Lunch was all but prepared when she reached the kitchens, but she still lent a hand carrying cutlery and plates out into the main hall. Emily and Olivia were both there among the servants and she greeted them happily. They were pleased to see her out of captivity again, but there was an underlying concern in the way they were speaking that told her that they, too, were concerned about the visitors in the village. And they had every right to be. It was a problem… possibly the problem that Anna had been sent to help solve. She knew a little about diplomacy, about managing groups that didn’t like each other very much. Maybe if she could talk her way into the meetings…
No. For now, she’d just gather information. Donal was still probably angry with her — he’d need some time to cool off. She’d do some research, help out with the domestic labor of the castle this afternoon, gather as many rumors as she could, then go to him tomorrow with whatever conclusions she’d drawn. Plan made, she sat down for lunch with the servants, feeling a lot better than she had that morning about where she was and what she was doing. Yes, there was a little bit of pain still associated with the knowledge that she’d never go home again… but that was something she’d deal with later. For now, she had a mission.
And Anna always thrived when she had a mission to pursue.
Chapter 47
Lunch was enlightening. For a start, it felt great to be back in the crowds of people again. Having spent a day and a half almost completely by herself — admittedly with quite a few visitors — Anna hadn’t quite realized how much she’d missed eating in big groups like this. The buzz of the great hall, full of men and women talking and laughing… she spotted the two scholars she’d met the other day, deep in argument over a book even as they slurped hurriedly at their soup and gave them a happy wave. Good to see that they’d managed to drag themselves out of their studies for long enough to have some food, she thought with some amusement.
She spotted Maeve, too, as she was getting up to get herself another cup of water. The tall, slender woman caught her eye across the dining hall and as she recognized her, Anna expected a look of consternation — after all, Maeve had warned her to stay in her room. But the woman only smiled and gave her a little wave. It seemed that the news had spread — Anna’s period of isolation was over. And a good thing, too. She had missed the hustle and bustle of castle life. Everything seemed different now that she knew this place was a permanent home, not a temporary stay — she cared more, somehow, about everyone she saw, about the building itself, even about having helped out with lunch. She had contributed in a small way to the wellbeing of everybody here. That felt good. It wasn’t unlike the impulse she’d had, as a younger woman, to join the Army. Human beings were so small individually, she thought to herself, but in groups — why, they could conquer the world. Or at least, they could conquer whatever strange supernatural creatures came creeping out of the lake.
Not exactly like being in the US military, she thought with some amusement, but close enough for now. She’d take it, at any rate. And just like being in the military, she was resigned, more or less, to earning her place here. Yes, it sucked that she’d have to prove herself ten times as hard as any man had to. It was a good thing that she was also ten times better than any man. At least. Between ten and fifty, she reckoned… and she had the benefit of historical hindsight on her side. Should she worry about time paradoxes? She should have asked Maggie… then again, she had a feeling the little old woman would have brought it up, if it were important. Anna got the feeling that Maggie knew just about everything there was to know about the Sidhe. At least, the stuff the Sidhe wanted to be known about them.
It surprised Anna, then, to hear Maggie’s name mentioned by the girls around her as they gossiped and talked. There was that tone again — low, worried. This wasn’t the fun kind of gossip, the who’s-sleeping-with-who kind of gossip, the gossip that made you giggle and talk in hushed voices. This was much more somber than that, and it sent a thrill of unease down Anna’s back when she picked up the tone of voice among her friends.
“Maggie was the first one to be named,” Emily was saying, her eyes wide and worried. “The villagers have never liked her much… they think she’s weird…”
“Well, she is weird,” Olivia said reasonably, her mouth stuffed full of bread. “But that’s why we love her.”
“Named? What do you mean?” Anna leaned in closer, curious about what the girls meant — and worried about Maggie.
“Oh, Anna, you’ve been out of the loop with everything, haven’t you?”
“Well, Maeve told me a few things — new visitors in the village, something like that — but yes, please fill me in?”
“They’re not just visitors,” Emily said solemnly, her eyes full of worry. “They’re witch hunters, so it’s said, and they’re already interrogating all of our families and friends in the village about who might be a witch out here. There are rumors or reports or something that witchcraft is going on out here, so they’re saying.”
Anna frowned. She knew a little about so-called witch hunters. They were usually just mercenaries with delusions of grandeur — and a keen interest in making as much money as possible off of the fears of superstitious villagers. It seemed that the village near the Loch was a target. Things were complicated, of course, by the fact that … well, a lot of the goings on in the castle would probably qualify as witchcraft. The rituals, the research, the secrecy… but in their defense, how else were they supposed to commune with the very real supernatural beings that dwelled in and around the lake itself? This could be a problem, Anna realized.
“Anyway, the hunters have been interrogating all the villagers. Spending time in the streets, hanging around the tavern, that kind of thing. It’s said that they’ve named a dozen people, including the Laird himself, as potential witches.”
