The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

by Purington, Sky

  “’Tis unavoidable sometimes,” he grunted, his eyes still trained on the fire. “Especially when they are so...graphic.”

  She twisted her lips and repressed a smirk. They had been that.

  “Well, that’s neither here nor there,” she said, trying to make her tone sound as light as possible. “Because today’s a new day, right?”

  “Aye,” he said softly as his eyes finally turned her way. “As you likely gathered yesterday, we willnae be staying in one place overly long. Many have already packed up and traveled. You should eat so that we can follow.”

  Lindsay nodded and nibbled on her fish as he went to the window and kept an eye out. It was clear he was tense about their situation as his eyes stayed trained on their surroundings and his hand rested on the hilt of his sheathed blade.

  “So no sign of anyone else yet?” She frowned. “Not even Adlin or your grandfather?”

  “Nay.” He sighed and shook his head. “Right now, I am the only wizard here.”

  She sipped her water and considered that. “But not the only one with magic.”

  His eyes met hers. “Which is why we should continue working on your training.” His expression grew sterner yet she swore his eyes softened. “Something that would go far better if I knew what first sparked your gift.”

  He was about to say more when several taps came at the door before William entered. He looked more disgruntled than ever as he made a flippant gesture. “The Bruce is gone but will try to catch up with us later.”

  “Gone back to the Sassenach?” Conall frowned. “Is that not what he needs to do?”

  “Aye,” William muttered as he shook his head. “But I dinnae like it.” He scowled. “Something feels off.”

  “You dinnae trust him after all then?” Conall invited William to sit, but he shook his head. “Did something happen?”

  William clenched his jaw, clearly debating how much he wanted to share. “He just wasnae himself.” He glanced at Lindsay. “Different in a way that is hard to explain.”

  Conall’s frown grew heavier as he began strapping on weapons. “Nonetheless, explain the best you can, aye?”

  “He was acting...bewitched this morn, for lack of a better word.” William’s eyes returned to Lindsay. “And ‘twas not yer name on his lips, lass.”

  She could not help but be genuinely surprised. He had seemed quite smitten.

  “Whose name was it then?” Conall asked.

  “Christina,” William murmured as his eyes narrowed on Lindsay. “A most unusual name in these parts.”

  She stood abruptly and shook her head, remembering all too well Christina’s voice in her dreams before waking. “You must be mistaken.”

  William shook his head. “Nay.”

  “There’s more, isn’t there?” Conall said softly, his astute gaze on William.

  “Aye.” William looked from Lindsay to Conall. “The Bruce’s eyes werenae quite right...they werenae quite his.”

  Tension knotted her shoulders. “What does that mean?”

  Deep down she knew. Suspected.

  “They were darker than they should have been,” he stated. “So dark that superstition has several of my men scattering.”

  “How many?” Conall asked.

  “More than I would like,” he replied. “Mayhap a quarter so far.”

  Conall frowned, more concerned, it seemed by a possessed Robert returning to the English. “Do you suspect he returns to the Sassenach to tell them of your location?”

  “I think ‘tis best to assume that, aye?” William said. “As such, we will be breaking off into smaller bands to confuse them.”

  Conall nodded, evidently in agreement as his eyes went to Lindsay. Though he masked it quickly, she didn’t miss his concern as he ripped a strip of material off the bottom of his tunic and headed her way.

  Her eyes widened as he stopped in front of her. “Am I to play prisoner again then?”

  “Nay, but ‘twould be wise to look less like you,” he murmured as he tied her hair back so swiftly, she would swear he had done it countless times. He stood close enough that she could feel the heat coming off of him and see the tiny mint flecks in his rich green eyes.

  His gaze never quite met hers as he finished with her hair then wrapped a fur cloak around her shoulders before he pulled on her hood. Yet all the while, she knew he wanted to meet her eyes. That he was as aware of her as she was of him.

  “There, that’s a bit better,” he said, his voice deeper and huskier than usual before he stepped back and looked her over. “Have you a spare pair of trousers, Wallace?”

  Lindsay frowned. “You can’t be serious.” Her eyes went to William. “He’s got to be almost ten inches taller than me.” Her eyes returned to Conall. “Just like you.”

  “’Tis but fabric that can be adjusted.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Have you then, William?”

  “I’m afraid not.” William gave Conall a pointed look. “And whilst I ken yer trying to make her look more like a lad, with a lass like Lindsay, ‘tis wasted effort, aye?” He winked at Lindsay. “She’s the bonnie sort that is unmistakably a lass no matter how much ye try to hide it.”

  Conall’s gaze flickered down her body so quickly she barely caught it, but what she did see told her he was in complete agreement.

  “’Twould probably be best if ye didnae travel with me,” William said as he opened the door. “They’ll be tracking me before all else.”

  “Mayhap,” Conall murmured, clearly not all that convinced as his eyes swept over Lindsay again. “Whilst mayhap some of the Sassenach will, I suspect their warlock has but one target.”

  “Or two,” Lindsay said, her eyes firmly on Conall as he took it upon himself to sit her down and put her boots on. “You tend to think I need all the protecting when you do as well.”

