Highland Magic

by Donna Grant

  Frang smiled and went to follow the women when he saw a group of guards walk through the postern door. He glanced at the woman to find her waiting for him. His instinct prodded him to discover more about the laird and his need for Kenna's herbs, and despite his wish to relieve his aching rod, the information was more valuable. With a growl of frustration, Frang followed the soldiers.

  When he stepped into the outer bailey he was amazed at the amount of people who lived within the castle walls. Wallace may not have a large castle, but he kept his people safe.

  No one stopped Frang as he wandered aimlessly taking in all aspects of the outer bailey before he once more returned to the inner bailey. His gaze went to the castle as he again wondered why Wallace needed so much linden from Kenna.

  If Kenna wouldn't tell him, maybe the guards would. He walked to the group he had seen earlier. It didn't take them long to notice him.

  "Halt,” one burly Highlander called.

  Frang stopped and smiled. “Good afternoon, lads. I was passing through and thought I would stop and see the great Wallace castle."

  Just as he suspected, his words made the men puff up. “Aye,” the burly man stated. “We are the Wallace clan. Who are ye?"

  "Frang Malcolm,” he said with a sweeping bow.

  "Yer a long way from Malcolm lands."

  Frang straightened and let his gaze touch each of the soldiers. “I'm sowing some wild oats.” He grinned and waited.

  He didn't have long to wait. The burly man laughed and stepped aside. “I remember sowing some wild oats meself,” he said as he handed Frang a mug of ale.

  "Ye still are sewing ‘em, Rory."

  Rory chuckled and raised his mug before he tilted it to his lips.

  Frang settled against the wall beside Rory and took a long drink of the ale. Getting next to them had been easy. Convincing them to tell him castle secrets was another.

  But he wasn't a Druid High Priest for nothing.

  * * * *

  Kenna told herself she wasn't going to the castle to spy on Frang, she was going to deliver the herbs her laird needed. If she happened to see Frang while she was there, so be it. If not, she certainly wouldn't search him out.

  The sun was sinking fast in the sky when she reached the huge gates of Wallace castle.

  "'Tis late, Kenna,” one of the guards said.

  She nodded hello to the guard. “Aye. I came as soon as I could."

  Without waiting for the guard to comment, she walked through the gate and into the bailey. The castle stood before her like a stone giant. Inside, a powerful laird waited for her.

  Her hands shook as she continued towards the castle, looking neither left nor right as many of the vendors headed home. Her steps didn't falter as she climbed the steep steps to the castle door. It wasn't until she reached for the door that her legs began to quake. Before she could push on the door, it was yanked open.

  And she found herself staring at the Wallace.

  "Kenna,” he said with a bright smile. His golden hair was pulled away from his face and held at the nape of his neck by a strip of leather. “You've come late."

  She stepped inside the castle. “Aye. I knew you wanted the herbs as soon as I could find them."

  His dark eyes raked over her. “You're just in time for the evening meal. Come. Sit by me,” he said as he took the basket from her and handed it to a guard near the door.

  Kenna let him lead her to the dais at the back of the great hall. Her gaze roamed over the hall noting the many guards standing against the walls.

  "That is new,” she commented, nodding to the large tapestry hanging behind the dais. It showed a great battle scene with a man being crowned in the middle.

  "Aye. James’ wife finished it just a few days ago. Do you like it?"

  She nodded as she looked over the work. She knew James and his wife well since they had been trying unsuccessfully to get with child. “Very much."

  He beamed. “I'll be sure to let James’ wife know. She's very fond of you."

  Kenna grew uneasy at his words. Why would he care what she thought of the tapestry? She hesitated when she saw he planned to sit her on his left, a place that was saved for a wife.

  "Something amiss?"

  She looked into his dark eyes. He had a face of an angel, but she feared his heart was that of the devil. “Nay,” she finally answered. “I'm just surprised I've been given such a high honour."

