by Lizzy Ford
“I am gone.”
Her heart broke at his hushed voice. Men, horses, boulders, wagons and she knew not what else were swirling around the valley, yanked into the violent storm.
“Please, Cade,” she pleaded.
He sagged without responding.
Isabel sucked in deep breaths, fighting her panic. “You are my husband, Cade, a man of great honor and bravery. I was wrong to want you dead, to seek you out for the purpose of harming you. You healed my brother’s madness and I am … distraught knowing this causes you such pain. I did not know. But I do now, and I am so sorry for the strife I caused you, for the secrets and lies and blame.” She stopped, unable to tell if her words were penetrating his madness.
During the last days before her father’s death, she had openly wept and pleaded with him at his bedside, trying to reach him, too, and make him understand how much she needed him, how much she loved him. She had failed to save him, and she was failing to save Cade. The tears started, and pain with no physical source thrummed within her.
“Please, Cade. I want a home with you, a beautiful keep on the ocean where we can see … the ocean from every window and a home and land for each member of your … our clan. We will have children, three boys and two girls, and they will drive you mad with their laughter and you will remember this day and how you fought the madness one last time. You will know … peace. I swear it!”
Her eyes darted to the sky then to the seawater starting to fill the valley.
“You will have gold,” she continued. “We will never … we will never leave our lands, because they are ours and so beautiful, you would not ever wish to leave, and no one will ever take them from us. The king has given me his word. He will protect the seillie and my claim and Niall will ensure the hills are always covered in flowers and we will dance every night with … with the clan,” she babbled. “But you must stop this first. You must protect us and your cousins and …” She broke off and sobbed, aware of how little time she had to reach him through the madness, of how many lives were likely lost already.
Waves crested the ridge, these large enough to swallow the valley.
“You must save me, Cade. One last time,” she told him.
He was unresponsive.
Isabel looked away from the sea and clouds attempting to devour all in their path and shuffled on her knees to her husband. Hunching her shoulders against the storm, she wrapped her arms around Cade’s neck and pulled him into her body as she had her brother. The ocean loomed over the ridge behind her, and she swore never to let Cade go, even if they were swept out to sea.
“Please, Cade,” she whispered. “I cannot live without you.” She closed her eyes, expecting to spend her last moment alive knowing she had not been able to save any of those she loved.
He shuddered.
She squeezed him tighter in response, unable to speak through the sobs clogging her throat.
He was trembling and warm, and the growth of his beard was rough against her skin. Her strength was spent, and she clung to him. She waited to die as the sounds of the world dying around her tore away what remained of her hope.
“Isabel.” His voice was rough.
She swallowed hard. “I am here,” she managed. “I will not leave you again.”
He lifted her chin and pushed the wet strands of hair plastered to her cheek out of her face. “I thought you were dead.”
She shook her head, chin trembling.
His eyes were glassy, and the shadow she had seen over him in Laird Duncan’s Great Hall was present.
“Forgive me, Cade,” she whispered and took his cheeks in her hands. “Forgive me for not saving you.” She fluttered kisses across his face and hugged him again.
He sighed deeply. Cade’s arms closed around her, drawing her against him. He felt strong and solid despite the faint tremor of his being, and she melted into him, grateful to spend her last moment alive with the most honorable man she had ever known.
“You did save me, lass,” he murmured.
Not this time. She could not speak the words aloud.
“My magic chose ye. It always ken ye would protect my kind. Were that I trusted m’self sooner, trusted you …”
No wall of ocean water swept them away, and no wind tossed them into the heavens. Her eyes opened. The sea no longer peeked over the ridge, and the clouds above had begun to break up. Wind softened its abuse of all in its path and the rain was receding.
“Cade,” she breathed, afraid to hope the danger was passing.
“The madness took me. I couldna … fight … alone …” He drifted off and then buried his face into the nape of her neck, squeezing her against his hard warrior’s frame.
She breathed in his scent, too exhausted to speak. She listened to the sound of his heart above the quieting tempest. It was strong and steady despite his state.
She relaxed in his embrace, grateful for his strength when hers was close to gone.
“Isabel, my wife,” he whispered. “Ye soothe my unseillie blood. Ye return me from the madness.”
She blinked back tears, gazing up at his rugged features framed against a pop of brilliant blue sky visible as the clouds rolled away. Cade was flushed, his moon-hued gaze sharp but his skin clammy.
“The sky,” she said, straightening. “I have not seen the sun since I arrived.”
The color dazzled her. She refused to blink, afraid this was a dream, that the blue would disappear and the storm return. Finally, she allowed her eyes to close and open – and nothing changed. The clouds raced away as fast as they had formed. Puddles of water and mud littered the verdant valley. Men and horses were starting to rise from where they had been dropped by the wind and seawater. Wood from broken wagons and trees were scattered across the floor of the valley, along with weapons, armor, and other debris.
Ocean water was retreating as well, running up the ridge back towards the sea. The unnatural sight of water flowing up hill, of Cade’s magic reversing the damage it had done, assured her he had truly returned from the madness.
“You did it,” she said, focusing on Cade once more. “You saved us!”
