“The Green Lady of Crathes?” I say, and she nods her head.
“Aye, Crathes is built on sacred land, and they say that it’s her ghost that roams the halls and the grounds.”
“So how did one of her coins end up in a cave?” I ask Mac as I stare down at the coin as if it will somehow answer me.
“I dinna know. We’re not far from the castle, ye ken. Maybe she wandered in here some night. It is a sacred pool ye were wading in,” she says.
“Sacred pool! I had no idea,” I exclaim, horrified since I’ve just washed my face in it.
“You’re not from here are ye?” Mac says, and I have to laugh at that.
She looks at me like I’m a lunatic, and I can’t say I blame her. My laughter feels good; it’s a release, and it echoes throughout the cave. It does earn me a smile from my new friend. I’m glad I didn’t scare her.
“No, Mac, I’m not from here.”
“That’s yer business, aye. Where are ye going?”
Now that’s the million-dollar question. “I ran from MacGregor castle after a siege. I tried to draw the soldiers away since it appears that it’s me they’re after.”
“Ahhh. So you’re Lady Katherine. There was a grand skirmish at MacGregor castle. I canna believe the Murrays attacked when half the Highland warriors were at the games. The Sinclair laid waste to the Murray’s thugs. They’ve been looking for ye, though,” she says.
“Who has? The MacGregor’s?”
“Aye. Well, and the soldiers. There’s a price on yer head, ye ken. Dead or alive. What did ye do to vex the Murrays so?”
“Wrong place, wrong time,” I say, but no sooner are the words out of my mouth than I realize they’re not accurate. This is the right place and the right time.
“So what are ye going to do now, Kat? Will ye make a wish on the coin?” Mac asks quietly.
“Well, is it worth anything? Can you use it?” It looks like it’s made from some precious metal although I’m not sure.
Mac takes a step closer.
“You’d give me the Lady’s Coin?” she says.
“Here, take it. I have everything I need. I just have to get back to the castle and avoid the soldiers somehow.”
With her little delicate fingers, Mac takes the Lady’s Coin from my hand and looks up at me through her impossibly long lashes.
“Thank you, Kat. Maybe I can make a wish someday,” she says with a little smile.
“You’re welcome, Mac. Make it a good wish, yes?” I sincerely hope she uses it well.
Mac puts the Lady’s Coin in a small pocket in her skirt and pats it to make sure it’s there.
“Well then, we’ve got to get the fairies to help us. Come, I’ll take you to them.” Mac grabs my hand with her slim fingers and tugs me along after her.
“Wait, Mac! What are you talking about?” I don’t have time to go playing with fairies or other mythical creatures. “I have to get back to the castle before the soldiers find me. And the woods is no place for a young girl to be running around by herself.”
“I’m fine, ya ken? You’ll not get far without me,” she says quite confidently. “And besides, the fairies are no story. They’re my friends, and they can help us.” She doesn’t relent.
“Wait, really, Mac. It’s dangerous out there. What are we doing?” I can’t let a little girl run around the forest. I walk over and sit by my slippers. Though my feet are still wet and my dress is soaked, I can’t walk around bare-footed. I know the slippers won’t provide much protection against the forest floor, but they’re better than nothing.
“It’s more dangerous if I let ye run around the woods by yerself, aye. Come on, follow me.” And so I follow the little girl around the pool and through the other end of the cave. It’s dark again and I crouch down and slow my pace. Mac continues to pull me along, appearing confident in her steps. I wonder how many times she’s done this. I keep one hand in hers and one hand on the wall to guide me as we wander through the crevasses.
We emerge from the cave at the other side of the mountain, and I look down at the forest below. The treetops are tinged with orange and yellow, signs that the autumn is upon us. The light blue sky is dotted with fluffy white clouds here and there—the kind of clouds that as a child, you’d lie on your back in the grass and look for shapes within them. A bunny. A horse. An elephant.
The breeze stirs my hair and slaps my wet dress against my legs. I shiver.
