Highland Mist

by Donna Grant

Conall bit the inside of his mouth and looked over the edge of the tower to his clan below. People milled around, their faces raised to the tower, waiting to know what happened. “We’ll know more once we get her safely to her chamber.”

  “Something isn’t right, Conall.” Angus scratched his chin, his face lined with worry. “I thought the clan was coming around after they found out MacNeil wasn’t her father.”

  “What?” Gregor asked. “MacNeil isn’t her father?”

  Conall shook his head. “Duncan Sinclair was her father.”

  Gregor whistled through his teeth. “That explains a lot. And changes many things.”

  “You’ll have to explain that later. Right now I don’t want anyone else to know what happened. I especially don’t want the clan to know Glenna is hurt.”

  They nodded in agreement. As gently as he could, Conall picked her up and carried her to her chamber. After he laid her on the bed, he looked up to find Moira standing beside him.

  “I can heal her.”

  He looked at Glenna, her body bruised and scraped and couldn’t stand the thought of her being in pain. He would suffer through a Druid helping her if it meant she would heal. He nodded and began to wash the blood from the scrapes along her arms and face.

  Glenna had put up quite a fight, and he was going to make sure the bastard paid for hurting her. Moira caught his attention. He watched as she prepared her herbs. “How did you know?”

  She stilled. “I heard the scream and knew it was Glenna.” After a few moments she went back to her preparations. “I’m surprised you’re allowing me to help.”

  “I’m only doing it for Glenna.”

  Moira looked at him over her shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing.”

  But Conall didn’t want to think on that. His mind centered on Glenna and her twitch of pain as Moira spread a cream on her cuts. He stopped her when she brought Glenna a cup of liquid to drink. There would be nothing that passed her lips that would alter who she was.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s to help with the bruises. I’ve no need of enchantments. Druid blood flows in her veins and no amount of turning will sway her. More powerful beings than me have set Glenna on her course.”

  He waited for his ability to tell him she was lying, and it took great effort to learn that she wasn’t. It frightened him a little to know his power didn’t come as easily as it used to, but he didn’t have time to think about that right now. He needed to concentrate on Glenna. “We’ll see about that.”

  Moira shrugged and reached for Glenna’s head. Together they got most of the liquid down her. After Moira wiped Glenna’s face, she touched his hand. “Please let me stay beside her.”

  He looked into her green eyes and saw the pain reflected there. He nodded quickly before he changed his mind.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Conall held Glenna’s hand silently, begging her to wake. It had been almost two days since they had found her and neither he nor Moira had left her side. And during that time he had imagined every way possible to extract his revenge on the person who would dare hurt Glenna.

  The fact it was someone in his clan didn’t soften his resolve. He had told them he protected her. That should have been enough to keep everyone away from her. He looked up and studied Moira as she stared out the window. For just a moment she reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite grasp who.

  Then he knew. It was the subtle shift in her head that did it.

  “When do you plan to tell Glenna you’re her sister?”

  Moira’s blonde head jerked around to gawk at him. “How did you know?”

  “Similarities between the two of you. There is supposed to be three sisters. What of the other?”

  She looked away. “So you remember the prophecy.”

  “Aye.”

  “All of it?” She lifted her eyes, staring hard into his.

  “Aye.”

  She laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Nay, you don’t. You must remember all of it, Conall. Your future depends upon it.”

  “Tell me.”

  She sighed and took the chair on the opposite side of Glenna. “I cannot.”

  “You still haven’t answered me about your other sister. Since Glenna was taken as an infant I know she’s the youngest.”

  “And I’m the eldest.”

  He waited for her continue. “You know where the other is?”

  “Aye. She’s safe for the time being.”

  “Where?” Something goaded him to ask, though he wasn’t sure what.

  “Safe. Where Glenna should’ve been as well. Nothing turned out as it should have that night.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Her pinched lips told him she blamed herself.

