Warrior of the Isles

by Debbie Mazzuca

  Aidan surreptitiously brought his soiled shirt to his nose and sniffed. ’Twas the truth, he was ripe. “Mayhap if ye allowed me to bathe before kidnappin’ me, I wouldna offend yer delicate sensibilities.”

  Gavin crawled over to Aidan and sat beside him. “Aye, and if we did, ye would have refused to come. Like ye did when we asked ye a fortnight ago, and the time before that.” He turned to Aidan, his expression pensive. “He’s been gone too long. Somethin’ is amiss. I ken things havena’ been the same between the two of ye, no’ since . . .” He shoved his hand through his hair. “Ye need to find him, Aidan. If anythin’ happened to Lan, ye’d never forgive yerself.”

  Aidan breathed in the salty sea air and looked out across the sparkling turquoise waters the midmorning sun danced upon. Gavin was right. Lan had been gone too long. He should have listened to his men when they first suggested he head to Dunvegan.

  He scrubbed his hands over his face, his fingers snagging in his beard. Bloody hell, he hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d taken a blade to his face.

  Gavin crossed his arms over his chest. “Aye, ye’re a shaggy beast. ’Tis my hope yer cousin’s wife will take ye in hand.”

  “While the two of ye are yammerin’, I’m doin’ all the work. We’re comin’ in to shallow waters,” Donald informed them in a disgruntled voice.

  Aidan pulled himself to his feet and leaned over the rail. Dunvegan was now visible to the right of the bow, perched above the loch, gleaming golden in the noonday sun. In the crystal clear waters below them, a trout wove its way through the rocks. “Sweet Christ, Donald, ye’ll run us aground fer sure.”

  Gavin, leaning over alongside him, nodded his head. “Over ye go, then.”

  “What?” Aidan bellowed. “Are ye daft? The water is freezin’ and we’re almost a league from shore.”

  Gavin shrugged. “Ye swim like a fish. Ye’ll be fine. Besides, ye need a bath.”

  “I’m no’—”

  Splash.

  The weight of his clothes dragged Aidan beneath the water. With a violent kick of his feet, he exploded above the surface. He treaded water and glared up at Gavin and Donald. “Ye wait until I get home. The two of ye will pay fer that.”

  Gavin sniggered, wiggling his scrawny legs. “We’re shakin’ in our boots. Ye havena’ trained in ages. We’d beat ye with one hand tied behind our backs.”

  The icy waters caused Aidan’s muscles to tighten. He couldn’t waste his energy exchanging insults with the two fools hanging over the rails laughing at him. He cursed while he struggled to remove his boots, thinking the least they could’ve done was let him strip down to his braies before they tossed him overboard.

  It took him longer than it should have to reach the shore. Gavin was right. They could beat him with both hands tied behind their backs. Dragging himself onto the rocks, he rolled onto his back. His heart hammered in his chest and his breath came in harsh gasps. Exhaustion turned his arms and legs to jelly, and he closed his eyes. He needed a wee rest was all. A brief respite before he faced his cousin Rory and his family.

  Aidan awoke with a start. He opened his eyes, his vision obscured by a heavy clump of rusty brown water weeds. Cursing, he pulled them off his face, spitting the stringy remains from his mouth. Two wee demons, one dark, one fair, stared down at him, their mouths agape.

  Ewwhh. Their terrified screams rent the air, and Aidan’s ears.

  “He’s no’ dead, Jamie. The creature lives,” the dark-haired one cried out.

  “I’m no’ a creature,” he growled, struggling to sit up. The piles of pebbles and sand he’d been buried beneath cascaded from his chest and arms.

  “Jamie, he’s gettin’ up. He’s goin’ to eat us.”

  “Nay, I’ll no’ let him, Alex.” The fair-haired demon whacked Aidan on the head with a long, blackened stick.

  “Ouch! Stop that, ye little monster.” He lifted an arm to protect himself while trying to grab hold of his attacker’s weapon with the other, but he was too fast for him. Aidan wrapped his arms about his head when the dark-haired one joined in.

  Certain he heard a man and woman laughing not far in the distance, Aidan called out, “Help!”

  “What the . . . Jamie, Alex, stop beatin’ on yer Uncle Aidan.” He heard the distinctive rumble of laughter in his cousin’s deep voice.

