Mael: Immortal Highlander, Clan Mag Raith Book 2
Page 5
That’s very good, Broden. I believe we’ve finished.
“No, woman,” Cul murmured, thinking of the traps he might employ. “You’ve much more work to do before you depart the mortal realm.”
From there he returned to his archive, and took a blank sheet of parchment and ink from the stores of what he had made himself since coming to Dun Chaill. He would have to be clever now, but careful. More than once he had underestimated the canniness of mortals, and to do so now might spring his trap too early.
He stoked the hearth in his chamber before he took to the desk he had built even before the archive existed. The chair he’d fashioned to fit his distorted body creaked as he lowered himself onto it. He spread out the parchment and weighed it down. Carefully he uncorked the bottle of ink and poured a small measure over the center of the blank scroll. It puddled in the air just above the scraped skin.
“Now,” he murmured, watching a shimmer engulf the murky blue liquid. “Show them all they have not found.”
A quill made of dark green light appeared above the ink, dipped itself into the puddle, and began to draw.
Chapter Eight
THAT AFTERNOON MAEL asked Jenna to walk with him down to the stream. As they made their way through the forest, she spoke of her plans to alter the waterfall room to make it safe for their use.
“It’s the last deathtrap in the keepe, but it’ll be easy enough to deactivate. Once Domnall and I remove the levers from the sluice doors, and the shut-off valves from the ducts, it should make a pretty good bath house.” A soft smile played over her lips. “The water is the perfect temperature.”
He tried not to think of Rosealise bathing in a cascade, yet his mind would dwell on nothing else. Everything about the Englishwoman fascinated him. He’d even considered saying nothing about what he discovered that morning. He wished to protect the lady, just as he had Jenna when he had first glimpsed her using her magic. But the architect had been fully aware of what she had been about, and he had to think of the others now.
When they reached the banks, Jenna sat down on a flat rock. She looked out over the sparkling currents before she met his gaze.
“We didn’t come here to talk about my renovation plans. What’s on your mind?”
Mael told her, beginning with his reactions to Rosealise’s requests and adding what he’d observed Edane and Broden do for her. It felt like a betrayal, but he knew that to conceal it might lead to something far worse. When he finished Jenna glanced back at Dun Chaill, her brows drawing together.
“You really think Rosealise is capable of something like that? I think we would have noticed.”
“I dinnae reckon ’tis noticed or felt. Hasnae she done the same to you, and you couldnae resist?”
“No, but…” She paused and frowned. “It is odd, how much I’ve told her about us. Any time I’m with her and she asks me something, I answer her. Even when it’s something she’s not yet prepared to hear. But it wasn’t deliberate on her part. She’s very easy to talk to, and it’s nice to have another woman around the castle.”
“You didnae ken you could take on ghost form,” Mael pointed out. “I dinnae blame the lady for it. I vow she’s no’ at all aware of it.”
“Okay, for the sake of argument, let’s say you’re right.” Jenna cocked her head. “Why are you telling me instead of Domnall?”
“I must advise the chieftain,” he admitted. “Yet I would first be sure. We must see her use her power where all may behold it. I ken you’d keep the scheme to yourself until ’tis done, and after you could aid Rosealise in how to reckon with such a gift.”
“You’re a nice man, Mael,” she said and nodded. “All right, I’m in. How do we do this?”
“I must be the one to test her.” Mael thought of the few things he abhorred. “Vetch. I cannae abide the taste of it. Nor can I stomach it. Even when I didnae ken ’twas in the pottage the dru-wids prepared, ’twould make me boak.”
“Well, we’ve got plenty in the garden.” Jenna rubbed her knuckles against her chin. “I think I know how to manage it.” She told him of her notion, and then reached out and touched his arm. “You’re sure you want to put yourself through this?”
“’Tis better we ken,” he assured her.
Back at the stronghold they skirted the great hall and entered the kitchens through the side passage. While Jenna prepared the cook pot, Mael went out to the garden to collect the vetch. Brambles had grown over the gap in the hedge where he had jumped out with Rosealise, but when he stepped nearer the branches parted to form another opening.
