Charming the Highlander Laird

by Verlin Underwood

  Colin did not know what to expect from this time forward, but it would be a lot better than what Eldron had planned. At least now Baldric had a living chance.

  Chapter 4

  Dunaid Castle

  “You’re goin’ to Haddington?”

  Tara had debated whether she wanted to tell Adam where she was going. Indeed, she thought it might be better to just take off straight from Murdag, then write a letter to him stating her purpose of travel in the next town over.

  Tara straightened her posture so that she stood a little bit taller. Adam loved to treat her much like a child, and she wanted to let him know that she was perfectly capable of handling things on her own.

  “There is a witch who lives there. She is a teacher of the old ways an’ she may be able to help me.”

  “The old ways?” Adam skeptically asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Tara forced herself not to raise her own eyebrow in response. Ach, they were too much alike. Instead, she cleared her throat. “She’s a teacher of magic. I have read that half-fairies come to her to learn when they have no other resources or fairies to teach them.”

  “An’ does she know you’re comin’?”

  “Er… well, no.” An’ I don’t even know if she’s alive, Tara thought. She assumed it best that Adam did not know that tidbit of information. “But I don’t see why she wouldn’t help me.”

  “An’ what about Una?”

  “I saw her again last night. She’s found herself in southern England, much to her chagrin, I’m assumin’,” she added with a wry smile. “I reckon it would take her a while to make it north. I can keep an eye on her without her knowin’.”

  That didn’t seem to dampen Adam’s concerns. Instead, he sighed. “These are dangerous times,” he said. “Especially in the Lowlands. I don’t know if I want you wanderin’ around down there with the English so close by.”

  “I can’t just wait here for somethin’ to happen, Adam,” she told him.

  “Aye, I know,” he said. “An’ I wouldn’t want you to. You’ve seemed restless here at Dunaid for a while now.”

  She knew he didn’t just mean the situation with her mother. Tara shrugged. “You and Nellie found your purposes in life. Now I need to find mine.”

  Adam looked resigned. “Aye, I guess I can’t keep you here if you don’t want to. An’ if it gives us a chance for Dunaid to remain safe…”

  “I will do all in my power to keep my family safe,” Tara reassured him.

  “Aye, then go. Learn what you can an’ find a way to get rid of Una once and for all.”

  Tara nodded and couldn’t help but smile from relief. “Thank you.”

  “And you will take Ealair with you.”

  Tara’s smile quickly turned into a frown. “I believe he is enchanted by me.”

  “That is very presumptuous of you to think that every man is interested in you, sister.”

  Tara blushed. She didn’t really have proof that Ealair fancied her, other than that he enjoyed to be in her company. Maybe it was presumptuous of her to think that every man wanted to marry her. But it did seem that way.

  “Perhaps you’re right. An’ aye, he is loyal and good with a blade, as you indicated,” she admitted. “He saved me from certain death after a brigand stole my horse from me.”

  “You jest.”

  “I do not,” Tara insisted. “I have the wounds to prove it.” She pulled up the sleeves of her dress to reveal the cuts and bruises on her arms.

  “My, those are quite the battle wounds.”

  “Brother, I could have died!”

  Adam sobered quickly enough. “Aye, I know. That doesn’t mean I can’t tease you a bit. But that is worrisome to hear of brigands wanderin’ my lands. I’ll have to put more patrols out, I reckon. Are you goin’ to leave today?”

  “If there is no storm to hinder me, then aye.”

  Adam nodded. Suddenly, he seemed much older than his years. The Maxwell family had been through a lot in their lives. She didn’t blame her brother for worrying so much over her.

  “I’ll be just fine, Adam,” she told him. “I’ll write to you many letters.”

  “You’d better.”

  The late December weather was frigid, but, luckily, the snow was abysmal. After Tara packed her things, she and Ealair made due east, cutting through some of Nellie’s ancestral lands, including a forest that inhabited a very peculiar fairy.

  “It’s a Maxwell. It’s a Maxwell!” a cheery voice called out through the trees.

