The Highlander's Secret

by Jennifer Siddoway

  “I’m frightened,” she told him honestly while setting down her basket. “There are so many lives at risk…if I could just speak to them, we could avoid this entire battle.”

  Alan sighed. “I dinnae ken. Perhaps ye’re right, but yer da’s word is law and he wants us to be prepared.”

  “What if I rode out and spoke to them directly? Nae one else would have to be involved and it could solve everything.”

  Alan’s face hardened and he tightened his grip on her hand. “Have ye lost yer senses completely? What do ye ken those Vikings would do to ye?”

  “I’m the only one who speaks their language!” Jain insisted. “Doesn’t that make it worth the risk?”

  The young blacksmith shook his head, releasing her and Bruce came walking out of the shop behind him. “I promised Eamon that I would keep ye safe. Let’s not have any more talk of this suicide mission, alright? I love ye, and I will not see ye put yerself in that kind of danger.”

  Bruce crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning up against the doorframe. Jain wasn’t sure how much he overheard and nodded miserably. “Aye, husband. I understand.”

  Alan’s expression softened. “Why dinnae ye go home and get some rest? I’ll head up to the keep and see what yer da has planned. I’ll let ye ken what he says when I get home fer supper.”

  He kissed her on the forehead and watched Jain leave. She trudged down the road back to the village gate. Jain’s thoughts were in a fog as she tried to figure out what to do. None of them cared what she had to say; Alan and her father thought they could take care of it on their own.

  Jain knew better. She knew how ruthless Viking warriors could be.

  She walked mindlessly towards the house, feeling numb and completely helpless. That’s what Jain hated more than anything – not being able to do anything about it. With every step, a plan started forming in her mind and Jain set her jaw with determination. It was dangerous and Alan would be furious, but there was no other way.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  She lay in bed that night with her eyes wide open while Alan slept peacefully beside her. His arm was wrapped around her waist with the stubble of his chin scratching beside her neck. When she heard his low and steady breathing, Jain carefully crept out from beneath the covers and slipped away from his warm embrace.

  Jain dressed in the dark, with nothing but moonlight to illuminate the room as she secured the cloak around her shoulders. Just then, Alan rolled over in his sleep and Jain froze, afraid that she had woken him. When his gentle snoring continued, she exhaled in relief and knelt down to collect the pinnacular brooch that was hidden beneath a chair. With her bounty well in hand, she tiptoed from the room and cast one last glance towards her husband before shutting the door behind her.

  Sleep well, my love.

  Jain knew she had to move quickly, so she left the house at once and walked back into the stables. Her skirts swept across the grass and fallen leaves while she made it to the back of the house. Angus, their faithful chestnut stallion, was sleeping peacefully in his stall and she woke him with a pat on the neck. “Hello there, Angus. I’m sorry to wake ye, but we have one last ride to take together.”

  He sniffed at her hand expectantly and Jain winced, scratching him behind the ear. “Sorry, but there’s nae carrot today, just me.”

  Angus snorted in disapproval and she went to hitch him with tack and reins before climbing on and leading him out into the field. Her stomach folded over on itself in an uncomfortable knot at the thought of leaving Alan behind. Jain swallowed hard and put her own feelings aside, all for the protection of her people. She wasn’t even sure what that meant anymore.

  With the moonlit hills laid out before them across the moor, she urged Angus forward with her heel and quickly sped into a gallop. The wind whipped through her hair as they gained speed and she clung tightly to his reins. Jain’s cloak fluttered in the air behind her, but she kept her eyes focused on the path ahead.

  She had never been so terrified, nor had she ever been more sure that what she was doing was necessary and correct. She kept those thoughts deep inside and locked them away, giving her strength to know that her ride must continue.