  “I’m the eldest. It’s my job to keep my sisters safe. I failed that night. I won’t fail again,” she said, and turned her gaze to him.

  They sat in silence until Glenna murmured. Both jumped to their feet. “Glenna,” he called out to her. “Wake up.”

  “Aye,” Moira said. “You’ve slept long enough.”

  To their relief her eyes fluttered open. She looked from Moira to Conall and gave him a smile. She groaned and put a hand to her head. “What happened? I feel awful.”

  “I was hoping you’d tell me,” he said, and sat. “You don’t remember anything?”

  She thought for a moment. She tried to nod, but stopped after a grimace, and said, “Aye, I remember. Someone tried to push me from the tower.”

  Conall’s gut twisted. “Who was it?”

  “I never saw a face. All I remember is the hands around my throat. A man’s hands, big and very strong. And he was cloaked.”

  He sighed and gave her a smile when he saw her eyes closing. “Rest. We’ll talk later.”

  “Wait,” she said, her brows furrowing. “He had a mark on his hand.”

  Conall froze. “A mark?”

  “I didn’t see it clearly, but it was like the tattoos I’ve seen on some of the Druids. Except this one wasn’t black as the others were. It was a vivid blue.”

  “Sleep,” Moira urged, and ran her hands over Glenna’s eyes. She raised her gaze to Conall. “Find who did this.”

  “Only Druids hold those marks.”

  She straightened and clasped her hands in front of her. “Not only Druids.”

  “The warriors,” he said.

  “Find him. He’s upsetting the balance.”

  “Oh I will,” he promised.

  * * * * *

  Two days later he still hadn’t come any closer to discovering who had tried to kill Glenna. Frang and the Druids had aided him in his search, but it proved futile. Even the warriors had shown him their hands though it was evident they only did it by Frang’s request. Every Druid and warrior in the glen had markings on their hands but there wasn’t anyone who had the color mark Glenna saw.

  Conall stopped next to Frang. “This changes everything. My ancestors vowed to keep the Druids safe, but I’ll not honor that vow with a rogue Druid out to murder my family.”

  “It wasn’t a Druid who attempted to kill Ailsa.”

  “How do you know?” Conall asked, not masking the anger. “Does your infinite wisdom point to the attacker? My family isn’t safe.”

  “Because he’s the high priest.”

  Conall looked beyond Frang to find a warrior. This man was different. Not quite human. “I don’t remember asking you,” Conall said, and stepped to the side of Frang. “Who are you?”

  The warrior lifted one side of his mouth in a mocking grin. “Dartayous. And if you question Frang, you question all Druids.”

  Conall sized up the warrior. By the many daggers placed strategically on his body, the giant sword hanging on his hip and a bow of the like he had never seen before, he was every inch the warrior. And one the others looked to.

  Dartayous’ smile grew when Conall placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Finally,” Dartayous said, and took a step toward Conall.

 
; “Stop,” Frang said to Dartayous. For the first time in his life, Conall watched as Frang allowed his weariness to show. “We’ll keep your family safe, Conall.”

  “I think not. You didn’t keep Iona safe, nor my father, for that matter. I’ll take care of them myself,” he said, and strode back toward the castle.

  Conall waited for a parting remark from Frang and was relieved when none came. His vow hung over his head like a dark thundercloud ready to unleash its power. He wanted peace. He wanted a family. He wanted happiness. Was it too much to ask for? He didn’t ask for riches or power. His wishes were simple but beyond his reach it seemed.

  He had slept little after the attempt on Ailsa’s and Glenna’s lives. Someone, somewhere wanted them dead. Whether it was the same man or not, Conall was determined to find him. He would tell Angus to increase the questioning of his clan.

  Most of his clan, once they heard Glenna wasn’t a MacNeil, had readily accepted her. Despite his order to Angus and Gregor, the clan quickly learned what had happened to Glenna. Their outrage warmed his heart.

  Conall stepped into the hall and took the chair at the head of the table where Angus and Gregor sat.