He cupped her cheeks in his roughened palms. “You saved us, Lady Cade,” he whispered. “You saved me.” The shadow receded with the clouds, until not one tendril of darkness lingered across his features.
“Forgive me, Cade,” she said, fighting more tears. “I have wronged you from the day we met.”
“Isabel –”
“I must speak my mind,” she interjected. “You cannot know how painful the thought of losing you was, how my heart ached for you to know how blessed I am to be your wife. You stole my brother’s madness and suffered beneath the burden so that he might live without it, and I wished you dead.”
“Ye owe me no apology, Lady Cade.” His features glowed with mirth, and he regarded her with tenderness. He ran his thumb over her lips. “I forgave ye when we met. Yer English.”
“I am not,” she replied. “I am Lady Isabel de Clare of Saxony, daughter of a Highland noble and Scottish king and wed to a MacLachlainn. I am more Scottish than you.”
He chuckled. “Verra well, lass.” He rested his forehead against hers once more, and they stayed in the peaceful quiet, listening to one another breath. “Ye doona wish to return to yer uncle in England?”
“No, Cade. I belong here. With you,” she murmured. “I swear to you I will keep no secrets or lie to you again. We will do as you spoke of on our wedding night and trust one another.”
He pulled away, studying her. Light glowed in his eyes, and his smile was warm. “My wife,” he said, touching her face gently.
“My husband,” she replied.
They gazed at each other in silence, and emotion stronger than any she had experienced welled within her. Needing to feel his strength, to reassure herself the storm was over, Isabel flung her arms around him and hugged him hard.
Cade held her, sighing once more. “’Tis true? Your brother is alive?” he asked.
“How can it be?”
“You took his madness, and a Saracen woman rescued him,” she explained. “He is not himself, and he has forsaken Saxony, but he lives.”
“My madness was worth it, if I saved him.”
Her heart swelled, and more tears stung her eyes. “You are a good man, Cade. Forgive me for being too blinded by my anger to see it.”
“I will ne’er let ye go again, Isabel.”
The sky was clear, the sun bright. Surprised by how quickly its warmth and light drove away her fear, she allowed herself to sigh in relief. “The sun shines because of you?”
Cade chuckled then grimaced, holding his stomach with one hand. “Yea. I feel … hope. ‘Tis not natural for me,” he admitted, gazing down at her. “I doona wish t’be apart from ye again, Lady Cade,” he said firmly.
Joy and relief bubbled within her. “’Tis wise, if this is what happens when we are not together,” she retorted.
“My brave, foolish wife. How can I no’ love ye?”
He held her. On the verge of collapsing into a weeping heap, she gripped his tunic. The heat filling her was of a different nature than the lust she recognized from each time they touched. This was deeper, a sense of belonging, of profound affection and gratitude.
“Cade!”
She released him. The disheveled, drenched Father Adam was hurrying towards them, a sheathed dagger in his hand.
“Yer late, Father,” Cade told him.
Breathless, the priest crouched beside them. He tossed the weapon down. “I canna do it,” he puffed.
Cade picked up the dagger and tucked it into the back of his trews. “You willna have to so long as Lady Cade is near me.”
Isabel smiled at the priest, who appeared distraught. Neither of them explained the weapon. Before she could ask, Father Adam turned hopeful features towards her.
“Did ye bring me wine from court?” he asked.
“Niall did,” she replied.
“Ye went t’court?” Cade asked, eyeing her.
“I did,” she replied. “John signed our contract in place of my uncle, and I presented it to the king along with a demand for him to assist me.”
“A demand,” Cade repeated. “Ye commanded the king t’help ye.”
“Your life, my brother’s life, and the lives of every member of your clan were in danger. Of course I commanded him to help,” she replied.
“My sweet lass.” Cade’s gaze misted over. “I doona ken if I can love ye as much as ye deserve but I will try.”
“Build me a keep overlooking the ocean and never leave my side,” she ordered him and then smiled. “’Tis all I ask.”
“And five children?”
She flushed, not expecting him to recall all she had said when he was in his madness.
“Och, ye need a healer before ye can sire children,” Father Adam said. “Lass, ye must fetch Marie’s daughter.”
Isabel started to correct him, to remind him he could not order around the Lady he served. But one look at the exhausted priest’s face, and she rose with what grace she could muster. Her ankle blazed with pain, and she gritted her teeth, unwilling to let her weakness show.
“Remain here,” she directed her husband. “I will fetch her. Do not think to fight or move.”
Cade studied her, as if he, too, were about to remind her who the laird was. “Verra well, Lady Cade,” he said with a crooked smile. “But if ye weren’t leading my men, what lass did I see?”
“Fianna.” Father Adam’s gasp was accompanied by his rising with alacrity Isabel had never seen from the priest. He hurried towards a scarlet cloak dropped amidst debris from the storm.
“’Twas her I saw not Isabel,” Cade said and grunted, climbing to his feet.
Isabel limped to his side to support him. “Is she well?” she asked quickly.
“Richard beheaded her,” Cade replied in a tight voice.
Isabel gasped.