  It was a long way before she saw dots of orange flame from campfires on the hills ahead. There were many times she thought about turning back, but she knew it was too late – the dye was already cast. Jain could smell the smoke rising from the fires as it mixed with the bitter tinge of salt along the coast. The difficulty of their terrain turned rocky as they got closer and she was jostled in her seat. Her heart was pounding wildly as she brought Angus to a halt and dismounted a safe distance away. She needed to approach them in a submissive fashion, so they would not attack. Otherwise, her entire journey had been for naught. Jain swallowed hard, gripping the reins within her hand and walked him slowly towards the encampment.

  She saw bodies move around the fires and begin to approach her as some of them came to investigate, arming themselves with weapons.

  “Who is it?” she heard them ask in their native tongue.

  “Some girl and her horse,” the man responded.

  Jain exhaled in the cathartic release of hearing her own language spoken. It had been so long since she heard it properly and it brought a flood of nostalgic memories. She never let down her guard though, and the moment was shattered almost as fast as it arrived by the swelling fear inside her chest.

  “A girl?”

  “That’s what I said,” the man snapped.

  “Is she alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what are ye waiting fer?”

  Jain tensed as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and they came towards her in the light of the fire, meeting at the wooden spike placed as a line of defense. “I’ve come in peace,” she told them.

  Her accent had become somewhat colored from her years of living in Elign, but the men’s eyes grew wide and clear with understanding. Their hair was long; some wore it in braids and others had shaved their heads along the side.

  “You speak our language?” the one with braids asked her bluntly.

  “Yes.”

  The other scoffed. “How is that possible?”

  “It seems the gods have a sense of humor.”

  Jain stepped forward, saying, “Because my parents are Viking. I’m the daughter of Erik Bjornson who died in the settlement here years ago. I’d like to speak with whoever leads this raiding party.”

  She held out the brooch for them to see, with the dragonhead pattern glistening in the moonlight. The one whose head was shaved crossed his arms in front of his chest as he eyed the brooch warily. “I’m not sure if what ye say is true, but the Earl would be curious to hear your tale regardless.”

  He pulled on a piece of rope that lowered some of the spikes towards the ground as a sort of fence and let her pass.

  “Your horse will have to stay,” he informed her curtly. “Ye can get it back when the Earl decides.”

  She nodded, while handing him the reins and followed the other deep into the Viking camp. The tents they had set up were secured with branches or pieces of driftwood and brightly colored fabric. Jain could feel their eyes on her as she walked past them, watching her suspiciously. Warriors and shield maidens sat by the fires, sharpening their axes on whetstones. Some of them were drinking ale, or perhaps something stronger, while they whispered to one another.

  “Who’s the girl?” a light-haired warrior asked.

  “She’s here to see the Earl,” the one with braids responded without hesitation.

  Jain’s heartbeat quickened, sensing the danger she was in and tried not to look at them for very long. The Viking men and women were so different then the people of Elign, they were harder…fiercer. Most of them were covered in tribal markings that had been tattooed onto their skin. Some of them had smudges of black grease beneath their eye, which Jain knew lessened the glare of the sun when it reflected off the water.

  So many things were reminisce
nt of her past, she could feel it rising up inside her. Eventually, they came to a large tent that had a colorful tapestry hanging from the door. The great tent – the one that was reserved for royalty.

  “Earl Ragnar, this girl is here to see you,” the man spoke after they went inside.

  She glanced at the warrior he had spoken to and felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs. His red hair was long and twisted back into braids along the top of his skull. The sides above his ears were shaved and there was a tattoo of a beast that crept up around his neck. He was tall and had broad shoulders that towered over her from his great height.

  He was built like any warrior and had muscular arms from rowing and years of having learned to wield a sword. The red-haired Viking glanced up at their arrival and his eyes narrowed when he saw her.

  “Ragnar?” she breathed out in shock.

  There was a long moment, while he looked Jain over carefully before the realization struck him. “Jain? Is that you?”

  Jain almost laughed and felt a tremendous amount of joy come bubbling up inside her. “Yes, Ragnar. It’s me.”