  He waited until she sat before he lowered himself into his chair and turned to her. “You are our healer, Kenna. You are prized among the people. I only show you the respect you deserve."

  "Thank you.” Her voice shook and she hoped he took it to mean she was flattered not frightened out of her wits. She swallowed and gripped her hands together under the table. “I hope I haven't interfered with anything."

  His brows furrowed. “I beg your pardon?"

  "You were leaving the castle when you found me."

  "Ah.” He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It is nothing that cannot wait. I'm so very pleased that you are here."

  She lowered her gaze, unable to hold his. She was saved from having to say anything by the arrival of the food. Thankfully, most of her laird's attention was taken by his first in command seated on his other side.

  Yet, Kenna enjoyed her meal. It was the first time in quite awhile that she hadn't fixed her own meal. Her gaze roamed leisurely around the great hall taking in the laughter and merriment of the occupants, giving her entertainment as she ate.

  "You look amused."

  Wallace's voice close to her ear made her start. She shrugged. “I enjoy watching people."

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he looked out over the great hall. “It must be hard to live alone."

  "Sometimes,” she admitted.

  He turned fully towards her. “You should have more meals here at the castle with me."

  Kenna laughed, flattered. “I do not like returning home so late."

  "Another reason to live within my walls, Kenna. Then I could see you whenever I wanted."

  There were times Kenna knew she could be a little naïve, but this wasn't one of them. It was obvious by the way Wallace stared at her that he wanted much more than her company at mealtimes.

  She cleared her throat. “I heard a rumour a couple of months back that you had found a bride."

  He shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. “Nay. I've not taken a bride."

  This time Kenna smiled. “Not taking a bride is vastly different than finding one."

  "Oh, I found one. She just hasn't agreed yet.” His voice was smooth, seductive.

  Kenna shifted in her seat. “I hope she agrees soon, my laird. ‘Tis been awhile since the castle has had a mistress."

  "Never fear, my sweet. I plan to give the Wallace clan a new mistress verra soon."

  With her mind reeling, Kenna turned her head ... and spotted Frang amid some of the soldiers. And with a woman on each leg. Her stomach knotted and her heart plummeted to her feet as she stared at his profile. Vaguely, she realised what she felt was jealousy, jealousy over a man she barely knew and didn't trust.

  But he had been hers for a precious week. Hers. Her own.

  She hurriedly turned her head away before Frang noticed her gaze. Dimly, she heard Wallace talking, but she was trying desperately to get the image of Frang with two women out of her mind.

  "Kenna?"

  She jerked her head to her laird. “Did you say something?"

  "Aye. Since it is so late I asked if you'd like to stay the night."

  She nodded, her mind already back on Frang and his easy conquest of the women. Were they the first two he'd had? Or had he already had a few women? He'd said he was coming to the castle for market, but he must have come for other reasons. She felt so stupid to have thought he wanted her, for if he had, he would have tried to kiss her.

  When Wallace extended his hand to her, Kenna took it without thought and let him pull her
from the table. She followed him to the chairs before the hearth. All the while he talked, but she never heard a word.

  She refused to look to where she had last seen Frang. Indeed, she kept her eyes trained on the roaring fire as its orange and blue flames leapt skyward as if they would break way. Kenna understood their need much more than she wanted. For she understood what the flames did not. She was trapped.

  A touch on her arm brought her out of her thoughts. She looked up to find Wallace holding her hand, a small smile on his lips.

  She let her gaze wonder over his face with his square jaw, a roguish chin with a dimple in the middle. His nose held a bit of patrician in its long, lean lines. His dark eyes were wide set and regarded her with intensity.

  "Everyone is retiring for the night."

  "Oh.” She jumped to her feet and turned towards the hall. Her gaze unwittingly went to the spot she had last seen Frang. He was no longer there. He was no longer even in the great hall she noted as she let her gaze sweep over the people.

  Just as well, she thought as she started to look for a place to sleep for the night.

  "Where are you going, Kenna?"

