A Scot's Pledge (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era, #1)

by Purington, Sky

  Chapter Eight

  HE TOOK UP arms in front of Julie when what looked to be three well-armed monks appeared beside the tomb. Though he and da threw magic at them, they somehow deflected it. Not an easy task against two arch-wizards. But then their magic wasn’t at its best.

  “Stay back, Jules,” he roared, attacking the monk warriors alongside da with weapons instead.

  Unfortunately, the monks were as talented at fighting as they were with magic.

  He fought one, da the other while both battled the third on the side, crossing blades with absolute precision. Yet he knew right away he had the advantage with the Viking blade. Something they seemed to know too because all three focused their magic on it. A darkness similar to what he had felt near the tomb.

  After slashing one man’s arm, Tiernan swung and nicked another’s thigh before he leapt forward and kicked the side of the third man’s knee. The monk roared in pain, unable to dodge Adlin’s sword thrust through his neck.

  “Watch out,” Julie cried.

  Tiernan spun and ducked beneath a blade, then went to block another sword coming at him only for it to hit an unseen wall inches from his neck.

  He blinked, trying to make sense of what was happening. A soft bluish-green haze had formed around him connected by a transparent line to Julie’s pendent. He frowned, confused. He had cast a spell on it to protect her, not him. So why was it doing the opposite?

  His father chuckled with delight muttering something about a protector indeed before he drove his sword through the baffled monk trying to attack Tiernan. The other warrior scrambled back, vanishing where he had first appeared.

  “Bloody hell, I didnae want him to escape,” da grumbled. “But, he was quick.” He eyed the sky. “And had the advantage.”

  “And why is that precisely?” Tiernan said. The light around him retracted back to Julie’s pendant before it snapped away altogether.

  “I’ll explain once we get back to the castle,” da replied. “We must let the others know what’s going on.”

  Tiernan and Julie glanced at each other curiously then frowned at da when he simply stood there and looked between them rather than chanting them home. So Tiernan started to chant only for his father to put up a hand and shake his head.

  “I want to see something, Son.” He looked at Julie, quite sure of himself. “What were you thinking about before we were whisked here by the blade? Back in the cottage at the Monastery?”

  “You know what I was thinking about.” She frowned. “The same thing I’m still worried about now. Me being here when it’s supposed to be one of my friends.”

  “So, at root, Tiernan’s safety?”

  “Well, Scotland’s too,” she replied. “Everyone’s for that matter if Tiernan doesn’t hook up with his Broun.”

  “But it all breaks down to my son’s safety, does it not?” Da considered her. “More than it has anyone else that you’ve helped over the years.” Kindness meant to put her at ease, lit his eyes. “’Tis all right to say, lass. ‘Tis okay to put one above all others.”

  “Because he’s your son,” she said softly, clearly not sure if she should put it so bluntly.

  “Because he’s the man you love,” da corrected. “You can only ever put him first...right from the verra beginning.”

  Rather than comment on that, she deflected. “Why do I get the feeling you’re getting at something specific?”

  “Because I am and ‘tis well past time I share it.”

  When Tiernan looked at his father in question, da revealed far more than he anticipated.

  “’Tis a little known fact about arch MacLomain wizards that from the moment their eyes connect with their parents out of the womb, their magic flares for the first time,” he informed. “Though it exists within the womb, it typically lies dormant. ‘Tis a bit of a failsafe to hide them from those who might mean them harm.”

  “Interesting,” Julie murmured. “Dragon magic is obvious right from the point of conception.”

  “Dragons are a different breed altogether,” da reminded. “Anyway, as it so happened, Tiernan was not like other arch-wizard infants. For his eyes never glowed when they met ours, nor did his magic flare. In fact,” his voice dropped an octave as though he were telling a great secret, “Milly and I were fairly certain he wasnae a wizard.” He shook his head. “We didnae think he possessed any magic at all.”

  “Really?” Julie's eyes widened a little. “That must have been shocking...and disappointing.”

