Heart of the Highlander

by Robbins, Kate

  “What are you saying, Rorie?”

  “I intend to retaliate against your brother for the broken betrothal.”

  “No!”

  “It must be done, Muren, or else this will never end. I know this is not what you wanted to hear, but there is no other way. We cannot wait for them to remove any opportunity from us regarding resolving this mess. And a huge mess it is. Several chiefs have already received decrees from the king, just northwest of Stirling, stating that their properties and tenants now fall under his jurisdiction.”

  “How can he do that?”

  “He is king, and figures he can do whatever he wants. You of all people should know that. He will use anyone and anything to advance his own purpose, and the time has come to put an end to it. We must fight back.”

  Muren’s head hurt trying to keep it all straight. She was angry with Ronan for involving her in such a scheme, and she was angry at the king for his arrogance and tyranny. But she could not regret the opportunity the circumstances had afforded her. Without these events, she would have never gotten to know herself. And for that one thing, she had to be grateful.

  * * *

  Rorie watched the expressions on Muren’s face change from anger to acceptance. She drew a deep breath and placed her hands on her hips.

  “And exactly what am I supposed to do whilst you are off warring with half of Scotland?”

  “You will remain here with your mother, under guard. The MacLeods will protect the sea to the west in the event MacDonald decides to side with the king.” Rorie pointed to the place on the map where the sea narrowed between the mainland and Skye. “MacLeod will lay in wait just here, and if MacDonald tries to sail through the narrows, he will be stopped.”

  “But I thought MacDonald was sympathetic to the Highlanders’ plight against the king. Did not his father endure imprisonment for his plots to overthrow the king?”

  “Aye, that was the father. The son wants peace and assumes that taking a wife who is a relative of the queen is one way to do that. The other way is to stay away from clan battles, and especially those with the king.”

  Rorie was impressed that Muren understood the complexities of the situation. He wished there was something he could offer by way of assurance for her brother’s safety, but the base of the matter was that anyone who would threaten them must be stopped. There truly was no other way.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  “When do you leave?”

  “On the morrow.”

  She had one night to have him to herself, and then heaven only knew when she would see him again. Muren lowered her head. “Will we ever find peace?”

  Rorie walked toward her and gently lifted her chin with his finger. “Muren, I will make this right. You will have nothing to fear once this deed is done.”

  “Will you try to protect my brother from coming to harm?”

  He dropped his hand and took a deep breath. “I cannot promise that, but I will say that I do not intend to bring harm to him, rather stop him from coming after you.”

  Muren could accept that, but she was also aware that a battle would have to occur in order to stop Ronan. Wasn’t that the way of men? Rather than talk it out, they drew their swords. And while Rorie had tried other measures first—and she was grateful for that—in the end, in his view, violence was the only way. But there must be another solution.

  She looked at the map again. Even in the best-case scenario, men would lose their lives in this mess. Husbands, fathers, brothers, would be ripped from their families for someone else’s cause. The whole lot of it made no logical sense to her. Why did some men covet that which was not theirs? She had no answer for it. But she would not accept Rorie’s plan as the only solution either. She would find a way to get through to her brother and make him stand down. At this point, he did not even know they were married. Mayhap, if she could communicate with him, he would not seek retaliation.

  Muren returned to her chamber while Rorie went to make preparations to leave. Her mother knocked on the door a time later and came to sit with her by the hearth.

  “Do you know what passes?”

  “Aye. Rorie told me that they are amassing the army and plan to intercept the king near Loch Ness to increase their chances.”

  “Why do they not just wait it out here?”

  “Because, while this is a great place for a siege, it is not tactically advantageous to withstand a battle. Rorie does not have a clear sense of numbers, nor what weapons the king plans to bring with him.”

  “And yet he rides into battle alone?”

  “No, he has called on other clans to aid.”

  “And what about Ronan?”

  “Rorie plans to use Ross’s men to keep Ronan from joining forces with the king.”

  Her mother shook her head. “Will he battle Ronan?”

  “I do not know. I have asked him not to allow Ronan to come to harm, but he said he could not guarantee.”

  “Then we must warn Ronan.”

  “I cannot do that, Mother. I cannot undermine my husband when I know what he is saying is true. But I cannot sit here and do nothing either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I need to speak with Ronan. I need to tell him Rorie and I are now married, and he needs to make peace with that.”

  “Muren, you know your brother. You know he will not go back on his word so easily. He’s made an agreement with the king. He would not put his clansmen in danger any more than Rorie would his.”

  Her mother’s words resonated with her, but Muren was convinced she could get through to Ronan if she could only speak with him alone. But that would involve travelling to Dunrobin, and Rorie would never allow it.

  Yet Rorie would be gone on the morrow, and if she left the day after that, she could make it to Dunrobin long before Rorie and his men were finished with the king. She swallowed a large knot in her throat. If he won.

  “What are you planning to do?” her mother asked.

