They crossed the bailey to gain their mounts from the stables. “What does the bastard look like?” Alec kept stride with Searc.
“Tall, brown hair, usually unkempt, and when he sees me,” Searc spoke with rough determination, “he’ll be the one running.”
…
“Without my embroidery I have nothing to keep my hands busy.” Rachel sighed and looked out the window of Elena’s room.
“You embroider?” Elena smiled hopefully at her new mother.
“Yes, I’m working on a tapestry showing Searc’s magic as a blessing, not a curse. I will hang it proudly in our great hall.”
Elena sat before the small fire. “I would like to see it.”
“My hope is that Searc will come home after this is settled. Has he mentioned his plans?” Although asked casually, Rachel’s lips pinched tight, waiting.
“He has only stated his wish to show me Munro land, nothing else. And we both want to discover and stop the murderer in Edinburgh before he returns.”
Rachel shook her head. “He told us about the atrocities. Those poor girls, cut along their skin.” She closed her eyes as if angered. “Madmen walk this earth.”
They sat together, quietly for long minutes, the talk of such crimes heavy on them.
Rachel exhaled long and looked at Elena. Her eyebrows rose. “Do you stitch?”
Yes, they should try to think of pleasant things, though waiting in the room was near torture. Elena forced a relaxed smile. “I spent much time embroidering clothing at Grimsthorpe. I am hoping to continue. I’d like to sew something for Searc.”
Rachel nodded. They looked at each other in silence, Elena twisting her hands together.
Elena sighed. “Waiting is hard.”
“Especially without something to stitch,” Rachel added. They both nodded. “I won’t say it gets easier. Every time Alec goes where there is bound to be trouble I stitch until my fingers ache, yet I still worry.”
“Even with your…” Elena hesitated, “healing abilities?”
Rachel’s face seemed to droop. “My magic is useless if they are already dead. ’Twas the way I lost my first two sons. They died in battle far from me.”
“I’m so sorry.” Elena looked at her hands in her lap. “I too have had loss, though not of a child.” She glanced up at Rachel, who had a wet shine to her eyes and a sad smile on her lips. Blast it, ill topics seemed to hover in their minds.
“God willing, you never will.”
Rachel told her about the Highlands. It was clear from her descriptions of soaring mountains and open, fresh air that she’d adapted well to the rugged land. Though Rachel too had been raised in England, she had ended up in western Scotland, and was truly happy there. “’Tis bitter cold in winter, but you learn to stay warm.” She smiled encouragingly. “I can teach you herbal medicines.”
“I do know some.” A giddy bubble formed in Elena’s middle. Maybe she truly could be useful. “I helped tend the sick at Grimsthorpe, the servants and laborers.”
Rachel nodded with approval. So far the woman seemed eager to like her despite her quick marriage to her son. Perhaps back in the Highlands, life would be good and maybe someday Searc would grow to love her. Just the thought sprouted more little bubbles of hope.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Could they be back so soon?” Rachel rose as rapid tapping ensued. She pulled open the door and Elena joined her. Madeline stood there, her hands moving with her rapid French.
Rachel shook her head. “My French is minimal.”
Elena asked the maid to speak calmly. She knew Madeline could speak some English, but the woman seemed overwrought. “She says that she received word that there has been an accident. A child, a young brother to a girl she’s befriended in the village, ran in the way of a galloping horse and is unconscious. She was told about your talents.”
Madeline rattled on, her eyes imploring while Elena translated. “She begs you to come help, Joseph, the boy.”
“Of course.” Rachel ran for her cloak.
“It is outside the castle gates. It is not safe to leave,” Elena cautioned.
Rachel shook her head. “When there is a child in jeopardy, I have no choice.”
“But you know nothing of Edinburgh,” Elena followed her toward the door. “You could become lost, end up in a rough part of the town.” She clearly remembered the dark looks and unkempt cottages when Lyngfield had convinced a guard to help him.
Rachel placed her hand on Elena’s shoulder. “When you have a child, you will understand. I’ve lost two of my own. Every child I save makes my pain a little less.”