  “I thought we’d have found the man by now,” Angus grumbled, and bit into a fresh tart.

  Gregor nodded.

  Conall looked around the hall and his men that mingled about. “Our clan numbers near two hundred, Angus. You didn’t expect to talk to everyone in two days, did you?”

  “Aye,” came the surly answer. “It has to be a man.”

  Gregor nodded again, but Conall recalled something Glenna said. “What if it wasn’t?”

  Angus and Gregor looked at him as if he had sprouted horns. “A woman wouldn’t have that kind of strength,” Gregor reasoned.

  “Wouldn’t she?” Conall asked. “We know a man attacked Glenna, but what if it was a woman who shot the arrow?”

  “The two could be related somehow,” Angus said slowly.

  They all looked at each other.

  “Guess we better start questioning the women,” Gregor said, and leaned back in his chair.

  Conall rose to his feet. “And I know who to start with.”

  * * * * *

  “I already told you I was here in the kitchens when Glenna was attacked.”

  Conall narrowed his eyes at Effie while she kneaded the dough for bread. As soon as she had seen him, she attempted to run. After a great amount of effort, his power told him she told the truth. Still, he couldn’t understand why she was so defensive. “Why do you hate Glenna?”

  “She’s a MacNeil,” Effie said, and continued to roll the dough.

  “You know she’s not. I know how fast word spreads in a clan.”

  She shrugged. “She may not be blood to the MacNeils, but she was reared as one of them. It’s all the same to me.”

  He watched as she ripped apart the dough, showing her agitation. Once again he reached out with his power to see if she spoke true, and for a moment there was nothing. Immediately he stopped. “Then tell me why you don’t like my daughter?”

  Her head jerked up, her eyes round from her surprise. “I…I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Aye, lass, you do.” He didn’t need his power to know she was lying. “What has that child ever done to you?”

  Again she shrugged and continued to beat the dough. “She’s just a child. She means nothing to me.”

  He clenched his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest. “If you keep beating that dough to death it’ll never rise.” He waited for her to look at him, and when she didn’t, he placed his hands atop hers to gain her attention. “Tell me who harmed Glenna.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  Without even trying his power told him the truth. Liar. He wanted to throttle her. “Did you shoot the arrow at Ailsa?”

  Her blue eyes glared up at him. “You were never supposed to know you had a daughter.”

  “And I suppose you were responsible for that,” he spat. How could he have ever thought her remotely pretty?

  She threw the dough across the room, her eyes shooting daggers. “I was supposed to be the one who gave you children.”

  “I can safely say that will never happen. Now. Answer me. Did you try to kill Ailsa?”

  She laughed hysterically. “Nay.”

  He struggled with his powers but couldn’t determine if she lied or not. “I will find out, and if you had anything to do with the attempts on either Ailsa’s or Glenna’s lives, I’ll banish you.”

  He almost smiled when she went white at his threat. He turned on his heel and walked from the kitchen.

  “Well?” Angus and Gregor asked him when he slid into his chair at the table.

  “She knows who did it.”

  “And you didn’t make her tell you?” Gregor sighed. “In my clan…”

  Conall waited for him to finish. “I thought you said you didn’t have a clan.”

  “I don’t. Not anymore.”

  “Just what clan did ye belong to?” Angus wanted to know.

  Gregor quickly changed the subject. “How long are you going to give her to tell you?”

  “A day. She’s afraid she’ll be banished. She’ll tell me,” Conall said, assured of his victory.

  * * * * *

  Gregor waited until Angus and Conall left the hall before he made his way to the kitchen. Effie sat on the floor, rocking back and forth. He was about to go to her to seek out information when the hiss of a whisper reached his ears.

  Effie jerked her head around and scrambled near the shadows by the back door. Gregor’s instinct told him it was the cloaked man they searched for. He could attack now and take him down, but if he did they would never find all the answers.

  His conscience warred within him. What he wanted to be and what he was fought a battle that soon had his head pounding.

