Highland Archer

by Hildie McQueen

  Arrow dashed to him, his tongue lolling out of the corner of his mouth, his tail wagging. He bent down to rub the animal’s flanks then went to pick up a stick. His dog followed alongside. “Steaphan. There you are.”

  An attractive young woman came to him and threaded her arm through his. Her hazel eyes looked to him and moved quickly away, a pretty blush across her face. She pulled him forward to continue walking. “I was thinking about what you said this morning. I know very little about how it must be for you to have recovered your brother after all this time. But my advice is that you give him time and space. I am sure he cares for you. Especially being twins. Whatever bond was between you, surely a part of it remains.” She leaned onto his arm as he attempted to explain he was not Steaphan. With a sigh, she whispered, “I have to admit something. I am beginning to care for you. It is too soon to admit to love, but with time, I think you and I will find it.” She looked up to him, her lips pursed and her gaze slid over his face.

  Suddenly her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “Oh!” She moved away, her face instantly red. “You are not Steaphan. I—I…”

  “I see you’ve met my brother,” Steaphan said, attempting to keep from laughing by the way his lips trembled when he pressed them together.

  Valent cleared his throat. “I apologize for not making it clear. You did not allow me time to speak.”

  “What?” She jabbed her finger into his chest. “You could have interrupted me. Made it clear who you were.” Steaphan’s wife spun on her heel and did the same to Steaphan. “And you. Why didn’t you tell me your brother was identical to you?”

  Steaphan chuckled before replying. “It didn’t occur to me.” He yelped and jumped to one foot when she kicked him in the shin and stalked away.

  “Your wife is a hellion,” Valent grumbled rubbing at his chest. “Has strong fingers.”

  “Aye, she is,” Steaphan replied with a wide grin.

  Valent could not help but relax around his brother. What Fiona spoke about suddenly rang true. He did feel a bond with his brother. Being near him was like reuniting with a part of his own body.

  Steaphan walked toward the keep gates. “Going for a walk?”

  “Aye, I needed time to ponder what I would say to you today. It is hard for me to accept anything you offer. I do not feel part of your family, yet now I understand more how you, our father, and Sorcha suffered my loss. I have made a decision, brother.”

  Valent and his brother looked to each other for a long moment. It astounded him how easily he could read Steaphan’s thoughts. The emotions reflected in the face, so much like his, touched him deeper than anything he’d ever known.

  When Steaphan embraced him, Valent lowered his guard and held him. For the first time in his life, he understood what having a family was like.

  * * *

  Although it was an unusually warm day for late in the autumn, there was a chill in her that refused to be dispelled. Lily pulled her wrap tighter around her shoulders as she descended the stairs and walked through the great room, intent on going to the garden to gather herbs to use to make medicinal salve for one of the guards who’d complained about a wound he’d received during practice.

  Laughter rung out, the deep timbre could only be Ceardac’s. Lily froze in place, looking towards his study. It seemed whatever he spoke of with his ever-present friend, Murray, made him laugh so loud it echoed through the great room. Murray’s laughter joined in with whatever they spoke of.

  The sound of him having a light moment made her lips curve. Of all people, he deserved to have a good day, after all that he’d been forced to shoulder. Then there was the grief of losing his brothers and many of the guardsmen he’d grown up with. Ceardac, the second born son to the McLeod never aspired to becoming laird. He’d been the most easygoing of the three brothers. He’d always kept an eye on her and Ariana.

  She hurried past the study, intent on getting to the garden without being spotted. Her eyes misted at knowing how much she’d miss the sound of his voice and the glimpses of him at the evening meals.

  The dry leaves crunched under her shoes as she made her way through the courtyard to the garden, the sun warming her back. Lily let out a breath and looked across the area to where the men trained and spied Ariana with her bow and quiver. Her friend, no doubt, was taking advantage of the warmth of the day to practice.

  Lily considered that perhaps she, too, should learn archery or some sort of self-protection. If ever she was faced with an attack again, she wanted to be prepared to defend herself and not cower when faced with someone intent on hurting her.

  “Are you considering taking up archery?” Ceardac’s voice startled her and she dropped her basket. He bent to retrieve it, which gave her the opportunity to admire the wide expanse of his back and the glimmer of the sun’s rays on his auburn hair.

  “As a matter of fact, I was. I am going to ask Ariana to help me. If ever I am somewhere that is under attack again, I will join with the men and defend the home.” She jutted her chin out to challenge any retort.

  Ceardac’s lips quivered. “You’ve always done that. Whenever you set your mind to something and do not wish to be contradicted, you stick out that pointy chin of yours and squint your eyes.”

  “I do not squint.” Lily gasped at the unattractive image he painted. “Do I?” Her eyes rounded and she sniffed. “It does not matter. Do not answer.”

  When Lily reached for the basket, he held it out of her reach. “I need to speak to you about some news I received just now.”

  It struck her as interesting that after Murray, she was his choice of who to share the news with. “Why do you share it with me? I heard you laughing. If it is good news, perhaps you should include Ariana as well.”

  “She is aware and insisted I speak to you.”

