Sworn to a Highland Laird

by Sky Purington

  He had to help Milly embrace all of her power.

  In doing so, perhaps come into his full power as well.

  “Tell me what to do, Milly,” he said into her mind. “Tell me how to end the warlock.”

  “You can’t.” She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s possible. He’s too...sly.”

  “Anything is possible,” Adlin replied as he kept dodging the warlock’s rather weak advances with her help. “Just tell me what the key is. How to win.”

  “How am I supposed to know?” she wailed. “Aren’t you the most powerful wizard in the world?”

  “Scotland mostly,” he conceded. “And some might say Ireland.”

  “Adlin,” she groaned, tears in her eyes as the warlock came at him hard. He had powerful magic, he would give him that, but he was starting to suspect Grant was right. This wasn’t the strongest magic he ever felt.

  “This is something you and I can beat, Milly,” he said as he ducked and twirled away, never losing eye contact with her. “But I dinnae think you’re going to like how it has to be done.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you really want me to show you?” He allowed a solid punch from the warlock, who had remained mysteriously quiet up to this point. Something that became less important than leading Milly where she needed to go.

  “Of course I want you to show me,” she said, more and more alarmed as the warlock pursued him. “What do I do?”

  “You’ll know, lass,” he said softly. “Or so I hope.”

  He tossed aside his blade, held out his arms and waited.

  “Adlin,” she screamed as the warlock finally spoke and murmured, “You’re not half as powerful as they led me to believe,” and ran Adlin through with his sword before yanking it free.

  Adlin clenched his jaw against searing pain and kept his eyes on hers. He tried to stay afoot, but his legs gave way. As he fell to his knees, Milly wailed in grief and flew to him which, as it turned out, passed her right through the enemy. She fell to her knees and wrapped her ethereal arms around Adlin as though she could feel him. Touch him. And as he hoped might happen...she did.

  Even better? He felt her. Not just in a much stronger way mentally, but physically.

  Her magic.

  Her love for him.

  Almost like a magical bomb went off, her gem glowed even brighter.

  Then several things occured at once.

  When the ring’s magic in combination with Milly’s newfound power passed through the warlock, horrific things began to happen to their nemesis. Fortunately, the opposite happened to Adlin who was a few breaths away from death before life rushed back into him and his wound healed.

  As the warlock became visible, Adlin locked his hand around its decaying throat and growled, “Who are you?”

  It offered no reply but narrowed its eyes with unmistakable hatred. There would be no answers. Regrettably, it was too risky to try to enter its tainted and dying mind. So Adlin released the foul creature, pulled Milly against him and shielded her eyes from the rapidly decomposing body. Unfortunately, the putrid stench alone left little to the imagination.

  “I’m okay,” Mildred mumbled against his chest as she sneaked a peak. “I can handle it, Adlin.”

  He had to give her credit because it seemed she could.

  “Are you well, lass?” He looked her over. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m good,” she said softly, tears in her eyes as she touched where his wound had been. “I think the bigger question is how are you?” She shook her head. “I saw you get stabbed...I thought I was going to lose you...”

  “I’m well,” he assured. “Verra well thanks to you.” Before she could respond, he said, “We will talk about what happened and how you came to be here soon, but right now we must help my kin.”

  She nodded as he looked over the corpse hoping to find something that might offer the warlock’s identity. Nothing was there but bones and putrid flesh. Had he been Scottish? English?

  “Come along and remain quiet, lass.” Adlin scoffed the warlock’s sword and pulled her after him. Perhaps the blade could tell them something that the body could not.

  He led her through the woods only to find things had been going very well in his absence. Many had been cut down, and his cousins were still standing.

  “I’ll be with Milly soon and will keep her safe,” Grant said into Adlin’s mind. “Go help your kin finish them off.”

  Adlin relayed the message to Milly. “Stay down and dinnae move from this location, aye?” He pressed a dagger into her hand. “Though I think the ring will protect you, take this and dinnae hesitate to use it if need be.”

