protect her.
Sweet Jesus, what was she thinking? Disgust rippled through her. This man was the enemy. Aye, he was strong. But that strength had been used to kill. Sweet saints, how could she have forgotten, even for a moment? Misery and hatred welled up in her heart. She bit her lip to keep from screaming out her thoughts, to brand him with her words.
With the last of her strength, she shoved her bandaged hands against his chest but could not budge his firm grip. He must put her down. She wanted naught from him. Naught but his death.
"No, lass, be still. You are too weary to walk. I will carry you. Fear not, you will come to no harm in my arms."
She dared a glance at his face. His expression of concern mixed with her own exhaustion defeated her. She would have to do as he said. For now. But she would not succumb to his false kindness. After she had rested and regained her strength, if he proved to be the killer she suspected him to be, he would die.
Too weary to hold herself away from his grasp, Ailis leaned back against his warmth. For a fleeting moment, the feeling of his arms about her somehow seemed right. She blinked her eyes and stared into the darkness to clear her mind. No, she must not allow such a feeling of acceptance. His destiny was joined to hers for a different purpose. And for good or ill, it would end.
Soon.
The man called Calum walked toward them. "Och, Gavin, is the lass ill?"
The Scot holding her in his arms shook his head. "No. She is but over weary. I need to tell those in the castle of our… visitor so they can prepare for her."
He slowly lowered her to sit on an upturned barrel then nodded at his companion. "Stay with the lass, and let her rest for a while. Then bring her to the keep."
For a brief moment, he laid his hand on her shoulder as if to reassure her. "Do not fear, lass. All will be well. Calum will watch over you."
Warmth flowed through Ailis as much from his words as his hand on her shoulder. The Scot's touch was truly gentle.
Nay, what was she thinking? He was simply a man. A man whose dark deeds had changed her life forever. She watched as the tall Scot walked away. What had his companion called him? Gavin. Aye, that was his name. She would remember it.
#
Megan MacPherson looked down at the half-eaten meal before her. 'Twas no use. The food held no interest for her. She had been waiting all afternoon for her twin brother, Logan, to join her and show her the new falcon he was training.
The sun had set well past an hour ago and still she waited. Fie, he was gone most of the time lately, leaving her with naught to lend excitement to her days. 'Twas not fair. She was tired of waiting.
Turning to one of the clanswomen seated near her, she said, "If Logan should come looking for me, tell him I have gone to the mews."
"But Megan, didna ye promise to wait for yer brother?"
"I will not be gone long. I only wish to look at his new falcon." Shoving her trencher aside, Megan stood and made her way across the crowded great hall. Everywhere she looked, the room was filled with noise and movement as members of her clan enjoyed their food among family and friends. 'Twould seem all in the castle were taking their fill of the evening meal. Except her brother.
She frowned. How many times in the past had he teased her for being born the first twin? It seemed she had been waiting on him for one reason or another since birth. 'Twas a shame she had no sister to keep her company.
Megan shoved open the smaller man-door in the castle's massive front door and walked into the courtyard toward the nearby mews. When Gavin returned, mayhap he would give her a small falcon of her own. He certainly was easier to talk to than Logan was of late.
A dog barked and dashed past her. Stepping out of its way, she bumped into a bucket left lying on the ground and nearly fell. By the saints, 'twas dark. She should have brought a torch. What few stars she could see twinkled between swift sailing clouds. Moving to the right, her shoe slipped on the edge of a muddy puddle and she fought to keep her balance. Fie, she must take care or she would be bruised and covered with mud before she made it across the courtyard.
A sudden breeze carried the odor of horse dung her way and she lifted up her skirt just in time to step over a large pile in front of her. Obviously, she was nearing the stables. The mews were not much farther. She would just have to—
"Eek!" A large shadowy figure stepped in front of her, startling her.
"Well now, this is a fine welcome I receive on my return. My favorite sister stalks past me as if she has no time to grant me a kiss or a word of welcome." The broad shouldered man stepped out of the shadows. As he stepped closer, his smile belied his gruff words.
"Gavin! You are back!" Megan ran to her older brother and threw her arms around him in a loving hug. Then she frowned and poked him in the chest with her finger. "You big oaf, you near startled me out of my wits. And what silliness is this favorite sister talk? I am your only sister, as well you know."
Gavin returned his sister's hug and kissed her cheek. Releasing her, he took a step back and chuckled. "Ah, Meggie, you do not scare that easy. And since I have no other choice of sisters, you must be my favorite."
Megan grinned and looked around the courtyard. "Where is Calum? You did not lose him, did you?"
"Och, no, lass. I know you are sweet on him and I would have no peace from you if I returned without him. He will be along in a moment. I–"
"Do not tease me, brother. Do you realize the two of you have been gone nigh on two months? He… he has not changed, has he? Where is he?"
"Now, Meggie, do not fash so. I need to tell you something before Calum joins us. On the way around Ben Dearg, we were set upon by—"
"Oh, no! Was Calum injured? Is that why he is not with you?" Megan bit her lip and scoured the area with her gaze.
"No, lass, we are both hale. Be still a moment and let me finish. An odd woman wandering the hills alone knocked Ca
lum from his horse with a rock to his head and so startled my horse that I was thrown as well."
Megan buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders trembled as faint noises emanated from between her fingers.
Gavin reached out and gently pulled her hands from her face, a note of obvious concern in his voice. "Do not fash, Meggie. We are fine, truly." Then his expression tightened into a scowl. "What is this?"
Megan drew a quick breath attempting to stifle her amusement. She barely kept her mirth in check. "Ah, brother, I beg your pardon. 'Twas just such a funny tale."
"I see naught amusing about it."
She looked up into his stern expression trying to hold back the giggle building inside her. 'Twas no use. Her laughter burst from her like a cloudburst in spring. She laughed harder until tears began to run down her cheeks.
The sudden silence warned her to quell her laughter. Squinting up between wet lashes, she saw the tight clench of her brother's jaw. Wiping the tears of laughter from her face, she did her best to control the amusement in her voice.
"But Gavin, one mere woman unhorsed the both of you? Oh how I wish I could have been there to see the look on your faces."
When her brother's frown deepened, she quickly added, "Oh, but I am sure the woman must have been a fierce warrior indeed to have bested both you and Calum so easily."
"I did not say she bested us, or that she did it easily."
"Aye, you are right. I must have misheard your words." She grinned up at him. "Pray forgive my rudeness." His answering scowl told her he did not appreciate her teasing. Sobering, she wiped the smile from her face and said, "What was a woman doing wandering the hills alone?"
Gavin's expression eased slightly. "I do not know. I cannot get her to speak and she does not seem to understand what goes on about her. We do not know how long she has been in the wild. Poor lass. 'Twould seem she has had little to eat or proper shelter." He shrugged. "We could not leave her there alone, so we brought her here. 'Tis my hope you and the other women will be able to help her."
The Talisman (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 2) Page 3