  “What is that?” Ealair hissed. His sword was already drawn and at the ready.

  “Relax, Ealair, it’s only a pixie,” Tara told him. “Put away your sword, or you shall frighten him away. Hello, Bhreac!” she called out.

  “Hullo, hullo!” came the reply.

  “I think you may like him,” Tara said to her guard. “He is a bit like you in some ways.”

  A tiny sprite of a man suddenly flew in front of Ealair, his wings buzzing like a fly. Ealair jumped and almost fell off his horse. The fairy proceeded to ignore Ealair and settled on top of the head of Tara’s horse. He gave her a little bow.

  “Miss Tara, it’s been far too long. How are you?”

  “Verra well, thank you,” Tara replied. “And you, Mr Bhreac?”

  There was a time when the pixie had feared Tara, as he had been frightened by her mother when she first journeyed through the forest to curse Burrach Castle, Nellie’s childhood home. However, after much assurance from Nellie, Bhreac warmed up to Tara as much as he warmed up to the rest of the Maxwell family, if not more.

  “Oh, fine, fine. Just a bit lonely, is all. No one has come to visit me in quite a while.” The pixie slumped his shoulders dejectedly and puckered his lower lip.

  Tara didn’t think that was quite accurate, as Nellie and her children enjoyed the pixie’s company several times in a month.

  “Where are you off to?” the pixie continued as he hovered around Ealair. “An’ who is this fellow? I’ve never seen you before,” he said, going nose-to-nose with the still uneasy Ealair.

  “We are goin’ to Haddington,” Tara told him. “This is my guard and escort, Ealair.”

  “Hullo, Ealair,” Bhreac exclaimed. Quickly, he lost interest in the man and flew back in front of Tara. “What are you goin’ to do in Haddington, anyway?”

  “I am meetin’ with a witch to discuss my magic.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forget that you have some fairy blood in you. Powerful fairy blood, I might add. Can you just do me a favor?” He leaned closer, as though he were to tell her a secret. “Can you find a way to release me from this forest?” he asked timidly, wringing his hands together. “I’m very tired of the same scenery day in an’ day out.”

  Tara smiled at him. “I will do my best to find a way, Bhreac,” she told him, although she wasn’t sure how she would be able to contact the Seelie Queen and plead for his release. However, she didn’t want the poor pixie to lose hope.

  “Thank you, my dear,” he said, bowing to the both of them. “Best of luck to you.”

  “Wait. Bhreac?” Tara called out before the fairy disappeared into the trees.

  “Mmm?” Bhreac flew back toward her.

  “Do you know of a witch named Rhona Thorne?”

  “Rhona… Thorne… Nay, can’t say that I do, but that is a very witchy name. I like it.”

  “All right, well, thanks anyway, Bhreac. Take care, will you?”

  “Likewise, Miss Tara. An’ it was a pleasure to meet you, Ealair.” The pixie took off into the forest.

  “I don’t know why you thought we would get along,” Ealair muttered as they continued through the forest.

  “Well, firstly, you both have the uncanny ability to talk a person’s ear off,” Tara told him. “However, Bhreac seemed a lot more subdued than usual. Perhaps his imprisonment is finally getting to him, the poor thing.”

  “Why is he imprisoned?”

  “The Seelie Queen deemed him too annoyin�
� to stay at her court.”

  Ealair laughed. Tara couldn’t help but smile too, despite Bhreac’s circumstances. “I really hope I can find a way to help him,” she said, almost to herself.

  They stopped for the night at the first inn they could find, and for the next two days they traversed through hilly terrain. The thought of being attacked by more brigands was on Tara’s mind, even though they had chosen to travel off the main roads that merchants usually took.

  However, they were able to make it to the Lowlands without any harm. After days of being far away from the ocean, she was relieved once again to have the air saturated with the salty sea. After living by the ocean for so long, walking through the midlands of Scotia caused her to be a trifle claustrophobic.

  It was her first time seeing the North Sea. In fact, it was the first time she’d ever seen the eastern side of Scotia. “Shall we stop by the beach for a little while?” she asked Ealair.