  Lily looked past him to where Ariana stood. She’d stopped practicing and watched them with interest. A tingle of dread crawled up her spine. “What is it?”

  “You look as if you are expecting horrible news. Perhaps it is. I am not sure.” Ceardac’s brows lowered and he seemed to have lost some of his confidence. “The thing is. Well, what happened was…” He raked his fingers through his hair and motioned to a bench. “Perhaps it is best if we sit.”

  He was sending her away. She’d not considered that in her new position as a friend of the family, he had every right to marry her off in order to make an alliance with another clan. She gripped her hands together in her lap and kept her gaze lowered.

  Ceardac let out a breath. “A messenger came from the Grant. It seems my intended has locked herself in the tower and refuses to leave unless the laird acquiesces to her demands.”

  Damn her curious nature. Lily looked to him, waiting for him to continue the interesting tale. “What does she want?”

  “She refuses to wed someone other than her one true love. The Grant sent a profuse apology. The very spoiled chit refused to eat or drink until he agreed to allow her to marry one of the guardsmen. It seems I have been replaced.”

  He let out a deep breath and held both hands to his chest as if in deep pain. “I must find a replacement for wife who will accept me. What am I to do?”

  Lily giggled and shoved at his shoulder. “You are glad for it. Admit it.”

  His grin made her smile back. “It is for the best, I think.”

  “I also have made up my mind not to make a rash decision like I did by accepting the Grant’s proposal when so much was happening. I almost lost my chance at marrying a much more suitable wife.”

  The lightness of the moment was gone and Lily’s heart sank. She’d not noticed Ceardac speaking with anyone who would be suitable. Perhaps during his visit to Skye he’d met someone. “I am happy for you.” Lily stood, prepared to return inside and busy herself in the kitchen to avoid thinking on the matter.

  Ceardac took her hand, the warmth of his larger one causing a tingle of pleasure to rush to her chest. “Lily. Will you marry me?”

  Her legs gave
out and she half-fell back onto the bench. “Did you just ask me to marry you? Have you gone daft? A laird cannot wed with a maid. No matter what Ariana calls me…”

  He quieted her protests by pulling her to him by the shoulders and covering her mouth with his.

  In front of everyone in the courtyard, Ceardac McLeod kissed her like no one had ever done and she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck.

  When he finally released her, she had to blink in order to see clearly. This had to be a dream. Several of the guards and other people gawked at their open display and she flushed, her face heating.

  Ceardac’s crooked smile sent new waves of emotion through her and tears threatened to spill. She nodded and laughed, unable to control her emotions.

  He pressed a soft kiss on her nose. “I take it your answer is yes?”

  “Yes.” Lily laughed and hugged him. Over his shoulder she caught sight of Ariana’s bright smile.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Steaphan pulled his tartan up, wrapping a portion of the fabric around his neck. Winter was rapidly approaching and he was behind in visiting his tenants and ensuring they were all well prepared for the colder season.

  Niven rode alongside, as well as eight warriors, as they made their way to a small farm community on the southern border of McKenzie lands. This was the community that had lost four men on the day Beathan McLeod ordered his men to kill them for hunting on McLeod lands. The poor men were without hope as they were farmers who’d mistakenly trespassed.

  Calum, an older man, waved in greeting as they neared. The farmer who’d farmed his entire life, as his father and father’s father, was a friendly sort. He often hosted the other families for meals and such.

  “Aye, Laird. Nice to see you. Congratulations are in order. I hear ye got married.” The man chuckled and motioned to his wife Jane. “’Tis a good thing to settle down with a good woman, aye?”

  “It is Calum,” Steaphan replied and dismounted, noticing several farmers gathering at seeing them approach.

  Calum pulled a young lad by the arm and pointed a finger at him. “I give ye great responsibility, lad. Fetch the others and let them know our laird is here. They must come and hear what news he brings.”

  The boy’s chest puffed out at the duty he’d received and raced away, several other boys chasing after.

  “Come in. Come in.” Calum swept his arms towards the doorway where his wife stood beaming at them. “I have a new jug of mead the wife just made.”

  Half an hour later, most of the farmers were gathered at the home and Steaphan went out to address them. After dispensing some grain, he reminded them to remain within the borders. Additionally, he granted them permission to hunt further north in the lands surrounding the keep. He set to task and asked questions of each family until being satisfied they would all be fed well during the winter. It was hours later that he and his men prepared to leave.

  “There is something I’d like to speak to ye about in private, Laird.” Calum’s solemn eyes went to Niven and the other guardsmen.

  “Of course,” Steaphan replied as an unexplainable trickle of apprehension traveled up his spine. They walked a few steps from the others. “What bothers you?”

  The man studied his face for a long time as if searching for an answer without having to speak the question. “Laird, when we were attacked by the McLeods, I saw something that has bothered me since. I ’aven’t told a soul because no one would believe it.”

  “Go on.”

  “The McLeods who attacked, amongst them was an archer. He was identical in features to you. How can that be?”

  Steaphan couldn’t help his sharp intake of breath. “Did he kill anyone?”

  “He pierced poor Ludlow, who was already dead with an arrow. Here’s the thing. I do believe he attempted to distract the others from seeing that our young Ewan was still alive.”