  Tears shone in her eyes. She reached up and touched her brother’s fiery beard, a reminder of the time they’d missed.

  “The seer told me I would find you, but I did not believe him,” Ragnar said. “Everyone else thought that you were dead.”

  “No, I’ve been living here all this time. There is a village south of here that took me in and cared for me. The man who raised me is their chieftain now, he’s worried that you’re going to attack.”

  “Of course we’re going to fight!” he snarled. “The men of this land destroyed our settlement, they killed our family.”

  “But it wasn’t them,” she argued. “You speak of avenging our family, but you’ve already done that ten times over. Isn’t it time for peace?”

  Ragnar scoffed. “How do you know that for sure?”

  “Because I knew Keenan! The people who took me in had no idea it was a Viking settlement. Whoever it was, it wasn’t them. These people are innocent. You speak of honor and justice, but killing them will not grant you that.”

  Ragnar raised an eyebrow.

  “I have no wish to kill innocent people, even if they are Christian. You claim they took care of you, and I suppose that puts me in their debt.”

  “You’ll not attack them then?”

  Her brother smiled. “Not for the love I bear you. However, if they threaten our camp I am obligated to defend our people.”

  “Why have you come back after all this time?”

  Ragnar sighed. “When they took me on the ship, I told them we had to go back. I knew you had to be hiding somewhere. None of them would listen. They tied up Leif and me until we made it back to the Viking stronghold. The ships finally landed, and I asked Earl Thorston to send a search party. He said it was too dangerous. He said that because our settlement was massacred it was a sign from the gods that we were never to return.”

  “But here you are,” Jain muttered. “What about our brother, Leif?”

  Her brother winced. “Leif is in Valhalla. He died on a raid two years ago. After a while, I gave up hope. I mourned your death, and the death of our father for many years…until last winter when I went to the seer. He said you were alive and well, but wouldn’t be for long – I had to come rescue you. I asked the Earl again to let me have a ship and that I would sail across the sea. When he denied me again we got into an argument.”

  Jain’s eyes grew wide as he paused in the story to have a drink. “What happened?”

  “I buried an axe in his skull,” Ragnar responded with a grin. “Now I am Earl. I am the one who decides when and where we raid. I have control of all our ships, and do you know how I chose to use them?”

  “How?”

  He leaned in and took Jain by the hand, saying, “To find my sister so I could bring her home at last.”

  Jain pulled her hand away from him. “I’m not going with you, Ragnar. That is what I came to tell you. These are good people and they took care of me for many years. I’ve made a home here, you can’t take me away from it.”

  “Of course I can,” he growled. “You’re a Viking by birth and your place is with us, whether I have to drag you home or not. I did not come all this way just to go back empty-handed. We’ll camp here for the night and then tomorrow we can discuss what to do about your village.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she told him, “This is my home, not back north in the land you came from. I wouldn’t even recognize our homeland when we got there.”

  Her voice cracked with raw emotion as she said it, realizing how true those words had become even if she had never admitted it to herself.

  “You made a home with strangers once, you can do it again,” he spat out angrily.

  Jain shook her head. “No! I will not leave here. Ragnar, I’m married and in love. Please don’t make me choose between the love of my life and the love of my family. It would break my heart in pieces.”

  “Married? To who?” Ragnar demanded. His voice was softer when he questioned her and Jain’s eyes began to mist.

  She smiled at him and said, “To a good man who I love and treats me well, that’s all you need to know.”

  “I’ve been searching…for so long I’ve been searching to find you, and now I don’t even recognize you.”

  Jain stepped forward and took her brother by the hand. “Ragnar, I love you. You’re part of who I am, but this is my life now.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Alan rolled over in bed and reached for Jain beside him. His hand found the empty coolness of the place where she had been and that startled him awake. The blacksmith’s eyes flew open as he sat up on the bed and threw back the rest of the covers. When he saw that there was no warm body next to him, Alan began to panic.