  Ealair complied, and they walked toward the coast. To the north, she could see the winding River Forth spilling out into the ocean. A rocky cliff greeted them, cutting sharply below them to the crashing waves. As Tara scanned the shoreline, she spotted a path that lead to a small beach.

  “Wait here for a moment,” she told her guard, then carefully walked down the path to the beach. She took off her shoes and walked barefoot. The sand was cool under her feet as she cut into the gentle waves until the water reached her ankles. It could have just been her imagination, but the ocean seemed much darker than it did by Dunaid and Murdag castles, and, in some ways, more restless.

  Tara was about to turn around and walk back up the cliff when a movement in the ocean caught her attention. She squinted her eyes against the glare of the sun hitting the water and didn’t see anything at first, but then, quicker than a blink, she noticed a splash just along the horizon.

  There was another splash, this time a bit closer. Perhaps it was a pod of porpoises playing in the water, Tara figured, but still she watched. A tingling sensation in the back of her neck told her that something wasn’t quite right. She then saw the tops of humanoid heads bobbing in and out of the water, some women and some male. They were all looking at her expectedly, with glowing eyes not so different from her own.

  Selkies, she thought, steadily gazing back at them. A shiver ran up her spine. They floated quietly, as though waiting for her to say something. Not knowing what else to do, Tara raised her hand in a greeting. Several of them glanced at each other until one male selkie raised a hand toward her. Two more followed the gesture. Tara gave them a nod and turned to leave.

  “What was that?” Ealair asked as Tara mounted her horse.

  “Selkies,” Tara told him. “However, I am not sure why they were there.”

  “Selkies? Are they dangerous?”

  “I don’t believe so. They are from the Seelie Court, who are mostly benign fairies.”

  Ealair looked uneasy, which she was quick to notice. “Do fairies make you uncomfortable?” Tara asked him.

  “Well, a little bit,” he admitted. “Of course, you don’t make me uncomfortable, Lady Maxwell. It’s just a bit unnervin’ to think that there are beings that live amongst us that are capable of such godlike power.”

  Tara laughed. “If only I had godlike power,” she said. “That would make it much easier to rid the threat of my mother.”

  “Well,” Ealair said kindly, “perhaps you will learn somethin’ like that in Haddington.”

  “Perhaps.” She didn’t want to admit how touched she was by his words. As she thought about it, Ealair, enchanted by her or not, did seem like a decent man and someone she could trust. Perhaps he could even be a friend.

  They made south and east toward Edinburgh and decided to stop for the evening at an inn just outside the city. Ealair pounded on the door, waking a disgruntled innkeeper.

  “We’re full,” the innkeeper said and started to shut the door in their faces.

  Tara stuck her foot out to stop the door from closing. “Please, sir,” she said, taking her coin purse out of her bag. She pressed some coins in the palm of the man’s hand. “We are weary. We will sleep on the tavern benches if that is all you can offer.”

  The innkeeper stared at the money, which was probably about twice or three times as much as what a regular room would cost. His eyes widened, and he gave them a big smile.

  “Come in,” he said, swinging the door out wide. “We have a room available for you that I completely forgot about. Come in.”

  Tara looked at Ealair, giving him a shrug, and walked in. “Do you happen to have two rooms?” she asked the innkeeper.

  “Y’know, I believe I do,” the innkeeper replied. He went behind the bar table and looked through a ledger. “Ah, yes, I do. Here are the keys, right next to each other. Would you like somethin’ to eat or drink?”

  “I’m all right, thank you,” Tara said. “Ealair, you may wish to stay up to eat, but I’m tired.”

  “Verra well, m’lady. I will remain vigilant while you sleep.”

  “I don’t believe that will be necessary, but thank you,” Tara said and walked up stairs to her room.

  The room was not much to see, just a simple bed in the corner and a chest to put her belongings in. She didn’t bother to change out of her clothes and instead fell onto the bed. Once her head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 5

  “But, Colin, I wanna go into the water!”