  I’ll follow her and see what I find. I’m not taking any side in doing this small thing.

  Why can’t I chose what’s right? he thought to himself. Was he as wicked as his father claimed him to be?

  The scurrying of feet signaled Gregor he could no longer debate himself. He quickly followed Effie and the stranger as they made their way toward Effie’s hut. Before they reached the hut, the man stopped and bent next to her.

  Gregor strained his eyes but could make out nothing of the man other than he didn’t wear a kilt. The man moved swiftly in the shadows, and Gregor was awed at his fleetness that rivaled that of a deer.

  With his attention centered on Effie, Gregor watched as she ran to her hut. He didn’t knock as he strode through her door.

  She jerked around, her eyes wide. “Oh. It’s you,” she said with a smile. “If what you said is true, that you want to hurt Conall, then you can help me.”

  Gregor didn’t respond to her words, but she took his silence as agreement and flung herself into his arms. “I knew you were like me.”

  Never.

  “We’ll make a grand pair, you and I, and we’ll rule this castle like a king and queen.”

  He pulled her out of his arms and plastered a smile on his face. Apparently it was good enough for her because she ran to finish packing.

  “We must hurry,” she said while wrapping some bread. “We can ride through the night and reach MacNeil’s by tomorrow.”

  Gregor’s gut twisted. He was getting deeper in this than he wanted, but he didn’t have a choice. MacNeil expected him to dupe Conall, and Conall expected him to be a friend.

  Conall expected too much. Gregor was friend to no one but himself. I could change, he thought inwardly.

  Who would ever trust the likes of you? You’ve proven only coin matters to you.

  “Are you ready?” Effie asked. She walked to the door and held out her hand.

  Gregor stared at it for the longest time. He could throw her over his shoulder and take her to Conall. They might be able to gain some information out of her.

  Might.

  But he had given his word to MacNeil,
not Conall. Nay, Conall had never asked for his word because Conall knew what he was.

  A mercenary.

  And who was he to think he could change himself. A plan formed in his head.

  * * * * *

  Conall just thought Effie would tell him everything. The next morning when he went to Effie’s cottage, he found her gone.

  “St. Thomas,” he bellowed. He turned to the startled woman beside him. “Liza, are you sure it was Effie?”

  “Aye, laird,” The woman bobbed her white head. “Me eyesight’s not that good anymore, but there be no mistaking that red hair of hers.”

  “Do you often spy on your neighbors?” Gregor asked.

  Liza cackled and smiled a toothless grin. “I admit to wantin’ to see just who she’s meeting from week to week.”

  “Meeting?” Conall repeated. “She often left her cottage after dark?”

  “Every night.”

  “Did you see anyone with her last night?”

  Liza thought a moment. “Can’t says as I did, laird.”

  “Who’s she been seen with lately?” Angus asked.

  Liza shrugged. “That’s why I was lookin’ so hard. She’s been keepin’ him a secret. For a while I thought it was you, laird.” She looked at Conall.

  Conall squeezed his eyes shut. “Angus, go talk to the castle servants to see if someone saw her this morning. Gregor, talk to the guards at the gatehouse. They wouldn’t have let her out in the middle of the night.”

  He needed to talk to Glenna and Moira. If anyone knew anything it was one of those women. He walked into Glenna’s chamber and found her sitting up in the bed. The bruises had taken on a purplish-yellow tinge but were healing faster with Moira’s help.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She smiled. “My head still aches but I’m alive.”

  He turned to Moira. “I need your help.”

  “With what?” she asked as she mixed rose petals in water. She then dipped a cloth in the water. After wringing the cloth, she placed it on Glenna’s forehead. “This should help the ache in your head.”

  Conall ground his teeth. He hated asking for Moira’s help because he knew she was going to lecture him before she told him anything. “Moira, I’m trying to find the man responsible for trying to kill Glenna. I searched the Druids and warriors at the circle, but none had the blue mark on their hands.”