  Milly nodded. When he held back, unsure if he should leave her, she said, “Go help them, Adlin. I’ll be fine.”

  Based on the strength and determination in her eyes, she would be. So he set aside the enemy’s sword and rushed into battle. Almost all in the river were dead which only left two dozen or so on the southern shore. Grant continued to muffle the sound of warfare lest it traveled on the wind and echoed off the hills, so Adlin didn’t hold back a roar as he crossed blades.

  They did not parry long before he sliced the man’s mid-section open and moved onto the next. He and his kin reveled in bloodlust and thought nothing of their six-to-one odds. Bryce embraced the berserker as he fought, crazed and lethal as he toyed with his victims. As always, Graham chuckled here and there as he dealt a particularly harmful blow. He embraced a disconcerting sense of humor that made his rivals wary every time. Conall fought like he acted lately, stern and strict, his moves methodical but effective as he slayed men quickly.

  Two dozen men soon became a few then just one.

  One they had specifically saved for last.

  Richard Lundie.

  “’Twill be most satisfying when the Earl of Surrey learns of your defeat,” Adlin said, knowing full well it would be too late by then. “Ye traitorous bastard.”

  Lundie, afoot and surrounded, held up his sword, a little too haughty considering his current position. “It doesnae matter.” He shook his head. “The English will take ye soon. We will see victory.”

  “We,” Graham balked, swinging his blade back and forth with promise. “Ye speak as though yer one of them. As though ye’ve Sassenach blood in yer veins.”

  Lundie didn’t respond other than to narrow his eyes. He turned slowly as he attempted to keep an eye on each and every one of them. All it took was a swing of Bryce’s blade for him to let his guard down. Just enough for Adlin to come up behind him and put a blade to his neck.

  “Who was the man in the cloak?” he growled. “Who was the magic man I just finished off?”

  He could tell by the way Lundie stilled that his alarm had more to do with learning the warlock was dead than having a dagger to his neck.

  “Ye think I’m going to tell ye that,” Lundie started before Adlin punched him several times and then drove him to his knees. He didn’t dare enter the man’s mind in case the warlock had left some sort of dark trick locked away just waiting to infect another.

  “Ye’ll not get a word out of me,” Lundie continued before Adlin yanked his head back and held the blade to his nose, angrier by the moment. “Are the Sassenach worth giving up yer bonnie good looks for, lad?”

  Adlin made sure Lundie saw how deadly serious he was. More than that, how eager he was to cut. Lucky for him, it worked, and Lundie started talking.

  “He came from the north and offered to help,” he sputtered. “That’s all I know.”

  “So he’s Scottish?” Adlin growled.

  “Aye.” He shrugged his shoulders a fraction. “Mayhap. I was never truly sure.”

  “Yet ye trusted him.”

  “Aye.” His nose twitched against the blade and sweat glistened on his forehead. “He had a way about him...”

  Adlin could tell by the confused look in Lundie’s eyes that he had been bewitched and was just starting to realize it. More unnerving, mainly for Lundi
e, was his sudden confusion.

  “Bloody hell,” Adlin muttered as the warlock’s influence vanished altogether and he finally got a good sense of what happened. “’Twas dark magic that compelled Lundie to defect. He’s no willing traitor.”

  When Adlin pulled away, Lundie staggered to his feet holding his head against what was likely the same throbbing headache Milly had experienced. He had been subjected to dark magic for far longer though so it would take some time to wear off.

  “Do ye remember everything ye did, lad?” Bryce spat. “Plotting against yer own countrymen on behalf of Longshanks?”

  “Aye,” Lundie whispered, a heavy frown on his face. “I remember everything but ‘twas as if I was controlled by another.”

  “Because ye were.” Adlin sighed. History spoke of Lundie switching allegiances back to Scotland again, and now he understood why. He had never willingly turned from his country to begin with.

