As Jeanette finished tending Maisie, the rest gathered waterskins and cups, then waited restlessly in the council circle.
It was not long before Nicholas and Malcolm, trailed by Kenneth, Uilliam, and a few other warriors and lads who had been searching for the bairn, began flooding into the clearing, their voices, for the most part, loud and happy. Peigi, who must have been in the cave, was now waiting in the shade of the cavern’s mouth. She quickly sent the lads off on other tasks as the chief’s council gathered in their accustomed circle of logs and stones.
“What news?” Nicholas asked.
Rowan tugged on his hand as she took a seat, pulling him down to sit beside her. “Duncan? Scotia?” She raised her brows at them across the small circle. “Who shall start?”
Duncan quickly filled in Nicholas, Malcolm, Uilliam, and Kenneth on what they knew of Lord Sherwood’s plans.
“I know not how you ken this,” Kenneth said, “but it sounds like they are in Clan Campbell territory. Angus Dubh, their chief, is a wily man. I doubt not that he has eyes on the English even during the day and kens exactly what they are about, just as we would be . . . will be.”
“There are also allies on their way into this glen,” Scotia said, not waiting for Duncan.
The circle was quiet, then Kenneth spoke. “How do you ken this, child?”
At the word child, all the tiny hairs on Scotia’s body rose like the hackles on a dog. “I just ken it,” she said.
“She knows things, Kenneth,” Duncan said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “’Tis Scotia who learned of the English trap this night. ’Twas Scotia who found the wee lassie, not me. She knew exactly where to look for her.”
“How?” Nicholas asked. “She did not track the wee lass?” He directed this question to Duncan, who shook his head but said nothing. “How did you find her, Scotia?”
Scotia’s ire rose at the doubt in her chief’s voice, and in preparation for a battle, for she knew already they would not believe her. But before she could spring to her feet Duncan reached back and laid a hand on her arm, holding her in place. He glanced over his shoulder at her and subtly shook his head as if he could hear her thoughts.
“Just tell them how it happened.” He sat back, stretching his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles, as he slowly looked each person in the circle in the eyes, but he never took his hand off her arm. “They will listen without judging.”
It was as if they all took a long breath as tension eased.
Duncan looked over at her, his eyes filled with what she could only call encouragement and support, and gave her arm a small squeeze before he let it go.
“Just tell them.”
She pulled the warmth of his belief around her like plate armor, focusing on it instead of the disbelief she expected from everyone else. “When I said her name, the child’s, I just . . . knew. I knew where she was and how to get there. I know not where the knowledge came from, nor why it came to me. Later, after we found her and her mum had brought her back here, Duncan and I were . . . talking.” For a moment the taste and unexpected passion of that kiss tried to overtake her senses again, but she forced her mind to stay on the trouble at hand, not the man sitting beside her. “And all of a sudden, I knew, first that the English lord planned a surprise attack for our allies and that they had not made their way into the bens yet, and then, almost immediately, I knew a small contingent of our allies neared this glen.”
Nicholas looked at Jeanette, and Scotia knew he was asking her, without speaking, if she thought Scotia spoke the truth.
Jeanette got that look that was both far away and inward that signaled she was searching through the things she had learned before rendering an opinion.
“There are records of some Guardians,” Jeanette said, her voice dreamy, almost as if she were reading directly from the scrolls that held the Chronicles of the Guardians as she spoke, “who had this sort of gift.”
Scotia held her breath. A Guardian gift? She had hoped, but only now realized she had not thought it possible.
“But Scotia is not a Guardian,” Kenneth said, “is she?”
Jeanette and Rowan looked at each other, Rowan’s auburn brows raised as if she, too, questioned Jeanette without words.
“Perhaps,” Jeanette said. “We did not ken there could be two Guardians at the same time. Who are we to say there could not be three?”
“Truly?” Scotia said. “You think this is a Guardian gift?” She hated the way her voice almost squeaked with the hope that engulfed her.
“I think we need to speak to Scotia alone, if you will all excuse us,” Rowan said, and she and Jeanette rose.
“But the allies,” Scotia said, also rising to her feet, unsure of whether she wanted more to know if she was right or if she was a Guardian. “Should we not wait to find out if I am right, if my knowing in this is true? There is no point in testing me if it is not.”
“We do not intend to test you, cousin,” Rowan said. “There is no test to pass to become a Guardian. The Targe stone either strengthens your gift, or it does not. There is nothing we can do to influence it one way or the other. And I do not doubt that it is a gift. You found Maisie, aye?”
“Aye.”
“And she has had other knowings as well,” Duncan said. “Scotia, you should go with them now. When our allies arrive, which should be any moment judging by when the horn sounded, it will take time to settle them, feed them after their journey, and to ascertain what strengths they each bring to bear. And if it is only the watch returning, then it will not matter that you have gone off with Rowan and Jeanette—but I do not believe ’tis the watch.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her back down by it, giving it a squeeze before he released her. “If this knowing is a Guardian gift, then the Targe stone will make it more powerful, perhaps even letting you direct it to the things we most need to ken in order to overcome the English force. That alone would be more useful to us than all the information the watchers and scouts we’ve sent out can gather.” He dropped his voice and caught her gaze with his. “That alone would make you a part of the battle as you so wish. Patience, careful planning, and knowledge of our enemy’s weakness comes first. Remember? This gift might make all of those things easier, which means we would be able to protect our home and our people much better than we can now.”