“What does that mean for them?” Anna asked, worried despite herself. Maggie gave off the impression of being able to take care of herself, but she was still just a short-statured old woman in the end… and she lived alone in that little cottage by the lake, too. What would she do if a bunch of soldiers came to interrogate her about her so-called witchcraft? “Are they going to attack them?”
“They’ll investigate them, probably. We haven’t really had any contact with witch hunters before, so we don’t know what they do. Everyone’s pretty scared, though.”
“I heard Maeve was on the list too,” Olivia confessed, her eyes full of fear. “Someone said her eyes aren’t natural, so she must be a witch…”
“Well, they’re not natural, are they?” put in another servant. “They’re a gift from the Fair Folk.”
“And what, you think witch hunters would give a damn about the difference? Oh, our mistake, it’s not witchcraft, it’s faeries, that’s completely different, sorry to disturb you?” Olivia snapped, making Anna giggle despite her worry. “The hunters aren’t going to care about what we actually do here, about the fact that the castle’s about keeping people safe from malicious magic, not perpetuating it. My family’s threatening to disown me,” she said, and Anna could see how much it was bothering her. “They sent me a letter saying I’m to come home at once and cut off all ties with anyone I know here.”
There was a hush at the table. Emily spoke first, tentatively: “Are you going to do it?”
Olivia snorted, tossing her head. “Of course I’m not. It’d take more than a few stupid old witch hunters to get me out of this place. They can carry me out when I’m dead and not before. But —" She hesitated a little, the fire giving way. “I’m worried about my family. I’m scared that they’re being pressured to write to me like that. I mean, they’ve always been as superstitious as anyone about the Fair Folk… they have a horseshoe nailed up above their doorway and they leave bowls of milk out for the faeries, they do everything like that. I’m worried the witch hunters are making them try to get me to come home… and what’s going to happen to them if I don’t?”
“I’m sure Laird Donal will sort it
out,” Anna said firmly, trying to sound like she had more faith in Donal than she actually did. How was he at negotiating, she wondered? Would he lose his temper with these mercenaries the way he’d lost his temper with her? Or would the fact that they were all men keep him in line long enough to actually come to a solution? She hoped so. And she hoped, fervently, that he’d at least listen to her a little bit. She might have the power to help with this situation. What Maggie had said — about her being sent back here for a specific purpose — came back to her mind, and she frowned to herself. Could her specific purpose be this? Or was it more general than that — more broad? It must have something to do with Donal, right? She’d have to figure it out.
The somber tone persisted through lunch, and Anna listened as much as she could, nibbling at crusty bread and enjoying the delicious soup that had been made in huge pots out the back. She felt a little guilty for not helping as much as she could have with the cooking, so to make up for it she worked twice as hard when they began to clean up, fetching and carrying as many bowls and plates as she could carry. It was good, exhausting work. The soup had banished the last of the tipsiness she’d felt from her aborted attempt at getting blackout drunk earlier that afternoon, and overall, she was feeling pretty good. She had a new mission, now — deal with the witch hunters.
But she’d learned, from the disaster that had been her attempt at dealing with the wolf (politically, at least — she’d stand by her pride in having saved everyone’s lives) that she couldn’t go solo when it came to this mission. She supposed she could try to sneak out, wander off to the village herself, gather some information and reason with the witch hunters, but it didn’t seem likely that that would be helpful. They’d probably think she was a witch, if she wasn’t careful — a woman by herself, clearly intelligent and forthright, trying to negotiate? Then the castle would be in even more trouble than it already was. No, she’d need to play this one carefully. This would be a game of manipulation. And unfortunately, though it pained her to realize it, she was going to have to make amends with Donal. It was the only way she was going to be able to help resolve the rather dangerous situation they found themselves in.
Because unfortunately, the servants’ fears she’d overheard at lunch had not been unfounded. She knew that witch hunters, whatever their motives, could be incredibly dangerous. Some of them truly believed they were doing important religious work, and some of them were just in it for the money and power… but either way, a lot of harm could come to a lot of innocent people. Donal had the power to avert the crisis, and he’d have to handle it carefully. She couldn’t figure out whether these witch hunters were mercenaries or actual religious men — from what the servants were saying in the kitchen as she set about scrubbing plates, it seemed they had a priest with them. Easy enough to pretend to be a priest — just an outfit and some Latin, after all, would fool most peasants — but if he was a real priest, they may be in trouble. Real priests had real connections to real religious organizations… which were a lot more dangerous and powerful in medieval times.
She needed more information, that was all. Concrete information, not just rumors, too — though she was getting plenty of those in the kitchens. It seemed that a handful of widows who still lived in the village, older women all, were on the list of suspected witches. That was simultaneously worrying and reassuring. Worrying, because older women who lived alone had very little power to look after themselves. And reassuring, because it probably meant that the witch hunters didn’t understand what was actually going on here… that the castle was, in fact, full of occultists, herbalists, and other such practitioners who, to the unpracticed eye, were probably indistinguishable from witches. What was a witch, anyway, Anna wondered? Just an intelligent woman with a knack for herbs or medicine? Maybe not, if Donal was on the list of the accused (though an image of him wearing a long pointed black hat did give her quite a fit of the giggles for a minute, which she hid by ducking low over the soapy water.)
