Susan King - [Celtic Nights 01]

by The Stone Maiden

Sebastien whirled to look, as did Alainna. Two men walked over the swell of a hill and came toward them. They were huge, unkempt, and fierce-looking, one black-haired, one redheaded. Both wore plaids of red and brown over coarse shirts and vests of fur, with fur leggings. Sebastien saw in them the sort of men who had given Highlanders their reputation as savages.

  "By the look of those spears and bows, they are out for a hunt," Robert said, walking up to join Sebastien and the rest.

  "Or worse," Giric drawled. "They will behave themselves. They are but two alone, while we are twenty and more strong, with armored knights among us."

  "And women, on the Sabbath day," Alainna added.

  "They will behave," Niall said, "unless they have a host of MacNechtans hiding in the hills to ambush us."

  Hearing Alainna gasp, Sebastien caught her glance and shook his head to reassure her. "They are alone," he said.

  "The view from here is widespread. There is no one else about. No cause to worry, my lady."

  One of the men called out a greeting as they drew near. They were brawny men, armed with spears, bows, and targes. The redheaded man carried two limp hares strung on a cord.

  "Cormac MacNechtan," Alainna said. "Struan."

  "Alainna of Kinlochan," the black-haired man said. "We heard Normans had come to Kinlochan, and would greet them, too." He spit on the ground, an obvious insult.

  "Be on your way," Alainna said. "It is the Sabbath."

  "We mean no harm to you or yours," the redheaded man said.

  "You are ready with bow and spear to battle some hares, I see," Giric said.

  "Do you fear that you are those hares?" Cormac asked.

  "We would be wolves," Giric snarled.

  "Peace," Sebastien warned. His horse, sensing tension in the air, sidestepped restively. Sebastien handed the reins to Lulach nearby, and walked toward the Highlanders.

  "You are no priest, to order peace between enemies," Cormac said, narrowing his gaze at Sebastien. "What does a Norman knight want in the Highlands? Did you come here to stir trouble and claim land that is not yours?"

  "Are you Cormac MacNechtan of Turroch?" Sebastien asked in Gaelic. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that several clan members, including Alainna, now stood behind him.

  "I am. Who are you?"

  "Sebastien le Bret, sent here by order of the king. I bring a message from the king, which I must deliver to you, but later. Here is not the place for it."

  "A reply to my petition at last," Cormac said. "I trust the answer will please me, and bring me a fine wife." He glanced at Alainna.

  Sebastien shifted to block Cormac's view of her, as if that dark glance might sully her. "The king orders Clan Laren and Clan Nechtan to put their weapons and their anger aside. We will discuss the details later."

  "We can only resolve this feud through marriage between our clans," Cormac said. "Our grudge is older than the king's own Celtic bloodline. He cannot simply order us to stop and expect it to be done, without suitable reward."

  "The king wishes to establish your loyalty before he grants a reward. I am certain you will be eager to prove that to him."

  "Tell the king we are loyal," Struan said. "The MacWilliams are the rebellious ones. And those rebels who are not dead have fled to Ireland."

  "We are neither dead nor in Ireland, as you see." Cormac grinned. "So how can we be rebels?"

  Sebastien watched them steadily. "If you are trustworthy, it will go well for you. But those who support Celtic rebels risk all, land and life."

  "Of course," Cormac said. "Lately I have heard that the rebel MacWilliams are returning to the Highlands to beg support. I have heard that Ruari Mor is among them, returned from the dead. If I see him, I will be sure to refuse him help." He looked hard at Alainna.

  "Even if he were alive, Ruari would never ask support from you!" Alainna snapped.

  "Would he not?" Cormac asked. "We have strength of men, where Clan Laren does not. If Ruari Mor's ghost or any rebel comes to my gate, I will let the Normans have him. Would that please the king, Norman?"

  "Nothing you do could please the king," Lulach growled, stepping forward. A murmur went through the gathering.

  Sebastien moved to stand between the MacNechtans and the rest, determined to stem the rising tempers on both sides. "We will meet to discuss the king's orders," he told Cormac. "For now, be warned that the crown demands that you prove your loyalty, and that your clan cease to feud with Clan Laren. If you do not, you risk all. The king has the right to cast you out from your lands."