Scotia started to object, though she did not know why. If she was a Guardian then the clan would have to stop shunning her, and she would be part of the battle, as he said. So why were her hands icy at the thought of facing the Targe stone?
He touched her once more, this time letting his hand rest lightly on her forearm while he finished.
“For now, ’tis the best use of our time if you, Rowan, and Jeanette can determine if this is a Guardian gift while we assess these allies you ken will join us soon. Remember, though, even if it is not, ’twill be of use in protecting the clan.”
In her head she still argued to wait, to put off what was surely a test even though Rowan and Jeanette said ’twas not, but the gentle pressure on her arm, and the reminder of her lessons had her modulating her voice, bringing it down from a demand to a statement. “Very well, but I want to be part of the battle, whether or no I have a Guardian gift.”
Duncan looked around, and it was only then that Scotia realized the two of them had been talking solely to each other while the others watched the exchange, some with surprise, others with a smile. Only her father glowered.
“I promise, when the time comes, if you are ready, you will fight,” Duncan whispered, and she realized he was doing his best to keep her secret, so she nodded.
“I shall put myself in Jeanette’s and Rowan’s hands—for now,” she said, more loudly so everyone was once more included in the conversation.
“Let us see what we can learn.” Jeanette motioned for Scotia and Rowan to follow her out of the circle.
“I will hold you to your promise,” Scotia said to Duncan quietly, as she stoo
d.
“I did not make it lightly. Will you promise to remain calm and cooperate with your sister and your cousin?”
Scotia glanced at Jeanette and Rowan, who had stopped by the trail that led down the ben, waiting for her to catch up. She knew they were anxious to learn if Scotia would join them as Guardians, and Scotia had to admit, in spite of her doubts, she was as well.
“I promise,” she said.
“I shall hold you to that, ye ken?”
Scotia nodded her head. “I will patiently let Jeanette and Rowan do what they will to me.” She started to follow Jeanette, then returned to Duncan once more. “I expect to hear everything about our allies when I return,” she said only to him.
“I expected nothing less,” he said, smiling at her.
She glanced once more at everyone else in the circle and still saw reactions that ranged from smiles to confusion to the even deeper frown on her father’s face, but she did not care what they thought. Duncan believed her. Duncan was her ally. And if this gift she had not realized was a gift proved her to be a Guardian, they would all have to believe in her, too.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SCOTIA FOLLOWED JEANETTE and Rowan a short way down the ben from the caves, then along what had originally been a faint deer trail but which had over the last weeks quickly become a path, now that her sister and cousin came here daily to practice their Guardian skills. As they neared the burn—Jeanette needed water for her gift of visions—a strange tingling sensation washed over Scotia’s skin, there and gone again in a single step. Rowan and Jeanette glanced at each other.
“What was that?” Scotia asked, their behavior telling her it was not her imagination.
“A barrier,” Rowan said, with a bemused smile. “’Tis too small to be of much use, but we constructed it three days ago, and it still holds.”
“But we walked right through it,” Scotia said, looking behind her to see if she could tell where the barrier was. There was nothing to see.
“Aye, we can, because we have no ill intent.” Jeanette was kneeling next to the burn. Rowan knelt facing her. She pulled the snow-white ermine sack from where it hung at her belt, laid it on the ground between them, and pulled it open until it lay in a flat circle.
The Highland Targe lay on it, a heavy grey stone the size of a warrior’s fist, flattened on opposite sides so that it looked like a small, fat shield—a targe. Rowan turned the stone over, revealing the three swirls in a circle symbol that had been incised on it by some ancient Guardian forgotten by time. Rowan settled the stone in the center of the open sack, directly on top of the same swirls in a circle symbol that had been painted in a now-faded red dye on the amber-colored hide.
Jeanette rotated the sack until she seemed satisfied with the arrangement. Two of the three additional symbols painted on the sack around the central symbol were aligned with the two Guardians. A third, an arrow broken in two places, was arranged facing Scotia. Both Guardians sat back upon their heels and looked at Scotia expectantly.
“Have you actually tested the barrier with someone of ‘ill intent’?” she asked as she slowly approached the two women and the stone.
“Nay,” Rowan said, “but if you happen to anger someone enough to goad them into trying to harm you, you can lead them here and test it for us.”
“Very funny.” Scotia knelt down and sat back on her heels, facing the stone. The burn burbled happily opposite her, with Jeanette on her right and Rowan on her left.
“Tell us about this knowing,” Rowan said.
“There is nothing to tell. I simply know things that I have no way of knowing. I do not ken how or why I know these things.”
“How long has this been going on?” Rowan again.
Scotia had to think about that question. “I think . . . I think it has been going on my whole life.” The two women said nothing. “I did not think ’twas anything unusual until today. I assumed it happened to everyone, but apparently it does not.”
“Other than today, are there specific times this has happened?” Jeanette asked.
