“I dinna understand, what do ye mean?”
“Their plans were disrupted when a wee lass came upon them in the woods.”
“A lass?”
“Aye. They chased her to the armory. She was unconscious when I found her. Evelyn is caring for her now. I dinna know who she is, but we are indebted to her. Until I know who she is, we will offer her our protection while she is on our lands. In the meantime, we must keep a lookout. My guess is that we have no’ seen the last of McGregor’s men.”
“I agree.”
“Gather the troops at sunrise. We must keep them abreast of the situation.”
“Aye, my Laird,” Alex said as he exited through the door leaving Galen alone in the library.
Tomorrow was expected to be a busy day. He only hoped that tomorrow would prove to be less eventful.
The sounds in the castle had begun to quiet down, as the servants had long since returned to their quarters. Getting up from his chair, Galen headed for the door. The creaks in the floor caused Wolf to lift his head and watch his movements. His wagging tail pounded the floor like a hammer. Wandering the vacant halls, Galen followed the corridor until he reached the end of the hall to his bedchamber.
The room was as dark and cold as a cell in the dungeon. Picking up a few logs situated near the doorway, he made his way toward the fireplace, careful not to trip over anything that may have been on the floor. After stacking the logs on the hearth, he ran his hand along the mantle, searching for the piece of steel and flint he had left there earlier in the day. Finding them on the far end, he held the steel against the logs and stroked the flint against it. It did not take long before the wood caught fire and began to emanate heat throughout the room. Adding an extra log for good measure, he kicked off his boots and climbed into bed.
Galen attempted to close his eyes and rest, but spent the next few hours tossing and turning. Though his muscles and eyes felt tired and heavy, sleep eluded him. His mind refused to settle. Perhaps he should have reconsidered drinking a tankard of whiskey before bed. The incident with Arthur McGregor’s men still consumed his thoughts. McGregor had brought havoc to his doorstep, and Galen was eager to retaliate. But this was one time he needed to cool his hot-headed ego. After two months of campaigns against his army, Galen would have thought McGregor would have surrendered his forces, but it only proved to show how resilient the stubborn bastard was. Caught in the middle of a war his uncle had started, Galen knew he had only one option: win it.
After only a few dreadful hours of sleep, he woke just before the sun rose. How had morning come so soon? He felt as if he had spent the night drinking himself into a stupor. Galen woke with a massive headache and blood-shot eyes. Leaning over the side of the bed, Galen stretched out his arm and reached for the mug sitting on his bedside table. Empty. Damn! Galen lay back down and spent the following several minutes arguing with himself about whether or not to get out of bed. After much debate and compromise, he finally swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Sleeplessness had become a familiar enemy, like a demon of the night rendering him weak and useless during the waking hours. He needed whiskey, and fast.
~ ♥ ~
Swinging open the door to the kitchen, Galen found Moira, the head kitchen maid, rolling a ball of dough.
“My Laird, I dinna know ye were awake at this hour. I have just started working on the morning meal. I have nothing prepared.”
“Dinna fash yerself, Moira. I did no’ come down here to eat. Where’s the whiskey?”
“Whiskey, at this hour?”
“Aye! I could no’ sleep.”
Moira pointed to the barrel tucked back in the corner of the room. Grabbing a smaller mug from the table, he filled it to the rim and drank it before filling another. The whiskey warmed the back of his throat and the pain in his head became almost tolerable.
“I do hope my bangin’ around here in the kitchens did no’ keep ye awake. I am getting the bread ready for the ovens. I have much to do today. I am training my wee Abby in the kitchens this morning.”
“How is yer daughter?” he asked.
“She is verra anxious to serve in the castle, now that she is old enough.”
“I am sure she will do a fine job,” Galen reassured her. “When ye are finished, have the maids ready the room in the tower. We have an unexpected guest staying with us and I would like for her to be comfortable and not disturbed.”
“Aye, my Laird.”