“’Tis another bespelled trap,” Edane said as he waded through the overgrown herbs to join him. “’Twill do the same at every side wherever we draw near. I’ve told the others.”
Mael glanced at the archer, who held a spade fashioned from a branch and a piece of slate.
“What do you now?”
“I saw a mound of stone and dirt in the forest,” Edane said, nodding toward the south. “’Tis too shaped to be natural, and too high for a grave site. I feel no magic from it. Why do you gather that? You ken how swift vetch sours your belly.”
Mael tugged out some stalks. “’Tis what Jenna calls an ‘experiment.’” He eyed the archer. “’Twould oblige me to have your aid with it.”
Edane frowned. “What manner of mischief do you?”
“Naught ’twill harm anyone,” he assured him. He didn’t want to condemn Rosealise yet without proof, so he added, “’Tis more of a trial, to ken what we reckon to be truth. I’ll tell you the rest once I speak to Jenna.”
The archer accompanied him back to the kitchens, where Mael gave the plants to Jenna. She chopped them and brought a handful to the pottage she had cooking over the fire.
“No, Brother,” Mael told Edane when he tried to stop her. “’Tis necessary to prove a notion. Only ken I shallnae willingly touch that pottage.”
“Why should you?” The archer frowned. “By the Gods, Mael, I cannae fathom your wit.”
“’Tis no’ a jest.” He regarded the chieftain’s wife. “I must tell him all, but nowhere we may be heard. We’ll return in time for the evening meal.”
Jenna gave him a sympathetic look. “All right. Just be ready for anything.”
Chapter Nine
ROSEALISE GLANCED AROUND the great hall with some satisfaction. With Broden’s help she’d swept three of the chimneys before Jenna came out to join them.
“You’ve been busy,” the chieftain’s wife said as she regarded the neat piles of rotting leaves, abandoned birds’ nests and twigs they had cleared. “If you don’t mind stopping for a bit, it’s time to feed these guys.”
“Of course.” Rosealise eyed her blackened hands. The sight of them made her feel an urge to cough again, but swallowing dispelled it. “Broden and I will have a wash first, and then I’ll help you.”
The other woman eyed the soot-covered trapper before she nodded.
After a good scrub at the kitchen basin Rosealise went to the hearth to check the bubbling pot of soup Jenna had made, and took in the scrumptious aroma.
“This smells delicious.”
“It’s mostly quail and wild carrot, with some herbs. An old Pritani recipe that everyone loves.” Jenna nodded at a stack of broad wooden bowls and a pile of carved spoons. “If you’ll set the table, I’ll bring out the pot.”
In the great hall Broden and Domnall had assembled the trestle table, on which Rosealise placed the bowls and spoons. The primitive place settings would have looked a little more civilized with some napkins, but perhaps in time they could purchase or trade for such niceties.
I don’t wish to leave here. The thought should have startled her, but it seemed entirely natural. She had been made welcome by good, kind souls who seemed the very best of friends, and of course there was Mael. Perhaps he will ask me to stay.
As all the other men arrived, Jenna came to her.
“Would you ask Mael to try the soup first? He told me how to make it, so I�
��d like to know what he thinks.”
Rosealise smiled. “Of course, but I’m sure it’s very appetizing.”
She sat down beside the tracker and took his bowl to ladle in a healthy portion of the pottage. When she sat it in front of him, however, he merely shook his head.
“Jenna desires your good opinion of her cooking,” she reproved him gently, and touched his arm. “Do try some of the soup.”
Mael’s hand shook oddly as he picked up his spoon and dipped it into the bowl. Just as he lifted it to his lips Jenna came over and snatched the spoon away. He then took Rosealise’s spoon and used it as if nothing had happened.
“My lady,” Edane said, as if in warning.
“Tell him to stop,” Jenna said to her.
“Whatever for?” Rosealise protested, astounded by the presumption.