Scotia’s first thought had her clenching her teeth, but her second thought she could share. “Remember how I went in after Ian when the great hall was afire? I knew he was in there, though I had not seen him go in, nor did anyone else seem to ken he was in there. I knew it. I knew he was in the kitchen. I knew that he was very afraid, and could not get himself out. I do not know how I knew it, but I did. Just like I knew where Maisie was today, and just as I know ’tis allies, not the watch, who are arriving.”
“But you did not ken the curtain wall would fall, did you?” Rowan asked.
Scotia shook her head, remembering that day when Nicholas had come into their lives and everything had changed. She sighed. “Nay, I knew Conall was there waiting for me, but that was only because I heard his whistle when I went out for a walk. So how does this work?” She waved a hand at the Targe stone. “How do we tell if I am another Guardian?”
Both she and Rowan looked at Jeanette for guidance.
Jeanette shrugged. “Rowan and I were just taken by the power of the stone. We did not do anything to cause either of those events . . . at least nothing that we are aware of.”
“Perhaps if she tries to use her gift with the stone?” Rowan asked. Her eyes narrowed and she cocked her head as she reached out and touched her symbol painted on the sack, an inverted V with three wavy lines under it. “I do not understand how any of this happens. I was first struck with my gift in the bailey, the night of Elspet’s last blessing, but wasn’t taken by the Targe until that night in Elspet’s chamber. Jeanette was led to the grotto by the deer with the bent antler and then found the stone in the pool there with her symbol”—Rowan pointed at the mirror painted on the part of the sack closest to Jeanette—“when she was overtaken with the power of the Targe.”
“There does not seem to be any similarity except that we were both overcome with the force of the power when we were claimed by it as Guardians. Have you felt such a force?” Jeanette asked.
Scotia shook her head slowly, then faster. “I would ken it if I had, would I not? I have not experienced anything like what I saw when Rowan was chosen. I would not forget such an event.”
“Nay, you would not,” Rowan said, and Jeanette silently agreed.
“So then what are we doing here? Just waiting for it to overtake me? That does not seem likely since it has never happened before,” Scotia said, disappointment making her words harsher than she meant for them to be.
“We are still learning, Scotia. Clearly we do not understand all of what the Highland Targe can do, or how to use it,” Rowan said, her voice was calm but tension showed in her rigid posture and furled brow.
“In truth, we ken little of how the Targe works, sister. Perhaps we should just see if you can use the Targe to direct your knowing to something you wish to ken, like exactly where the English are now, or when they will arrive in Glen Lairig?”
“I have already told you where they are today. As for when they will arrive, your gift is better than my guess. My knowing does not seem to deal with anything in the future as your visions do. In every case I can think of I knew something that was happening at that moment, but that I could not see or hear.”
“Very well,” Jeanette said, “let us simply see if you can use the Targe to direct your gift and work from there.”
“But how will we determine if what I know is true?”
“’Tis a good question . . .” Jeanette looked about. “Does your knowing work with objects?”
Scotia immediately thought of the dagger that had been used to kill her mother, and later Myles. She always seemed to know exactly where it was of late, needing only to think of it to find it. “Aye, with some objects, if I ken what the object is and think of it.”
Jeanette looked at her, surprise lighting her face. “’Tis how you always seemed to know where Mum had mislaid the hair combs Da had given her, isn’t it?”
Scotia had to think back to the man
y times her mum had been scouring the castle looking for the combs she wore almost daily but inevitably took out somewhere other than her chamber and mislaid. “Aye. I never really thought about it like that. I didn’t always know where her lost things were, but could always find those for her.”
“Good.” Jeanette pulled the sack of herbs and simples she always kept with her off her belt and held it up for Scotia to see. “I shall go and hide this somewhere. When I come back we shall see if you can tell us where it is.”
Jeanette took the pouch and left by the path. The quiet noises of the restless wood settled over Scotia and Rowan, accentuated by the burbling stream as it flowed over its rocky bed. Scotia took the opportunity to look closely at the open ermine sack, noting the symbols that she had only fleetingly glimpsed in the past. The inverted V with three wavy lines under it was for Rowan’s gift, the energy that comes from beneath the ground that she focused with the Targe to move things without touching them. The mirror symbol was aligned with Jeanette. The mirror, a scrying tool, was like the water in a cup that Jeanette used to tap into her gift of visions.
And in front of Scotia was an arrow, broken in two places so it formed a Z.
“What does this one mean?” Scotia said, lightly running the tip of her finger over the details of the arrow symbol painted in red on the hide.
“We do not ken. Not yet. If ’tis yours, then you will understand what it means when the Targe claims you.”
Before Scotia could form another question Jeanette was back. As she settled into her spot, Rowan lifted the Targe stone and handed it to Scotia.
“You may or may not need to be touching the Targe to focus your gift through it. I must touch it to focus the energy I pull from the ground. Jeanette needs it near, but she must be touching or peering into water to control her visions. Water is the source of her gift. Do you ken the source of yours? It might help you to understand how you must use the Targe . . . if you are to be a Guardian.”
Highlander Redeemed (Guardians of the Targe Book 3) Page 7