by Jennae Vale
“Thank you,” Zeke said. “I was wondering if I had arrived in the right place, but now that I’ve seen you, I guess I have.” He looked the horse over and thought the name appropriate considering that he was here to find his sister. “Do you know which way I should go?”
“Dinnae worry yerself with that. Olwydd kens the way. Edna has seen to it.” He bobbed his head and turned to head back to his wagon.
Zeke was definitely feeling out of his element. It was a mixture of excitement about this journey and anxiety for the unknown. “So, the horse is going to lead me to my sister,” he called to Wallace.
“I’ve no idea where yer headed, sir. I only do what Edna asks of me and she didnae grant me that information. She did, however, ask me to supply ye with some things ye may need. They are in the bags, there.” He pointed to two leather bags slung across the saddle. “Now, ’tis time for me to be on me way.”
“Thanks, Wallace. I appreciate the help.” He had one more question before he was on his own, “How will I get in touch with Edna?”
Wallace tipped his cap and climbed aboard his wagon, waving to Zeke as he disappeared over the bridge.
“Okay. I guess that was another question he didn’t have an answer for.” Zeke rubbed the tension from the back of his neck. He had very little to go on here and he had to trust that somehow he’d find a way to communicate with Edna. “Well, Olwydd, I sure hope you know where you’re going.”
The horse nickered and gazed at him with liquid brown eyes. Zeke glanced around and seeing no other option, mounted Olwydd and allowed him to lead the way.
After several days of wandering, Zeke began to wonder whether Olwydd really did know the way. As far as he was concerned, they were hopelessly lost. He hadn’t come across another soul to this point and the futility of finding his sister seemed as impossible as finding the proverbial needle in a haystack and unless that needle poked him while he traveled, he wasn’t sure he’d ever find it.
Zeke’s brain wandered to the studio. He hoped everything was going well there. Sara often complained that since Helene left he’d become a workaholic and he had to agree it was true. He enjoyed the familiarity of the studio and his students. Doing the same thing day in and day out was a soothing balm during a time when the last thing he needed was time alone to think about how stupid he’d been to let Helene go. No matter, he knew he’d done the right thing. He could have made it more difficult for her to make the choice to leave, but he would never have been able to live with the fact that Helene would always love Dougall, even if she grew to love him.
The path he traveled was a continuation of the path he’d been on yesterday and the day before that. Olwydd seemed in no great hurry and so they plodded along as if Zeke had all the time in the world to find Sara. He wished Edna would communicate with him again so he could be sure things were going according to plan, but each night as he sat by his fire, sometimes calling her name, he heard nothing in reply except for the crackling of the fire and the wind blowing through the trees.
Zeke was a city boy. He may have gone camping once or twice as a child, but never as an adult. He preferred the comfort of a bed and four walls. He’d gone to several national parks over the years and enjoyed the great outdoors, but at the end of the day, reservations at the lodge were a necessity in his mind. He was reminded every night as he tried to find a comfortable spot without a rock or tree root poking him in the back of why he’d never been a camper. He was a realist, or as much of a realist as a man could be who’d traveled five hundred years back in time. If enduring the discomfort of sleeping outside was what he had to do to find Sara, then he’d endure it. No matter how long it took, he’d find her and get her back to San Francisco where they both belonged.
Olwydd was a good companion. He didn’t have much to say, but he was a good listener and Zeke found himself talking to the horse throughout the day. He was glad that no one could see him because it might be pretty embarrassing to be seen chatting away with a horse, for a man who was thought to be the strong silent type by his friends and students. He laughed out loud at this thought. The song Home, Home On The Range came to mind and he felt the urge to sing. Olwydd’s ears turned back towards him for a moment, probably wondering what that strange man on his back was doing. Finally, he decided there was nothing to worry about, so he pricked one ear forward and kept one ear turned towards Zeke, who continued serenading Olwydd with any song he could think of. He’d never been alone for this amount of time in his entire life. At home, he was surrounded by his students and the only time he was by himself was when he went home at night. He could see how a person could go a little crazy being alone day in and day out.
