Highlander Lord of Fire

by Donna Fletcher

  “If all else failed, I would run to protect my child,” Snow said.

  It pleased him to know his wife would be courageous enough to do what was necessary to protect a bairn of theirs.

  “I’ve thought of that. But wouldn’t you tell our bairn why you ran?” he asked.

  Snow tilted her head and scrunched her brow, giving his question thought. “I’m not sure. What if what I knew, a secret of sorts, placed him in even more danger?”

  “But if others knew it as well and he didn’t, not knowing certainly wouldn’t help him.”

  “True,” she agreed, nodding, “and secrets don’t always stay secret.” She shook her head. “It is puzzling.” She rested her hand on his chest. “The dead man I tripped over. He was here for a reason and not far from your home. He could have been bringing you a message.”

  “Or he could have been here to do harm.”

  “Have you been able to find out anything about him?” Snow asked. She felt his body tense slightly. “You know something. Tell me.” His hesitation told her of his reluctance to respond. “Why wouldn’t you want to share it with me?” She gasped at a sudden thought. “Is it that you don’t trust me? We are only wed a day and I suppose we really don’t know each other well, though I feel so comfortable with you like I’ve somehow known you forever.”

  He kissed her gently to stop her from saying anymore. “I’ve trusted you since that day you told my da I was lying about Sorrell climbing the tree, seeing how fiercely you protected your sister. And that trust deepened when you spoke to me and challenged me—and definitely frustrated me—like no other ever did or would attempt to do. You have my trust, my heart, and my love.”

  She smiled and kissed him quick, glad her lips landed on his so perfectly, as if she could actually see them.

  “I will keep them all safe and tucked away inside me,” she said. “Tell me what you found out.”

  “Not going to let it go, are you?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “To solve the puzzling mystery, we need all the pieces.”

  Tarass relented and had a feeling he’d be relenting often to his wife. “I left shortly after your departure to visit with my mum’s people and see what they could tell me about the dead man with the markings on his body.”

  He didn’t tell her that he’d left because the keep wasn’t the same without her there. Or more simply that he missed her, a revelation that had startled him. He left, thinking distance would change that. It had worsened it.

  “I found someone, who told me what I’d already known myself, an elder in a tribe known to my mum’s people. He told me the man was probably a Pict, also known as the painted people, from northern Scotland, though he said no Pict had been seen for about two hundred or so years now. And it was not like they could be missed with the way they marked their bodies. He said they now mostly lived in the old tales and legends, since their time had come and long gone. I’m familiar with the legend of the Pict and knew they were no more. I still question whether the dead man was a Pict or not. I thought perhaps the dead man could be from one of the tribes far north that keep to themselves and are rarely seen, but I couldn’t confirm that.”

  “I was told you have a marking on your arm? It is unusual to have one. Why do you?” she asked, curious.

  “It’s a custom of my mum’s people, a single marking designating something that pertains to the individual. Mine shows I am a victorious warrior many times over.”

  “I can attest to that since you’ve rescued me more than once and thankful I am for it,” she said, “which reminds me. That day you found me in the snowstorm. You mentioned you were meeting someone. Did it have anything to do with your parents?”

  “I’m going to be honest with you, wife.”

  “Is this something that is one time only or something you intend to do often?” she asked with a soft giggle.

  He poked her in the side. “Very funny. I will always be honest with you.”

  “Or say nothing at all?” This time no humor filled her voice.

  How had she gotten to know him so well?

  “Sometimes it is better you don’t know,” he said.

  Snow took hold of his hand and brought it to rest against her chest. “It is not easy being blind. Sometimes it’s actually frightening, but I have no choice in the matter. So when you tell me that you purposely keep me blind to something that goes on, it not only hurts more than I can say, but frightens me as well. Please, don’t make me any more blind than I already am.”

  Tarass rarely regretted anything. The last time was when he hadn’t been there to protect his parents. It had hurt worse than any physical wound and he felt that hurt now.

  He rested his cheek to hers before his lips tenderly touched hers in a brief kiss. “You have my word, ást, from this moment on, I will tell you everything.”

  “That pleases me more than you know, husband,” she said and smiled. “So what is it you haven’t been honest with me about that you’re about to be honest with me?”

  “That day I found you in the snowstorm… I was to meet with Finn.”

  “My Finn?” she asked, surprised.

  “Aye, your Finn.”

  She shook her head. “Why?”

  “He provided me with information.”

  Her brow went up. “What information?”

  “Any and all information he came across when James sent him with messages from clan to clan.”

  “He spied for you?” she asked, shaking her head again, not believing it.

  “He kept me apprised of things going on in the area. I had received a message that he had something important that he had discovered and would meet with me on his way home with you.”

  “That’s why he agreed with me about leaving my sister’s when everyone else had urged me to stay in case the snow worsened. And why we were closer to your home than to mine. He detoured to meet with you, and, of course, he didn’t have to worry about me since I couldn’t see.”

  “I had hoped that he might hear some gossip about my parents that would help open a door to what happened here that caused my da not to return home and my mum to flee with me.”

  “You think he may have learned something and that’s why he was killed?”