  “Nay, we wouldnae have been disappointed,” da chastised. “He was our lad, and that’s all that mattered.” He shook his head again. “He didnae need to possess magic to be a good man. To do good things in life.”

  Though warmed by his father’s words, he was more than baffled.

  “How do I possess magic now, then?” Such as it was in its fluctuating state. “I dinnae ken.”

  “As it turned out, you were a late bloomer,” da informed. There was a curious, fond look on his face when he gazed at Julie. “More than that, ‘twas not our eyes that first sparked your magic but another’s.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” Julie whispered. Her thoughts swirled with his. How adorable she had thought Tiernan was when she held him for the first time swaddled in his MacLomain plaid. How charmed she’d been by the way his little eyes flared with blue magic when they first met hers. “It was...with me?”

  “’Twas,” his father said softly, looking between them. “I knew then that though you werenae a Broun ‘twas important that I took Tiernan to visit you over the years.” Da seemed quite convinced. “You shared a connection that I felt should be nourished.” He winked at Tiernan. “With yer good ma’s full support, of course.”

  “To what end, though?” Julie looked from Tiernan to da, unmistakable pain in her eyes. “Why would you promote this when you knew it was impossible...because you were promoting it weren’t you? Not just a friendship but something more?”

  Da eyed her for a moment before he relented on a sigh. “Aye, I was.” He looked from Julie to Tiernan. “’Twas...and still could be,” he admitted, “a verra heartbreaking decision for all parties involved, but I didnae want to see love lost to obligation and honor. All the things that can stand in the way of two people being happy.”

  “’Twas because of ma,” Tiernan murmured, suddenly understanding. “Because of what happened betwixt you in your previous life. Because of your obligations to Scotland and destiny, you lost nearly a whole lifetime with her before you could spend those last few years together.”

  “Aye,” his father whispered, his eyes pained. “I knew from the moment your magic flared in Julie’s arms, something great existed betwixt you, and I didnae want you to suffer the same pain I did.” He looked from Julie to him again. “You loved her from the verra beginning, Son. It just took on several forms until it became what it was supposed to be.”

  “What about me?” Julie said, at last, blissfully blunt. “Did you ever think about my heart in all this? That in all essence, I’m you in this story, Adlin? That destiny says Tiernan has to turn from me.” Fresh pain saturated her eyes. “That I have to watch him love another like I know you did Mildred in your last life?”

  “I did think of you, lass.” Guilt flared in da's eyes. “And whilst, aye, you’re right, you are me to a degree, our circumstances were much different.” He shook his head. “Either way, I prayed God would bring you together. That He would find a way.” He glanced from Tiernan to her. “And I believe God has.” He shrugged a reluctant shoulder. “Well, in truth, both He and the old gods.” His steady gaze settled on them both. “’Tis no small thing for a mere mortal to spark an arch-wizard’s power, and now I’m beginning to suspect why.”

  “Why?” they said at the same time.

  “Because she is your sworn protector, Son.” Adlin looked between the two, seemingly over his guilt and quite pleased with the situation. “Julie was, in a way, born of both the new God and the old gods.”

>   Chapter Nine

  Argyll, Scotland

  1346

  JULIE HAD NO CHANCE to respond about her potential godliness before the sword, and her pendant wrapped them in bluish-green, white light. Everything vanished only for something she had long dreamed of to appear.

  “Now that,” Adlin declared, grinning, “had nothing to do with protecting you, Tiernan, and everything to do with Julie starting to accept that she might belong here after all.”

  “Oh, wow,” she whispered, staring at the sprawling castle surrounded on three sides by sparkling blue water. Teary, she took in the various turrets, wall-walks, double moats, and portcullises. “That’s it, isn’t it?” She glanced from Tiernan to the castle. “That’s your home...MacLomain Castle.”

  “Aye, lass.” Tiernan squeezed her hand. “Welcome home...at last.”

  “I’m speechless,” she whispered, pointing out the falsity of her statement. “Well, you know what I mean.” She smiled at him for a moment forgetting everything else going on. She never thought she would live this moment. That she would stand here with him and finally see the castle he spoke about so fondly. “Thank you.”