Galen bid her farewell and headed out the door that led to the bailey behind the stables. The cool morning air had calmed, and large fluffy snowflakes fell from the sky, covering the ground beneath his feet. A chill crawled up his spine, and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood erect. With haste, he walked to the front of the barn and quickly slipped inside out of the cold.
Inside, he found a tattered brown cloak hanging on an old rusty nail. Wrapping it around his shoulders, he shivered for a moment as his skin warmed the cool fabric. He glanced out the window and saw that the sky had lightened; an orange hue glowed on the crest of the horizon. The sun was going to rise soon. Galen hoped Warrick had returned in time to speak to him before addressing his men. Saddling his horse, he led the mare out of the stall and mounted. Clasping his hand tightly on the reins, he squeezed his thighs around its midsection as he guided the horse toward the village.
Within minutes, Galen arrived outside of the cottage. Once the horse was settled in the barn, he made his way to the cottage.
Galen knocked once, but there was no answer. Pushing the door open, he crept inside. He found Evelyn passed out in a cushioned chair in front of the small hearth. The fire had long been extinguished leaving behind a pile of smoldering ash as a wisp of smoke lingered in the air. Clutched in her arms, was a spool of yarn, and the workings of a baby blanket rested upon her lap. The floor creaked beneath his weight as he stepped towards her.
“Ev,” he whispered.
“Wh…what?” Evelyn stuttered as she woke from her slumber. “Oh, Galen, tis only ye,” she said with a yawn.
“I dinna mean to wake ye.”
“Tis alright. I was no’ verra comfortable in this chair anyways.”
“Has Warrick returned?”
Evelyn looked about the room as if she expected to see him standing near the doorway.
“Nay. I waited fer him, but I must have fallen asleep,” she said, as she placed her needlework into a wicker basket on the floor.
“How is the lass?”
“The lass is still sleeping. ‘Tis the oddest thing. Physically, she appears to be in good health. There were no signs of rape or injury other than a twisted ankle and the bruise on her cheek, but she is still verra weak and tired, as if she had been through one hellish ordeal. She did manage to drink some broth I spiced with willow bark and other healing herbs. I am hoping that after some rest she will improve.”
“I have a mind to transfer her to the castle. She verra well cannae take up yer only bed, and there is plenty of room at Dunquest.”
“It may be best to wait. She cannae ride a horse. Her ankle is quite swollen. It is possible that it is just a sprain, but I will have to see how it is when she wakes,” Evelyn said as she stretched her lower back. “I’m afraid that riding on a horse now would only jostle her, and she still seems quite frightened as it is. The lass is verra skittish.”
“I dinna think she has any other options.”
“She will be fine here, cousin. I am perfectly well enough to care for her.”
“That is no’ a request, Ev,” he barked.
Galen had not meant to be short with his cousin, but his concern for her and the bairn came first.
“Gather what things she will need. If her ankle is only sprained I imagine she will no’ be staying wit’ us long. I will make arrangement to send her back to her people.”
“Galen, there is something else about the lass that ye need to know. She cannae speak.”
“She’s a mute? Well, that complicates things,”
he said in a husky voice as he slumped down hard into one of the chairs behind him.
“Nay, it dinna have to be,” Evelyn perked up.
“How am I going to find out what happened to the lass and how she came to be on our lands if she cannae speak?” Galen asked, annoyed.
“Honestly, Cousin. Dinna it ever occur to ye that she can answer by shaking her head?”
Galen thought on the matter. In all honesty, it hadn’t occurred to him. Perhaps the fact that she couldn’t talk wasn’t entirely a terrible thing; a woman often talked too much as it was.
“I will return wit’ a cart for her within the hour. Perhaps that will ease her discomfort.”
“Perhaps, but please be patient with her. I dinna know what had happened to her, but I imagine there was some reason why she was traveling alone. Perhaps she was escaping from something or someone. If we do find out where she belongs, we cannae just send her back without finding out why she left in the first place.”
