Highland Honor

by Dana D'Angelo

  Her fingers began to create tiny circles along his chiseled jawline while her eyes traced the motions of her hands. Lingering her gaze on his lips, she wondered how it would feel to kiss him. Most likely it would be good. She wasn’t one to dream about comely men, but her thoughts continually drifted to Griogair. She realized that if the lassies in the village caught sight of him, they would swoon. Not that she would blame any of them. In fact, if she was honest with herself, he was already making her swoon. Tilting her head to the side, she contemplated why she felt so out of kilter whenever she was in his presence. It wasn’t just his looks that fascinated her. There was something more about him, although she couldn’t quite understand what it was.

  “Do ye have any idea why your troubles have increased?”

  Once again his deep voice penetrated her brain, and she was startled to find that her mouth was mere inches away from his. She was surveying his striking features so intently, and was so deep into her thoughts that she failed to realize how close she drifted toward him. And until this moment, she wasn’t even aware that her breathing had stopped. A flush of embarrassment flooded her cheeks. Fortunately his eyes were still closed, and he wasn’t aware of her near slip.

  But then Griogair’s eyes opened. His emerald orbs pierced into her as if he had the ability to discern her thoughts. She groaned inwardly, and any relief she felt vanished in that instant.

  “Do ye ken why your clan is experiencing sae much trouble?” he asked again.

  “What?” She struggled to extract herself from his captivating gaze while she searched for an adequate answer to his question. “We have nay idea why ‘tis happening sae much,” she managed to stammer out. “Perhaps if the thieves see ye here, they would be deterred by your presence.”

  “I dinnae think sae.” A strange expression briefly crossed over his face. “I should get my things, and be on my way.”

  “Now?” she asked, surprised at his abrupt answer.

  “Aye, I have business tae attend.”

  “It’ll be dark soon,” she said, fighting back a queer lump of disappointment that suddenly formed in her throat. She swallowed it back and offered a smile. “Why dinnae ye stay the night? With all the help that ye have given us, ‘tis the least we can do for ye.”

  His lips twisted as he considered her offer. “All right,” he said after a long moment. “My horse and I can use a wee rest before we head out in the morning.”

  Chapter 12

  Now that his mount had settled in the stable, Griogair turned his attention to making his companion more comfortable. It was true that he had pushed the stallion too hard, and the animal needed to rest in a sheltered area for at least one night. Luckily the yarrow had worked its magic. While the steed sneezed and coughed occasionally, he no longer appeared as sickly as when they first ventured into Ellison territory.

  Reflecting over the events of the day, Griogair found that he was no closer to his goal. After he had helped the widow from the fire, he had a chance to observe the people. They were too distraught to answer questions, and he was doubtful as to whether they knew anything about Niall. For all he knew, his foster brother could be situated anywhere among the rolling hills, or in the forested area that surrounded the peel tower. It would take him days to find the lad. And if Griogair took the wrong direction, it might even take him weeks.

  But the puzzle started to come together when he questioned Sileas earlier about the raiders. As she revealed what she knew about the invasions, his suspicions were raised. His instincts told him that his foster brother was somehow connected to the clan attacks. Niall had entered this district only a week ago, and it seemed too coincidental that the disturbances started in the same time frame. It was unlikely that Niall was aware that he harassed only the weak and vulnerable. He was unpredictable, and the sooner Griogair got to him, the faster he could convince his foster brother to stop his terrorizing.

  Still, the one thing that he found curious about this place was that the able-bodied men had left the women, aged clansmen and bairns to fend for themselves. Perhaps they did things differently in this region. The Borderlands were populated with hardened folk who had seen countless wars, and who were victims to crimes from both sides of the border. Every time the English invaded Scottish soil, they caused as much destruction and upheaval as possible. And with the multitude of wars that occurred throughout the centuries, the people were conditioned to be suspicious of any strangers that passed through their land. Little by little, they lost their regard for the authorities, and stood by rules of their own making. They became formidable fighters and were excellent horsemen. Knowing the background of the Lowlanders, Griogair recognized that in their own way, they were honorable men. And because of this, it didn’t make any sense why the Ellisons would sell a set of horses to them, and then turned around and steal them back.

