Celtic Peril (Celtic Storm Book 6)

by Ria Cantrell

  A darkness suddenly came into Morag’s eyes and a hollowness entered her voice as she said, “I learned in the worst possible way that ye’ canna’ change what is set to happen. This gift of walkin’ through eras has its curses, too. I have paid dearly for my meddlin’ with time. The price has put a rift in my heart that I have carried so many years. I shall ne’er be free of its burden.”

  “Do ye’ wish to tell me, dear?”

  Tom liked that this woman, Bronwyn, was so kind to the aged woman.

  A shudder seemed to pass through Morag and she said, “I tried to change the course of something that happened and I misused the Gift to set it right, only, when I went back, t’was my presence that actually caused the tragedy. I knew then I should have ne’er tried to fix it. Lad, ye’ canna’ change what has already been written. It would set a path of destruction and I dunna’ know what the outcome would be if ye’ do.”

  “But, I may be able to save someone’s life.”

  “Aye, I believed that, too. Instead, I think t’was my meddlin’ that ended the life of the only man I have e’er loved.”

  “My father? Do you mean my father?”

  Morag hung her head and murmured, “Aye.”

  “Please, I need to know. Please tell me about him.”

  The darkness that had clouded the icy grey depths of Morag’s eyes suddenly lifted and light sparkled within them. “Ach, ye’ look so much like him. He was so verra’ handsome. I dunna’ know why I could nay see it at first, but now as I look upon ye’, there is no denyin’ ye’ are his.”

  “What was he like?”

  “He was kind and strong. He loved me more than I deserved. And he loved ye’ even though he ne’er got to meet ye’. He was so happy to learn I was carryin’ ye’. I wish he had seen the man ye’ have grown to be.”

  “He died before I was born?”

  “Aye.”

  A lone tear trickled down the weathered cheek and she said softly, “He was killed by the MacKenzie. I was carryin’ ye’ only a short time when those backstabbing blackguards took him from me. I canna’ speak more of it for though it happened long ago, the memory of it plagues me still and it cleaves my heart in twain.”

  Bronwyn went to the old woman and put a comforting arm around her frail shoulders. “Alright, love. Ye’ need nay speak more of it.”

  “I will tell ye, Tavish, all ye’ want to know about yer’ father. That I will do. I owe ye’ that much at least. But ye’ canna’ change that which is written. Promise me ye’ will try nay to sway the course of time.”

  “I don’t know. I mean, maybe it is in the history books because of what I can do now.”

  “Nay, my son, nay. T’is not to be trifled with. Every time I walk between the worlds of days, I pay a dear price. I only tried to change what was once and the consequences, well, they cost me yer’ da’. They ultimately cost me ye’, as well.”

  Tom pondered Morag’s words for a minute. He could see that the actions of her past had been quite harmful to her in many ways, but he still felt the need to tell someone. He needed to warn someone; anyone. Finally he asked, “But what about bringing Kiera here? Doesn’t that change things?”

  Morag once again hung her head as if in defeat. She did not know what bringing the woman here, as well as her son would cause in the grand weft of the Tapestry of Time. She only hoped that minimal damage would be done, but what Tavish was seeking to do could change the course of the eras and there would be no telling what would happen if he followed that path. Nay, she could not let him; that was quite certain. Already, the Wheel of Time was moving. She could feel it. Why, just Tavish returning to her was a sign that all was not at rest.

  The foreboding warning came to her clearly when she had consulted her scrying stones earlier that morn. Normally, the images that came to her where quite clear, but this day, the stones lay murky and the images were haunted and vague, still the sense of danger and warning was strong. Morag silently prayed she would be able to endure the wrath, this time, for her manipulation of the Wheel, for It had been a harsh and cruel task master in the past. What had been done was done. There was nothing she could do to change the course, now. Nothing except going back and undoing what she had already done and Morag was not about to ever do that again.