“E’en if she ran away from an arranged marriage or an abusive husband, there is nothing I can do. The lass is no’ my concern.”
“Well, she is now!”
Evelyn was right. The moment he offered her protection, he was already caught up in her affairs whether he liked it or not.
“With what happened last night, will ye be leaving again?”
“I know what yer thinking, Ev. If this results in war, I will do my best to keep Warrick far away from the fight.”
Galen knew that was exactly what Evelyn wanted to hear, but the truth behind Warrick’s fate could not be determined any more than his own. Even if he kept him out of this battle, there would always be another.
Chapter 9
Ella woke as a chorus of morning birds sang to the beginning of a new day. Like nature’s alarm, the bittersweet melody woke the woodland creatures from their midnight slumber. Ella could hear the rustling sounds as they pranced around in the snow outside her window. As the darkness in the room began to fade away with the rising sun, a rainbow of colors shone through the frost-covered window.
Ella sat up, using the pillow to support her back as she leaned up against the headboard. Next to her on the bedside table, Ella saw that Evelyn had left her a full glass of water. Picking up the glass, she pressed it against her parched lips and drank the entire offering. Though still sore, Ella was grateful that she felt much better than she had last night; remarkably better.
Ella listened for sounds of Evelyn in the next room, but the place was quiet. Ella thought now would be a good time to make her exit. Shuffling her feet from under the covers, she draped her legs over the side of the bed and slid off. Immense pain from her ankle caused her to immediately jump backward onto the bed. Throwing her hands around her bandaged ankle, she held it, willing the pain away.
How had she gotten into such a mess? She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t walk; hell, the Gods might as well take her eyesight, too, so she could conveniently stumble right off a cliff! Ella fought back a tear. Defeat was not an option, and she was not going to pity herself. With a huff, she stood up again, only this time shifting all of her weight to one side. At the bottom of the bed draped over the covers, Evelyn had left her a gown to wear. It was a deep garnet-color with lace trim and long sleeves.
Remembering how cold it had been the night before, she twisted her lips as she considered what to do. The woman had said her own clothes were ruined. The gown she wore was thin, but would provide an extra layer of warmth against the cold. Deciding self-preservation was of the utmost importance; Ella decided to use the gown as a shift and donned the heavier gown over it. The garnet fabric was thick and warm. Perfect, if she were to brave the cold.
Within moments of dressing, Ella heard commotion from the other room, followed by a door slamming.
“Ye cannae go in there, ye’ll wake her,” Ella heard Evelyn say.
“I have nay time to wait,” a man replied and swung open the door to Ella’s room. “And by the looks of it, the lass is already awake.”
The man towering over her was a giant in both size and girth. Wide shoulders and large muscles filled his tunic, stretching the fabric taut. His cinnamon-and-spice-colored hair looked like a lion’s mane, hanging down far enough that it touched both shoulders. His piercing stormy-grey eyes matched the color of the sky after a light spring rain, and his prominent arched cheekbones were as angular as his jawline. He walked toward her with sure-footed purpose.
Addressing Ella, he continued. “My lady, my name is Galen. I have come to take ye to the Castle. There is plenty of room there fer ye to rest and heal and I insist we leave at once before the snowfall worsens. Tis a heavy storm coming.”
Ella had no inclinations of going anywhere but home. She stood motionless.
“I’m afraid he is right, Lassie,” Evelyn said. “If the snow gets any deeper it will be too hard to pull the cart through it.”
Cart? They wished her to ride in a cart like swine? Shaking her head furiously, she tucked her arms cross her front and gave them a mutinous look. Her actions were quite easy to read as Galen glared back at her. Taking a step toward her, Ella did not know what he intended. Fearing that he may harm her like the others, she moved like lightning and slipped his dagger out of its sheath where it clung to his side. With a fierce grip, she held the dagger outward with both hands.
“Now listen here, lassie, there will be none of that. Now hand over that blade. I am no here to hurt ye. I am here to offer ye protection, but I can no do that from all the way out here in the village if I have to disarm ye.”