  “I will go see Ronan. ’Tis the only way, but you must say nothing to Rorie. He will not support it, but he will be gone tomorrow, and I will leave the day after that.”

  “You will not go alone.”

  “Aye, it will be easier for me to be undetected if I ride alone.”

  “No. I will go with you.”

  “Mother, you are safer here.”

  “I do not care. I will not see either of my children harmed. I am coming with you, and there’s nothing you can say to stop me.”

  Muren had to admit she did feel safer knowing her mother would accompany her.

  A slow, dull ache began at the back of her neck. Not now, please not now. Muren stood, and as soon as she did, pain shot to her head and intensified with each passing second. She doubled over and vomited on the floor.

  Her mother rushed to her and guided her to the bed. “Sit on the bed, Muren. I will get cool cloths and draw the curtains.”

  Muren could barely make out what her mother said. The room spun, and her guts heaved again. Her stomach contents landed on the floor beside the bed, and darkness reached out to her. Muren fought to remain conscious, but the blackness rushed at her too fast this time. Once more, her stomach heaved and vomit spewed from her lips onto the edge of her gown and the floor.

  Please, please no. This was the most intense she had ever experienced the headache in her life. She feared she could not hold on much longer while waiting for her mother to return. She peeked through her shut eyes, but the light from the window made her head hurt all the more. Muren gasped as the pain made her skull feel like it had split in two. She had no choice but to lay back on the bed while the room spun around her and her stomach threatened to heave again. The door opened with a crack, and her mother’s footfalls sounded like loud claps of thunder.

  “I’m here, love,” her mother said.

  Muren shook her head to tell her not to speak. The claws of the black edged closer to her. She sobbed, and the last thought she had before she was envel
oped entirely was of an unborn child growing in her womb.

  Muren opened her eyes to see a familiar cave, with the old woman beckoning her forward.

  “Come and see,” the crone said.

  “I do not wish to see,” Muren said.

  “But you must. Time is running out. You must come with me.”

  Muren followed the crone to the pool. How many times had she had this dream? She didn’t know. But for some reason, she was not as scared as she had been in the past. Something drove her in a different way this time.

  Once they reached the pool, Muren knelt to the side and peered in. The crone stood to the side and touched the water with her walking stick so that a ripple crossed the flat surface. Muren waited. She’d done this before but had been frightened when the images came.

  A smoky hue filled the pool. Before long, images flashed one by one, and she tried to process their meaning. Once again, she saw Rorie being pierced with a sword and falling to his knees. She kept watching, hoping he would get up, but instead he fell over. She then saw a man wearing a lion and unicorn on the crest of his breastplate. He was atop his horse and in a great battle. In the next image, he was lying in his bed as men broke into his chamber and stabbed him where he slept.

  The next image was that of herself. Muren closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see her own demise. It was too much.

  “Open your eyes, child,” the crone said. “You must bear witness.”

  Muren opened her eyes and the cloudy image cleared. She saw herself holding a small bairn swaddled in a warm blanket. Tears streamed down her face in the image. Muren could not tell if the tears were from joy or sorrow, but the sight made her tremble. Was the bairn hers or someone else’s? Did it live or was it stillborn? It was all too much. Muren tried to turn away, but the crone turned her head back again.

  “You must bear witness. There is no time left.”

  One more image emerged. In it, Muren saw her brother. He was lying on a pallet, unmoving, with his wife, Freya, holding his hand and weeping. No! She could not allow this to happen. Her resolve increased tenfold to get to her brother and make peace with him.

  She simply must be able to affect change.

  “I can change these events,” she said to the crone. When she looked up, the crone was nowhere to be found.

  Muren looked back to the pool, but it had returned to a flat surface with no further images for her to see. She got to her feet and returned to the standing stone. As soon as she touched the stone, warmth spread through her, completely surrounding her and washing all the darkness away. Muren opened her eyes to find herself in her bedchamber. Her mother was at her side, and Rorie stood at the edge of the bed, wearing a terrified expression.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rorie watched her eyes flutter and open. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He couldn’t even speak as their gazes locked. The stench of vomit still hung in the air, and her face was deathly pale. He was certain he’d lost her this time. Her mother had called for him with such a panic that he’d left the armoury and run all the way to their chamber. When he got there, she was unconscious and her breathing so shallow there were moments he was not convinced she still lived.

  “Muren love, how do you feel?” her mother asked.

  Muren sat up and looked around her as if she couldn’t figure out where she was.

  When she made to get up, Rorie came around the side of the bed and held her hands. “Why don’t you rest, Muren? You’ve been very ill.”

  She looked past him to the window and her brows knit. “How long have I been out?”

  “Two days,” her mother said.

  “What?” She then turned to Rorie. “But you were supposed to leave yesterday. Rorie, you wanted to intercept the king. Why did you not go?”

  Rorie could hardly speak. They had even had the priest come and sit with her for a while. Now she sat up in bed as though nothing had happened.

  “Muren,” her mother said. “You’ve been so sick this time.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “Is the pain gone in your head?”