  He offered no response but tied her boots with the same swift precision he had her hair. Meanwhile, William left, saying he would see them again soon if that’s what fate intended. Once they were alone, she put a hand on Conall’s shoulder before he could stand.

  Though she meant to say a great number of things when she touched him, as his eyes met hers, she said something unanticipated but surprisingly true.

  “While today is a new day and things shouldn’t progress like they have been,” she murmured. “I would like things to change between us. Not sexually...” She shook her head. “I mean yes, things need to change sexually.” Not really. Not at all. Lord, get your words straight, Linds. “What I mean is...I’d like to try to get along better...maybe be friends.”

  Conall considered her for a moment, his expression unreadable before he finished lacing up her boot and stood.

  “So is that a yes?” she asked as she stood as well.

  “I think we both know we’re past that,” he grumbled as he doused the fire. His eyes finally met hers again and lingered before he said the last thing she expected “After all, we’ve known each other since we were bairns, aye?”

  Chapter Twelve

  CONALL DIDN’T GIVE Lindsay a chance to respond but opened the door to thick drifts of snow and urged her to follow. The day had dawned cold and windy. Though it was no longer snowing, it would be again by nightfall.

  “We’ve one horse to spare,” came a deep voice as a man with dark auburn hair came alongside with a dappled gray. “He’s sturdy enough for ye both if ye dinnae push him too hard.”

  Conall nodded. “Thank you, friend.”

  “The name’s Simon Fraser.” He swung up onto his own mount. “Wallace wishes ye to travel with me.”

  Though Conall didn’t recall Simon from the Battle of Stirling Bridge, he knew he had fought well and stood by Moray until the end. In all honesty, he had a great deal of respect for Simon’s role in all of this. How much he had been willing to sacrifice for Scotland.

  Lindsay smiled and introduced herself. “Nice to meet you, Simon.”

  Like all men, Simon’s eyes lingered on her face for a moment before he
nodded firmly then trotted on ahead.

  “My goodness,” she murmured as Conall mounted then pulled her up in front of him. “I think I finally just met a man who can’t be enchanted...outside of you that is.”

  “Och, there were bound to be one or two of us about,” he muttered, not so sure about that. Maybe when it came to Simon but not Conall. He was beginning to think he wasn’t immune to Lindsay’s charms in the least. Not based on the smitten and protective way he always felt around her.

  Before she could speak again, he entered her mind. “From here on out ‘twould be best to speak within the mind. The wind can too easily carry our voices.”

  He didn’t miss the slight tremble of her body in response. One directly related to the sound of his voice in her mind. She said nothing for some time as they followed Simon’s men, single file into the forest. When she finally did speak, he sensed rather than heard how careful she was with her words.

  “So you finally figured out who I am,” she said. “You figured out I was the girl in the tree.”

  “Aye,” he responded, softening his internal voice the best he could. “You were...” How should he phrase this? Truthfully, he supposed. “A welcome addition to my life, lass.”

  “How did it happen?” Her voice was distant, soft, though he sensed great emotion in it. “How did we connect across time so long ago?”

  “That was something I believe we were somewhat curious about back then too, aye?” It took all he had not to wrap his arm around her mid-section. To pull close a lass who had meant so much to him.

  “We did talk about it back then,” she conceded, shaking her head. “But as you can imagine, I thought you were, in some ways, make believe.” Humor laced her words. “I was proud of my Scottish ancestry, so creating a Scottish boy at the base of a tree wasn't all that far-fetched.”

  “You created a lot of things back then if I recall correctly,” he commented, unable to stop a small smile. “I remember meeting several versions of you. All of which always became the girl I knew from the beginning. The girl who eventually vanished.”

  “You mean your friend.” She glanced over her shoulder into his eyes. “We were friends, Conall, and we can be again.”

  Their eyes lingered on one another’s before she looked forward again.

  Could they be friends now after so much time had passed? Could they be friends after the intimacy they had shared?

  “Of course we can,” she whispered into his mind, following his thoughts far too readily. “We got along pretty well if I recall. We had fun.” She grinned and jested. “Come on now, it isn’t every little girl who stands up to a wizard as powerful as Adlin.”

  “That’s right. You helped spark my magic, aye?” A small grin tugged at his lips. “’Twas you who embarrassed Adlin in front of the lassies that day at the oak tree.”

  “Like you said,” she replied. “He was awfully full of himself.”

  “Even then, you were coming into your magic,” he remarked. “Shaking the tree like that then whipping acorns. ‘Twas a good way to make Adlin’s spell appear as though it hadnae worked.”

  “I always thought so,” she agreed, a smile in her internal voice. “Something you found out much later.” She glanced over her shoulder with amusement. “So why tell me that was your first time using magic when technically it wasn’t?”

  “Because I always felt it was in its own way, and I told you as much back then,” he reminded. “I might not have initially known it was you in the tree that day, but everything I said when teaching you was true. I felt my magic had ignited and that’s all it took. I released my fear and embraced my gift.” He shrugged. “Technicalities dinnae matter.”