  "And give them into Norman keeping?" Cormac snarled. "Why are you at Kinlochan? What is it that Clan Nechtan does not yet know?" He looked at Alainna. "Tell me what this is about."

  "Sir Sebastien le Bret has been appointed baron of Kinlochan by king's order," she said.

  "Laird of Kinlochan!" Cormac glared at Sebastien, breath heaving. Sebastien tensed his hand, ready to pull free his sword if Cormac touched a weapon. Cormac pivoted toward Struan. "I will kill that priest," he muttered. "I paid him to write a petition that would gain me Kinlochan, not lose it to Normans!"

  "You cannot blame this on the priest," Struan said.

  "Bah!" Cormac turned to Sebastien. "What of Alainna MacLaren? She had best be my bride. I am the closest and strongest neighbor to Kinlochan. If she is not to be mine, there will be strife."

  Sebastien stood unyielding, his hand steady on his sword hilt, his gaze hard. "We are prepared for that."

  "Ask the king for another reward," Cormac said. "MacGregor land would suit you."

  Giric lunged forward and Sebastien put out an arm to stop his advance. Robert and Hugo and two other knights stepped forward. Sebastien felt a base urge to shove his fist into Cormac's gloating face, but he forced himself to remain outwardly impassive.

  "Who will marry her?" Cormac demanded. "The Norman who flattered the king for the lady's lands? Myself, who submitted a rightful petition? Or her foster brother, who lusts after her in secret?"

  Giric leaned forward again, but Sebastien shot him a glare, arm outstretched. "Keep to the king's purpose here, not your own," he hissed. Giric narrowed his eyes in fury but stilled.

  Alainna pushed past Giric and Sebastien then. They both reached for her, but she avoided their hands and glided over the brown grasses like a queen, her head high, her hair shining like a red gold crown. Sebastien took a long step to stand at her side like an honor guard, hand on weapon, gaze keen.

  "Cormac MacNechtan," she said. "I will choose my husband myself. You will not tell me who to wed."

  "Do you choose the Norman?" Cormac asked.

  "The Norman is a great warrior, and I am in his debt. He killed a boar with one thrust of his spear, and saved my life. You are in his debt, too. This man saved Eoghan and Lileas from the wolves along with another man, who went into hiding. If that man was a rebel, you should not be so quick to turn him over to the king's men."

  "Then we are in the Norman's debt, and the other man too," Struan said to Cormac.

  Cormac frowned at his brother and at Sebastien. "Whoever helped my son," he said carefully, "if he be enemy, remains enemy. But he shall not die by my hand. I can promise no more than that."

  Sebastien maintained a steady gaze at Cormac and said nothing.

  "It is enough," Alainna said. "This knight has proven his strength and his willingness to help my people. If I choose to wed him, you will know it by the posting of the banns."

  "Do not make the mistake of becoming his wife," Cormac said.

  "It is my choice, for ill or good," Alainna said.

  "Cormac MacNechtan," Sebastien said. "The king orders peace here, and sent us to see it accomplished. I will meet with you at Turroch to discuss the king's writ and his message to you. If you threaten this clan or these people, then prepare for battle with the king's own army."

  Cormac flexed his thick fingers on the staff of his spear. "Come to Turroch, then," he said stiffly. "For now, I wish to speak with Alainna in private, as one chief
to another. I have more to discuss with her."

  "He has that right," Alainna said.

  Sebastien flexed his hand and slithered the tip of his sword loose. "We will tolerate no trouble," he warned. He stepped backward so that Cormac and Alainna stood alone.

  "The holding of Kinlochan is mine," Cormac said in a low voice that carried in the crisp air. "You should be mine. Your father wanted peace as much as anyone. He would have given you to me to gain it. He gave me his promise on the day he died."

  "He would not promise that!"

  "He would and did. You are meant to be mine."

  "I will never be yours!"

  He snatched her wrist. "Remember the Stone Maiden. Nothing can protect you once spring is here," he hissed. "Neither kinsmen nor Norman, nor the faeries themselves."