Zeke was relieved that the weather hadn’t been an issue for him. The late autumn sky was clear, but the air was cold and the countryside much as he’d expected. Zeke had spent some time virtually exploring Scotland since Helene left. On those rare occasions when he allowed himself to miss her, he felt closer to her when he could envision where she might be. Now here he was in this familiar yet unfamiliar landscape, but instead of searching for Helene, he was here for his sister.
Brenna’s luck had run out. She stole a glance behind her and noted riders galloping her way. They’d overtake her soon enough. She could try to outrun them, but her horse was weary from traveling and it would do her no good, they were already upon her. She stopped Vala and turned to face them. Her heart beat rapidly as she noted that these men were unfamiliar to her. Were they highwaymen? They weren’t from Castle Treun, of that she was sure. If she had to fight them, she’d surely lose. If it were just the one she’d stand a chance, but there was no way she could battle two men who, by the looks of them as they approached, were twice her size and more than capable of breaking her like a twig. She found she was shaking uncontrollably and did her best to cover it up, pulling her plaid tightly around her body. Her voice quavered, as she spoke. “Who are you? What do you want with me?” she stammered.
“Laird Munro sent us to bring ye back to Castle Treun,” the dark-haired man reported.
She looked up at the heavens, wondering why on earth she was so doomed. “I dinnae wish to return,” Brenna stubbornly stated. Now that she knew their mission, she relaxed, but only a slight bit, having no idea how far they’d go to secure her return.
“I’m sorry lass. We’ve our orders and we’re to bring ye back. If ye come with us willingly it will be all the better for ye,” he said.
The other man sat silently atop his destrier. Brenna looked to him, eyes pleading, but he wasn’t moved.
She sat atop her palfrey, gazing between the men instead of at them.
“Well, what will it be?” the dark-haired man asked.
Without uttering a word or looking their way, Brenna nudged her horse forward into a walk and began the trek back to Castle Treun. She may have lost this battle, but she was sure she wasn’t going to marry Nevil Munro. There was a feeling in the pit of her belly that belied her certainty and with each mile closer to home, she became more and more desperate to change her fate.
Brenna had been hopeful that when they camped that night, she might be able to slip quietly away, but the two men took turns staying awake to keep an eye on her. When she realized there was no chance she would escape, she slept.
From a distance, she could see Castle Treun looming ahead of them. She watched as riders came through the gates towards them. Brenna had no doubt that it was her father and Nevil Munro. She recognized Paddraig’s posture and his giant silver destrier. The other man, unfamiliar to her had to be the man she was to marry. Panic began to set in and without thought she wheeled her horse around and began charging away from them. Her two guards gave chase. Brenna was running for her life and Vala seemed to understand this, giving her all to outrun the men who were right on her tail. She darted to her left, taking a route she knew like the back of her hand, but one that the Munro men wouldn’t. She dodged trees and rocks, glancing back over her shoulder all the while when, without warning, Vala
stumbled forward onto her knees, sending Brenna tumbling forward over her head. There was nothing to stop her fall and she landed with a hard, painful thud on her back. The adrenaline rushing through her veins aided her to her feet. Vala, spooked by the incident, ran back towards Castle Treun. Brenna began to run the other way, the pain of her fall chasing her every step. Soon the two men were upon her, jumping from their horses and grabbing her by the arms. She winced in pain. One on either side of her, they guided her back towards the castle. She struggled futilely every step of the way to get out of their grasp. The dark-haired man tried to lift her onto his horse, but she refused to cooperate, kicking and screaming at them and thwarting their efforts. So instead they walked and their horses followed. The closer they got to her Da and Laird Munro, the harder Brenna fought to escape these men.
“I’ll nae marry him,” she shouted. “I’ll nae do it.”
“I’m sorry fer yer troubles, lass. But I dinnae believe ye have a choice,” the quiet man finally spoke.