  “It’s possible,” Tarass said.

  “You think the dead man was the one who killed him?”

  “That’s something I don’t know, but what I do know is that Finn was the one marked for death, whoever killed him had no interest in you or you would be dead now too.”

  A light snow was falling when Snow took Thaw outside later in the day. Nettle walked with her, detailing everything she saw around them.

  “The village is quiet, many feeling safer inside than out, though most agree that if the dwarfs wanted to find their prey, nothing would stop them. But I don’t know what the dwarfs would want with the likes of this group since they’re all claiming ignorance.”

  Snow chuckled.

  “Runa is busy with demands for amulets to keep them safe.”

  That news brought a worry to Snow. If a cleric or the abbot arrived and saw that, it would not bode well for her and Tarass. But she couldn’t nor would she prevent anyone from seeking and using something they believed would protect them.

  “Runa is busy enough, having three women near ready to give birth,” Nettle went on talking. “Two are first births and the other a third birth. Helga doesn’t need much help. All are amazed at how easily she delivers her bairns. But some say her mum or grandmother, maybe both, had been a healer and she knows about birthing better than most.”

  “Do not keep Lady Snow out long, Nettle, the snow grows heavier,” Rannock ordered.

  “I know how to look after Lady Snow, you don’t have to tell me,” Nettle said.

  “You’re busy talking and not paying attention,” Rannock argued. “Do you not see how the snowfall has turned heavier?”

  Nettle planted her hands on her hips as she took steps to stand right in front of Rannock. “D
o you think I cannot see that for myself?”

  “Watch your tongue with me, woman,” Rannock said.

  “You make demands that are not necessary,” Nettle said, standing face to face with Rannock.

  An arm hooked around Snow’s. “Let the couple argue since it’s the only way they’ll ever get together, and come join me for a hot brew.”

  Snow recognized Twilla’s raspy voice and followed along with the woman, Thaw keeping pace beside her.

  “Nettle and Rannock?” Snow couldn’t help but shake her head. “An unlikely pair to me.”

  “As perfect and unlikely a pair as you and Tarass?” Twilla’s chuckle was as raspy as her voice. “The one you’re looking for isn’t always the one you find.”

  Snow thought about Sorrell and Willow and their husbands, and how true Twilla’s words were.

  Twilla led her to a chair at a table after entering her cottage.

  Snow pushed her cloak off her shoulders to fall over the back of the chair as she settled into the seat.

  “A hot brew to warm you and heat my old bones,” Twilla said.

  Snow turned her head in the direction of Twilla’s voice and saw the flicker of a flame, orange and yellow in color, in the hearth. It swayed and shivered as it ate at the log. It couldn’t be her imagination. She watched as it faded slowly, such a glorious sight, and she rubbed at her eyes, hoping to somehow bring the image back into focus, but it was lost.

  Keep hope in your heart, my daughter, and you will see again.

  She kept hope strong that her mum had been right and her sight would return at least enough for her not to depend on others to help her. But like her sister Willow, there was a practical side to her, which reminded that she also had to be prepared if her sight never returned.

  Twilla placed a tankard by Snow’s hand. “It’s hot be careful.”

  “What was Tarass’s mum like,” Snow asked, hoping to gather more pieces to the puzzle. “I recall some about his da, though it was more fear I had of him. I thought his head touched the sky when I looked up at him from a young bairn’s small height.”

  “He was a big man, much like his son, though Tarass is a bit taller. He’s as handsome as his da and carries himself with strength just as his da did. His mum was a beautiful woman. It was difficult for men not to glance more than once at her.” Twilla laughed. “It was even more difficult for his da to handle. She had a kind yet strong nature and was a good wife and mum.”

  Snow decided to ask. “Why did his da leave here suddenly only to have Tarass and his mum do the same?”

  “You ask what Tarass has asked endlessly, but only his mum and da have the answer.”

  For some reason Snow didn’t believe her. “It must have been difficult for Tarass’s mum—”

  “Haldana. Her name was Haldana.”

  “Difficult for Haldana in a new home with no friends to talk with.”

  “Haldana had Tarass’s da. They were inseparable. They needed no one else, though after Tarass’s grandda came to adore Haldana, many in the clan came to admire and respect her. And for a good reason. She was a wise woman and offered wise advice.”

  The rasp in Twilla’s voice wasn’t enough to hide how much the woman cared for Haldana. And Snow suspected that Twilla and Haldana had come to be good friends and that Twilla knew more about Tarass’s parents than she was saying. But why? Why wouldn’t she confide to Tarass what she might know about his parents that would help him?

  “Where is my wife?” Tarass demanded when he came upon Nettle and Rannock arguing.

  The two looked around and Nettle paled.

  “She was here a moment ago,” Nettle said.

  “I saw her myself,” Rannock agreed.

  “She isn’t here now and are you sure it was only a moment ago that you saw her? The snow-covered ground shows no signs of footfalls,” Tarass said, fear jabbing at him. “She could not have gone off alone unless Thaw led her somewhere.” His anger was growing. “How could you let this happen after the problems of last night.” He spotted Runa and called to her. “Have you seen my wife, Runa?”