“Come along and mind your step. This part’s a bit tricky.” Mac’s sweet little voice brings me back to reality. Her voice and face are at odds with her wildness. What kind of little girl goes traipsing around a forest or through caves and over mountains? I would take a book or a doll outside, but while the other neighborhood girls and boys were riding bikes and playing hide and seek, I would be reading. I always found adventure in books. Now, it seems, adventure has found me.
We descend the mountainside with only a few near-death experiences. Mac turns to me and holds her index finger in front of her lips, the universal signal to be quiet. So silently, we make our way through thick forest brush and while Mac can easily maneuver, the angry branches pull and poke me as I attempt to pass. Where Mac is as silent as a mouse, I’m more like an elephant stomping through the woods. I can tell she’s annoyed with me as she turns periodically to scowl at me, which is actually cute. She has big grey eyes and a little upturned nose. Mac’s russet waves and porcelain skin are at odds with her rough clothing. She belongs in silk and lace.
“Dammit!” I yell and grab my foot. I lean back against the closest tree and rub my aching heel. I must have stepped on a rock or twig and it jabbed me.
“Shush, Kat! Do ye want the whole of Murray’s soldiers to descend upon us?” No sympathy.
She continues forward, and I limp behind her, all the while cursing under my breath. The sounds of the forest and crunching gravel are barely audible over the pounding of my heart. Mac is fearless and I’m a spoiled princess. The least I can do is not complain or get us killed.
Nearing the bottom of the mountain, Mac takes her hands and cupping her mouth, makes a bird call. The answering call comes almost immediately, and before I know it, three little children come traipsing out of the woods. Though they look tough and worldly, I can’t help but see sweet faces beneath the dirt and torn clothes.
“What’s this?” the littlest one cocks her chin at me and Mac laughs.
“She’s the Lady that’s caused all the fuss,” she informs them.
A chorus of sighs and crossed arms is their response.
“We need a plan.”
“Well, Kat, I’ve been thinking of that. Let’s get back to the hole and then I’ll tell ye what I’ve been planning.”
“The hole?” I reply.
“Aye. Just follow us and be quiet.”
As our little gang makes its way through the dense foliage, it occurs to me that I’m the adult. The children are leading me around a forest crawling with soldiers that want to kill me, and it doesn’t seem to faze these little ones.
The girls move quietly through the forest. I, on the other hand, am scolded numerous times in hushed tones for being quite the opposite of quiet. Getting back to Angus and my new family is all I can think about. The old Katherine would be praying for a pedicure for her brutalized feet. Well, I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind at all.
One by one Mac’s merry little band disappears into a hole under a bush. I’m not so sure I’ll fit considering my size and the bulk of the dress. It’s barely big enough for the children. With much wriggling and pulling, I make it through and land soundly on my backside. I cringe to think of what sight I must be as they stare up at me.
A chorus of laughter greets me as I try to stand after falling through the hole. I’m glad someone thinks it’s funny.
“Not verra graceful for a lady, is she?”
More laughter. Even Mac is smiling as she pulls a rope and the bush covers the hole. The littlest member, Beatrice, or Bug as she prefers, lights the torch which illuminates a series of tunnels that boggles the imagination. “Who dug these tunnels, Mac?”
“Not sure who dug them. Some says the children that live in the forest, some says the night crawlers, and some says the fairies. I dinna care who dug them, we lives in them now. Keeps us safe. It’s our own world down here. We can rest and I can tell you the plan.”
Little Mac amazes me. She has created a whole world down here. It’s clean, dry, and full of amenities. These young girls have scavenged lights and blankets, constructed beds and tables, and have bookcases full of books. I’m impressed. I can barely get to Starbucks without my GPS and these little girls are living on their own.
As Mac takes me to the common room, we pass what I assume is a kitchen. There’s a girl standing over a pot stirring something that smells like stew. I take a closer look and see that the fire is vented up through the ceiling. There are a series of holes covered by another sparse bush. Further through the tunnels we pass a series of bedrooms and even room full of weapons. Some made by metalsmiths and others obviously made by the girls.
