by Donna Grant
The music Glenna had heard began again as the woman departed. Every fiber of her body urged her to speak to the woman and propelled her feet forward. It was then she realized it was the woman from her vision.
She managed to reach the bailey before Conall stopped her. “Where are you going?”
“Who was that?” she asked, and looked around his broad shoulders for another look at the woman.
“No one.”
The music dimmed until there were only the voices of the people around her.
“Please,” she begged as she looked at him. “Who was that?”
His jaw clenched in agitation. “Her name is Moira.”
“Is she your wife?”
“Saints no,” he spat, and turned his head to look at where Moira had been. He looked back to her, and said, “I don’t have a wife.”
She had seen him have such hatred in his eyes only once before, and that was for the MacNeil. Whoever that woman was, he despised her. But why?
When he turned on his heel and stalked away she didn’t stop him. She needed to be alone and the battlements would offer some privacy. She made her way back up the stairs by the wall and tried not to notice how people avoided her like some plague.
It had been the same at MacNeil Castle, but there they had a reason to treat her like that. She reached the top and nodded to a soldier as she walked to a secluded spot where she could look over the landscape.
The loch was still as stone, not a ripple in the water, and to her left, nothing but beautiful, rolling grassland. In the distance, but not too far away, the mountains rose up and showed their snow-covered peaks, some mist-shrouded.
If there was a more peaceful, stunning place in which to live, she had never seen it. And it probably could be her home if only she wasn’t who she was and there wasn’t Iona.
Before Iona had left MacNeil Castle she had given Glenna a warning. “There will come a day when you’ll need to confess all. It will seem the darkest of days but a light shines through the clouds.”
Iona had always talked in riddles, never answering directly. Glenna still had no idea what she was referring to unless it was to tell Conall what she knew of Iona and…everything else.
“It’s very lovely to look upon,” Gregor said as he came to stand beside her.
She looked over and was surprised he wasn’t wearing his usual leather vest but a saffron shirt instead. “Aye.”
“Do you know how long I stayed at the MacNeil’s?”
She was surprised he had come out and asked her so quickly. “Nay, but that doesn’t surprise me. I knew very little of what went on there.”
“You were hidden away.”
“Aye,” she said, and looked away from his dark, probing eyes. “I’m not sure why the MacNeil was ashamed of me. I’ve never done anything to him.”
“Does Conall know how the MacNeil used you?”
Her head whipped around to look at him. “What are you talking about?”
“I was there that day MacNeil wanted to show you the Mackenzies.”
She felt the blood leave her face as she recalled that day well. She had rejoiced to learn she would leave the castle for the first time, but that had quickly turned to fear when she had been taken to battle. “I…I…”
“Did MacNeil never tell you that you did it?”
She closed her eyes and heard the Mackenzie clan screaming while their homes burned around them. “I didn’t do that.”
“Why else do you think MacNeil wanted you by his side?”
“He said he wanted to show me the cruelty of other clans,” she said, and opened her eyes to stare into his black ones. “Just how do you know so much about my clan?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I listen. Fathers want to protect their children from the harshness of war, not bring them to the fight.”
She had thought the same thing, but when she had asked MacNeil he had become so angry she hadn’t pressed further. “The Mackenzies had taken a boy from our clan and hung him. They left him for the world to see.”
“That was a Mackenzie lad. And your clan hung him.”
Her knees threatened to buckle. The enormity of what she had done weighed heavily on her heart. She still saw the desolation in her dreams. Nothing she could say or do would forgive her for the destruction of the Mackenzies.
“To have the ability to control fire is a great gift,” Gregor continued, his eyes intent upon her.
“But I can’t control it.”
“Why do you think Iona was sent to you?”
That thought had never occurred to her, but now that she thought of it, Iona had asked her many questions about fire. “She wasn’t able to teach me everything.”
He ran his hand through his blond hair. “You’ve learned just enough to be dangerous. MacNeil didn’t want you knowing too much. You were a pawn to be used.”
Nay, her mind screamed. She knew her father had done horrific things, but surely he wouldn’t have used her like that. She narrowed her eyes and took a step closer to him.
“How long where you at the MacNeil’s?”
“Too long,” he murmured, and quickly lowered his eyes. When he raised his gaze, the shields to guard his feelings were back in place. “MacNeil doesn’t know I’m here. Not yet anyway.”
“What are you proposing?”
“I can get you out of here. Conall trusts me.”
“I didn’t figure on you being loyal to the MacNeil.”
“I’m loyal to only one person, Glenna. Me. Don’t fool yourself into thinking I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart,” he said, his face dark and menacing.
She looked deep into his black eyes and saw kindness there. A thick stone wall hid it, but it was there. What ever had happened to him had scarred him terribly.
“I’m not leaving,” she finally answered. “Whatever haunts you won’t go away with the MacNeil’s help.”
Gregor’s mouth held the barest hint of a grin. “Are you trying to warn me?”
“Aye.”