  Yet this presented them with an opportunity.

  First Adlin explained to Lundie what had happened then how they might benefit from it.

  “Yer in the perfect position to spy now,” Adlin said in closure. “Never speak of what happened here this night. Return to the Sassenach camp and continue to gather information. Help Scotland’s cause from behind enemy lines for as long as yer able then come fight alongside us again, aye?”

  “Aye.” Lundie eyed the river with baffled frustration, clearly coming to the conclusion that he had indeed just fought alongside his sworn enemy. “The Earl barely trusts me as it is. How am I to explain the loss of so many men?”

  “These men will never be found, and ye were never here,” Adlin said. “So as far as ye know they could have ended up anywhere.” He shook his head. “They were never put under yer charge, so ye arenae responsible for their whereabouts.”

  Lundie considered Adlin and his kin before he, at last, nodded. “Spying is the least I can do after battling my own countrymen.” He ground his jaw, anger, and shame in his eyes. “For conspiring against Wallace and Moray.”

  “’Twas unknowing on yer part and they’ll hear of it,” Adlin promised. “They’ll hear of the risk yer willing to take now on their behalf.” He nodded. “On Scotland’s behalf.”

  Adlin held his hand out in a show of support he knew his cousins were not quite ready to give. Lundie eyed him for a long moment before he clasped hands with Adlin. “Thank ye for the opportunity and for sparing my life.”

  “Not to mention yer nose,” Graham muttered.

  Lundie nodded at them all before he backed away and vanished into the night.

  Though he knew his kin remained disgruntled over letting Lundie leave unscathed, they trusted Adlin implicitly. They would not see Sir Richard Lundie again anytime soon, but he would become an important part of this war. He would stay true to Scotland and come through for his countrymen.

  Later, as they arrived back at the cave, he still pondered what they were truly up against. Was that the last they would see of warlocks? Or was it as Grant speculated and this was just the beginning? All he knew for certain was that it didn’t do much good worrying about it right now. If anything, it was time to revel in the fact that at long last, Milly’s gem shone the color of his eyes for all to see.

  “I still can’t believe I used magic to get from here to there...and then I actually was there.” Milly's grateful eyes went to Blair. “Thank you so much for all your help. Your support.”

  “Aye, lass, ‘twas the verra least I could do,” Blair grinned, “considering ye single-handedly took down a warlock.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say single-handedly. I had a little help after all.” She offered Adlin the sort of smile that promised she would be thanking him in a most pleasurable way later. “A lot of help actually.”

  “I had verra little to do with it,” Adlin replied as he offered her a piece of rabbit they had cooked. “Had you not given such good instructions to help me avoid the warlock then opened your heart to me, we wouldnae be sitting here now.”

  Though she blushed, there was a teasing fire in her eyes. “I should be more upset with you for letting yourself get stabbed like that.” She shook her head. “For having a little too much faith that I could save you from death.”

  “Och, lass, were you not the one preaching faith before we left this verra cave?” He threaded his fingers with hers. “Now look where we are. All the good you have done?”

  “We did,” she whispered, her eyes lingering on his before turning to the others. “All of us.”

  Conall had already headed back to Abbey Craig, determined to make sure Lindsay was well protected. Naturally, Graham followed to keep up appearances and Bryce soon after when he realized Milly’s gem matched Adlin’s eyes and all hope was lost. As least when it came to her.

  The rest of them had remained here so that Grant could get some rest. The water had been hard for him, but he seemed to have fared well enough. Aunt Sheila would likely bat Adlin upside the head when she learned Grant had braved such frigid waters. But even she knew there was no holding the old wizard back when it came to protecting his kin. He could be as stubborn as the rest of them.

  “So you really don’t think Cressingham and the Earl will catch wind of this?” Milly glanced from Grant to Adlin. “How can you be sure your magic got rid of all the bodies?”