  ~

  Chapter Thirty-Three ~

  Jenna sat quietly in her saddle as she rode along side of her grandfather, Caleb. They had returned to MacCollum Keep on the previous day and her Uncle Ruiri had pressing matters to attend to with one of the neighboring rival clans. They had forged a tenuous peace and Ruiri was needed to quell a simmering feud that they did not want to have escalate. Caleb thought about Ruiri and how far he had come from the angry young man he once was. His youngest son still had spirit; there was no doubt about that, but he had a cooler head ever since he had married Brielle. She had been so good for his son, who had been damaged by tragedy at a young age. Even though his other sons were capable of tending to clan matters, Caleb knew that Ruiri was the best man for the job. He was a natural born leader. Men followed him almost blindly and he had been responsible for treaties with rival clans that even he, as laird of the clan had not been able to do. All his sons were strong warriors, but his eldest son Jamie seemed to have settled into the role of sheep herder and cultivator of fine wools, which had greatly increased the prosperity of MacCollum. Liam and Shawn were deeply loyal to their clan but had seen less and less fighting over the years and they had grown content with family and farming. Caleb pondered these matters, more regularly, it seemed. The passing of time appeared to happen quicker these days and Caleb knew that the day would come when he would need to pass his legacy onto one of his sons. Today would not be that day as he escorted his beautiful granddaughter back to her home.

  Caleb looked over at his precious Jenna and noted how grown up she had become. When had that happened? Only yesterday it seemed she was chasing after him in a child’s game. Here she was, though, a woman, fully grown, and a beautiful one at that. She had an impetuous nature, but she also had a good heart and strong conscience. Caleb noted her quiet demeanor and he reckoned she had admonished herself for her rash decision to go the MacDougal Fete more than anything her parents would do to her upon her return. Something had happened at there that seemed to have changed his sweet girl. She appeared to be more demure and settled. There was only one thing that could do that, and that was a beau. Jenna was in love, but who was the object of her affection? She was very quiet and no one seemed to know if Jenna had met someone during the Samhain Feast. Ruiri had never let her out of his sight and if he knew, he mentioned no name of anyone. Caleb cleared his throat and he said, “Are ye’ going to tell me his name, lass?”

  Jenna’s eyes flew to her grandfather’s and blush crept into her cheeks. So, it was true! The untouchable ice maiden had tasted her first infatuation.

  “He’s no one, Grandfather.”

  “Hmm, he must be someone, Jenna, else you would have denied it. Come now, tell yer’ grandda’ all about him. I shall nay have to flay him alive, shall I?”

  Jenna hung her head and murmured, “Nay.”

  “Well then, tell me about him.”

  Jenna could always go to her grandfather when things troubled her but this felt different. She was not even sure Tavish MacCollum existed. First she had seen him at the MacDougal castle and then she had visited him in her dreams and he was locked in her home, days away from MacDougal land. It was sheer madness to even ponder.

  “I only met him briefly. He was a stranger and nobody knew him. Our meeting was quick and then I never saw him again. Well not really, anyway.”

  She could not tell her grandfather that she had somehow “dream-walked” her way into her home to comfort a man who had stolen a kiss from her. The whole thing made no sense at all.

  “Ah, well for a brief meeting, he must have made an impression on ye’. I’ve never known ye’ to be so silent and I have a feeling that has nothing to do with yer’ escapade.”

/>   “Nay. I know now I should nay have left my parents during this difficult time, but ye’ are right, Grandda’. T’is because I think I shall never see Tavish MacCollum again. Mayhap I even imagined him.”

  “What did ye’ say?”

  “I don’t think I will see him again for he disappeared quickly after I met him.”

  “Not that part, lass. What did ye’ say his name was?”

  “He said his name was Tavish MacCollum. He had to be lying to me. He must have noticed my plaid and he thought to charm me by claiming kinship to our clan. I know all the men of MacCollum.”

  “Lass, there are many of us in the world. Some of us are called MacCallum, or Malcolm. Even I dunna’ know them all. We are descended from an ancient Irish clan that came to Iona to follow a great Christian saint. Our clan is just a small branch of those who followed the Mystic. Why even now, Iona is a sacred place because of the Saint’s journey. But I had not thought of that name for a long time. We had none other, in our clan that I knew of.”

  “None other? Did ye’ know a Tavish MacCollum?”

  “Nay, lass. I did nay know him. My father did. It is something we dunna’ speak of.”

  Laughing softly, Jenna said, “Grandda’, while ye’ are ever my champion, this man was mayhap only a few years older than me. The man ye’ speak of must have been older than….,” Jenna’s voice faded. She did not want to remind her grandfather that he was nearing the end of his life.