“Do you think I’m afraid you’ll tell Conall what I’ve offered?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
His face became as serious as death. “As long as MacNeil doesn’t come after this clan. If he does all the angels and saints in Heaven couldn’t help you.”
She watched him stride away and knew what he said was true. His offer hadn’t been to take her back to MacNeil. It had been to simply get her out of here because he knew, like she did, that if she stayed and MacNeil came there’d be nothing left of the MacInnes clan.
Her eyes found Conall who stood head and shoulders above other men. His thick, raven hair was held back at the nape of his neck by a leather thong, and she found herself wondering just how long it was.
She couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t leave.
No matter what lengths she had to take to stay out of MacNeil’s sight, she would do it. Leaving this castle, this land…Conall just wasn’t something she could do.
Not when the answers Iona had promised were so very close.
* * * * *
Moira walked into the stone circle and motioned to Frang. “It isn’t going to be easy to gain access to Glenna,” she told him once he reached her.
“What happened?”
“Conall refused me entry and refused to let me talk to Glenna. He wouldn’t even let her near me.”
Frang nodded and walked to the bowl of sacred water that rested atop one of their smaller stones. He gazed deep within it and swirled the water with his finger. Several moments later he raised his head and sighed.
“Conall’s hatred for us has intensified. He won’t open his heart to the truth.”
“What are we to do?”
“Only time will tell. We’ll carry out our tasks and pray Glenna has enough fortitude to break through Conall’s barriers.”
* * * * *
Conall cursed long and low. Just what were Gregor and Glenna discussing? He told himself it was out of fear for her safety,
but for whatever reason, he couldn’t go but a few moments without seeing her with his own eyes.
When he had spotted her atop the battlements with Gregor, suspicion and envy ran rampant through him. He was no fool. The women around the castle had fallen all over themselves to gain Gregor’s attention. What made Glenna any different?
But their conversation had been heated. Even from a distance he had been able to see both had gotten angry at some point. And it made him wonder if he could trust Gregor as much as he had first thought.
Which brought another thought. Gregor had said he was at the MacNeil’s on business. But just how long had he been there? Gregor could very well know something of Iona and he hadn’t asked.
Something he would have to remedy soon. Like now, he thought when he caught sight of Gregor striding into the stables.
Chapter Seven
The smell of horse and hay, a favorite of Conall’s, greeted him when he walked into the stable. His horse stuck his big black head over the stall door and blew loudly.
He rubbed the black’s soft nose and watched as Gregor saddled his horse. “Going somewhere?”
There was just the smallest hesitation of his movements at hearing Conall’s voice.
“Just to rid myself of some energy. Want to join me?”
“Aye, I think I will.” Conall opened the stall door and quickly saddled his mount. After a glance at Gregor, he swung himself up on his horse. “The exercises I put my men through must not be enough for you.”
Gregor slanted him an annoyed look before he mounted and kicked his horse into a run. Conall smiled and clicked to his mount. They thundered into the bailey, through the gatehouse and out of the gates, the ground blurring beneath the horse’s hoofs.
They raced until the horses’ sides heaved and sweat glistened their coats. Conall pulled up when they reached the stream. He waited until Gregor turned his horse around and trotted back to him.
“What do you wish to talk about?” Gregor asked as he slid from his horse to let it drink and rest.
“You come right to the point.”
“There’s no sense skirting the issue.”
Conall had to agree. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t prevent his respect for Gregor building. “What were you talking to Glenna about on the battlements?”
Gregor turned and looked him in the eye. “I asked her if she wanted me to take her away.”
“Why?” he asked through clenched teeth. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm. “I’m not mistreating her.”
“Nay? There’s much you don’t know about Glenna. You’re hurting her, and you don’t even know it. You tease her with a life that she should have only to give her back to MacNeil. That is beyond cruel.”
Conall advanced on him. He grabbed Gregor’s shirt and fisted it in his hands. Anger boiled just beneath his surface and he jerked Gregor against a tree. “What do you know that I don’t? What are you keeping from me?”
“We both know the monster that MacNeil is,” Gregor said, his voice cool, but his eyes heated with fire at having Conall’s hands on him. “Even if Glenna doesn’t admit it yet, she doesn’t deserve to be sent back to him.”
Conall loosened his hold and stepped back. “Are you in love with her?”
Gregor barked with laughter and smoothed his shirt. “There’s no such thing as love, Conall.”
“If you don’t love her, then why would you want to help her?”
“She’s seen too much pain. Everyone deserves a little happiness in their life.”
Pain flickered in Gregor’s eyes, and Conall knew when a man had secrets he wanted kept hidden. He didn’t press Gregor on that front. “What do you know of Iona?”
He needed to know the answer before it killed him.
Gregor let out a long sigh and sat. “I was there when she was brought to the MacNeil holding. I could tell she’d been taken from her home.”
“Was she hurt?”
“Bruised a bit but nothing fatal. I asked her many times where she’d been taken from, but she declined to tell me.”