  His mount let out a sneeze. Automatically, Griogair reached a reassuring hand and rested it on the beast’s neck.

  “Ye will find comfort here for the night,” he murmured as he started to take off the saddle and padding. Fortunately the horse’s illness wasn’t a serious one. The sickness came with the change of the season, and he knew that the stallion would recover soon enough.

  Lifting one of the horse’s hooves, he absently inspected it for pebbles. His steed was unbothered by the examination, and quietly ate the grains that were supplied to him.

  “Highlander,” a voice said behind him.

  Griogair turned and saw a youth who was a couple of years younger than his brother Ewan. He recognized the lad from earlier. When he had directed Symon to obtain water from the well, he was sullen and belligerent. Seeing him now, he seemed even more hostile. The boy was tall and thin for his age, but it was obvious that he still had some years before he reached his peak. At the moment though, his eyes were narrowed into slits and his mouth was set into a grave, thin line. His wavy light brown hair stood in disarray. While his face was as smooth as a bairn’s backside, his cheeks were stained red, as if his temper was about to erupt. He stood now at the far side of the stable, his legs spread apart in a hostile, aggressive manner. His posture suggested that he knew his position in the world, and that his words held influence. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that he was one of the youths that protected the peel tower.

  “Go back from where ye came from.” He held a pitched fork tightly at his side, and he appeared as if he planned on using it as a weapon. “We dinnae want your kind here.”

  “Och, why is that?” he asked, lifting a brow.

  “Your people are the cause of all of our problems,” he said as if his sweeping assessment explained everything.

  “All of your problems?” he said casually. “That’s quite an accusation.”

  “Well ‘tis true.” He tossed the handle of the pitch from one hand to the other. “Ye have caused enough trouble here, and we want ye off our land.”

  “I see.” He lifted up another horse leg for inspection. When he was satisfied that the hoof was clear, he brushed himself off, and straightened up to his full height.

  Symon’s eyes widened as he took in Griogair’s size, and he took a staggering step back. But then realizing that he still held the pitch fork in his hand, he took a bold step forward.

  “I suggest that ye prepare your horse and leave now. Ye may have saved my aunt, but my sister and I dinnae require interference from outsiders. And we especially dinnae need a Highlander around here.” He sneered at Griogair’s great kilt. “Your people cannae be trusted.”

  “Sae ye are Sileas’ brother,” he said, ignoring the slight while he examined the lad from head to feet.

  The lad’s face tightened as if he was affronted by the inspection. He was about to let loose a scathing comment when approaching feet interrupted them.

  A servant appeared and quickly glanced over at Symon before he turned to Griogair. “Sileas says I’m tae show ye tae your bed chamber.”

  As Griogair followed the servant out of the stable, he felt Sy
mon’s scrutiny boring into his back. He knew that he wasn’t wanted here, and he was glad to be leaving first thing in the morning.

  ***

  “Sae that’s what happened.” Her family listened intently while Sileas finished recounting her interactions with Griogair MacGregon.

  After consuming the herbal brew that she had brought from the market, Androu seemed in better spirits. Their mother offered him food, although he was more interested in hearing about the Highlander.

  “I want tae meet him,” Androu said.

  “’Twould seem that ye will meet him soon enough,” Jannet observed.

  “Well, I met him, and I dinnae trust him,” Symon said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I would have sent him away, but ye gave him a bed for the night.”

  “He’s leaving in the morning.” She frowned at Symon. “I suggest that ye be more civil toward our guest. After all, he was the one who bought the hares and yarrow from me. His generosity afforded us tae buy the remedy for Androu. And on top of that, he also saved Jannet from the fire.”

