“Keira could be anywhere,” he said, turning the conversation back to the matter of finding her sister. “She was hurt and afraid when she left Ardgleann. How can ye ken where she is hiding?”
“Our bond, remember.” Alana hid a yawn behind her hand and felt the fog of approaching sleep start to cloud her mind. “And aye, she was hurt. Of that I have no doubt. So, how far could she go? I ken she would have gotten herself off Ardgleann lands, but after that, I dinnae think she would have gone much further. If we head for Scarglas, I am certain I will be able to, er, sniff her out, although I dinnae ken how I can be so certain of that. I just am.”
Gregor was not sure how she could know such a thing, either, but felt no urge to question her certainty. She was planning to head in the very direction he wanted her to go—toward Scarglas. Although he was not yet absolutely sure this was the woman who fit, as Sigimor was wont to say, he grew more so every day. He wanted to get her to Scarglas, and he strongly suspected that by the time they reached his home, he would be wanting to keep her there.
He raised his head and peered over her shoulder, smiling faintly when he saw that she had fallen asleep while he had been tangled up in his own thoughts. The cat was curled up against her chest, its head upon her breasts. Her slim arm was curled protectively around the beast. Gregor shook his head as he gently settled himself against Alana’s back, grimacing as she nestled her backside against his still-aching groin. It was going to be a long night. If at all possible they would leave in the morning, he decided. Too many more hours spent alone with Alana in the cottage, curled against her all night and close to her all day with little to distract him, would surely cause him to lose his mind. It was time to head home.
Chapter 7
“We cannae take the cat, Alana.”
“We cannae leave the poor lad behind, Gregor. ’Twould be too cruel.”
Gregor stared down at the cat that sat by Alana’s feet, leaning slightly against her leg and purring. The animal had the wit to choose the best ally, he thought. He, too, had not liked the idea of leaving the animal behind. Since the cat obviously had been treated like a pet by the previous owner of the cottage, he suspected it would not fare well on its own. However, he had accepted the cold fact that it had to be done since he and Alana had a long, hard journey ahead of them, on foot and with the Gowans undoubtedly hunting them. They could not take a cat along on such a journey. Alana and the cat obviously thought otherwise.
“A cat cannae make such a journey,” he said, feeling compelled to offer one last protest.
“Weel, ’tis verra possible he may wander off or the like, and I ken we cannae waste any time hunting for him, but at least we can try to bring him along. I can carry him in a sling I can make from a blanket so we dinnae have to fret o’er his ability to keep up with us.”
“I believe I will fret o’er being caught by the Gowans again instead.”
He had to bite back a laugh at the disgusted look she gave him. She even glanced worriedly at the cat as if afraid the beast might have been offended by so callous a remark. The cat looked smug.
“People dinnae take cats on journeys,” he said.
“Aye, they do. My cousin Gillyanne always takes her cats with her whenever she travels. And my Aunt Elspeth also traveled with a cat. ’Tisnae so unusual.”
Gregor decided it would not be wise to say what he was thinking, that just because her kinswomen did something did not mean it was normal. “Ye must agree, here and now, that we willnae waste any time looking for or waiting for the beastie, at least nay until we are off the Gowans’ lands. I willnae be sent back into that pit for the sake of that cat.”
“Agreed. He will be a good wee traveler. I am certain of it.”
Shaking his head, Gregor helped her tie on a blanket so that it formed a sling that hung down her front. It surprised him a little when the cat calmly allowed itself to be put inside. Alana then willingly accepted the pack of her belongings and supplies, but Gregor was determined to keep a close eye on her. She was only four days healed of her fever and he did not want her growing too weary.
After shutting up the cottage, he started on his way, Alana walking calmly at his side. They had walked for several miles before Gregor gave in to the urge to look at her. She walked at a good, steady pace and showed no sign of weakening. What made him swiftly look away, however, was the sight of the cat. It sat comfortably in the sling, facing forward, with little more than its head sticking out of the folds of the blanket. Neither the cat nor Alana seemed to think it was odd of them to travel so. Gregor was afraid that, if he looked too often, he would soon start laughing too hard to keep walking.
He began to wonder if he was a little odd as well. Every instinct he had told him this little woman was right, that she fit. Even when he listed her weaknesses, such as a fear of the dark and of heights, he quickly recalled how she had never given in to either fear. Tiny though she was, she was obviously strong and hardy. The fever had laid her low, but only for a short while, and he could see no real weakness there. She simply did not have the bulk needed to fight the effects of penetrating cold and damp for days at a time. Gregor was still somewhat surprised that he had not taken ill as well.
There was, in fact, nothing he could say or think about her that could dim the attraction he felt for her. She was utterly different from any woman he had ever known, yet he found those differences only fascinated him. Despite the unfed desire he suffered from, he was at ease with her and he trusted her. He could not say the same of any of the women in his past. Even Mavis did not make him feel completely at ease, and he did not know her well enough to say that he trusted her, either. All the more reason to back away before the betrothal between them was finalized.
“I wish I had hidden the bulk of my coin more cleverly,” Alana said as she idly scratched the cat’s head.