“What do you mean?” Conall sat when he legs refused to hold him. He couldn’t understand why Iona wouldn’t have sought help in returning home. “Why wouldn’t she tell you she was a MacInnes?”
Gregor shrugged. “She’d been stripped of her plaid. All she’d tell me was that she was there to fulfill her destiny.”
Conall didn’t think he could stand to have another person tell him it had been Iona’s destiny. He squeezed his eyes closed and dropped his head into his hands. “What did they have her doing?”
“She was taken to teach the Druid ways. Can you not think of someone who needed the teaching?”
Conall raised his eyes as everything fell into place. “Glenna.”
“But the MacNeil wouldn’t allow Iona to finish her teaching. He stopped it very soon and spent the rest of the time trying to gain information about your clan.”
“Is she still alive?”
Gregor looked at his hands. “That I cannot answer, for I don’t know.”
Conall had seen the grief flash in Gregor’s eyes. He reached out with his powers and probed Gregor’s mind. Usually he didn’t need to focus this hard to gain the information he needed, but Gregor had closed himself off to everyone and it made it more difficult.
Finally Conall broke through and found that Gregor had told him the truth. The effort had cost him though as his head began to pound fiercely.
But if Gregor couldn’t tell him what happened to Iona maybe Glenna could.
* * * * *
Glenna watched from the battlements as Conall and Gregor raced from the castle. She longed to go with them, but the thought of climbing back on a horse stopped that idea quickly enough.
Her life here, for however long that might be, was much improved. Even though some of the clan had threatened her life at least she had been noticed. At her home even the servants barely spared her a glance. Fear and hatred were brethren in her clan.
She had always been ignored, and then later feared, it seemed. No one would talk to her, not even when she would seek them out. It had gotten so unpleasant that she had taken to eating her meals in her chamber after she had retrieved the food from the kitchens herself because the maid was afraid of her.
Why everyone had been anxious she hadn’t known. Until today. Just knowing she had killed innocent people twisted her stomach into thousands of painful knots. To everyone in her clan she was a murderer just like MacNeil.
And they were right.
Her eyes closed tight at that thought. She spun on her heel and walked swiftly down the stairs to the bailey. Her chamber would offer her solace and allow her to gather her thoughts.
A monster is what Conall’s clan had called her. Here she had thought to make a new start once she found her answers, but that didn’t look to be the case. The clan didn’t ignore her, but the hatred was worse.
She had thought God had punished her by setting the barn on fire when she had become angry with her father. The little boy who had been badly burned had haunted her since, but now…that sin was nothing compared to what she had done to the Mackenzies.
The only brightness in all this gloom was Conall. It disturbed her to realize just how much she trusted him and how easily that trust had come. She had learned long ago to never trust anyone until she had met Iona. Yet it had never been a question with Conall.
Had Iona known it would be Conall who would come for Glenna? Had she known Conall would have such an effect on her? Had she known Conall would turn her thinking and her world upside down? Somehow she knew the answer to those questions was a resounding “aye”.
Iona had changed many things in Glenna’s life. She had looked forward to meeting the man who would free her. That man was Conall. He was everything MacNeil wasn’t and more. He was a good, honest man who didn’t deserve what MacNeil had done to his clan. He didn’t deserve what she had brought with her, either.
The castle doo
r was but a few paces from her when something knocked into her shoulder and nearly sent her to the ground. She raised her eyes to find the woman from the night before.
“I told ye I’d find ye alone,” the woman cackled.
A shiver of apprehension crawled down Glenna’s spine. With her mind screaming for her to run, she took a step back and spun around. The sound of the woman’s laughter faded as her feet raced away.
She made her way to the gatehouse and was slightly surprised when the guards didn’t question her as she walked out the gates. She walked down the rocky slope and glanced back at the intimidating castle to see if anyone followed her. It appeared no one even cared. It had always been thus, why should it bother her now?
If she wished, she could leave and never look back. But that isn’t what she wanted. She wanted to venture on her own, to see what she could find, to see what this land would offer up to her, to see if there really was magic, and if it would show itself to her.
The cluster of trees ahead held her attention, and the hauntingly beautiful music reached her ears once again. It came from the forest, she was sure of it, and she hurriedly made her way to it. She entered the woods and the music grew louder. Her breath quickened in excitement at the thought of finding where the music came from. Her feet took her near giant oaks and tall pines that had been around for centuries. Birds and butterflies flew around her as if she were one of them, their chirping mingling with the music. Through the canopy of trees she spotted a falcon soaring overhead, his cries echoing around her.
She reached a small clearing with an array of wildflowers blooming in the spring air. She would have been content to sit there all day and soak up the beauty. A twig snapped. Her head jerked toward the sound and her mouth fell open in awe.
Before her stood a massive stone circle, the kind Iona had described to her. The stones had to be at least twelve feet tall and three feet wide, and from where she stood she couldn’t guess how many there were.
Touch them.
Glenna reached out her hand to touch a stone but was stopped by a voice. “I wondered when you’d finally venture here.”