  Runa shook her head. “No, my lord, I have been busy tending to a birth and I’m on my way to see how Helga does, since her husband fetched me. But if I see her I will tell her you are looking for her.”

  Tarass turned to Nettle and Rannock. “Find her. Now! And know this will not go unpunished.”

  The pair hurried off in opposite directions, Nettle thinking that Snow may have returned to the keep and Rannock thinking her endless curiosity may have taken her to the shed where the one body was being kept.

  Tarass stood where he was, fear starting to creep over him. Where had she gone? Wherever she had gone off to, Thaw was with her and while he was still only a pup, he fiercely protected her. If, God forbid, she was hurt, Thaw would go for help. He would run to find him and bring him to her.

  “My lord, you search for Lady Snow?”

  Tarass turned to see the young lad, Roy, who had participated in the snowball fight the last time Snow had been here.

  “You know where she is?” Tarass asked.

  “I saw her go with Twilla to her cottage.”

  “Good for you for keeping a sharp eye, lad. You will make a fine warrior one day. Go to the kitchen and tell Cook I said you were to get a treat, a good-sized treat.”

  The lad beamed with pride, bobbed his head, and took off running.

  Tarass went to Twilla’s cottage and didn’t bother to knock. He opened the door and walked in anger spewing with his words. “Never do that again.”

  Snow looked at him bewildered while Twilla grinned.

  “What did I do?” Snow asked.

  “You went missing and I feared the worse.”

  “Oh,” Snow said and went to stand, tripping on the hem of her cloak as she did.

  Tarass’s arm caught her at the waist and steadied her, and he never felt so relieved to have her wee body safe in his arms.

  “My apologies, husband, I can only guess that Nettle and Rannock were so busy arguing that they never saw me walk off with Twilla. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  How was it that his wife could deflate his anger with nothing more than a few choice words and leave him with a heavy dose of guilt when he hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “I certainly don’t want to worry you needlessly,” Snow said, placing her hand on his arm.

  “You’ve got yourself a good wife, Lord Tarass,” Twilla said.

  He caught the grin on the old woman’s face. “I should be angry with you, Twilla.”

  “For heaven’s sake, why?” Snow asked.

  Twilla laughed. “For not telling him that you were the one I knew would be his wife, and a perfect one at that.”

  Snow laughed. “He wouldn’t have believed you.”

  “You know him well,” Twilla said.

  “As he does me,” Snow said and looked up at her husband and thought she saw the outline of his chin as she had thought she had done earlier, but once again it faded.

  “Visit with me again, Lady Snow. I enjoy talking with you,” Twilla said.

  “I will, for I enjoyed our talk as well,” Snow said and sensed the old woman had much to tell her.

  Tarass helped his wife on with her cloak, and Thaw rushed out the door as soon as it opened to hurry and roll around in the snow as he followed them through the village.

  “Dusk has fallen and the snow has turned heavy,” Tarass said, keeping a firm arm around hers as they walked.

  “Is it possible to share the evening meal in our bedchamber? I prefer to be alone with you the rest of the night,” she said.

  “I was thinking the same myself and I will see it done.”

  “Good. I am hungry for food and my husband,” she said with a wicked smile and raise of her brow.

  Tarass leaned his head down. “I’ll make certain both appetites are well satisfied tonight, wife.”

  “You found her,” Rannock called out as he hurried toward th
em, Nettle at his side.

  “No thanks to either of you,” Tarass snapped.

  “I take full responsibility as does Nettle, but at the moment there is something you need to know,” Rannock said and didn’t wait for permission to speak. “A cleric has arrived from the monastery and he demands to see you.”

  Chapter 22

  “I will go with you to hear the message,” Snow said, slipping her cloak off after entering the Great Hall and Nettle taking it from her. “Nettle, please see that Thaw is fed while we see to this.”

  Snow didn’t need to see her husband to know he was angry. She had felt it in the muscles of his arms as they grew taut around her. He was the one who made demands not answered to them.

  When her husband didn’t argue with her, she grew concerned that his anger had mounted and he might react poorly to the messenger. Not a wise choice, since it would only reflect badly on the already difficult situation.

  Tarass led her out of the Great Hall and when he stopped shortly afterwards, Snow tugged at his arm before he could open his solar door. “Anger will not benefit this matter.”

  Tarass took a needed breath, feeling as if he hadn’t been able to breathe, his anger choking him.

  He leaned down and rested his brow to hers. “I will not lose you, ást. I wasted enough time refusing to listen to my heart, I will waste no more.”

  “You can never lose me, Tarass. I love you far too much, and I am far too stubborn and relentless in my love for you to let anyone take me from you. We are one and will remain one and that is the message this person can take back to the abbot.”

  Tarass kissed his wife and his tightening loins let him know he should see this meeting end quickly and enjoy the evening alone with her in their bedchamber.

  Tarass kept hold of his wife’s hand as they entered his solar.

  A short man, wearing the dark brown, hooded robe of the monastery clerics, turned from where he stood, holding his hands out to the fire. His plain features were marked with heavy lines from what appeared to be a perpetual scowl.