  His eyes softened. “For what?”

  “For...I dunno...this.” Her gaze drifted back to the castle. “For pushing me to come long enough that I at least have this moment...I’ll always have it.”

  “’Twas you who brought us here,” Adlin said softly. “’Twas your magic that made sure you had this moment, lass.”

  “There you are,” came a woman’s exclamation. “I knew I sensed you!”

  “Milly!” Julie smiled and embraced Tiernan’s mom when she appeared out of the woodland. “It’s so good to see you again!”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Milly held Julie at arm's length and looked her over with approval. “Look at you. More beautiful than ever.” She winked. “And looking fabulous in a medieval dress, by the way.”

  “I don’t know about that.” She chuckled. “Alas, I had no choice thanks to being whisked through time.”

  Which brought her mind back to precisely where she was.

  More so, what Adlin had said before they ended up here.

  “Oh, dear, I know that look,” Milly murmured, clearly seeing the weight settling on Julie’s rhetorical shoulders. “We best get her back to the castle, Adlin, so you can explain whatever it is you just told her.”

  Milly blew her son and husband a kiss, took Julie’s hand and pulled her along past a gorgeous towering Oak tree in front of the castle.

  “I don’t belong here,” she began, but Milly, who had obviously been filled in telepathically, interrupted her.

  “You definitely belong here, sweetheart.” She squeezed her hand. “I think you belonged here long before now.”

  “You do?” Both his parents were so confident? “Aren’t you worried that I’m not a Broun?”

  “I think ‘tis best we bring her to my chambers,” Tiernan said. “Before she meets everyone.”

  Well that just got kinky.

  “To talk,” Tiernan said into her mind, amused. “For now, anyway.”

  When she glanced over her shoulder at him, he winked.

  “After all,” he reminded, “there’s a cot at the monastery waiting for us to spoon.”

  Strange as it was to hear a medieval highlander say that, he made her smile.

  Adlin appeared to be ready to do as Tiernan suggested and magically whisk them inside, but she stopped him.

  “Though I’m super eager to understand what you meant back there, Adlin,” she said, sure his magic was out of whack too, and that he must be wrong, “I’d really like the experience of entering the castle like everyone else.” She shook her head. “No magic.”

  “Then you will have your experience,” Tiernan assured before his father could answer. He took his mother’s place and held her hand. “But you will walk in with me.”

  “As friends,” she warned.

  He grinned. “Friends who hold hands.”

  While she could argue it out with him, she’d really rather not. If she were only ever going to do this once, then she would damn well do it the way she’d dreamt it. With him, holding hands if that’s what he wanted. Probably for the best actually out of all the possible scenarios. Because the way she’d always pictured it was silly. Something out of a romance novel.

  The moment she thought it, she cursed because seconds later, she was swept up in his arms.

  “Put me down, Tiernan,” she exclaimed. “This is ridiculous.”

  His grin blossomed into a smile. “Why?”

  “Because I’m not some damsel in distress,” she muttered. She gestured at the drawbridge he carried her over even as she admired it. “Nor do I need to be carried over the threshold, so to speak.”

  “You werenae the only one who wanted it to be like this the first time,” he informed. “Now, we’re both getting what we wanted.” He winked again. “And despite your protests ‘tis clear enough you verra much like it.”

  Damn her traitorous thoughts.

  “This is silly.” Yet she settled in to enjoy the ride and admire the scenery rather than bicker with him.

  Until he dropped his next bombshell.

  “’Twill be a fitting story to tell our wee bairns someday,” he said. “’Twould not have been right for me to merely walk you along.”

  “Children?” she hissed quietly. She peeked around his shoulder to see if Adlin and Milly had heard him. They might be looking elsewhere, but they obviously had based on their smirks. “Damn it, Tiernan.” She rounded her eyes at him. “That’s it, put me down. I’m letting you get away with far too much!”