Yanked abruptly from his thoughts, Gregor had to think about what Alana had just said for a moment before asking, “Why?”
“Weel, so that the Gowans didnae find so much. More coin would surely aid us now. It might even buy us a horse.”
“Ye brought a heavy purse with ye, did ye?”
“Heavy enough. A horse would make this journey a great deal easier.”
“True, but it could also help the Gowans find us.”
“Ah, of course.” Alana nodded slowly. “A horse would leave a much clearer trail to follow.”
“It would,” said Gregor. “It would also be something they could all too easily hear about.”
“True, especially whilst we still linger upon their lands. Do ye ken where their boundaries lie?”
“Nay, I can but guess.”
“Mayhap we could stop in a village and ask someone.”
Gregor shook his head. “If ’tis a village upon Gowan land, we could easily find ourselves caught and held for the laird. It has been a sennight since we escaped, and word of that could have spread far and wide in that time. We shall have to try our best to stay out of sight of anyone, e’en the poorest shepherd, until I can be more certain of where we are.”
“And if we cannae stop at a village or speak to anyone, that will be a lot harder to do, aye?”
“Aye, I fear so. I ken which direction to head in, but I am nay sure how far from my original path I was taken. Do ye ken where ye were when they caught ye or how far and in which direction ye were taken?”
“Nay, I fear I dinnae. Do recall that I was following my brothers, nay making my own way, and I lost them, didnae I.” She shook her head, hating to admit that, but knowing it was foolish to keep denying it. “When the Gowans first rode up, I was that surprised that it wasnae my brothers coming to say, Ha! We have caught ye out, Wren! ’Twould be just like them to do such a wretched thing once they caught me following them. But ’tis just as weel they werenae close at hand.”
“Why do ye say that? They might have succeeded in keeping ye out of the hands of the Gowans.”
“Aye, but then there probably would have been a lot
of dead Gowans and, annoying though they were, I am nay sure they deserved that harsh a punishment.”
Gregor stared at her, not sure if she was boasting or not. “Ye seem most sure of that.”
Alana nodded. “Verra sure. My brothers are verra good fighters and a little too quick to anger. They would have seen what the Gowans did as a grave insult. They trained with some of my mother’s kinsmen who live deep in the Highlands in some verra remote and rough places. Since Donncoill is fair to bursting with Murray lads, my father offered anyone who wished it a chance to train elsewhere. My brothers thought it would suit them weel to do so. They saw it as a chance to have an adventure. They returned as weel-trained warriors, but were verra rough and wild in their ways. Papa has worked verra hard to civilize them a wee bit.”
“Civilize them? I would have thought that fierce warriors who dinnae quail at the thought of a hard fight would be most welcome at any keep.”
“Oh, my father doesnae wish to change that. ’Tis just that, weel, it did appear as if that was all they were trained to do. As Papa says, he sent off two beardless boys who had a few manners, and got back two savages who think a discussion consists of knocking a mon down until he agrees with what ye say.”
Gregor laughed. “Sounds like many of my kinsmen.”
“There is a gentleness in my brothers, but I think they wouldst rather cut out their own tongues than admit to it.” She glanced over the clothes Gregor wore, from the fine white linen shirt visible beneath his partly unlaced doublet to his elegant hose and fine boots. “They wouldnae wear such fine clothes, thinking them too English. They mostly wear their plaids and rough deer-hide boots. Mama made them don some braies beneath that plaid.” Alana smiled a little when Gregor laughed again. “She wouldnae tell me what she said or did to convince them, but she must have been verra persuasive, for they didnae argue much at all.”
“Do ye have any other siblings?”
“Aye. Four. All younger. Three other brothers and another sister. And ye?”
“Dozens. Near all of them brothers. One thing my father does weel is breed sons.” He grinned briefly at her expression as he helped her over a fallen tree branch. She looked an even mixture of shocked and intrigued. “My father wasnae faithful to any woman until he married Mab. Many think he was trying to breed his own army. A lot of us, myself and my siblings, e’en feared he was a bit mad. But, nay, ’twas an old betrayal that started him down that path. He was and is a good father, although we didnae see that clear until recently.”
“His bastards live with ye?”
“Aye, at least everyone he kens about.”
“Weel, that is verra good of him.”
“’Tis indeed, although it doesnae excuse him from recklessly breeding so many, making enemies at every turn, and being unfaithful to every woman he bedded or wedded. He still refuses to completely mend matters with our kinsmen and take back the name Cameron.”
As they walked, Gregor told Alana several tales concerning his father. Now that they no longer felt the need to hide exactly who they were, he could speak more honestly about his life and family. He could even speak about how things had changed since Fiona had come to Scarglas, and all for the better. The fact that Alana could be amused by such tales, despite her occasional shock, made him feel good in a way he could not truly describe. Gregor decided it was because there would be no difficulty in having her live at Scarglas with him if he found that he wanted her to.