The strength in Rachel’s eyes told Elena that she wouldn’t be able to sway the woman toward caution. “I will come too.” Elena turned for her cloak.
“You should stay here and lock the door until Searc or I return.”
“I won’t let you go alone.” Elena’s voice was just as strong as Rachel’s. She turned to Marie’s lady and spoke in French. “Where is this child?”
“Between Grassmarket and Candlemaker Row.” Tears sat heavy in Madeline’s eyes. “I was told.”
“Who sent you?” Elena glanced at Rachel. Was she just being paranoid?
“A man.” The maid shook her head. “He heard from the priest at Holyrood that a magical healer was up here at the castle. He told Joseph’s father who told him I worked here and would know Madam Munro.”
Elena cringed inside. “Father Renard is telling people that a magical healer is here.”
Rachel snorted. “I’m surprised that is what he is calling me. Though from the stain on the girl’s cheeks, he may have used other words.”
“I don’t like this,” Elena insisted. “It could be a trap. Perhaps Father Renard is trying to catch you healing with magic so he can charge you openly with witchcraft.”
Rachel huffed. “We are wasting time. If this boy is dying, I have to help.”
The woman would not bend, and in a way, Elena could understand. If God had gifted her with power to help and she chose not, was it a sin as terrible as if she’d harmed the boy herself? Elena sighed and turned to find her cloak. “Very well, but you aren’t going without me.”
“Dépêchez,” Madeline insisted and waved them to follow quickly.
Remembering Searc’s call to arms the last time she’d vanished, she hurried back to the table where several small scraps of parchment sat stacked by an inkwell and quill.
Rachel was called to attend an injured boy at a cottage between Grassmarket and Candlemaker Row. Father Renard is spreading the word that your mother is at the castle and can heal with magic. Madeline is taking us to the boy. This is all I know.
Elena
She left the note drying on the table and followed the two out the door. If Searc and his father returned soon they could catch up with them. They had already been gone for several hours and the sun had started its downward path. Shadows from the walls in the bailey stretched across the cobblestone as she and Rachel followed Madeline to a side gate guarded by one man in castle livery.
“We will be at a house between Grassmarket and Candlemaker Row, helping an injured child,” Elena told him. “Let Lord Munro and his father know as soon as they return.”
“Aye, milady.”
Rachel, Madeline, and Elena moved through the stout wall into the street that ran alongside the castle to meet up with the main thoroughfare winding down to Holyrood Palace and Abbey. Wagons rolled and livestock rambled slowly through the bustling streets as vendors hawked their wares at the end of their day before returning home. The smell of sheep mixed with stale ale and smoke from the smithy down the road. The hammer clanged over the call of an elderly woman with her cart of sweet cakes.
“Fresh from my ovens this morn! Take them home for yer sweetheart tonight.” She smiled at Elena and nodded, remembering her. Elena wished she had the time and the coin to buy from the woman, but she had neither. She smiled with a wave though as she hurried on.
&n
bsp; “This way,” Madeline called over her shoulder in French.
Rachel linked arms with Elena. “’Tis best to stay close.” Elena heartedly agreed. The press of people made it difficult to keep up with Madeline.
“Lord, let us get there in time.” Rachel nearly trotted to speed their pace. The Highlands apparently kept her quite spry.
Madeline paused to examine the narrow roads angling off. She pointed down an alleyway that ducked off from a cobbler’s shop. They hurried on. “It should be the second of these three.” Madeline pointed to the door covered by dilapidated gables. Rachel ran to the door, her hand at the latch while the other pounded.
“It is Lady Munro to help your son!”
A flash of movement at the mouth of the alley made Elena turn. A man jogged down toward them. The instant elation that Searc had found them jerked into panic as Elena realized that the man was not Searc at all.
He stopped short, his hands out in front of him. “There now, I’ve found you.”
Elena gasped as she stared into the face of Roger Lyngfield. His smile turned to a frown as he studied the doorway. “Who lives here?” Lyngfield asked.