By then Mael had swallowed a mouthful of the soup. His lips thinned, and he rose to his feet. Without a word he fled the hall, and the distant sound of his retching drifted back to them.
Edane muttered under his breath before he got up and went after the tracker.
“Rosealise, please don’t say anything else until after I explain,” Jenna said quickly. “Mael told me earlier today that the taste of vetch makes him very sick. He never touches it, or any food that contains it. All the other hunters know this, too. That’s why I put a bunch of vetch in the soup.”
“What say you?” Domnall said and he rose and peered into the cook pot before giving her a narrow look. “You ken you’d poison him?”
“Mael asked me to do it. He even went out to the garden to pick the vetch for me. He also promised me that he wouldn’t eat any of the soup.” She shifted her gaze to Rosealise. “But you told him to try it, and he did. Just as you told Broden to help you sweep the chimneys, and Edane to use his shaman training. Neither of them would have voluntarily done those things. You persuaded them to do it against their will.”
Broden pressed a hand over his eyes, and Kiaran’s expression darkened.
“I cannot make out your meaning, my dear,” Rosealise said slowly. “Why should you blame me for what these men did?”
“We believe you have the ability to persuade anyone to do what you say while you’re touching them,” Jenna said. “It may have been given to you during your time in the underworld.”
A laugh burst from Rosealise. “That’s utterly absurd.” She saw the way the men were regarding her now and felt a sudden dread. “Do understand, I’m aware that I’m rather a forthright soul. Whatever I did in my life must have required some instruction of others, for I seem very comfortable with it. But for me to inflict such coercion on others by touch? It simply isn’t possible.”
“You must show her your power, luaidh,” the chieftain said gently to his wife.
Jenna bowed her head, and her body began to fade from view. When she looked as if she might dissolve entirely, she stood up and walked through the table. On the other side she grew solid again as she met Rosealise’s horrified gaze.
“My ability allows me to move through solid objects.” She nodded at Domnall. “My husband can move faster than the eye can see. The other men all have their own extraordinary talents, too.”
“I will prove you wrong,” Rosealise said, rising from the table and moving to where the trapper sat. “Broden, I’m sure you helped me with the chimney sweeping because you wished to.” She patted his shoulder. “You’ve been ever so kind, all day. Please, assure them of this.”
“I wished to help Rosealise,” Broden said through his clenched teeth.
Jenna sighed. “You persuaded him again by touching his shoulder and telling him to assure us of what you said.”
This was completely ridiculous, but thankfully her innocence would be proven in another moment. She removed her hand.
“Very well. Broden, please speak the truth. Did you wish to help me with the work?”
“No.” The trapper’s expression turned to disgust as he looked down at the soot staining his tunic. “I’d rather eat raw vetch than do such work.”
Rosealise froze. “If it was not your desire to do so, then why did you?”
Broden shrugged. “When you spoke, I thought of naught else but what you wished.” He made a harsh sound. “You enslave with your words, my lady.”
A miserable shame filled Rosealise as she slowly backed away. “It would seem you are correct in your suspicions, Jenna.” Her face was burning hot, and her hands shook as she pressed her cold fingers against her cheeks. “I must beg forgiveness from all of you. Truly I had no idea I’d forced anyone to do my bidding. The notion that I could is absolutely abhorrent to me.”
“It’s all right,” Jenna said quickly. “Now that you’re aware of your persuasion power, you can learn to control it. We’ll help you.”
“When I might control you with a touch?” She shook her head. “You’ve been so thoughtful and attentive, and I’ve done this terrible thing. I might have hurt one of you. I must go at once. Somehow I’ll find my way to my people.”
“They’ve no’ been born yet, my lady,” Domnall told her, and glanced at Jenna, who nodded. “When the Sluath hunt mortals to enslave they move through time. They stole my wife from the twenty-first century. Jenna believes you lived in the nineteenth. The Mag Raith came from the first. Here and now, ’tis the fourteenth century.”