  It was the same argument they got into every night as they neared the sea. But now that the North Sea was just a half a day’s ride away, Baldric became more insistent.

  “No, Baldric.”

  “But why?”

  “It’s dangerous,” Colin replied, summoning his patience. It was perhaps the thirtieth time Baldric had asked that same question. “You don’t know how to swim.”

  “Can I learn?”

  “Someday, but not now. Right now, we must focus on going north. Now hush. Let’s get some sleep.”

  He hated to be so harsh with the boy, but as they neared closer to the borders, he needed to be. He hoped his disguise would make it easier to go past the Scots without raising any suspicion.

  Back in Felton, Colin had spent a good fortune on a cart to take up with him to Scotia to make it look like they were just a simple merchant family. He even went so far as to buy several baskets of wool from a farmer to load onto the back of the cart, just in case someone became curious about what he was selling. It was a good disguise, but he didn’t want to take any chances, so he tried to look as inconspicuous as he could. He didn’t speak much to others, and any transaction he got from the wool was swift.

  Their pace was much slower with a cart than without, but it was worth it. People hardly gave them a second glance as they rolled down the road north. But the closer they were to Scotia, the more nervous Colin became. What if someone saw through his disguise? What if the Scotsman still killed or imprisoned them?

  And surely, his brother had already sent word out of their escape. Eldron had close friends all around Northumbria. Surely, he would not hesitate to have his men kill them both at first sight.

  But Baldric would not have a chance if Colin didn’t try. He hoped that this lady in Haddington would help them out or give him some direction on what to do next. He was hopeless otherwise. Colin’s mother did live way up in the Highlands, but he would rather not bring any danger to his family up north.

  Colin hardly slept the entire journey, for fear that Baldric would escape from the makeshift bed he made for him in between the baskets of wool and wander off to his death. Luckily, Baldric had made no move to escape. The only worrisome thing he did was mutter his strange fairy language in his sleep. However, during the day, Colin would catch himself nodding off.

  They had spent the previous night in Coldstream, where Colin caught up a little bit on his sleep, and then made good timing after crossing the border in Scotia. Colin let out a sigh of relief as no one looked at him strangely or as
ked him questions. Perhaps they would make it without any sort of dramatic confrontation.

  His relief was short-lived.

  A group of three Scotsmen walking down the road approached his cart. Colin knew they were Scots based on the style of their tunics (which showed their muscular, bare legs) and the breacans that covered their shoulders. The largest one—an ugly, hairy fellow with an angry face, whom Colin assumed to be their leader—used a hand gesture to tell the others to wait and continued up to Colin.

  “What’s yer business?” The man’s accent was thick and blunt.

  Colin cleared his throat. “I’m heading to Haddington, then to Edinburgh to sell my wool.”

  The man cocked his head to the side. “Yer English?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Colin replied.

  The man laughed and turned to his comrades. “He called me ‘sir!’” he exclaimed to them. “Like I’m some fancy knight.” The others laughed as he turned back around and peeked into Colin cart. “What are ye sellin’ again? A lad?”

  Colin’s jaw clenched tightly. “That’s my son,” he told them, praying that Baldric wouldn’t say anything about what they were doing. “His mother… his ma died when he was born so I take him with me on business.”

  “And what’s that?” The man unsheathed his sword and poked at the baskets. “Those yer wool?”

  “Aye, it is.”

  The man laughed. “Well, I hate to break it to ye, but yer gonna have a very hard time tryin’ to sell wool. We ‘ave more sheep than people up here in Scotia.”

  “I can only do my best.” Colin gave a cordial smile that he prayed the man wouldn’t realize was fake.

  However, the man already seemed bored with him. “Verra well, you may pass.”

  Colin doubted the Scot was an authoritative figure who decided such things, but nonetheless, he appeared grateful. “Thank you, sir.” He whistled for Butter to hurry along.

  “Wait.”

  Colin inwardly cringed as the man stopped him again. His hand itched for his sword, but it would be folly to make such a scene here. He was plenty outnumbered. “Yes?”