A Laird and a Gentleman

by Gerri Russell

  Her breath caught as it had in the dream. She struggled for air as a dark force overwhelmed her. Only a dream, she tried to tell herself, even though she knew that it wasn’t.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You’re trembling.” Cameron’s hand tightened on Mariam’s as they stood at the railing of The Fortune. The late afternoon breeze had a bite to it, promising a chilled start to their journey ahead. “Are you frightened?”

  She could not meet his gaze, fearful of what might show in her eyes. He would never allow her off the ship if she told him about her dream. Instead, she would find a way to change the outcome. Even though she had never done so before, who was to say that she could not change her own fate?

  But what if she didn’t prevail? What if these moments were the last they would spend together? Careful to hide her thoughts, Mariam brought her gaze back to his but despite her best efforts, tears gathered, yet she refused to let them fall. Now was not the time for tears.

  She turned away, focusing on the shores of Scotland behind them. The shoreline was no longer visible through a haze of yellowish gray. “Behind us, there is still danger to so many.” She returned her attention to the shores of the isle that grew ever closer. “Ahead of us, the sky is clear, blue, and yet, there is danger there as well. The ash is following us. It will reach the isle, and our moment of respite will be gone.”

  “Over the years I have learned avoiding danger is no safer than charging at it head-on,” Cameron said, squeezing her hand. “Life is either a daring, unknown adventure, or it is nothing. I choose adventure. What about you?”

  She looked down at their entwined fingers and something iron-hot coiled in her chest. “I’ve never thought of myself as brave before.”

  He lifted her chin with a finger until their gazes met. “You are the bravest woman I have ever known. You are as strong as you are special.”

  Mariam looked up into his comforting gray eyes and felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude and more, something so much deeper. The words she longed to say sat lightly upon her tongue. “Cameron, I—”

  The ship trembled as it came to a stop. On the northern tip of the isle ahead, a wild rustle of wings shivered through the air as birds suddenly left the seaside cliffs for the sky.

  Ravens. White ravens. Hundreds of them circled overhead. Not gulls. Ravens.

  Mariam’s gaze fixed on the isle as a swirl of magic rushed through her. She inhaled sharply. The closer they got to the isle, the more magic flowed through her—raw and unbridled. Was that a good thing or a bad one?

  Refusing to give herself over to the sensations completely, she focused once more on the landmass before her. The land tilted toward the eastern shore where a small beach lay nestled among the tall, gray basalt cliffs. Suddenly, Mariam was dizzy with fear about what lay ahead. She tried to pull her hand from Cameron’s. “Perhaps I should go alone. You have risked enough for me already.”

  He held tight, and gave her hand a squeeze. “Nay, Mariam. We are doing this together. Come with me.”

  With a deep shuddering breath, she shoved her fear aside and followed him to where the boat they would take ashore was lowered into the water, and a rope ladder was extended down.

  She was about to start her descent, when Mistress MacInnes came above deck. “I am going with you,” she said, her voice stronger than it had been for days. Her dark veil was pulled tightly about her face, preventing the wind from snatching it away. “I know this isle better than either of you from the stories your mother used to tell.”

  Mariam was about to object, when Nessie added, “I know what it is you search for—the ashes of the ancients and the cauldron of Brānwen—the gifts left to you by your mother.”

  “Brānwen . . . a daughter of Llyr,” Mariam whispered.

  “You remember?” Nessie’s words were breathless.

  Mariam clutched the railing as images raced through her mind at the mention of the goddess’ name. “Nay, not really,” she admitted. “When you said her name, in my mind I saw a flash of green and gold and something more that refused to take shape—then it was gone.”

  “You’ll remember more as you awaken,” Nessie replied. “As you do, I must be there with you.”

  Mariam glanced at Cameron who nodded.

  “Then let us begin,” he said as the three of them made their way down the ladder and into the waiting boat. As Cameron rowed the boat toward shore, the waves of the North Sea curled beneath them, carrying them forward and sending a spray of salty water into the air.