  Sebastien strode toward them, sliding his sword free. Bright steel flashed in a falling arc to touch Cormac's forearm. "Take your hand from her or lose it to the blade," he said. Behind him, he heard the sound of steel slithering free from leather sheaths as the elderly clan members and his own knights grasped their weapons.

  Cormac let Alainna go. Sebastien eased her behind him with an extended arm, and rested his sword tip on Cormac's chest. "Be on your way," he growled.

  "Norman," Cormac said. "Now that you are laird of Kinlochan, you and I are enemies. I will spare your life because you helped my son, but I will never call you friend—unless you honor Laren MacLaren's promise to me and give me his daughter and a fair portion of her land."

  "My father made no promise to you," Alainna countered.

  "Giric knows!" Cormac said, turning. "Tell her about the day Laren MacLaren was wounded to his death!"

  "I told her what she had to know," Giric said. "That he was ambushed by you and your men. What should she know, but that tale of treachery?"

  Sebastien saw Alainna close her eyes in anguish, then look at her foster brother. "What does he mean, Giric? What more should I know?"

  "No more," Giric said through tight lips, glaring at Cormac.

  "Laren MacLaren gave me permission to wed his daughter," Cormac said. "He gave our marriage his blessing."

  "You are a liar," Giric snarled.

  "I should kill you where you stand," Cormac said. "Your life is only saved today because it is the Sabbath."

  "Enough!" Sebastien cut in. "Be on your way."

  "You and I will meet at Turroch, Norman," Cormac said. "Alainna MacLaren, ask Giric about that day. Do not forget that you are mine. If you value your clan—what is left of it—you will choose me for your husband, for I know your lands as well as my own, and I am a Highlander to my bones, unlike some." He glared at Sebastien and turned away from the pressing edge of the sword, striding away with his brother behind him.

  Sebastien watched them vanish over a hill. Once he was sure that they had no other men with them and had gone, he sheathed his sword. He turned to discover Alainna and Giric standing not far from him, talking earnestly. Beyond them, the others resumed their journey over the hills.

  "It is not so," Alainna said as Sebastien came closer.

  "It is," Giric said, and reached for her arm. She pushed his hand away. "I am sorry, girl. I hoped never to have to tell you. It is true. I heard them talking that day."

  She glanced at Sebastien, and he saw longing and fear in her eyes. "My father promised me to Cormac?" she asked Giric. "How could he do that?"

  "He was hurt badly, and he knew he would not survive. I saw it in his face, that awakening that comes into a man's eyes when he knows his death is upon him."

  Alainna put her fist to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. "Go on."

  "Cormac had not wounded Laren with his own hand, but he saw your father fall. I could not get to Laren myself, for I had a wounded leg, and Aodh the Red had fallen beside me. His weight trapped me with my back against a rock."

  "Aodh," she said. "He was a good man. But tell me what came next, with my father."

  Sebastien began to walk away to give them privacy, but Alainna held up a hand as if pleading for him to stay. He did, standing quietly, watching her with concern.

  "I saw Cormac kneel beside your father. He could have given Laren the killing blow there and then, but he did not."

  "My father spoke to him?"

  "Cormac demanded that your father surrender the feud to Clan Nechtan. Laren refused. But he asked for peace and an end to the feud."

  "Cormac asked for my hand, and my father agreed?"

  "I do not know what was said between them. But Cormac nodded as if he were satisfied. He called to his men to leave when they could have killed us all, for they were five times our numbers and had taken us by surprise. And I know what your father told me when I finally crawled to his side."

  "You told me he said nothing to you that day," Alainna said. "You did not tell me any of this before."

  "How could I hurt you when you were already suffering?" Giric asked. "I kept it to myself. I knew what Laren wanted." He drew a long breath as if he fought a powerful emotion. "Laren told me that you would be chief in his place soon," he went on. "He asked me to watch over you. He begged me to make sure that you married, before spring arrived, the strongest warrior to be found, someone to defeat Cormac."

  "He must have given Cormac permission to marry me once the spell over the Stone Maiden ends," Alainna said. "Then he asked you to see me wed to someone else before then, to thwart Cormac."

  "I think so. Cormac is sure he will have you when spring comes. But your father wanted you to be safe, Alainna. Laren would approve of your marriage to Sebastien."