  Aidan slowly lowered his arms, and glared up at Rory. “I should’ve kent the wee demons were yers.” He rose to his feet, shaking off the last of the rocks and sand. “And I’m no’ their uncle. I’m their cousin,” he muttered.

  Rory shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching. “They only have Iain, so we made you an honorary one.” His cousin turned his attention to the wee demons, who whispered to one another. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “Now, apologize to yer uncle fer beatin’ on him.”

  Rory’s wife, Aileanna, scrambled over the rocks. She frowned, then her eyes widened. “Aidan?” Looking from him to her sons, she asked, “Jamie, Alex, what did you do?”

  “We didna ken he was our uncle, Mama. Right, Alex?”

  “Nay, we thought he was a monster. He was goin’ like this.” The wee brat mimicked a loud snoring sound.

  “Aye . . . aye, and then he growled.”

  No longer able to contain his mirth, his cousin howled with laughter.

  “Rory!” Aileanna elbowed her husband in the side. But Aidan didn’t miss the fact she bit the inside of her cheek and her bonny blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’m . . . I’m sorry, Aidan. Boys, apologize.”

  Heads bowed, the two of them moved the stones in the sand with the toes of their boots. “Sorry,” they mumbled, peeking at him from beneath their long lashes as though they were a couple of wee angels.

  The dark-haired one’s eyes widened and he tugged on the sleeve of Aileanna’s violet gown. “Mama, he looks like he’s goin’ to eat us,” he whimpered.

  Rory angled his head. “You do look kinda fierce, cousin. Mayhap you can give them a wee smile.”

  “Oh, fer the love of God.”

  Aileanna slanted him an unamused look, her lips pursed.

  “All right,” he grumbled and bared his teeth.

  Their mouths dropped open. Squealing, they turned on their heels and ran.

  “Alex, Jamie, be careful,” their mother shouted after them.

  Shaking her head, Aileanna approached Aidan, reaching up on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Oh, dear Lord, what did the boys douse you with?” She waved a hand in front of her nose. “I’ll have a bath prepared for you, Aidan.”

  Before she walked away, his cousin grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. “’Tis a shame our sons interrupted us. Mayhap later we’ll take up where we left off,” he murmured.

  Sweet Christ, now he knew why Iain chose to spend as little time at Dunvegan as he did.

  Aileanna smiled up at her husband. “You may have missed your chance, darling.” She patted Rory’s chest while stepping away from him. “My father and aunt have promised to come for a visit and I have much to do to prepare for their arrival.”

  “Aileanna,” Rory called to her retreating back. “Aileanna, that’s no’ funny. Tell me yer jokin’. Aileanna!”

  They heard her husky laugh over the gentle lap of the waves along the shore.

  “She’d best be jokin’. The old goat was here only a fortnight ago,” his cousin grumbled.

  “Ye and the MacDonald are as close as ever, I see.”

  “Aye, ’tis lucky fer him I adore my wife and would do anythin’ to make her happy. If I had my way, he’d be visitin’ but once a year.” Rory drew his gaze from Aileanna and clapped Aidan on the back. “It’s been too long, cousin. I almost didna recognize you.”

  Aidan rubbed his bearded jaw as they walked along the beach toward Dunvegan. “Aye, it has.”

  Rory glanced down at Aidan’s bare feet then out over the loch. “Gavin and Donald throw you overboard?”

  He grunted.

 
; Rory laid a hand on his arm, forcing him to stop. “Somethin’ is amiss. What is it?”

  “Lan.” He lifted his gaze to the white, fluffy clouds scuttling above the verdant green of the treetops, unable to meet the concern in Rory’s eyes. “He hasna’ come home. ’Tis close to two months since he’s been gone.”

  Rory shook his head slowly. “I didna realize that much time had passed since he’d paid us a visit. He seemed fine to me, but Aileanna didna think so. She thought he appeared troubled.”

  “Aye, well, we’ve had our differences of late. And I ken ye heard about the Lamonts.”

  With a reassuring squeeze to Aidan’s shoulder, Rory said, “Aye, a nasty business that, but doona ye worry, we’ll find him. Once you’ve cleaned up, you, Fergus, and I will put our heads together.”

  “Iain’s no’ about?”

  “Nay, he and the McNeils put out to sea around the same time Lan stopped by.”