  “Some could say technicalities very much matter when it comes to magic.” She smirked, her eyes all-knowing because she was absolutely correct. “But you always did like that story, so I’ll let you get away with it.” She chuckled and faced forward again. “I definitely think it might be good for us to try to find what we once had rather than bickering so much.”

  “What we once had was a kinship betwixt bairns,” he pointed out. “’Twas easier.”

  “Maybe...” she replied, her internal voice trailing off.

  Conall debated his next words, remembering all too well the difficulties she had shared. Her upbringing had been hard. More so than he ever realized. Though she had told him a lot, she never divulged how she ended up where she did. She never shared the violent death of her parents.

  That event, he imagined, first triggered her magic.

  Yet how was he ever going to get her to talk about it? How, when she had not even told him way back then, were they going to bridge that gap?

  Then he realized the answer was staring him right in the face. She had even suggested it.

  “We will try.” He nodded though she could not see him. “At friendship...again.”

  When she flashed a bonnie smile at him over her shoulder, he remembered well why this was a bad idea. Especially when his cock stirred, not interested in mere friendship in the least.

  “Good,” she replied. “Though your father said otherwise, did your family ever know about me? Did you ever tell any of them?”

  “Nay, only Da,” he began before stopping.

  “Right,” she responded, her voice soft and distant again. “You told him you would only marry the faery in the tree.”

  He offered no response because he truly had no idea what to say other than he very much meant it at the time. She was his closest friend, so it made perfect sense. What he never could have imagined, however, was that hairless lass growing up into the woman in front of him now.

  “Why did you cry that last time?” he whispered aloud before he could stop himself. Based on her lack of response, he assumed his question was carried away by the wind.

  Until that is, she replied at last.

  “Because I was leaving,” she said, her eyes still dead ahead. “That tree had given me a great deal of solace. You had. But I had to leave. I needed to start my life.”

  “You were still fairly young though, aye?”

  “I was,” she conceded. “But I looked old enough to pave a path for myself that wasn’t part of that world anymore. I stayed strong, made friends in the right places, started making money and forged my way to where I am now.” A wry grin tugged at her lips as she turned her head just enough that he could see her. “And where I am now seems to be right back where I began in some ways...but better.”

  Conall didn’t realize he had slipped his arm around her waist until her hand rested over his.

  They did not speak for some time after that but bore down against the inclement weather. Where he suspected Wallace would travel north some, he had sent out three groups going in every other direction. Including one brave lot across the river.

  Though it was barely audible on the wind, Conall didn’t miss the low whistle Simon suddenly released. Trouble was afoot. Though men were both ahead and behind them, it was hard to see anyone through the wind-driven snow, so he acted purely on instinct.

  “Remain silent,” he said into Lindsay’s mind as he swung down then pulled her after him. He had just enough time to pull her around a heavy cluster of evergreens and urge her to crouch before he heard voices.

  “Dinnae move,” he whispered before he nudged her further back into the bushes, pressed a dagger into her hand then carefully unsheathed his sword. He met her eyes, put a finger to his lips to remind her to remain silent then slowly edged along the bushes as cries rang out just ahead.

  They were under attack.

  While tempted to go fight and defend the men they traveled with, his first concern must be Lindsay. So he stayed close but not too close. If he did and were cut down, he would have accomplished nothing but leading the enemy right to her.

  So he remained vigilant and took down anyone who thought to head in her direction. First, a thin lad with an ugly sneer and haphazard armor. It was easy enough to slip his blade past the poorly kept chainmail
before he put a hand over the enemy's mouth to silence him and slit his throat. Next came a slightly larger Sassenach with a limp but a mean swing. Conall ducked beneath the blade, drove his dagger into the man’s windpipe then cracked his neck.

  All the while, Lindsay remained perfectly silent, her calm eyes watching his every move. More so, watching the blood that stained the snow not all that far from her. He realized as he fought another that she would not go into hysterics or even shock. If anything, what had happened to her parents had transformed her into something else entirely.

  A lass, as it happened, who was very good at keeping a level head in battle as she tossed him her blade when he struggled with not one but two foes. Though he managed to drive one through with his sword, the behemoth behind him was another story. The brute gave him more of a challenge than anticipated before heading in Lindsay’s direction.

  Rare was the day he came across a man taller than him, not to mention one with such a daunting girth. Typically, Conall was good at stabbing men where he could easily pull his weapon free, but it didn’t go that smoothly with the last man so he had naught but Lindsay’s dagger now. A dagger he used with expertise as he slashed the huge warrior again and again. Unfortunately, that didn’t slow him in the least. If anything, he seemed to be a rabid bear with nothing but Lindsay in his sights.

  To make matters worse, it appeared she had nothing but the rabid bear in her sights as well.

  “Bloody hell.” Conall shook his head as she slowly but confidently stood and locked eyes with the Sassenach warrior barreling her way.

  “It’s okay,” she said into Conall’s mind. “Let me do this. Let me help.”

  Asking him to allow the enemy anywhere near her was downright impossible, so he kept at the warrior only to run into a hard fist. He staggered back, stunned. The monster of a man had turned fast and punched him. The shocking part? The Sassenach had been defending Lindsay before he fell to one knee in front of her and lowered his head.