I’d like to see him try! If this was how they offered help and protection, she would rather take her chances out in the storm.
Leaning into Evelyn, Galen whispered, “Ye dinna think she’s a Sassenach, do ye? That alone would have given those men reason to beat her.”
Staring daggers at him, Ella thought to remind him that she was mute, not deaf! Are they all like this? The ignorance of men! This one, she figured, wore his arrogance like a tartan showing off his true colors. This was a man who was not afraid to offend others. Ella found his words harsh and unyielding. Had he no care at all?
“If ye are just going to stand there, ye leave me no choice, Lassie,” Galen threatened.
The lass was as irritating as an itch he could not scratch. It was a shame her personality did not match her pleasant appearance.
With pursed lips, the lass glanced to Evelyn.
“It will be fine. I promise nothing bad will happen. Castle Dunquest is a fine castle, wit’ plenty of comfortable accommodations. Ye will have yer own room, and once yer ankle heals, I am sure ye will be able to return home,” Evelyn calmly said.
Galen’s patience was wearing thin. He had no time to waste on such stubbornness. Before she could react, Galen grabbed her wrist and removed his dagger from her hand as if he were taking it from a child. He then proceeded to toss a plaid around her shoulders, and lifted her into the air as if she were a bag of grain. He could have just as easily tossed her over his shoulder and carried her out the door from the start and avoided all this nonsense. So much for tryin’ to be considerate, he thought to himself.
The cold wind blew hard as snowflakes stuck to the plaid. Placing her gently in the cart, he draped another blanket around her.
“That should keep ye plenty warm,” he said as he placed a bag Evelyn had given him next to her before mounting his horse.
Ella peeked inside the bag that Galen had set down next to her. There was a blue-colored gown and a white shift, as well as a few more bandages that matched the ones Evelyn had wrapped around her ankle. Ella took another apprehensive look back to Evelyn as Alex mounted his horse. Soon, they were off toward Dunquest. Her thoughts turned to the daunting castle, wondering where Galen was taking her. Was it a grand fortress like the one she lived in, or was it a small dwelling filled with a mass of ignorant, overbearing, foul-smelling men like this Galen fellow? After what she had experienced already, she assumed the worst.
The cold wind howled like a banshee as it bit her frozen cheeks. Lying back against a pallet of hay, she held the blanket close under her chin, thankful she had donned both gowns. The blanket offered little protection from the cold. As Galen rode toward Dunquest, Ella took note of every distinctive landmark they passed so she was better equipped to map her escape. The direction Galen led them brought them inside a dense forest. Taking several turns, Ella was jerked around inside the cart. She wondered if he was intentionally riding over roots and the uneven ground to spite her for resisting him.
After taking a meandering, weather-beaten path, the tree cover lessened and she could see a clearing ahead. Within the woods, the trees offered sufficient protection from the falling snow, but now, out in the open air; snow fell like a heavy rain, wet and thick.
Her hair, wet and frozen from the snowfall, was now like icicles that hung off a tree branch, and snowflakes covered her like a white blanket of prickly thorns.
As they reached the edge of the woods, they were surrounded by rolling hills and shadowy groves. In the far distance, stone peaks of three circular towers emerged like guardians rising into the sky, keeping a watchful eye on the land below.
The winding, beaten path weaved around the low valleys of the rocky hills. Relief came when the castle fully came into view.
“T’will no’ be long now,” he called out, though she could have sworn he’d said the same nearly twenty minutes ago.
The sight of the castle inflamed her imagination. It was not at all what she had expected. Larger than any fortress she had ever seen, its domineering presence high above the hill gave an alarming yet powerful impression. Surrounded by steep mountains and deep valleys, the castle rested atop a craggy summit. Its soaring towers seemed to reach for the heavens as the turret and crown touched the clouds wisping by.
Highland Charm: First Fantasies Page 51