  “He’s doin’ well, then?” Aidan asked as they neared the keep.

  “Aye, better than well. The lad has made a small fortune in the venture.”

  Mrs. Mac, his cousin’s housekeeper, and Aileanna turned when they walked through the doors. “Och, I see what you mean.” The older woman wrinkled her nose and Rory’s wife’s cheeks pinked. “Come with me, Laird MacLeod, we’ll have you good as new in no time.”

  Aidan groaned at the determined look in Mrs. Mac’s eyes.

  Hours later, outfitted in a pair of his cousin’s trews and a clean white tunic, Aidan entered the grand hall. He felt more like himself than he had in a long while. Mrs. Mac had rubbed his skin raw, but not entirely satisfied, she’d shoved him in a chair and went to work on his hair and beard. The woman was as stubborn as Fin on a bad day, and Aidan considered taking her back with him once he found Lan. ’Twould serve Donald and Gavin right.

  Dunvegan was much changed. Evidence of Aileanna’s feminine touch was everywhere; in the rich tapestries hanging from the walls, to the flowers gracing the delicate furnishings she’d added throughout. She’d turned the once austere keep into a home—a stark contrast to Lewes. His grand plans for his own keep had never come to fruition. Repairs took coin, coin he did not have. Oh, aye, he still had the gold and silver she’d given him, but knowing it had come from the Fae, he refused to touch it.

  Rory waved him over from his place on the dais. Aidan frowned upon seeing the two wee demons sitting on either side of their mother and father. Had his cousin gone daft? Bairns were to eat in the nursery, no’ with the adults. As he wound his way through the tables, he greeted several men who had fought the Lowlanders with them. Reaching the dais, he shared a word with Fergus then warily sat himself down beside the dark-haired demon. Alex, if he remembered correctly.

  “See, lads, he’s no’ a monster.” His cousin grinned, and took a swallow of his mead.

  Aidan narrowed his gaze on him then looked over at Aileanna. “I thought yer da was to join us, Aileanna? I hope nothin’s amiss. I was lookin’ forward to seein’ him again.” He stifled a groan when Rory kicked him beneath the table.

  “Nay, a messenger arrived a short time ago. He’s been delayed for a day or two.” Jamie demanded her attention and she turned to assist her son, ignoring her husband muttering beside her.

  “Rory tells me Lan is missin’. Any idea where he was headed?” Fergus who sat beside him asked.

  The knot of guilt riding low in his belly tightened. “Aye, a couple of the lads thought he might have been on his way to London. He’s been restless of late.”

  Restless. His brother had been like a whirlpool in the loch, spinning out of control, sucking everyone down with him. And Aidan had done nothing. He’d stood back and watched as if naught were amiss. Too busy battling his own demons to deal with his brother’s. Too afraid if he peeled back the scab from the wound, anger and blame would ooze to the surface, and he’d say things he could never take back.

  “Aye, I thought I heard mention of that when last he was here. I wouldna fret, he’s a braw lad. He can handle himself.”

  Drawing comfort from Fergus’s assertion, a man Aidan greatly respected, he allowed himself to relax. As he brought the goblet of mead to his lips, the wee demon shook his arm and the ruby red liquid sloshed onto his tunic. “What?” he growled.

  Innocent blue eyes blinked up at him, and the lad pointed to the slab of beef on his platter. Aidan glanced at his cousin, who was deep in conversation with his wife. With a disgruntled sigh, he took out his dirk and cut off a piece of meat for the bairn.

  “Thank you,” Alex mumbled.

  “Ye’re welcome,” Aidan said, dabbing at the stain with the linen. Something hit him on the head then dropped into his goblet with a splash. More of the sticky liquid splattered his tunic.

  Rory looked over at him, brow arched. “I doona remember you bein’ such a messy eater.”

  Aidan glared at Alex and Jamie, who snickered behind their wee hands. “’Twas no’ me.”

  Aileanna pinned her sons with a withering glare. “I’m sorry, Aidan.” Rising from her chair, she gathered the protesting Jamie under her arm. “Nay, if you throw your food, you’ll eat in the nursery. You, too, Alex.”

  “But, Mama, I didna—”

  “I know, pet, but your brother will not stay put without you. And Mama’s too tired to be running up and down after him.”