  Mariam shivered as the salty mist penetrated her clothing and dampened her hair. Looking ahead, she saw craggy rocks jutting from the water like battlements worn to dangerous points over the ages by the relentless pounding of the waves. In the late afternoon light, they would easily get to shore around the obstacles. But darkness would be upon them soon, meaning they would have to remain on the isle all night to avoid a deadly return to Cameron’s ship.

  A brisk, cool wind kept them alert as they headed for the shore. Mariam experienced a momentary pang of regret at leaving the ship behind. She and Cameron had found moments of happiness there. But those stolen moments were gone now. Their future relied on successfully completing the task ahead.

  With the help of the waves, it didn’t take long to reach the shore. As the boat came to a stop, Cameron jumped into the calf-high waves and pulled the boat fully onto the sand. Offering his hand, he assisted first Nessie, then her out.

  “I assume we need to head inland?” Cameron asked the older woman.

  Nessie nodded. “In the middle of the isle is St. Adrian’s priory built three hundred years ago by Benedictine monks. They lived in harmony with your mother’s people who came to the isle centuries prior. The two were able to preserve the old ways while at the same time respecting the new until the Reformation started, causing the church leaders to sell the isle to your father.”

  “Then what we seek is located at the priory?” Cameron asked, taking Nessie by the hand and guiding her up the steep slope from the beach.

  “I do not know for certain. Your mother might have assumed you would know where to look when the time was right.”

  “How will I know if I have never been here before?” Mariam asked as she followed behind the two, watching Nessie’s steps grow lighter and less awkward as they made their way fully onto the fertile soil above.

  “Trust your instincts, Mariam. I’m sure that is what your mother would advise if she were here with you,” Nessie replied as they started off toward ruin in the distance.

  “Why are the ancestors’ ashes so important?” Mariam asked quietly. The very air around her seemed to still as though holding its breath, waiting for the answer.

  “The ashes contain all the magic of those who came before.”

  “No one has ever sought to gain that power in all the centuries that have passed?”

  “The legend passed down from generation to generation claimed that only the daughter of a ninth daughter can manifest that power into herself on the nineteenth year of her birth.” Nessie’s gaze met and held Mariam’s. “Your mother was a ninth daughter, so you Mariam, are the one.”

  Mariam’s stomach tightened and her steps faltered. The message in her shell had said in seven days’ time she would ‘come into her own.’ At midnight, she would enter her nineteenth year. Memories that were not her own stirred inside her mind, tantalizing her, tormenting her with snippets of crumbled rock, of a dark recess, of green and gold light. So close, and yet too far away to grab them and make any sort of sense of what she saw. Had these impressions come to her in her dreams? Was that why they seemed so familiar?

  “What does the cauldron have to do with any of this?” Mariam asked.

  “The cauldron, and its otherworldly metal, gave the ancestors the power over life and death when they brewed a potion inside it.”

  Mariam frowned. “If that is so, then why did the ancestors not save themselves?”

  “Because, although a person may
be brought back to life, they would be mute. It is the sacrifice that must be paid. Instead of a kindness, over time, the ancestors came to realize the cruelty of such a gift and hid the cauldron away.”

  “It sounds as though these things might be better off hidden from the world.”

  “From the world, aye. But not from you. Your mother was insistent that you needed to find these things to become who you were meant to be.”

  Still not quite understanding how all the pieces fit together, Mariam decided to trust what her mother had wanted her to do. She closed her eyes, trying to grab hold of a thread of memory when something solid came to her—a thousand flat, rectangular rocks stacked high. They looked like the burial cairns she had seen dotting the Scottish landscape from ages past. She sighed, opened her eyes, and looked at Nessie once more. “I think I saw a cairn. What does that mean?”

  “It means you have identified where we must go. There is a cairn just north of the ruins. Can you see it there in the distance?”