What he’d said stunned Rosealise, but everything she hadn’t understood about the men—their speech, primitive mannerism, and comfort with the lack of amenities—all became suddenly comprehensible.
“Is this what you’ve been keeping from me?” she asked the chieftain’s wife.
“Yes,” Jenna said, “but only because we didn’t want to upset you anymore than you already were. We would have told you eventually.”
Even when deceiving her they had been kind. “Jolly good of you. Do be assured that I won’t cause any more trouble.”
Rosealise fled the hall, stopping only when she encountered Mael and Edane in the outer passage. Perspiration covered the seneschal’s pale face, and he had an arm around the archer’s shoulders as if he might collapse without the support. He’d treated her with such gentleness and consideration, and in turn she’d made him suffer.
“You needn’t worry about this happening again,” she said to Mael. “I’m so dreadfully sorry.”
She rushed out of the keepe, and hurried toward the forest. Not knowing where she would go or what she would do didn’t matter. She simply needed to escape, and find a quiet place where she wouldn’t impose herself on anyone. There she could collapse and weep and rail at the unkindness of her fate.
Just before she reached the trees a blur rushed past her. It stopped and became Domnall, standing directly in her path. When she tried to go around him his body blurred, and he blocked her again.
“Dinnae run from us, my lady,” the chieftain said, putting his hand on her arm.
Jenna had spoken the truth about her husband as well, Rosealise thought dully. “Please move out of my way.” As he immediately stepped to one side she groaned. “Forgive me, sir. I did not intend– Oh, how could they do this to me? And why would they take me from my own time to bring me here to yours?”
“I cannae tell you,” Domnall said. “The Sluath took the Mag Raith without reason, and when we awoke all we cared for had died or vanished. ’Twas when I discovered my quickness, by running three leagues in as many breaths. Had I no’ stopped myself, I’d have gone over a cliff. ’Twill seem unbearable now, but you’ve strength and courage. You’ll find the will to live with it.”
“Perhaps, but you cannot trust me. Indeed, Chieftain, I have absolutely no more faith in myself.” She was so wretched she wanted to weep. “Would you be so kind as to offer my sincere apologies again to Mael? I never dreamt of making him suffer so.”
Heavy footsteps approached, and the chieftain looked past her. “Tell him yourself, and stay, Dash. We need you here.”
Dash.
The fondness with which he renamed her
both comforted and bewildered Rosealise as she watched him go. She could not bring herself to face the man standing behind her, but courtesy demanded she say something.
“You needn’t ask me to stay, really,” she said as evenly as she could. “You owe me nothing, and I certainly cannot say the same. After what I’ve done, what I can do, it’s quite clear that I must depart.”
“’’Tis no such thing,” Mael said. “Willnae you look at me?”
His hands touched her shoulders, and gently guided her around toward him. His breath smelled of mint rather than sick, and she was relieved to see his color had returned. His warmth engulfed her like a fond embrace. Everything inside her wanted to be here with him, and nowhere else. To know she’d harmed him, however, made her insides curdle.
“How much you must despise me,” she said, and ducked her head. “Not that I wish you to.” Meeting his gaze again took all her nerve, and when she saw the sorrow there it defeated the last of her thin courage. “Mael, I must leave. Surely you must… Oh, this is wretched, that I might force you to do anything with a touch.”
“Listen to me first, my lady. Since boyhood I’ve been this great hulk, just as my sire was. Fargas lived to make others cower before him.” He glanced down at himself. “Yet ’twas never in my nature to act the brute as he would. I didnae care to forever drink and brawl as he did. ’Twas my aim to be caring and friendly. My people still kept their distance and made me feel an outcast. No matter what I did, I ever frightened the young, the small, and the weak.”
“How you look isn’t your fault,” she said, feeling now as if her heart would break.
“Aye, and nor ’tis yours, this persuasion power. We’ve all some burden to carry, my lady.” He took her hand, as if he meant to lead her back to Dun Chaill. “Permit us help you to bear it.”