“We dressed her as ye, Lady Cade, in hopes of causing sedition among the English knights fighting with Lord Richard,” the priest explained. “And to take the place of Cade leading our warriors.”
Isabel’s mood saddened. “Fianna was a sweet girl,” she said. “It pains me to hear this. Had I known sooner what kind of man Richard was, I would have acted.”
“Doona think this way,” Cade said gently. “Ye canna see a man’s heart when ye meet him.”
She was quiet, thoughts on Fianna.
“Lord Richard was abandoned by many of his men in this battle. Including his master-at-arms.”
Recalling the knight who had helped her, Isabel twisted to see the battlefield behind her. She was unable to recognize the faces of any of the disheveled, muddy warriors slowly recovering from the tempest. “We must find him and the others,” she said, a spurt of worry pushing away her fatigue. “I journeyed with the king’s stewart and personal guard. I can –”
“Quiet, lass. Ye’ve done enough,” Cade growled and pulled her into his body. “Yer trembling and by yer limp, ye broke yer leg again. Ye need rest.”
She leaned against him, unaware of how taxed her body was until she allowed herself to begin to relax. Her ankle hurt too much to put her full weight on, and she shook from a lack of sleep and food over the past several days.
“I wonder how many more have perished,” she whispered, thoughts on the loyal handmaiden who had trailed her everywhere she went in Cade’s keep.
“Too many,” Cade said, an edge in his voice. “’Tis my fault.”
“You did not start this war, Cade,” she replied.
He shook his head, jaw clenched. “Father Adam, fetch Marie’s lass,” Cade ordered. “We have much to do.”
Father Adam bobbed his head and started away.
“Cade, I can help,” she said and looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest.
“I ken,” he said with a tight smile. “We will do this together.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead.
There is so much to do, she thought with some despair as she surveyed the valley. Laird Duncan’s men had begun gathering on one side of the valley, rounded up and surrounded by the Scottish knights granted her to win her lands. Too few had survived from either side of the battle.
Her eyes fell to three familiar forms approaching them, one of whom was limping. John’s mask had been torn away by the storm, but he walked with purpose, his green eyes on her. He was flanked by Niall, who appeared drenched in mud from head to toe, and Brian, who appeared little better off.
Relief flooded her. “John!” she cried. Unable to walk let alone run to him, she remained where she was, supported by Cade.
“Saxony.” Cade’s tone was hushed.
John stopped a short distance away, a storm in his eyes.
Sensing the depth of emotion between the two, Isabel gently pried herself free of Cade’s arms and hobbled to the side. Neither John nor Cade appeared to know what to say, but her heart was singing with happiness at the sight of the two people she loved most together again.
“Speak to him,” she said softly to Cade and nudged him.
He squeezed her arm lightly and limped towards the scarred man who appeared ready to turn and leave.
Isabel remained where she was, hands clutched together and eyes riveted to the two warriors as they met again for the first time in years.
Niall and Brian joined her.
“I believe we ‘ave ye t’thank for the sea not swallowing us,” Brian said.
“Yea,” Niall agreed. “I havena seen the sun in too long.”
She smiled to herself. “Are the seillie and MacDonald’s safe?” she asked.
“Yea. Too far for the tempest to reach them,” Brian confirmed. “We lost most our warriors.”
“They were good deaths,” Niall said quietly. “Honorable.”
“Many more were spared,” Brian agreed.
Isabel’s gaze swept across the valley. So many were lost. “We will honor their memories and fa
milies with gold and land. No seillie shall ever want for nothing,” she vowed. “So long as I draw breath, no one else will ever threaten us again.”
“Ne’er cross an English lass,” Niall said with a snort.
She said nothing, recalling all she had been through to bring her to this point. Gone were the days when she was helpless and afraid, when her heart had felt shattered and her hope was gone. Gone was the woman she had been, who had not known herself and who feared she would never have a true home again, once her brother died.
There was much to rebuild of her life, but she no longer feared her fate, not when she had found her purpose and place in the world.
“Speaking of English, Lord Richard and his knights are gone,” Brian said. “Cowards.”
“I would not concern myself with them if I were you,” Isabel replied. “If my brother does not serve Richard justice, my uncle will. He will not know peace.”
“’Tis very un-Christian of ye to think ill of another, is it not?” Brian teased.
“Then I will pray oftener,” she said in a hard tone. “But I will see to it he never harms another.”
“Good lass,” Niall murmured.
Cade and John were speaking quietly, and she saw Cade smile first, and then John. Isabel’s thoughts warmed, and she drew a deep, shaky breath. Her ankle was pulsing with pain. Combined with fatigue, she began to feel ill.
Dizziness caused her to stagger. Niall caught her, and Cade rushed to her side, accompanied by an alarmed John.
“I am well,” she assured them with a tight smile. She reached out for Cade with one hand and John with the other. “I have you both back. I have never felt happier.” She pinned her brother with a sharp look. “You will stay with us, John, if you do not choose to return to Saxony.”
His scarred face grew determined. “I have business with Lord Richard. I return to Saxony, if only to handle him.”
For once, Isabel did not feel the need to remind someone violence was a sin.