  She stood up and only stumbled a little, and then leaned on Rorie. “Aye, I feel perfectly fine. How could I have been asleep for two days?”

  “I had Ada come see you, too, and she was convinced you would wake. We took turns waving the rosemary she left under your nose. She also waved burnt sage in the corners.”

  “For evil spirits? Surely she did not suspect dark magic to be a cause.”

  “No, but we were so fearful about what was going on with you that we tried everything.”

  Muren turned to him and smiled. “Rorie, I am truly better. I feel better than I have in a very long time.”

  “What do you mean?” her mother asked.

  “My headaches never ever went away completely. There was always a hint of it, but now I don’t feel it at all. I almost feel like I’m floating,” she said and laughed.

  Rorie lifted her over to a chair by the fire and helped her sit.

  “Stay here with her,” her mother said, as she went to the door. “I’ll get the cook to bring some broth, and I’ll send the maids to change the bedding and clean the floors.”

  Rorie sat across from Muren and held her hands. He studied the lines of her face, and his heart soared when she smiled at him. “I love you so much, Muren. I really thought I had lost you.”

  “I love you, too, Rorie.”

  “I don’t want to go now.”

  “I cannot tell you what’s right, Rorie. But I can say that I do not think challenging the king in battle is the answer.”

  “No, but battle will be on our doorstep if I do not.”

  “I know you think that. But maybe there’s another way.”

  “There is not, I assure you. I have thought this through at every angle, and we are sitting ducks here. We must ride out to head him off. The more ground he covers, the less likely we will be able to have a tactical advantage, and we must have that.”

  “Have you heard back from the other clans?”

  “Aye, all are on side.”

  “And Ross? Will they battle my brother to keep him in Sutherland?”

  “Aye.”

  He hated the look of sadness that crossed her face. It was not an ideal situation by any stretch. While he’d sat with her over the last two days, he’d spent much time contemplating his options. He truly did not have another choice. Now that she was well, he would continue his plans to leave at daybreak. Tonight, he would hold her close.

  * * *

  Muren’s mother returned with a bowl of broth and crusty bread. As soon as the scent hit her nose, her belly rumbled. She pretty much inhaled the soup and bread and then reached for the pitcher of ale. It was not normally a drink she preferred, but for some reason, she was thirsty for the barley-flavour.

  Looking down into the goblet, she saw her reflection and paused midway to drinking. The flash of her dream returned to her, making the goblet fall from her hand and clatter to the stone floor. The cold fluid soaked her night shift as her mother and Rorie fussed over her while the full impact of what she’d seen washed over her.

  “Rorie, you cannot go.”

  He stood and looked at her with a shocked expression. Her mother stood, too. “Muren, what is it?”

  “I dreamed. Full dreams this time, and I think it was images of what is to come.”

  Rorie shook his head and put a finger to his mouth. “Muren, you cannot be overheard saying such things.”

  “I do not care who hears me. I saw you getting hurt, and I cannot let you go.”

  Her mother drew her into the side chamber and lifted her wet shift off her, then helped her into another. They returned to the chair, and Morag placed a blanket over her legs and another around her shoulders.

  “Muren,” she said. “Rorie is right. Do you not remember what I told you about your grandmother?”

  “Aye, I do. But if it is true, then what I saw in my dream will come to pass, and I cannot let the man I love go to h
is death when I can prevent it.”

  “Tell me what you saw,” her mother said.

  “I do not want to hear this,” Rorie said. “You were ill, and you had a dream. Considering everything that has gone on in the last month, it is only logical that you have troubled dreams brought on by stress, which is also why your headache was so severe this time. I will call for Ada to bring more rosemary, and you will speak of your dreams to no one.”

  Muren did not like his tone, and she did not like him dictating to her what she could and could not do. He knelt before her and took her hand.

  “Don’t you see, love. I only want to protect you. People will not understand if you tell them you’re a seer.”

  “Do you not believe me?”

  “It does not matter if I believe you or not. You place yourself in more danger if you reveal what was in your dreams.”

  “I know now that they are not dreams,” she said.

  “Muren, you must promise me to speak of it to no one.”

  “I cannot do that.”

  Rorie stood and raked his hands through his hair. “I cannot protect you if you do not let me.”

  “Don’t you see?” she asked. “ ’Tis that I want to protect you.”

  “I cannot risk the lives of everyone here and allow the king to attack us here because you had a dream.”

  His words cut through her. Never in her life had she been so thoroughly dismissed. And coming from him, it was even more painful. “Then go,” she said and turned her head toward the fire.

  Rorie leaned his face down to her and kissed her cheek. She pulled away.

  “You can dislike my decision, Muren, but it stands. You are staying here, and I am leaving on the morrow.”

  With that, he left her chamber and slammed the door.

  Turning to her mother, she asked, “Do you believe me?”

  “Aye, and that’s why I agree with Rorie. You cannot tell anyone outside this room what you saw. Do you understand how important that is?”