“Mac, I’m impressed. This place is amazing. How long have you been here? How many girls are here?”
Mac regards me with a strange expression and smirks, “Do ye want to save yer man or do ye want to have a cup of tea and biscuits and chat?”
Smart-ass. I like her a lot. “Okay, Mac, what’s the plan?”
Mac’s quite the strategist, and the girls are practically vibrating with excitement. The opportunity to storm the castle and slit a few Murray throats is all the incentive these girls need to help me. I’m overwhelmed with conflicting feelings. I can’t believe these little girls are living in tunnels, fending for themselves with no adult supervision. It has obviously fostered strong character and independence. But I feel a little sad that they live a hard life. No mother or father to tuck them in at night or to provide for them. Mac slants me a look as we’re seated around the fire eating stew. I decide they don’t need my pity. If anything, I can’t show fear in front of them. These girls can’t be more than thirteen years old, some of them eight or nine perhaps. I want to be worthy to fight alongside them. They’re risking their lives for me.
We’re finishing our stew and the littlest ones are laughing as they prepare their weapons: bow and arrow, swords, something that looks like a homemade knife. Goosebumps pebble my skin. I see anything but fear and I smile. The one they call Medusa (I’m going out on a limb by thinking it’s because of her dreadlocks) wants to know why I’m smiling. “Ah, well, I’m just thinking that I’m glad you’re all on my side.”
Cheers go up and I even garner a smile from Mac. Across the fire she holds my gaze with the eyes, not of a young girl, but a soul as old as time. “Is it worth it, Kat? Risking life and limb to save that barbarian? Ye could live here with us, no man telling ye what to do.”
I touch the Sinclair crest I’ve secreted under my dress, affixed to my shift. It’s been pressed against my breast, warm and hard, like the man himself. The words come out before I have a chance to think about them. “He’s my soul. I could no sooner part with him than my own heart.”
I’ve never been in love. I’ve never had close family other than Ava and Maddy, but the MacGregors, these girls, Angus, are my family now. I’ve never been more sure of anything. It’s peaceful and unsettling. Terrifying and liberating. Mac must see it in my eyes but shakes her head and says, “Well, I don’t know about all that poetry nonsense, but he is a braw lad. Ye could do worse.”
It’s full dark now, and I’m armed with a bow and arrow, and the girls have painted my face for battle. I feel like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. Badass. Must be the Scots blood calling me home. Or it was that wine from dinner. Regardless of my newfound bravado, I’m ready. Well, at least I think I am as we make our way around the side of the castle. The plan is that the girls “take care” of the guards along the wall, and Mac and I make our way into the cell where Angus is being held. There is a guard stationed there as well. He has the key. The plan made perfect sense sitting around the cozy fire, eating warm stew, and drinking wine. Standing outside in the dead of night, surrounded by huge soldiers and little girls . . . the wine, must be wearing off.
Somehow we make it through the castle, down the stairs to the cell. The guard is asleep on a chair, feet crossed at the ankle and hands folded over his belly. Mac spots the keys hanging from his belt and nudges me to look, but all I see are his eyes staring back at me. Angus is chained to the wall, and his face is full of fury. I don’t care. I just want to go to him.
“Stop making eyes at the man and let’s get the keys,” Mac commands.
Now they’re both angry with me.
Before I can stop her, Mac slits the sleeping guard’s throat. I don’t have time to think about what this little girl has been through that she can take a man’s life, but at this moment, all I must do is cut the belt and grab the keys. My hands shaking, I manage the belt, and I try not to look at the pool of quickly pooling blood at my feet. Angus is pulling at the bonds, rattling the chains as I fumble with the keys.
“By the saints, Kat, can ye manage one small task? Ye daft woman.” Mac has lost all patience with me. She tries to push me out of the way but as she does, the lock clicks and the door swings open. I run to Angus, falling to my knees. He’s been beaten recently. His face is still bleeding around his cheek and mouth.