  “We ensured that every man who attacked you that day paid for what they did.”

  Calum seemed to ponder what he’d said to him. “Verra well, Laird. I will not speak of it. You know who he is.”

  It was not a question, but Steaphan nodded. “Aye. I do.”

  “Yer missing brother then?”

  “Aye.”

  The farmer nodded and wiped a weathered hand down his face. “Strange lots life can deal sometimes.”

  “Darach followed orders, as a guardsman for the McLeods. He was not aware of his relationship with us. He knows now. It is good to hear he attempted to help in some way.”

  “What did the farmer have to say?” Niven asked once he mounted and they headed to another area. “It seemed serious.”

  Steaphan looked back to the farmer who watched them depart. “Darach…er Valent was amongst those who attacked the hunters.”

  “Old man Calum saw him,” Niven deduced. “This could become complicated for Valent.”

  “Perhaps. Valent has made a decision, which comes at a good time. He will not be in danger of retaliation from our people for the time being. When I see him, I will tell him it is imperative he make amends to these farmers for that day.”

  * * *

  “Fiona!” Steaphan entered his chambers and, once again, called for his wife. She was neither in the great room nor in the sitting room. He’d scoured the courtyard and gardens and did not find her. Finally he stalked to his mother’s room.

  Lorna looked up as he walked in and scowled. “She is not here, either.”

  With clenched fists he neared the aggravating woman. “What did you do?”

  His mother looked out the window and sighed. “Things were much easier when you were younger. You were simpler to manage. Your father, God rest his soul, rarely challenged my requests.”

  “I asked you a question.” He gripped her shoulder. “Where is Fiona?”

  “Away. I sent her away.” Lorna laughed, the sound without mirth grated at his already tender hold on anger. If she were a man, he would have already smashed his fist into the center of her face.

  “Mother, tell me at once where she was taken.”

  Lorna straightened her back and glared at him. “Never.” Spittle landed on his face and he lifted his hand to wipe it. Mistaking that he planned to hit her, she screamed and jumped away. “You will thank me for this, Steaphan. You cannot think I would stand by and allow a McLeod to run my household.”

  “You are mad.” He rushed from the room, stopping the first guard he found. “Go get all the guards into the courtyard at once. Then return here. Guard the doorway and do not, under any circumstances, allow my mother to leave.”

  “Aye, Laird.” The guard ran to do as told.

  Steaphan stalked before his guards. “I am laird, not my mother. If any of you followed her direction against my wife, you will be punished and exiled from my lands. Where is my wife?” he screamed.

  One guard stepped forward. “I was up on the top, Laird.” He motioned to the turrets. “I saw yer wife leaving in a wagon with two men and her maid. I thought, perhaps, she went to the village.”

  “In what direction?” Steaphan looked to see that Niven was mounted and pulled a horse for him.

  “East, Laird.”

  “Come, you four.” He motioned to four guardsmen and then glared at the rest. “You are all restricted to the keep for the next seven days. Train for six hours a day and then another two after the evening meal. God help you all if anything happened to my wife.”

  Leaving two guards in charge of administering the training, he and the party of five raced east.

  The sun was setting and Steaphan was wild with fury at not spotting whoever took Fiona. He imagined the worst and, once again, hated himself for not demanding his mother tell him where she sent his wife.

  “I cannot think straight,” he admitted to Niven. “I should have insisted she tell me where Fiona was being taken.”

  Niven scanned the horizon. “Is there a dwelling near here that your mother may be aware of? Or perhaps people she visited on occasion in this region?
”

  “No…” His eyes widened. “It can’t be.” Steaphan spurred the horse toward the forest. “Come, there is a place about an hour’s ride from here. God help my mother if even a hair on my wife’s head has been touched.”

  Niven finally caught up. “Where do you think she is?”

  “There is a group of heretics that live near here. Long ago, my father granted them permission to live at the edge of the forest as long as they remained away from the clanspeople and didn’t cause any harm.”

  He thought for a moment before continuing. “For some reason, after Darach went missing, my mother became interested in them and began visiting them. I followed her once and she became very upset. Demanded that I keep silent.”

  “As far as I know they are peaceful people,” Niven said, attempting to calm him. “Do not rush in with sword drawn. Perhaps your mother threatened them.”

  They arrived at the quaint circle of cottages. Several women with loosed hair and long, colorful skirts rushed inside the dwellings while the men came out to await their arrival. Steaphan noticed none of them held a weapon.

  “Who are you?” a man who was obviously the leader of the group asked, moving forward. “You trespass our circle, which is strictly forbidden.”

  “I am Laird McKenzie,” Steaphan called out. “I come in search of my wife. Is she here?”

  The men looked to each other. Steaphan dismounted. “Speak. If you do not, I will forfeit my father’s permission to remain on my lands.”

  The same man closed the distance between them. “The laird’s own wife told us we were to host the woman. That she was evil and needed cleansing. She promised to return to witness us perform the ritual in seven days.”

  Steaphan gritted his teeth. “The woman who spoke to you is my mother. She has no authority to have my wife brought here. Where is my wife?” He glared at the man who moved back and motioned with a hand toward the tents.