“An injured child, I’ve been told,” Rachel answered. “Unless you are the one who sent Madeline to find me?”
Roger shrugged. “Not I. I don’t even know who you are.” He glanced behind him as Rachel worked the latch and pounded. “But let’s go inside,” he continued. We need to talk, Elena. Marie de Guise is convinced I’m a traitor with Lord Randolph, when I am not. And you are going to help convince her I am her faithful subject.”
“Leave me be.” Elena twisted away from him just as Rachel and Madeline pushed inside, but he grabbed her wrist.
Elena tried to yank away but Lyngfield held tight. He pressed forward, pushing them both to follow the ladies into the dark, musty room.
“Rachel, Madeline.” Elena managed to wretch her hand free. Lyngfield might be big but there were three of them. “We need to get out of here.” Elena’s gaze flitted quickly about the dim room that didn’t seem to be in use. A lantern stood near a cold hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls, the only sign of recent habitation. She blinked, her eyes adjusting. Rachel sat before a lump, the shape of a child, under the blanket in the bed.
“Hello?” Rachel called without looking behind her. “I have come to help the boy.” She lowered her voice. “Joseph?”
Madeline stood back against the wall, her frantic gaze tossing between the bed and Lyngfield. A chill like a breath of ice slid down Elena’s back, making every muscle in her body tense. This was wrong, so wrong. “Rachel—” She stopped as Searc’s mother uncovered a lump of blankets on the bed. There was no child at all.
Behind her, Lyngfield grunted. Elena whirled, her hand flying to her mouth. Roger Lyngfield crumpled to the floor, a dagger wedged between his shoulder blades.
…
“Not even a piece of cheese remains.” Alec wiped his hand over the empty shelves by Roger Lyngfield’s cold hearth. “Took his clothes and food. I’d say he left Edinburgh after Randolph was arrested.”
Searc stood staring at the chair to which Elena had been tied. If he’d known, if she’d told him, there would be no need to find the bastard now. Bloody hell! The image of her, gagged and bound, haunted him.
“We’ve searched every street of this town.” His da’s footfalls clomped in the small cottage. “If he’s in league with Lord Arran like Randolph then he’s probably gone to wherever that slippery fish is hiding.”
“Aye.” Searc exhaled. “I would rather have him in the dungeon where he can’t talk about Elena.”
Alec’s hand landed on Searc’s shoulder. “The clan will protect her as your wife no matter who comes to Munro land to call her queen or traitor.”
He glanced at his father’s resting hand and then turned to meet his gaze. “You do not know that, Da.”
Alec’s mouth tightened behind his beard. “Aye, I do.” His hand slid from Searc’s shoulder. “After you left…Rachel sent to Druim for Caden and Meg.” Alec leaned against the table and crossed his arms. “I was wrong, son, when I let you leave.”
“Nay.” Searc crossed his own arms. “The magic I have is dark. I can control it, though.”
Alec shook his head. “It is no darker than a sword, Searc.”
“I can kill with a single touch of my hand.”
Alec raised his stubborn chin. “And I can kill with a single slash of my blade.”
“That sounds like something Caden would say,” Searc murmured.
“He made me realize this, aye.” Alec paused, a frown in place as his gaze fell to the floor before rising to meet Searc’s once more. “Young Kincaid has a mark like yours. It follows the crease of his leg.” He indicated the inside of his thigh along his groin. “Meg has been watching him for signs of magic since he was born. Seems he became much more broody a couple years ago, but they just thought he was annoyed at his mother and sisters always fussing around him. But once they heard about you, Caden went to him about your powers.” Alec rubbed his head making his hair stand up. “The lad’s got the same red magic, Searc. He too was thinking it was evil, that he was evil.”
Searc listened without moving, without hardly breathing. Alec sat down in the chair across the table and rested his elbows on it. “The best we can come up with is that it’s the same magic, just different in a man. Dory and Meg think that since women are bent on saving the world and men are bent on sending folks from the world, as they put it, that the magic comes out of you and Kincaid differently. And not every boy must have it. Your brothers had war instincts, but never showed signs of the magic.”