  “He seems verra charitable and brave,” her mother said. “Do ye think he would be willing tae stay here until our clansmen return? At first the attacks we had were a nuisance, but now they are becoming more vicious and unpredictable. Perhaps if we have a brawny man in our midst, the troublemakers will be deterred.”

  “This is what I’m thinking,” Jannet said, peering up from her spinning. “While we have a handful of elderly clansmen tae protect us, they arenae strong enough tae frighten the raiders. Griogair, on the other hand, appears menacing enough tae scare them off.”

  “Then ‘tis decided,” Crystane said, nodding her head. “Sileas, ask him tomorrow whether he’ll change his mind about staying.”

  “But what will we submit tae him? Need I remind ye that we dinnae have money tae hire him,” Sileas pointed out.

  “Perhaps he can be persuaded tae stay for another reason,” Jannet said.

  “Another reason?” she repeated.

  Her mother set the spoon in the half empty bowl of gruel and put it aside. She observed her sister with curiosity. “What do ye mean, Jannet?”

  “I saw the look of interest he gave Sileas,” her aunt shrugged. “The lass is bonny tae be sure. Any warm-bloodied male would see that. All she has tae do is use honeyed words, and persuade him tae stay.”

  Sileas stared at Jannet, the suggestion shocking her. Was it possible that the Highlander was attracted to her? An immediate flush of pleasure rushed through her body. She had encountered plenty of men, but none of them had captured her attention like he did. True enough, she had plenty of burdens as the daughter of the clan chief. And she had always believed that she would remain a maid for the rest of her days. The fact was there were few men who were wealthy enough to sustain a growing family. And surviving in this cruel environment was difficult. She didn’t want to bring children into this world just so they would toil and struggle as much as their parents. But Griogair was different, her mind whispered. If she judged him by the quality of his clothing and the way he carried himself, she perceived that he was used to a degree of wealth. In this case he would do well to provide for a family. But she was well aware that she was only an impoverished border maiden. Why would he be interested in her? She had nothing to offer him.

  Getting up, Sileas walked to the window. “I believe that Jannet is mistaken about Griogair.” She turned her back to her family so that her emotions wouldn’t betray her. “I’ll appeal tae his sense of compassion. And if he stays, it willnae be because of me.”

  Chapter 13

  “Griogair,” Sileas called to him.

  He paused in tightening the saddle on his mount and glanced behind him. When he saw her, he cursed himself for looking.

  “Can I convince ye tae stay with us for a few days until our clansmen come back from their journey?” she asked, her tone pleasant. Her pretty lips were turned up in a hopeful smile. “My ma and aunt seems tae think your strong presence here will help discourage the attackers. As I’ve told ye, they’ve become such a nuisance —”

  “I’m sorry, lass,” he said, shaking his head. “I must leave.”

  “Och.” The smile faded from her eyes, and he sensed her withdrawing from him. “We are grateful for all ye have done for us. Thank ye.” She paused as if she searched for something else to fill the awkwardness. Finally she said, “I can have the cook prepare a meal for your travel.”

  “Nay,” he said. “I have oat flour in my sack, sae I should be fine.”

  Wishing him well, she turned to leave. His gaze followed the soft sway of her hips as she moved away from him. For a moment he regretted that he couldn’t stay longer. Obviously he understood their plight. But he had a mission to complete, and the security of her clan was none of his concern.

  Forcing his attention away from Sileas, he climbed on his horse, and made his way out of the stable. His mind began to wander over the details of what he knew. According to Alasdar, Robart was slain on Ellison territory. But what really happened that night? And did a member of clan Ellison execute Robart, or was it someone else?

  A crash sounded in the distance, causing him to stop. While the courtyard was almost empty, most of the activity was occurring past the gateway. The people were busy cleaning up, and repairing the wreckage that the marauders caused. He could see a nag loaded with branches and the two females who struggled with it. Frustrated at the animal’s stubbornness, they shouted and hit at the creature in an attempt to make it move from his spot.