  His eyes twinkled and he smiled at his granddaughter. “Aye, I am an auld man, lass. And ye’ are right. This man would have been my age or a little older. He was but a child when my da’ was the new laird of the clan. No one knew what happened to him and none questioned the only one who could know. T’is just odd that this was the name yer’ swain gave ye’.”

  Blush flooded Jenna’s face again and she said, “He is nay my swain, Grandfather. He was just a man I met briefly. T’is of no importance now.”

  “Ah, but it is of importance, my sweet girl. I dunna’ think I ever saw ye’ brood over a man before.”

  “I was not brooding.”

  “Nay? Ye’ve barely spoken a word since we began our journey back to yer’ home. Ye’ve already admitted that ye’ are nay punishing yerself for yer’ decision to join the Fete. It must be because of a lad.”

  “Well, I dunna’ think anything will come of it. As I said, no one knows him.”

  “Lassie, I have scouts far and wide. I can find him fer’ ye’ if ye’ wish me to.”

  Jenna looked at Caleb once more; hope lighting in her eyes for she did not know why, but she had to see him again.

  “Yes, girl. I can ask around about him, if yer’ certain he matters to ye’. Ye’ dunna’ know anything about him.”

  “That’s true. But….”

  “But sometimes, none of that matters, does it? I was young once, too, ye’ know, lass. Yer’ grandmother was all I could think about back in those days. Ach, I loved her so.”

  Jenna smiled. Her grandfather was one of the toughest men she knew, but he had a soft spot for the women in his life. Her grandmother Mairghred, who she never met, her mum, her step-grandmother Mara, her Auntie Brielle and her cousin Brigid Caitlyn held pieces of Caleb MacCollum’s heart and turned that tough old man to mush, Jenna’ reckoned. Her own heart welled with love for the man who rode beside her. She knew why he had volunteered to escort her home. He was going to speak on her behalf and no doubt plead for a lesser sentence for her disobedience. Jenna did not even fear the consequences anymore. It was true. Nothing mattered but seeing that mysterious man again. She only hoped he wasn’t still locked up in the castle because she was afraid he would die if he was. Then again, if he was in the keep, seeing him again would only be a matter of hours now.

  Caleb grinned. Oh yes, Jenna was smitten. There was no doubt about it. He urged, “Why don’t ye’ tell me about him. What’s he like, if ye’ can remember.” He liked teasing Jenna. She was such an easy target.

  “I can remember, Grandfather. Believe me.”

  “I’m nay sure I like the sound of that. Are ye’ sure I am nay going to have to thrash the lad for anything?”

  The memory of his kiss lingered in Jenna’s thoughts but she wasn’t about to share that with Caleb. She said, “There is nothing to thrash him for, Grandfather.”

  “Well, tell me what he looked like, so if I have to send one of my scouts out to find him, I will know how to describe him.”

  “He’s tall. Near as tall as Uncle Ruiri; leaner, I suppose, but still strong. He has dark hair, and though t’is nay as long as men from our clan, it comes to the bottom of his chin. And his eyes, ach, they were the oddest shade of grey I have ever seen; like the quicksilver of salmon in the streams.”

  “Silver? Did ye’ say he had silver eyes?”

  “Aye. Well not silver, exactly, for it must have been a trick of the moon.”

  Jenna knew that even that limited description made her appear to be a besotted and lovesick girl. Caleb said “I’ll be damned; silver eyes. It canna be.”

  “Grandda’, what do ye’ mean? What did ye’ mean about that other man; that no one knew about what had happened to him?”

  “He was nay a man but a child. It was a long time ago lass and t’is nay my story to tell. It was something that put a rift in a woman’s heart and it was deemed best to nay speak of it again.”

  “What woman?”

  “Look, Lass, there are things that some people keep locked deep inside. T’is best nay to tamper with those buried things. Now tell me more about yer’ Tavish MacCollum.”

  “He’s nay my Tavish, Grandda’. Why did my mention of the color of his eyes get such a reaction?”

  “T’is just a grand coincidence, lass. Nothing more. Go on.”

  Jenna could not let it rest. She pressed her grandfather and said, “Please tell me what ye’ mean. T’is mysterious enough and if ye’ know something, I would rather know now.”