Brenna gazed up at him and saw pity in his eyes. Her fate was sealed, but she wouldn’t go quietly into this marriage. She’d do everything she could to dissuade Nevil Munro. If he saw her like this, he’d surely refuse to marry her. She knew she must look a sight and her behavior was not at all what he’d want. She’d play the part of the disobedient lass from this moment on, all the while praying something would happen to stop this marriage.
Chapter 5
Tired of his own company, Zeke was elated at the sight of a castle up ahead. Finally. He didn’t think he’d ever get here. So, this was the place his baby sister had decided to live. She must be out of her mind, or head-over-heels in love. He reined Olwydd to a halt as he surveyed the sight before him. A real medieval castle right before his very eyes. It was much larger than he expected. Very impressive. The castle walls towered above him. Men stood guard upon the battlements on either side of a large wooden gate, which was open.
Looking closely, he could see riders coming through the gates towards him. The two men seemed to be focused on something happening off to his right. Zeke turned Olwydd to get a better angle and followed their gaze, only to see a frightened young woman being dragged by two men back towards the castle gates. Without thought, Zeke sprang into action. His horse responded instantly and charged towards the men, who looked up from the girl. Letting her go, they each unsheathed their swords and stood ready and waiting for Zeke, who now wondered if this was a wise decision. One look at the girl, who had now slumped to the ground in tears, gave him his answer. Olwydd came to a skidding stop as Zeke leapt from the saddle and engaged the men. They were obviously seasoned warriors, but Zeke was confident he could handle them. The girl for her part was helping by holding onto the leg of the light-haired man. He, for his part, seemed as if he didn’t wish to harm her and so he stayed where he was with the girl wrapped around his leg and his sword at the ready.
Zeke put everything he had into this fight. He practiced his swordsmanship every day at the studio and it showed. The two men initially met with a clang of swords and after a moment or two of battle, backed away and assessed each other. Zeke mirrored the other man’s movements, parrying with him and waiting for the opportune moment to make his move.
Who was this man who had come to her rescue? He was tall and very strong. From her spot on the ground, she kept a tight hold on the leg she’d latched onto. She didn’t have a sword to join in the fight, so she did what she could. No matter how good a warrior this unknown man might be, there was no way he could beat two men at one time. She watched as they grappled together and then the new man did something interesting. He hooked his leg behind the other man’s leg and knocked him to the ground, where he kicked the sword from his hand. The man lay there dazed. “You’re turn,” he said as he turned towards the man she’d managed to hold captive by the leg. Brenna let go of him and he charged at this newcomer. They were heavily engaged with each other when she noted her Da and Nevil Munro riding up to the scene. She had the urge to run again, but thought better of it.
“Enough,” Nevil Munro commanded and his man immediately backed away. The one on the ground was rubbing the back of his head as he tried to stand.
“Who are ye?” Paddraig MacRae demanded.
“My name’s Zeke Barrett. I’m here to find my sister, Sara.” The man was hardly even out of breath after all that fighting. Brenna looked on in admiration.
“I’m Paddraig MacRae, laird of this castle and this is Laird Nevil Munro. I appreciate yer efforts to save my daughter, but she doesnae need to be saved.”
Zeke gazed at Brenna with soft blue eyes. “Are you alright?”
Brenna nodded. Her voice seemed to have disappeared. She picked herself up from the ground and tried futilely to dust herself off.
“Look at ye, Brenna. Yer a disgrace.” Paddraig tut-tutted at her.
“I’m sorry, Da. I dinnae wish to marry Laird Munro.” She glanced quickly in Nevil’s direction and for a brief moment saw the man he really was. There was a sinister aspect to those dark, narrowed eyes. This was a man that was not safe to cross. He would have no patience for her speaking her mind. Her body shuddered in a visceral response as she realized the rumors she’d heard about his dead wife could actually be true.
He quickly changed his demeanor. “Brenna, lass. I understand yer nervous about marrying a man ye hardly ken, but I promise ye I’ll be good to ye. Ye’ll have a home of yer own, where ye’ll be the true lady of the castle. Isnae that what ye want?” The cloying sweetness of his voice turned Brenna’s stomach. She looked from him to her Da and then to Zeke Barrett, who seemed quite shocked and concerned by what he was hearing.