  Griogair shook his head, trying to dislodge the sympathy he felt for the hardworking women. Without help from their men, they had a difficult task ahead in recovering from the damages.

  As he started to cross over the square, he saw a streak from the corner of his eyes. Swiveling his head, he was just in time to see someone duck behind a cart of hay that sat several feet from the barmkin gate. Griogair might have ignored the figure except he found it odd that a person would sneak around in the near empty courtyard. He suspected that whoever it was, it wasn’t someone who belonged here.

  Slipping off his mount, he moved to the cart and silently circled his way to the back of the transport. The culprit crouched low to the ground, his back toward Griogair. The man seemed to watch the door of the keep as if he contemplated how he would enter the tower without being seen.

  Coming up from behind, Griogair grabbed the trespasser by the collar. “What are ye doing here?”

  “What the —” the man said, tugging at Griogair’s hand, and trying desperately to escape from his grasp.

  Griogair seized the hood and pulled it aside to reveal the man’s features. “Carr,” he said, instantly recognizing the other Highlander.

  “Griogair,” he gasped. “What are ye doing here?”

  “I should ask the same of ye,” he said. “Tell me where tae find Niall.”

  “Who’s this man?” an angry voice demanded.

  He turned his head only to discover Sileas’ younger brother standing at his side. But at that exact moment Carr took advantage of the distraction. Jerking out of his grasp, he took off. Griogair raced after the fugitive, but he had already disappeared through the barmkin gate. There was no way he would be able to catch up to the other man. Slowing down, he let out a frustrated rush of air. He was so close to finding answers about Niall, but that opportunity had slipped through his fingers. At least his suspicions were confirmed. There was now no doubt in his mind that his foster brother was behind the terrorization of the villagers, and he lurked somewhere nearby. He started to turn back to his horse when he discovered that Symon had come to stand beside him.

  “He was one of the bandits who’s aggravating us lately, isnae he?” he asked, his hands cradling his ribs as he huffed from the exertion of running.

  “I believe sae,” Griogair said, trying to shake the annoyance from his voice. Had the lad not shouted, he might have extracted something useful from Carr.

  There was only one thing to do. Ta
king his horse, he led him back to the stable, and set him in one of the empty compartments. Then when that was finished, he made his way through the gateway to survey the line of residences that stood near the perimeter of the protective wall. In the morning light he could see that a few of the thatched structures were ruined, although none of them sustained as much damage as the widow’s dwelling. As Griogair examined her house, his mood darkened. The woman would have died if he hadn’t come along to save her. It reminded him too much of how the Cunningtouns had perished. They too were caught in the middle of a battle between two factions. Blane Cunningtoun, the only surviving member of the family, was beside himself with fury and grief as he watched his relations burn to death. Indeed everyone present was filled with the same outrage and remorse. But Rory was right. There wasn’t anything that could be done to save the family. The English outnumbered them five to one, and he along with the rest of the Highlanders were too exhausted and injured to fight. If they showed themselves to their enemies, they would have died that day as well.

  Griogair splayed his fingers over his eyes as he tried to rid himself of the horrible memories. He only hoped that he could find Niall quickly before he injured more innocent folk.

  Sileas looked up and caught his eye. She straightened her back. “Ye are still here,” she said, surprise in her voice.

  “Aye, I’ve been thinking about what ye said, and decided that I should stay after all.”

  “Och, ‘tis verra generous of ye tae remain here with my people.”

  “I see that ye can use some help.” He watched as the widow dragged a burned and broken log to the front of the house. Walking over to the older woman, he took the wood from her. “I’ll do that,” he said.

  “Thank ye.” Jannet placed a hand to the small of her back and expelled a rush of air. She gave him a broad smile. “I ken that ye would be back.”

  ***

  Griogair took out the majority of the debris from inside the abode, and began to tackle the roof. With the skill of someone who was used to commanding others, he quickly assembled a handful of youths to help him.