  “Well, I have only known one other person in our clan that had silver eyes. In all my years, I’ve yet to meet anyone else with that characteristic. Ye’ see, as Laird, I make it my business to study my people. I observe those who are friend and foe of MacCollum. That is truly quite a coincidence after all.”

  “I do so hate riddles, Grandda’. What does the color of the man’s eyes have to do with--oh wait! Nana Morag! She has eyes that color. I nearly forgot. They seem more grey these days, but is that who ye’ mean?”

  “Aye lass and again I say, t’is a strange place that is a woman’s heart. There are secrets locked away that only a woman can keep. T’is Nana Morag’s story to tell, nay mine.”

  “Did Nana Morag have a son named Tavish?”

  “Aye, she did, but as I said, t’was long ago. T’is something she never speaks of. Ach, a woman’s heart is a precious thing, indeed. Never mind that. Tell me more of why ye’ like this young man. I dare say, t’is quite a happy surprise. I think ye’ may wed yet.”

  Jenna frowned at her grandfather. It was one blasted kiss. Surely that did not equate to a betrothal. Caleb grinned boldly at his feisty granddaughter.

  “Ye’ are too pretty to be a spinster, lass. And lest ye’ forget. Ye’ are a MacCollum. We are best when we are mated to our heart’s choosin’.”

  “I did nay know ye’ believed in all that silly romantic frippery.”

  “Ahhh, lassie. T’is nay frippery. It gives our lives purpose and meaning. It makes ye’ more alive than ye’ can imagine. Now are ye’ gonna’ finish yer’ tale about Young Tavish?”

  With a heavy sigh, Jenna’s shoulders sagged a little. “There really is nay much to tell. I met him once at the MacDougals and then I dreamed I met him again.”

  “And, did he seem to want to get to know ye’?”

  “Aye, until that big brute uncle of mine flexed his bullyin’ arm and my encounter was over as quickly as it began.”

  “Anddddd? What are ye’ nay tellin’ yer’ grandfather? The important part, lass.”

&
nbsp; “I dunna’ know what ye’ mean.”

  “I mean, why if ye’ only had a brief meetin’ do ye’ like him? Why does he invade yer’ dreams?”

  “I dunna’ know. Something in his eyes, I suppose. There was a kindness there. He seemed concerned for my well bein’. I dunna’ know. Aye, he was handsome, but t’was nay just that. There was something else. Like I had seen him before; like I have known him; like he knows me. What is wrong with me grandda’?”

  “Ach, my beauty. There is nay wrong with ye’. T’was the same for your darlin’ mother. She had dreamed of yer’ da’ her entire life and though she denied it, the memory of it became the truth. I suspect t’is the same fer ye’, my precious girl. And t’is about time, too.”

  Jenna cast her grandfather a withering look. “Oh not ye’, too, Granddad. I thought ye’ were on my side.”

  “I am ever yer’ champion, Love. I want nothin’ more than fer’ ye’ to be happy. I dunna’ know why ye’ run so much, but lovin’ someone is nay a bad thing, ye’ know?”

  With a sad smile, Jenna said, “Well, I doubt I shall ever see him again.”

  “Do ye’? The Guardians have a way of changin’ that. Why, if time and space stand in yer’ way, the Ancients can thwart it.”

  Jenna felt a chill race down her spine at her grandfather’s words. She had not been one to believe all those ancient things that her mother did, or for that matter, most of her clan, but something in her grandfather’s argument unsettled her. It was as if the Ancients were there with them now and more than ever, Jenna just wanted to be home.

  ~

  Chapter Thirty-Four ~

  The riders had been spotted by the watch and Bronwyn knew that her ruse was about to come to an end. Her wayward daughter was approaching escorted by none other than her father. She did not know if she should be overjoyed or terrified. The king’s visit had gone quite well so far. While he had enjoyed dining with Jenna’s double, he seemed to lose interest, and Bronwyn was relieved. The king wanted to tour their lands and Drew was out with Erik and her son, to accompany the king on his quest to see their holdings. They had taken a handful of their guards and the day was mild enough for the king’s folly. Luck was with them as the approaching riders would be at the keep long before the king’s return. At least Bronwyn would have enough time to speak to her daughter and keep her hidden until the king’s visit ended.