  Cameron frowned. “If we are to reach it before sundown, we will need to go a little faster. Are you capable of that?”

  “I will keep up,” Nessie replied before Cameron set a faster pace across the grassy plains.

  The moon slipped out from behind a stream of clouds and painted the landscape before them in shades of silver and blue. Shadows crouched behind boulders they passed and wind whispered through the grass. Hazy light filtered down from the heavens, guiding the way forward. Tranquil beauty temporarily touched the small world around her that was so at odds with the devastation and suffering they had left behind, or the ash cloud that was heading their way.

  Half an hour later, they reached their destination and gathered at the base of a cairn. It was only a pile of rocks, and yet Mariam stared at them spellbound, scarcely breathing. Was what they sought inside?

  *

  Cameron’s gaze was on Mariam, and he knew that even if they did not find any answers about her past on the isle, he would still be grateful to have this moment with her. He would remember the expression of glowing radiance reflected on her face until the day he died. As she studied the cairn, Cameron looked about the area. From the rise they now stood upon, he could see the remnants of what had obviously been a formal garden at one time, but were now tangled and overgrown. Cutting through the garden was a series of three paths, like the arms of a tree, which joined each other to form a base that stopped at the edge of the cairn.

  Cameron bent lower to study the collected silt and compost at his feet, suddenly noticing a splash of blue beneath the years of accumulated decay. His heart sped up. He reached for his dagger and slowly scraped at the ground to reveal a mosaic made entirely of shells.

  It took all three of them clearing the debris before they revealed a decorative band that encircled the cairn. Against a blue background lay small white flowers in a pattern that was broken after every ninth flower with a shell identical to the one Mariam wore about her neck.

  “This is obviously the place we were meant to find,” Cameron said. “Do you know what it is you should do now, Mariam?”

  “The only clue we have is the shell my mother gave me. Perhaps it is a key of sorts.” Beside him Mariam removed her necklace, and going to her knees, placed the shell atop one of the others in the pattern.

  Nothing happened, then all at once the grass shuddered and the earth beneath their feet rumbled. A bolt of blue-white lightning snaked from the sky above and struck the cairn. Rocks vibrated then rained from the pile, tumbling past them down the hill they had just scaled. Then as suddenly as it started, the motion stopped.

  The three of them stood perfectly still, gaping at the giant opening in the chambered cairn before them. “Are we supposed to go in there?” Mariam asked, finding her voice before the others.

  “I believe so,” Nessie replied, then shaking off her surprise, she stepped up to the opening and entered the darkness.

  Mariam picked up her necklace and put it back on. “Wait,” Mariam called after the older woman. “I should go alone.”

  “Nay. Never alone. Not anymore.” Cameron retrieved a length of cloth from his sporran and wrapped it about his dagger. Next, he took out his flint and steel and struck them together, deftly directing the sparks toward the cloth until it caught and flared. Makeshift torch in hand, he asked, “Are you ready? This is what we came to do. We cannot turn back now.”

  “Why would you risk so much for me?” Her face was pale as her gaze fixed on the opening.

  “I would risk everything for you,” he replied, taking her chin in his hands and bringing her gaze to his. “I thought you knew that.”

  Her eyes flared with surprise at something she saw on his face. “I might have magic but I cannot read your thoughts.”

  “Then let me plainly state the truth. I love you, Mariam.”

  She blinked rapidly. “It is obligation you feel, not love.”

  He laughed and pulled her to him. “I know what I feel for you, and it goes beyond duty, beyond reason.” Just touching her grounded him in a way that nothing ever had before. He looked into her green eyes and felt love wash through him. Love like he’d never known before. “You are my heart, Mariam.”

  “Why tell me this now?”

  “I thought you needed to hear it.”

  “You are no less important to me,” she whispered.