  She glanced over her shoulder. “To find a place to sleep, of course."

  In the next instant, he had captured her hand again. His need to touch her unsettled her, but she kept her expression bland as she turned to him.

  "You aren't sleeping down here. I've had a chamber prepared for you."

  Her mouth opened, but he put a finger to her lips. “Shh...” he whispered. “Let me take care of you."

  Kenna stood stock still as his finger traced the line of her lips. There was no denying it now. He wanted her. She trembled and saw Wallace smile.

  "Aye, you feel it to, don't you? In a few months we can make it known that you'll be my new bride. No one will be surprised."

  No one but me.

  Kenna didn't object when he led her up the stairs to her chamber. With her heart drumming in her chest, she prayed he wouldn't try to kiss her. When they reached the chamber, he opened the door and brought her inside.

  "Do you approve?"

  Kenna glanced around the room noting the dark green bed hangings, the chest at the foot of the bed, small pegs in the wall and the table and chair by the hearth.

  "'Tis very nice. Thank you."

  "Only the best for you,” he said.

  Her breath lodged in her throat as he walked to her. She nearly let out a loud sigh when he grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. “Until the morn, my sweet."

  Kenna counted to twenty after he left before she walked to the door and bolted it. She leaned against the wood and covered her face with her hands.

  Most women would be overjoyed to find their laird had picked them for his bride. But not Kenna. As she explored her feelings against Wallace she knew part of it was because of his need for the linden, but that could be forgiven.

  What, then, kept her from embracing the future he offered her? She would no longer be alone. She'd have an entire clan to look after, much as she already did, but in a different manner. She'd have a husband with whom she could grow old, and hopefully children to fill her days with laughter.

  But deep in her heart, she knew she'd be better off alone than as the Wallace's bride.

  She pushed off the door and slowly walked to the bed. Her mind wandered to Frang. It had felt like a knife in her chest to see him with those women, and for the rest of meal she alternated between wanting him to see her and hoping he didn't. Her hand grazed the dark green coverlet. Suddenly, she was weary to the bone. She crawled onto the bed and let her eyes drift shut.

  With all her might she wished herself to sleep, to drift in the darkness unaware and unfeeling. Even if only for a brief time.

  Chapter Nine

  Frang gently pulled his arm from underneath the woman's head and crawled over another until he stood by the door. He cursed himself for ten kinds of fool for not taking his pleasure with one, or both, of the women. He had told himself he needed information, but the simple truth was all he could think of was Kenna. It had been easy to get them drunk, and all the while he had played the sotted fool.

  But acting drunk had revealed several secrets.

  With one last look at the sleeping women, he walked from the small cottage. His gaze scanned the outer bailey, but the only movement he saw was the guards walking the battlements.

  Using the shadows, he crept slowly and silently to the postern door that led to the inner bailey. The guards he had drunk with at the evening meal were slumped against the wall, their snores loudly filling the air.

  Frang chuckled to himself and kept to the shadows as he moved into the bailey. Just like a ghost he crept around the castle until he came to the kitchen entrance.

  Carefully, gradually, he opened the door and hurriedly stepped inside. The kitchen was thankfully deserted. He grabbed a loaf of bread and tore off a piece as he walked to the entrance into the great hall. As he stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth, he wondered if Kenna was safe and alone in her cottage. Many times he'd felt eyes on him during the meal, but every time he had tried to turn to have a look at the laird and to see who was watching him, the women repeatedly distracted him.

  How he wished he knew of another way to get to the Wallace's secret chamber he had learned about. There was, without a doubt, another way, but Frang didn't have the time to wander the castle. He needed his proof before he confronted Kenna in the morn.

  At the kitchen doorway, he stood and surveyed the great hall. Bodies were everywhere. Some slept on the floor while others used the benches. In the corners, grouped together or alone, it didn't matter.