After the cleanup was under control, Anna decided there was no time like the present for going to find Donal. She wasn’t looking forward to trying to make amends with the man, but she gritted her teeth and proceeded regardless. It was just one of those things she’d have to do — like going to the dentist or paying taxes. Hey, at least neither of those would ever be a problem again. Giggling a little, but mindful of the importance of her task, Anna began climbing the stairs that would take her, yet again, to Donal’s doorstep.
A tiny, treacherous part of her was greatly looking forward to seeing him… for selfish reasons that had nothing to do with the problem of witch hunters.
Chapter 48
Despite her determination, Anna found herself wavering just a little on the long walk to Donal’s door. She felt self-conscious, somehow — worried that she’d been in the wrong all along, that he had been right to imprison her. Second-guessing herself wasn’t like her, she thought, surprised. What was going on there? Perhaps on some level, she felt she’d been too harsh with him. She might be right… after all, when they’d argued, she’d been operating under the assumption that she was a temporary guest of the castle, that she’d be gone within a few days and none of this would have mattered at all. That was no longer the case. She was staying for good… and if she’d known that then, she might have been a little gentler in her criticism of him. Oh, well. Too late for all of that now. All she could hope to do was talk to him, to be as honest and humble as she could, and hope against hope that he’d do the same. She couldn’t imagine Donal being humble. Well, he’d just have to learn, she thought with a flair of irritation. Lord knew she’d done her share of learning new things since she’d come here. Why, she was becoming a lot better at embroidery than she’d thought possible. Just that very morning she’d been toying with the idea of finding thread in different colors, to embroider some flowers onto the piece of fabric that had become her masterpiece. If she, Anna Clarke, career soldier and butch girl extraordinaire could get legitimately interested in sewing tiny flowers onto a piece of cloth, Donal bloody Grant could shut up and listen to her for five minutes.
With this spirit of aggression — tempered by her determination to negotiate carefully and to navigate his stubbornness and temper with care — Anna found herself in front of the man’s door. She knocked, her chin raised, ready to fight him. He opened the door, and she blinked, a little surprised despite herself. He looked — rather ragged. He clearly hadn’t slept as much as he’d needed to — his usually handsome face was looking a little weathered (still handsome, though, she couldn’t help but observe with a secret little thrill) and he had a scruffy beard beginning to grow in.
But that didn’t surprise her as much as the look on his face. He looked honestly happy to see her. More than happy — overjoyed. And to her absolute shock (and more than a little bit of surprise) he swooped on her, swinging her up and into his arms, a bruising embrace that was somehow exactly what she needed. She laughed a little, too surprised by the gesture to even be annoyed about its suddenness, and as he put her back down lightly on the ground, he pressed a kiss to her lips that threw her completely off her guard. They broke apart after a long moment — much longer, if Anna was honest, than decorum truly allowed for. She felt dizzy, and her heart was beating hard — she resisted the urge to raise a hand to her lips, trying to get hold of her senses again. Ridiculous. It was just a friendly kiss… a friendly kiss of greeting, with more tongue than strictly necessary… not that she was complaining….
“Um, hello,” she managed, raising an eyebrow at him.
He laughed aloud, a little breathless — she had to admit she’d lost her composure too, and her breath was moving a little faster than it should have been in her chest. It must have been the stairs, she told herself, trying to gather her wits.
“Good afternoon,” he said, grinning widely at her.
He knew what he was doing, the bastard, she thought with a flare of irritation — but it was tempered with affection. God, how could he do th
at? So charming! Too charming for his own good, she decided with a little shake of herself. Get hold of yourself, Anna, he’s just a handsome man, not some kind of mind-controlling monster.
“Listen,” she started. “I wanted to talk to you —”
He held up his hand to stop her, and to her chagrin, she stopped. The kiss, she blamed it on the kiss. It had thrown her right off her rhythm. “You don’t have to say anything, Anna. I know you’re here to make amends. I’d like to as well.”
“Is that so?”
“It was wrong to imprison you in your room,” he said quickly, as though worried she was going to start yelling at him again.
Good, she thought coolly. He was a quick learner. She took a seat at the other side of his table, which was even more covered in loose paper and mess than it had been a few nights ago, when she’d visited him here for the first time.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I acted rashly, in anger, and it was ill advised.”
“So it was. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Well,” he said, giving her a warning look. “I’ve been thinking about that since our — uh, discussion the other day. And I’ve discussed it with some of my advisors.”
“Brendan?”
“Aye, Brendan. Oh, you met him the night you came, of course,” Donal said, nodding.
Anna let him assume that that was the beginning and end of her association with the man, but she couldn’t help grinning to herself. It seemed Brendan hadn’t let Donal in on any of their brief flirtation. That was interesting. A tool to use later, perhaps, if it became necessary to make Donal jealous… but right now, with the full force of his rather charming attention on her, Anna didn’t see any need to try to make him jealous.
RESCUED BY THE HIGHLANDER Page 29