  Alainna nodded, and looked at Sebastien, her gaze fastened to his. "My father would want this marriage for me," she echoed.

  Sebastien watched her steadily, while the cold wind whipped at his cloak.

  "He would want you to be happy," Giric said quietly. "As all of us want for you."

  She looked at him. "Do the old ones know about my father's request?"

  "Some of them," Giric said.

  She nodded slowly, her eyes spilling over with tears.

  Sebastien felt something tug inside his heart. He took a step toward her, compelled by the need in her expression. Her hand lifted toward him.

  Dear God, he thought. He wanted to hold her so much that it was painful, a sudden physical ache inside him. He took another step forward.

  Then Giric took her shoulder and turned her into his own embrace.

  Sebastien paused. He saw the loving look that Giric gave her, saw her crumple against him. He clenched his hands against the yearning that swelled in him.

  Giric belonged here in her world, he told himself. He did not, regardless of king's orders, regardless of the game destiny played with their lives. No matter if he longed to be part of such a kinship, such a legacy. No matter that he craved Alainna with every part of his being in that moment.

  His was a wandering soul, as Alainna had termed it. He had never known a true home, and he wondered if he would ever belong anywhere, no matter how much he wanted it.

  Giric smoothed his hand over Alainna's back, and Sebastien felt a stabbing sensation in his gut. He turned away in silence. Alainna regarded Giric as a brother only and needed her kinsman's comfort, he knew, but he did not like the sight of it.

  He drew a sharp breath and walked away. He felt a strange hurt inside, as if a strand of his heart had been torn away, as if he left part of himself on the windy hilltop with Alainna.

  Chapter 16

  Alainna waited while the others filed out of the church after Father Padruig gave the final blessing. Their voices echoed against the whitewashed walls, and soon the priest's booming laugh rose above the rest as he joined them outside. She heard Lorne introduce Sebastien to Father Padruig, and she saw Una and Giric glance toward her as they left. She motioned them ahead. They would understand, she knew, what she must do.

  She crossed to the north side of the church and went through a narrow doorway. A candle flickered in a wall niche, and s
he lifted it, shielding the flame as she walked down a few steps into a dark crypt.

  The underground chamber, with an earthen floor and a low, vaulted stone ceiling, contained several tombs. Alainna went to the farthest corner, where the tombs of her parents and brothers were placed, the space forming a small chapel. She set the candle on the floor, knelt on the cold earth, and bowed her head to pray for their souls.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she thought of her father. Knowing his wound was fatal, harassed in his weakness by his mortal enemy, he had been forced to agree to something he did not believe was right. He had protected her by asking Giric to make certain she wed a warrior before Cormac could claim her.

  She bent over her folded hands and cried out of sorrow and thankfulness. But the knowledge that her father would approve of her marriage to the Breton knight was a great relief and a true blessing. She wiped her tearstained face, feeling exhausted, washed clean. Sorrow would return again, she knew, unbidden as a storm, capable of overwhelming her. She weathered it a little more easily each time, though she knew she might never fully recover from the hurt of losing her family.

  She could only find niches for the pain, the emptiness, the memories. And she felt as if she had grown stronger from the burdens she carried.

  After a while she whispered a prayer for her sleeping family, rose to her feet, and went to the crypt stairs. From above, she heard the scrape of boots on stone.

  Sebastien stood in the narrow doorway. She looked up at him, candle in her hand. Then, silently, she beckoned for him to come down into the crypt.

  "Are they here?" he asked as he entered.

  She knew what he meant, and nodded. "Come, I will show you." She spoke softly in English, the language they most often used with each other. She held the candle high and led him to the corner. "My parents are on that side, and my brothers are there," she said. "They too are buried side by side. Conall and Niall were soul-friends in life. We put them together in death, beneath one tombstone."

  "Soul-friends?" he asked.

  "Souls linked to one another through love and loyalty all their lives. They can be comrades, brothers and sisters, or lovers. Not everyone has a soul-friend, but those that do are blessed." She touched the sandstone slab that covered them; carved in raised relief, two warriors surrounded by an intertwining vine wrapped around two swords.