  He picked his way cautiously through the bodies. Mid-way across the great hall he spotted a couple kissing, the woman's skirts bunched at her waist and her arse bared as she rose and lowered herself on the man's rod.

  It was all Frang could do not to groan aloud as he imagined the couple was him and Kenna. He could return to Kenna and take his pleasure except for the need to uncover the truth. Damn his righteousness.

  He tamped down his desire for Kenna and continued through the great hall until he came to the stairs. Once again, he kept to the shadows and made his way up to the third floor. He looked down one corridor then the next to make sure no one was coming. As soon as he saw it was safe, he turned left and hurried to the stairs at the end of the hallway.

  At the base of the stairs he listened, trying to discern if there was anyone was in the tower. After a moment, he crept up the stairs, his hand on the dagger on his hip in case he encountered anyone.

  When he found the door, he stopped. The wooden door stood slightly ajar. Frang unsheathed his dagger and pushed the door open with his toe. His gaze scanned the tower, but seeing no one, he stepped inside.

  He walked slowly around the tower taking in all he saw. It was much worse than he'd imagined. Much, much worse. The question was, was Kenna involved in it or was she an unwilling accomplice?

  His finger reached out and touched the linden still in Kenna's basket.

  Kenna's basket?

  His stomach constricted painfully. She was here, or had been. The implication that she had waited until he left to come to the castle did not bode well for her innocence. And why would she come when she knew he was going to be here?

  Granted, he had spent little time in the castle except for the meal, and then he had made sure the women were on his lap and his back to the dais so the Wallace wouldn't take notice of him.

  Still, it rankled him that she had deceived him.

  He turned to leave when his gaze landed on a large black tome. His breath left his body in a rush as he rushed towards the book, stumbling over a stool in the process. He stretched out a hand to touch the book and saw his hand shaking.

  Frang opened his mouth to call to Aimery then realised he couldn't. He was no longer immortal. His call would most likely go unheard. He was on his own now.

  He focused back on the tome. “Unbelievable,” he murmu
red as he stroked a finger over the black leather.

  The book was three hand's high and two wide and at least a half a hand thick. All around the edges was the intricate knot work of the Fae, and in the middle of the tome was a large black stone with a blood red centre.

  "The Book of Magic,” he whispered into the silent tower.

  There was no doubt in his mind what the Wallace was doing now. He looked out the window and saw the black sky giving way to grey.

  He had to get to Kenna and get some answers before he decided what to do about the book.

  * * * *

  Kenna woke sometime before dawn unable to find the blessed darkness again. She looked over to the floor wishing she saw Frang sleeping there, but the stones were devoid of anything, even warmth.

  She turned onto her back and looked at the top of the bed. When had her life become so ... empty? Had it always been so, and just become more apparent lately because Frang had been with her?

  There were no answers, though she didn't expect any. She sat up and plucked at her skirts. She wished she had confided in Frang when she'd had the chance. Now she would have to deal with the Wallace on her own.

  She feared he wouldn't take no for an answer. Yet, she had little choice. Before she changed her mind, she jumped from the bed and ran from the chamber. Her shoes pounded on the stone, but she didn't slow. She couldn't. She'd lose her nerve if she did.

  When she came to the tower, she stopped at the stairs, her hand to her throat. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she started up the stairs. When she reached the top she stood in shock at the open door.

  Hesitantly she peered inside but didn't find the Wallace or anyone else. She stepped into the tower and spotted her basket near the window. Her feet rushed forward as she grabbed the basket and turned to leave.

  But that's when she saw the huge tome.

  Kenna slowly turned around and looked at the book. Brigit had spoken of a tome that looked very much like the one she stared at. Unable to stop herself, she lifted the cover and gazed at the words in neat, bold lines that read The Book of Magic.

  Surprise turned her blood to ice. The book was supposed to be a myth, but if her laird had it, it could only mean dangerous things for her and the rest of the clan. She quickly snatched up the heavy book and ran from the tower, stumbling in her haste and nearly falling down the curving stairs.