  “Soon, lass,” he assured, strolling casually beneath the second portcullis when he should be striding. Naturally, they were earning plenty of interested stares from people passing. No wonder. Their laird was carrying a strange woman over the bridge.

  “Besides,” he went on. “’Tis only right, I carry my sworn protector into my castle for her first visit.”

  “Oh, no.” She shook her head and wiggled for him to put her down, but he was far too strong. “You are so not carrying me all the way into the castle.”

  “Well, you did say threshold,” he reminded, his smile firmly in place. “The end of a drawbridge is not a threshold.”

  “Technically, I said a ‘threshold, so to speak,” she grumbled. “Which means not quite a threshold.”

  “’Tis not one at all.” He chuckled. “I will put you down once you’re over the threshold.” He shook his head. “So you might as well enjoy being carried as much as I’m enjoying carrying you.”

  “M’Laird,” a tall, smokin’ hot Scotsman said. He fell in step alongside them as they entered the courtyard. With chiseled, swarthy good looks, he could only be Graham and Christina’s son. “You’re back sooner than expected, Cousin.” He grinned at her, a hard-to-read look in his light green eyes along with recognition if she didn’t know better. “And you’re not alone.”

  “This is my cousin, Ethyn. Acting laird in my absence.” Tiernan did not put her down for proper introductions. “Ethyn, this is Julie.”

  “’Tis good to finally meet you, lass.” Ethyn’s grin only grew. “I cannae say I’m surprised that you’re here instead of a Broun.”

  Though tempted to sigh and scowl at Tiernan, she didn’t want his family to think she was a bitch. So she smiled warmly at Ethyn and made sure he understood she wasn’t allowed to walk on her own two feet. “I’d shake your hand, but Tiernan’s being stubborn and won’t put me down.”

  Ethyn’s brows swept up. “Is that right?”

  “Aye,” Tiernan confirmed, giving it right back to her. “As soon as I see through what she envisioned for her first visit and secretly longed for so she could be close to me, then I will set her down.”

  Ethyn’s smile grew wider still. “Secretly longed for, aye?”

  “Aye.” Tiernan winked at him. “’Tis one of her more mild longings so ‘tis no hardship.”

/>   His cousin chuckled. “Nor would her less mild longings be either, aye?”

  “Hell,” she muttered, figuring these two out quick. Better watch what she said around them because joking seemed to be their preferred language.

  “You just missed Rona and Colmac,” Ethyn informed Tiernan. “Rona sends her regards.”

  “Who are Rona and Colmac?” she asked, taking in the courtyard and everything Tiernan had talked about over the years. The stables, armory, warrior’s quarters as well as numerous cottages. MacLomain Castle had expanded its wall years ago to encompass more villagers. The times were growing especially turbulent, and the more clansfolk inside the wall, the better. Now with their magic fluctuating, she could only imagine.

  “Rona is a second cousin,” Tiernan replied. They started up the stairs to the castle. “She recently married Colmac MacLauchlin, who’s in charge of MacLauchlin Castle until Laird Keenan returns from war.”

  “Which, rumor has it, will be soon,” Ethyn enlightened.

  “Aye, good,” Tiernan replied. “Colmac has done verra well seeing to his clan since the illness but ‘twill be good to have Keenan and his brothers about to help bring things back to what they once were.”

  “Aye,” Ethyn agreed.

  “’Twas around the time of Rona’s return that our magic started fluctuating,” Tiernan revealed to Julie. “She, like any without magic, no longer remembers that magic exists. That her own clan possesses witches and wizards. That we always have.”

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “I knew it was bad, but not that bad.” She looked at Tiernan and frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? This just proves how much you need a Broun hook-up!”

  “Aye, it seems we all do,” Ethyn concurred, opening the castle door for them. “And, as requested, we’re all here to discuss it.”

  All? Seriously? Sure as heck, when they entered the great hall she had long imagined being carried into, three men standing in front of the fire turned their way. Though she wanted to admire the massive nautical tapestries, especially the Viking tapestry, as well as the monstrous mantle with its numerous faces, all she could focus on were them.