“You’ve no sense, Katherine. What the hell do ye think yer doing here? They’re all out looking for you. You should be far away from this place.”
“Would ye both shut it and get moving!” Mac hisses.
I hear her curse under her breath as I unlock Angus. No sooner do the shackles fall to the ground than we hear footsteps on the stairs. There’s only one way out of the cell, and that’s up those steps. Crouched in the cell, Mac hands Angus a sword and they push me behind them. I try to make a break for the dead guard to grab his sword. I can’t hide behind an injured man and a child. I don’t make it far. The Scots must have scowling in their genes.
As we brace for a fight, four little faces covered in blood and dirt come bounding down the stairs. “Certainly taken yer feckin time, aren’t ye?”
Angus gives me a look but I hush him. “Don’t ask.”
Angus fills us in on our way up the stairs. The seven were to take the MacGregors to the abbey. There they’d be safe. Angus was taken as collateral in exchange for me. I suppose they hadn’t planned on me arriving with a band of young girls.
As we make it to the top of the stairs, it occurs to me that this has been a little too easy. No sooner does the thought come to me than a booming voice like thunder assails us from behind. “I had wondered when you’d get here, Lady Katherine. I see you’ve brought an army.” We turn to face our enemy as they saunter down the hall toward us. Angus stiffens next to me and curses. “Daegus. Weary of kissing the Archbishop’s ass, have ye?”
If Daegus Murray wasn’t the enemy, I would have to acknowledge that he is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. Even in the dark, I see his cruel, smiling eyes and perfect teeth gleaming in the moonlight. But, since he is the enemy, I don’t notice any of these things. “Lass, are ye smiling at Daegus or have I been locked in that cell too long?”
Oops. Was I? Certainly not.
About a dozen Murray soldiers surround our motley crew and all I can hear is Mac laughing. Daegus and his men close in around us and she stops laughing, tears streaming down her face cutting a path through the dirt and blood. She looks like a fierce angel. As she raised her sword at Daegus and smiles, I must amend my description of her to crazy angel, certifiable.
“Do ye yield, ye Murray bastard?”
>
Yes. Certifiable.
Daegus’s men move forward to protect their lord, but he motions for them to stop. His smile is genuinely amused. He crosses his arms and addresses the delusional angel, “So little one, to whom should I yield?”
As the rest of his men relax and lower their swords, a sound like thunder shakes the ground and we all turn toward the gate. I hear Daegus swear and Mac replies, “I asked ye Murray, do ye yield?”
I’m grabbed from behind and before I know it, a knife is pressed to my neck.
“I do not yield. We will pass through that gate unharmed and nobody will follow. I’ll just keep Lady Katherine for security. You owe me a life for my uncle.”
As Daegus delivers his ultimatum, I can barely breathe. I know Angus won’t let me come to harm, but if Daegus makes it past the border, I’m dead. I just stare at Angus and pray he has a plan.
“Yer not leaving here. Ye can have her.”
Well, not the plan I expected. As I start to swear at him, I catch Mac look over my shoulder. Then she looks back at me and smiles. That little girls scares the hell out of me. The knife presses into my throat as Daegus pulls me back against him. I feel a sting and realize he’s cut me. The warm blood trails down my neck to my breast and he kisses my cheek. He and his men are surrounded by the guard and an army of men from the games. Connor must have rallied the troops. As I wonder how he knew to come, I see long blond curls and big blue eyes peek out from behind him on his horse. Mac did have a good plan. If I don’t die, she’s a genius.
“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously, Angus. I have no qualms about killing your lovely whore. Right here. This ends now. Let us pass.”
I’m starting to worry. The knife is pressed harder into my neck and I know if I live, I’m going to have a scar. As quickly as the thought comes to mind, several things happen once. The sound of an arrow whizzing, and I’m struck from behind by something. Pain explodes through me. Angus’s face turns white under his bruises. I look down and see that the arrow passed into Daegus’s shoulder through mine.
Highland Wish Page 12