“Come. Let us all go back to the great hall and discuss this. Ye may join us,” Paddraig motioned to Zeke.
The men all mounted their horses, leaving Brenna to walk.
“You can ride with me,” Zeke motioned for Brenna to come closer and he put an arm down for her to latch onto. She put her foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself up behind him, placing her arms around a solid back and narrow waist. She placed her hands on an abdomen beset with muscles. The closeness of his body to hers sent unnerving tingles through her. She was exhausted from this ordeal and found herself resting her head against his back, with no thought for what the others would think. She could feel every breath he took and the rippling of his muscles as he guided his horse to follow the others. Confusing thoughts floated through her head. She found herself drawn to him, but told herself it was only that he’d tried to save her from her inescapable fate. Perhaps she could convince him to help her escape once again. Maybe with his help, she’d make it to Dougall. She hadn’t given up. She would continue to fight this unfair marriage she was being forced into.
The horses came to a halt in the courtyard and everyone dismounted with the exception of Zeke and Brenna.
“Grab hold of my arm and I’ll help you down,” Zeke said.
Before Brenna could answer one of the men he fought reached up and plucked her down. As her feet hit the ground, she gazed up at him. Her eyes pleaded with him, but before she could speak, she was swiftly ushered into the castle.
“Go get yerself cleaned and when you’re presentable, return to the great hall,” her father called after her. “And dinnae try to run away again or ye’ll pay the price.”
Zeke dismounted, watching as she disappeared from sight. Was she asking him to help her?
“Zeke Barrett, join us in the great hall for a tot of whisky. Ye’ve earned it.” Paddraig threw an arm around Zeke’s shoulders and guided him inside. “Ye must tell me all about yerself. I’m quite impressed by what I’ve just seen ye do out there.”
The other man, Nevil Munro, didn’t seem quite as pleased with him. “Aye. If ye’ll excuse me, Paddraig. I’m going to see to me men.” He strode from the room and Paddraig waited for him to be out of sight before speaking.
Zeke was busily concocting a story in his head. One that he hoped would keep him on this man’s good side. He
didn’t know the dynamics of this family, but something told him that he’d just stepped into a hornet’s nest.
Paddraig poured him some whisky and then some for himself. “So ye say yer here to find yer sister. Are ye sure she’s here?”
“I’ve been told she is.” He took the whisky from Paddraig and following the laird’s lead, tossed it back, swallowing it in one gulp.
Paddraig poured more for the both of them. “Ye said her name, but I’m sorry to say that I cannae remember. I was preoccupied with me daughter.”
“Her name’s Sara. Sara Barrett. Have you seen her?”
“I’m afraid not. If she isnae here in the castle, chances of me knowing about her arenae good, lad.”
“She’s here with a man. His name’s Logan MacPhail.”
Zeke watched closely as Paddraig made an attempt to seem as if he was thinking. “Nae. Nae. The name doesnae ring a bell.”
Zeke didn’t believe him. He could spot a lie a mile away, but he didn’t say anything. If Sara was here, he’d find her. In the meantime, he’d answer Paddraig MacRae’s questions with answers that would surely impress him.
“Where do ye come to us from, Zeke?” Paddraig asked.
“San Francisco. Have you heard of it?”
Paddraig scrunched his eyebrows and shook his head. “I havenae. Where exactly is it?”
“Far away from here. It would be too difficult to explain, but it’s quite beautiful.”
“And ye’ve traveled here on yer own to find yer sister?” Paddraig seemed impressed with this.
“I have an army of men at my disposal, but I preferred to locate her on my own.” Zeke wasn’t lying. He did have an army of sorts. Of course, they were all his students at the studio. He smiled. So far he was having fun with this.
Paddraig was warming up to him even more. “A fine man such as yerself, must surely be the laird of this San Francisco. Am I correct?”