Alec waited, but Searc couldn’t yet speak. Could the curse he thought had been his alone to bear, be just a link to his heritage?
“Meg says that Kincaid seems much less solemn now that he knows he’s not alone. ’Twould do him good to work with you, learn how you deal with it. I suppose you never had help with that.”
His father took a big breath, his chest puffing up. His jaw moved back and forth as if he wrestled with what he wanted to say. “I should have asked Caden before you left.” He stood, the chair scraping the floor. “Hell, I shouldn’t have let you leave. You’re my son. And if you’re devil spawn, it’s only because you came from me.” Alec stretched his arms overhead, resting his palms on a low eave. “As soon as Rachel heard about Kincaid she all but jumped on her horse that night. Truth be told, I would have started right then without her, but with her, I made her wait until morning.”
Searc looked down when he heard the wood crack under his hands and realized that he’d been gripping the chair Elena had been sitting in. “Thank you.” His voice was low. “For coming to tell me.”
Alec cursed. “I didn’t just come to tell you, lad. I’ve come to drag you home. It’s where you belong.”
Searc’s chest ached. His father knew about him, had seen his horrific powers up close, and still wanted him to come back to the clan. A crack of hope cut through him and he nodded, letting his frown relax.
“Let us make plans.” Searc pushed the damned chair over. “If we can’t find Lyngfield, then Lord Hampton can’t either.”
Alec nodded, a smile breaking through his beard. “We will leave tomorrow then.”
“I need to convince Marie that I’ll be more effective supporting her in the west.”
Alec thumped him on the back. “You watch out for that woman. The way she watches you, she’d likely order you to her bed.”
Searc huffed on a dark laugh. “Without Elena to protect me, I’d likely be there.”
Alec raised one brow in question. “That sounds like a tale to be told.”
They left the abandoned cottage and led their horses up through the haphazard veins of short roads back to the main thoroughfare. Searc continued to scan the mill of people as they closed their wares for the upcoming night. Perhaps Lyngfield had abandoned Edinburgh to join Lord Arran’s rebels in the forest. Before the castle gate, Searc
and Alec waited while the portcullis was raised in order for them to bring their horses inside.
Dearg shifted side to side, probably sensing Searc’s impatience. Everything seemed routine, no detectable threat. Just…he frowned. Something felt off. As soon as the points of the portcullis rose higher than Dearg’s head, Searc pressed him forward and into a trot up the winding cobblestone. Searc dismounted at the stables and quickly pulled the saddle from Dearg. Alec had caught up.
“Something amiss?” His da brought his mount into the assigned stall.
“Aye, perhaps.”
“Your mother’s mount is still here.”
Searc nodded but didn’t slow his pace as he jogged out the stable door into the bailey. Henri stood near the great hall with Father Renard. Fury in their stances made them appear to be close to blows. He broke his jog to a walk and Alec caught up to him.
“Yet your monk said that you insisted that he be allowed to question both Madam Munro and Madam Elena.”
“I haven’t seen Peter since this morning and I certainly didn’t ask him to question anyone.”
A flash of lightning accentuated a cracking thunderclap overhead, making two ladies in the courtyard scream and scurry for the great hall. Everyone glanced upward at the pinkening sky in the west. There was no evidence of a storm except for a few dark clouds. Wind gusts surged, partially blocked by walls as another round of lightning and thunder sent most people running for cover. Father Renard and Henri ducked into the great hall.
Alec stopped beside Searc. “Clear skies with sudden lightning. That could be Rachel,” he spoke low. Dory Brody, Rachel’s distant cousin, had taught Searc’s mother to use her magic to alter weather patterns. The two men leapt forward, running toward Searc’s room. Their boots cracked against the stone as more thunder boomed outside. Wind whistled through the window slits lining the gallery and they turned to duck down the hall.
Highland Hearts 03 - Crimson Heart Page 27