  He stepped through the opening, taking her with him. “Now, let us find the ashes or the cauldron or whatever it is that will reveal what we need to know about your past. Declarations of love are all well and good, but I’ll be the first to admit I am not very good with words.” He slipped his arm about her waist as they took their first steps inside the ancient place. “I am much better with action. Once this is over, I intend to show you just how earnest I am about my feelings for you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Golden light from Cameron’s torch flickered through the darkness of the cairn. Mariam’s heart sped up. Excitement wedded with fear as she looked around. The flat, rectangular stones that made up the walls of the cairn were high, supported with thick columns and lintels of basalt rock, keeping the stones overhead from collapsing in upon them.

  The fecund scent of ancient dirt and undisturbed air filled Mariam’s senses as she, Cameron, and Nessie moved deeper into the chamber. The twisting, dancing light illuminated a space that appeared much larger within than from outside. At the back of the chamber beside Nessie was an overly large black cauldron. Arranged in a circle around its base were eight orangish-brown urns. “The ashes.” The words echoed off the walls, reverberating back to her.

  “Does any of this bring forth any memories?” Nessie asked.

  Everything in Mariam went still as she took in the scene and let it sink into her soul. “It’s not so much a memory as it is a feeling.” She felt the spirits clinging to this place; she felt their energies. Mariam turned to look about the cairn, almost expecting to see those who had gone before her emerge from their ancient sleep.

  “On this isle in the past, magic was treated not with fear but with reverence,” Mariam said, remembering something her mother had once told her. It had made no sense then. It did now. “My sisters who came before me were much sought after for potions and healings, to attend both births and the end of life. They were seen as guides from this life to the next.”

  “That’s right,” Nessie said, as she dropped her gaze, hiding her expression from Mariam. “You are here to return magic to the world.”

  “How am I to do such a thing? I have no skill but harnessing the wind. I have no training.”

  “I will help you.”

  “How can you do that? Did my mother tell you how?”

  Nessie pushed her veil back, exposing her face. The ugly, red scar that stretched from Nessie’s hairline to her jaw was gone, and instead of a smashed nose and a drooping eye, a face fully formed and beautiful stared back at Mariam. The red hair that had hours ago been faded was now a pure white, and the back that had previously
hunched now stood tall and straight.

  Mariam gasped. “Who are you?”

  “You know who I am. You have always known.” The woman before her laughed, the ghostly trill sounding more familiar than foreign to Mariam’s ears. And yet she refused to believe what she saw.

  Cameron’s hand drifted to his sword. “Explain yourself.”

  “I have returned to my home, my haven, and the source of my own magic.”

  “Impossible.” Mariam felt the ancient stirrings that emanated from the white-haired woman and trembled. “You are dead.”

  “I was close to death after your father threw me over the cliff’s edge and on to the rocks below. But my magic has always been linked with the sea—the water—and the waves rose up and carried me away. They brought me back here, to the isle, and healed me over the course of many years.”

  Mariam shook her head. “Nay, it cannot be. My mother never would have left me alone with that monster.” Nay, this had to be a trick, or a trap—anything else was impossible.

  “Do you remember when I gave you that necklace?”

  Mariam wrapped her fingers around the shell at her neck. “The night before you . . . left.”

  Nessie nodded, her expression serious. “I knew he would try to kill me and I wanted to leave you with some protection. The shell, and the magic it contains, protected you. It did not stop his abuse, but he could never go so far as to kill you, at least not until it broke and the magic disappeared.”

  “Why didn’t you reveal yourself to me when you first came to Ravenscraig? I needed a mother,” Mariam said, reeling from shock and wonder and anger. “I spent fourteen years alone with that man. Tormented. Afraid. I mourned you when you left. I cried and cried until he beat the last tears out of me.”

  Her mother winced and dropped her gaze to her feet. “It took years for me to heal. And then once I did, I was frightened to reveal myself. My magic healed me, but I could not use it against that man or everything in me would have shifted from white magic to black.”