They had just finished sharing a laugh over how, when there was a full moon, his father and some of the other men would daub themselves with blue paint and dance naked within a circle of stones, when they reached the edge of an open field. It was almost completely surrounded by an equally open moorland upon which sheep grazed. Gregor gently urged Alana to kneel down behind some bramble bushes while he carefully surveyed this new obstacle.
“I dinnae see anyone,” Alana said. “Not e’en around that wee cottage at the far end of the field.”
“Nay, neither do I, although one would think that someone would be about, working or tending to that flock of sheep,” he said.
“True. We could go around,” she murmured, unable to keep all of her reluctance to do so out of her voice.
“We could, but we would add several hours to our journey, which is long enough as it is.”
That was the hard truth, Alana thought with a sigh. Neither she nor Gregor might know exactly where they were, but they knew it was a very, very long walk from where they wanted to be. She briefly considered asking him to steal a horse and then hastily shook that thought aside. Necessity did not make stealing any less of a crime or a sin, unless it was done because one was starving. They were not starving. There was also the chance that stealing a horse would simply put even more people on their trail.
She wished she knew how long a journey they had to make. At least she could then mark off each day. Until they knew exactly where they were, however, that would be impossible. What they needed was some landmark, but Alana doubted they would see one soon since they had to stay away from all well-traveled routes in order to escape the Gowans.
When Gregor slowly stood up, she quickly got to her feet as well. “Do ye think it is safe to move on?”
“Nay, but we only have a few choices,” he replied. “We could stay here until dark, go round, or take our chances that we can cross that field without being seen. Or, if we are seen, that it doesnae raise any hue and cry.”
“I think we should just march boldly onward.” Alana shrugged when he looked at her and cocked one eyebrow. “A brisk march. If someone sees us, they will probably wonder o’er who is crossing their field, at least for a wee while. Then, they might hail us, but since they arenae e’en in sight now, that would probably be from a distance. We would have a head start when we have to run away.”
Gregor grinned briefly. “’Tis as good a plan as any I could come up with. Do ye think ye can run verra fast whilst carrying that cat?”
“Aye, he doesnae weigh much.”
“Then let us march boldly onward,” Gregor said as he took her by the hand and started forward across the field.
By the time they reached the other side of the field, Alana felt as if every muscle in her body was taut enough to snap with her very next step. They had not even gotten half the way across before she decided her plan had been a bad one, and she had grown more convinced of that each step of the way. A man had stepped out of the cottage, but he had only watched them. She suspected he was simply making sure that she and Gregor did not steal anything, but it had only added to her unease.
“Weel, if the Gowans come round here, they will be able to easily mark our trail,” said Gregor. “Or that mon has already set off to find them and tell them that he has seen us.”
“If he kenned the Gowans are seeking us, why didnae he come after us?” Alana asked as she cautiously edged her way around a muddy area between the edge of the fields and the small strip of moorland between them and the woods they sought.
“Why should he risk getting hurt? ’Tisnae his purse that will be enriched by our capture.”
“Ye dinnae think the Gowans are offering any boon for our capture?”
“Nay. The whole game of capture for ransom was begun because their purse was empty. I cannae think they would be willing to part with anything they have or hope to gain.”
“Nay, probably not.” She looked back at the field and the sheep. “Yet if these are part of the Gowans’ lands, they shouldnae be so desperately poor. ’Tis good land, I think, and those sheep look fat and hale.”
“The Gowan laird may nay have the wit to make the most of what he has, or these arenae his lands. I cannae believe we have already left Gowan land, however. I darenae. If nay their land, ’tis their neighbors’ or their kinsmen’s, as open to them as their own. Best we move along quickly for a while, and we should try hard to leave as little a trail as possible.”
Alana inwardly cursed the Gowans in ways that would have shocked her family
as she increased her pace. An adventure lost a great deal of its allure when one had to spend much of the time running and hiding, she decided. Since the alternative was to stop and confront the Gowans, she did not voice her complaints aloud or slow her pace. She just hoped it was not too many more miles before Gregor decided they were safely out of the reach of the Gowans.
A soft groan escaped Alana as she sat down on the mossy ground beneath a huge pine tree. She managed a faint smile as the cat climbed out of the sling and looked around. The worry that the cat would wander too far away and get lost came and went quickly. The cat had plainly hated being deserted, and Alana suspected it would stay very close at hand so that it did not get left behind again. As soon as she had rested for a little while, she would make her final decision on a name for the beast, she decided and yawned.
“Weary, lass?” Gregor asked as he sat down next to her.
“My feet certainly are,” she admitted.
“Aye, I ken that feeling weel.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer. “I concede. That cat has taken to journeying verra weel indeed,” he said, diverting her attention from how he held her close before she could venture any protest. “Of course, he hasnae had to do any walking.”
“True. I have been trying to think of a name for him.” Alana knew she ought to move out of his grasp, but she realized she had become increasingly greedy for his touch and was far too selfish to refuse it when it was given. “We cannae keep calling him the cat.”
“He doesnae seem to mind.”
“He is our fellow traveler. He deserves a proper name. Charlemagne will suit him fine, I think.” She gave Gregor a narrow-eyed look when he made a soft choking noise, for she knew he was struggling hard not to laugh out loud.
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