  “Because we are the most powerful wizards in all of Scotland.” Grant nodded at Adlin before his eyes returned to Milly. “Both of us now thanks to you, lass.”

  There was nothing quite like seeing her gem glow the color of his eyes and then feeling the remainder of his long lost power fill him. Now, soon enough, she would start to remember everything. He knew it with certainty and was eager to see it happen. To finally join together as they should.

  Regrettably, they were no closer to learning how dark magic had manipulated her ring but would cross that bridge if and when they came to it. All that mattered now was that it was no longer controlled by anyone but her.

  “So ye dinnae sense anything off the warlock’s blade, Grant?” Adlin eyed the sword resting against the wall. “Not even where it might have been forged?”

  “Nay, ‘tis naught but a simple blade now,” Grant murmured. “When the warlock perished, so too did the sword’s history.”

  Adlin sighed. He knew as much but had hoped perhaps Grant would sense something he did not.

  “Things are going as planned and we had a fine victory this eve,” Grant continued as he leaned his head back against the stone, closed his eyes and yawned. “I’m off to sleep and suggest you all do the same. We’ll be leaving soon enough to get to the next battle.”

  Blair tucked her fur around Grant after he dozed off then settled down beside him. When Adlin stood and offered her his, she shook her head. “Nay, I’m fine. Keep Milly warm with that.”

  “Milly will be kept plenty warm,” he assured as he covered Blair, took Milly’s hand and said, “Come, lass, let us find a spot with a wee bit more space.”

  And more room to see through that promising smile she had given him.

  He was surprised to see Conall swinging down from his horse as they exited the cave.

  “Is everything okay, Conall?” Concern drew Milly’s finely arched brows together. “Is Lindsay all right?”

  “Aye, she’ll be fine with my cousins seeing to her.” He didn’t quite meet Adlin’s eyes as he passed, muttering, “I grow tired and must rest.”

  As Adlin watched Conall enter the cave, he could not help a small, hopeful smile.

  “What is it?” Milly asked as Adlin pulled her along a narrow path to another cave. “Why is Conall back?”

  “Though he’d never admit it, my guess is to keep an eye on his grandfather.” It said a lot about Conall’s true feelings toward Grant considering how taken his cousin was with Lindsay.

  “Glad to hear it,” she replied.

  In no mood to talk about family squabbles, he ducked into a cave, whispered a chant and started a fire. Though he wanted to p
ull Milly into his arms and kiss her senseless, he knew she was going to have a strong reaction to what she saw.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, her eyes wide on the stone archway between them and a small pool of water. “Why is that here?”

  Though roughly strewn, there was no mistaking its shape.

  “Why is what here, Milly?” he murmured, wanting to hear her say it...wanting so much for her to remember everything.

  “It’s called a Highland Defiance isn’t it?” she said softly as her eyes met his. “And you created it.”

  “Aye,” he murmured. “I can create them anywhere now thanks to you.”

  “I remember the shape.” Her eyes returned to the roughly strewn Celtic cross. “I remember seeing it in various places when we...”

  Adlin waited...hoped.

  Her gem started glowing as her eyes slowly returned to his and she whispered, “Those places were in our previous life, weren’t they? Here in Scotland when I traveled back in time before.”

  “Aye.” He cupped her cheek as faint memories began brushing her mind. The adventures they’d had. The enemies they already faced. “I’ve missed ye something fierce, lass.”

  Her eyes grew moist as she rested her cheek against his palm and remained silent. As she searched for more, eager to recall what remained just out of reach.

  “Come then, lass,” he whispered and threaded his fingers with hers like he had earlier. “Walk with me and finally see what you’ve forgotten, aye?”

  Milly nodded, trusting him completely as he led her under the Defiance’s archway straight into the attic of the colonial in New Hampshire. Her eyes widened in surprise as she watched herself as a little girl in a dream walk up the stairs and call out, “Adlin? Where are you?”