  His cousin shot his wife a worried look. “Are you no’ feelin’ well, love?”

  Aileanna smiled. With the backs of her fingers, she stroked her husband’s cheek. They shared an intimate look, and Rory pressed her fingers to his lips.

  Sweet Christ, Iain was right. ’Twas enough to make a man gag.

  “I’m fine. Come along, Alex,” she said as she walked away.

  Alex held out his arms to Aidan.

  “What?”

  “I canna get off.” He wiggled in his chair and Aidan noted the extra padding that kept him tucked in place.

  “Fer the love of God,” he grumbled, lifting the lad into his arms. His baby soft hair tickled Aidan’s nose. When the bairn wrapped his arms tightly around Aidan’s neck, a memory of Lan at a similar age came over him. He closed his eyes at the surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.

  “Mama, Uncle Aidan cursed,” Alex said, scampering after Aileanna.

  “I did no’,” he muttered. Returning to his chair, he stabbed his meat.

  Rory chuckled. “You have a way with the bairns, cousin. Mayhap Aileanna and I should take ourselves off fer a wee while and leave you to mind them.”

  “Doona even think about it. I’ll no’ be here fer long, I have to find my brother.”

  Rory’s amusement faded. “Aye. If he was in the area, I’m certain we would’ve heard about it. Mayhap he decided to stay in London fer a while. Isna yer uncle—”

  “Aye, I sent him a missive and await his reply.”

  Rory leaned back and nursed his mead. “Why doona we give it a week or so? He’s probably makin’ his way back. In the meantime, I’ll write to some of my acquaintances and see what comes of it.”

  Aidan nodded, but he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that Laclan was in trouble.

  A week later, they received two missives from his cousin’s acquaintances and sequestered themselves in Rory’s study to review the contents.

  Aidan threw down the letter his cousin had grimly passed to him, and cursed. “We canna deny it any longer, Rory, something’s amiss. We’ve searched everywhere within a two days’ journey of Dunvegan and still there’s no sign of him.”

  Rory blew out a frustrated breath. “’Tis like he’s disappeared into thin air.”

  At his cousin’s words, a horrifying revelation came to Aidan. The memory of Syrena disappearing before his very eyes caused him to jump to his feet. The chair clattered to the floor. “The Fae! I should’ve kent it. Bloody hell, I’ll kill her if I ever get my hands on her.”

  “Aidan, calm yerself. Sit down. What do you mean the Fae? You canna tell me you actually believe i
n faeries. They doona exist, no’ in our time. ’Tis simply the imaginin’s of the old ones and bairns.”

  Aidan slumped in his chair and met his cousin’s incredulous stare. “Believe me, I wish that was all it was, but ’tis no’.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, ashamed of revealing his family’s secret. But seeing no way around it, he told the sorry tale to the two men he’d trust with his life, leaving out as much about Syrena as he could.

  An uncomfortable silence ensued then Rory asked, “Why did you never tell us this before?”

  Aidan’s harsh bark of laughter contained every ounce of bitterness reliving the tale had caused him. “’Tis no’ somethin’ one wants people to ken, Rory. My mother had an affair with a faery, my brother’s half-Fae and talked to them when he was a bairn, and my father died trying to kill him. Nay, ’tis fodder fer the gossipmongers I’d rather they no’ have.”

  “I understand that, Aidan, but ye’re like a brother to me and Iain. You didna have to go through this alone.”

  Aidan met Fergus’s sympathetic gaze. The older man laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. “The lad is right. You should’ve come to us.”

  “Well, now ye ken it all.”

  “Iain mentioned meeting a woman last year by the name of Syrena. Is she, by chance, the one you referred to as Lan’s sister?”

  Aidan lowered his gaze from his cousin’s penetrating green eyes.

  “I see,” Rory murmured as though he saw far more than Aidan wanted him to.

  His cousin and Fergus shared an assessing look. “There’s only one thing we can do. We’ll raise the faery flag. We have one wish left and we’ll use it to get Lan back.”

  Aidan slammed his fist on the desk. “Nay, Rory, nay, I’ll no’ touch anythin’ belongin’ to them. I want nothin’ to do with the Fae.” He hung his head between his hands. Sweet Christ, the last thing he wanted to do was call upon the Fae for help. But if they had Lan, how else would he get his brother back?