  She was gone.

  Completely awake now, he called out into the living space, “Jain?”

  When there was no response he swiftly rose to his feet and started putting on his clothes. How could he not have felt her leave? And where would she have gone at this ungodly hour? She couldn’t possibly have been so foolish as to ride off by herself, could she?

  He already knew the answer and cursed aloud. Jain was a headstrong woman and that was part of what he loved about her, but that also meant she was stubborn and careless at times. If she was doing what Alan thought she was then there wouldn’t be much time, in fact he may already be too late.

  There’s no telling what the Norsemen would do to her when she got there.

  Alan threw on a tunic and some hose before running out to the stables and calling out her name. He knew it was a desperate attempt, but he had to try. “Jain! Jain, where are ye?”

  There was no answer, just the hoot of an owl in the distance.

  When he came to the stables, Alan saw that Angus and some supplies were missing. Of course she would have taken him, Angus always was her favorite. His chest felt heavy at seeing the empty pen, confirming all his fears, and he began breathing through his mouth.

  Jain had really done it – she was gone. The foolhardy lass had put herself in the most dangerous position Alan could possibly imagine after he explicitly told her not to.

  He gritted his teeth in a fit of rage, opening the pen to climb onto the gray mare. There was no time for rein and tack, so he climbed on the way she was and rode her bareback. He bolted forward when the horse emerged and galloped all the way to the edge of the farm. As they were about to head north and catch up with Jain, he cast a glance towards the keep.

  The stone fortress sat on the top of the hill like a giant beacon. Alan knew he could probably catch up with Jain himself, but what he didn’t know is whether or not he’d be able to get them back alive. As much as he wanted to charge after her, Alan knew he needed help. He needed Eamon. He needed an army.

  The Vikings wouldn’t listen to the word of just one man, they would have to be convinced to let her go.

  Alan roared in fru
stration and turned the horse around, guiding it back towards the village gate. Eamon would know what to do. He was wise and had prudent council into matters such as this. Most importantly, he loved Jain as much as Alan did and he could help him find her.

  Alan gripped the animal by its mane and rode up the hill through the winding streets until arriving at the stone archway. Guards that had been positioned at the gate became alert when he came into view and walked over to where he dismounted. It was clear they recognized him but were surprised by the unexpected visit. “Alan? What brings ye here?” one asked.

  “I need to see my father-in-law,” he told them. “There’s been an incident. My wife, Jain, is missing.”

  Immediately, they nodded and one led him deep into the keep where the chieftain and his wife would be sleeping. The stone walls of the castle keep were dark and illuminated only by candlelight and the moon outside while they ran down the corridor. Alan grew increasingly anxious by the necessary precautions needed to procure men for his quest in retrieving Jain. More soldiers were stationed outside the living quarters. “What is this?”

  “Step aside, Ian. I have need to speak with Eamon,” Alan growled.

  The warrior stumbled back at his reply and glanced at the guard who first brought him there for confirmation. When the other nodded, Ian let him pass and knock loudly on the wooden door. “My laird? I’m afraid ye’re needed,” Alan called to him inside.

  There was a groan and the sound of movement coming from behind the door when Eamon opened it from the other side. “Alan? What has happened that ye would come barging in here in the middle of the night?”

  “Forgive me, my laird. I’m aware of the time, but Jain is missing,” Alan told him from the hallway. “I dinnae ken what else to do. I’d go after her myself, but I fear she will need more than that to bring her home.”

  Eamon’s eyes snapped awake and he turned to him in shock, as if seeing him for the first time. “What?”

  “When I woke up she was gone, and so was Angus,” Alan clarified. “I think she rode off to deal with the Viking threat by herself. She’s convinced that if she could speak with them it would avoid a conflict. I told her that nae such thing was possible, but she ignored my wishes and disappeared.”