Kanyth (Immortal Highlander, Clan Skaraven Book 4): A Scottish Time Travel Romance

by Hazel Hunter

  She’d begged to play his wench, but she’d shown him what surely no other woman would have offered. She’d made bold with his body, and yet had surrendered hers so sweetly that he’d taken her over and again. He closed his eyes and leaned against a wall as he thought of how she had touched him with her hands and lips. He recalled the wanton manner in which her long legs had wrapped around him, her delicate curves pushing against his. Her soft tongue proved fearless and curious and utterly maddening. The moment after he filled her quim with his cream he could not release her and leave her rest. He kept his cock in her to relish the feel of her overflowing onto him, and to grow hard again for her. Even now his shaft twitched, ready to return and find her snug sheath and stroke her until she moaned and writhed and shattered with delight.

  I cannae fack the poor lass for days and days, he told himself sternly. Besides, if he went back to the chamber, he might never leave it again.

  He knew this was not supposed to be his lot, not as the Skaraven forge. He'd put his hands all over her, never once fearing he’d hurt her. She was his chosen mate, so perhaps that had somehow removed his dread or the threat. He could not think of what they were meant to become when he was pumping inside her, and swallowing her cries and watching her face flush with ecstasy. He forgot his burdens, his duty, his clan, even that they but two days past had fought like sworn enemies.

  She had conquered him, so quickly, so effortlessly.

  Kanyth didn’t mind losing this one battle, not when he imagined having more every night with her in his bed. Still, he’d promised her the choice, and he would keep his word. After what she’d given him in that chamber, in her arms, he could do no less. But if she wished to end it, and return to her time, how could he bear to let her go? He couldn’t follow her. She had no cause to remain.

  ’Twas the same for her, he thought, sure at least of that much. He’d watched for hours the desire and astonishment and pure joy as they’d bloomed in her eyes. She’d never known the like of him. Mayhap ’twill be reason enough.

  The howl of the winds from outside the castle grew to a roar, bellowing until his ponderings faded. He walked up to the roof level to go out and see the cause, and found he had to force open the door to the battlements.

  Cutting wind roared in Kanyth’s face as he waded through knee-deep snow to the notched wall providing cover for the lookouts and sentries. Someone had possessed enough sense to bring the clansmen on duty inside. He cupped a hand over his eyes and peered out into the storm, trying to see over the curtain wall. Down below, the snow had been driven into great mounding drifts like small hills at the base of the walls. But beyond them the featureless white whirl of white blocked out everything. He could not even tell if the sun had yet risen.

  Back inside he shoved the door closed and dropped the bolt bar before shaking off and dragging his ice-laden hair back from his face. He’d yet to weather a winter in this time, but such storms during his mortal life could last for days. The plummeting temperatures and copious snowfall would turn everything exposed to rock-hard ice, including any body of water.

  Brennus and the clan wouldn’t drown in the frozen loch, but their mounts would.

  He left the upper level to make his way down to the great hall. Snow-covered clansmen occupied places by every hearth as they thawed, and the sharp chill in the air explained why the tired-looking servants had wrapped up in tartans and shawls.

  The laird’s steward came to greet him, and related the dire conditions cutting off the castle on all sides. “If this continues through the day, I fear your clan willnae find passage to us,” the mortal said. “I’d send sentries to watch for them, but in such wind and freeze they’d no’ last an hour.”

  “Our chieftain willnae risk the clan’s horses. Keep the men close, but watchful for signs of the famhairean. ”

  Kanyth knew the storm would not prevent the giants from attacking, for they could tunnel through soil even if it were frozen. He trusted that if there was another way for the Skaraven to come to the midlands, Brennus would find and use it. Until then he had to take charge.

  “We must fortify the stronghold’s defenses now. Has the laird risen?”

  The steward nodded. “He’s breaking his fast with his wife and bairns in the solar.” He grimaced. “Our lady willnae be moved to safer quarters. Aye, when the enemy arrives, she may greet them at the door.”

  The steward’s joke brought on a new notion, and Kanyth thought quickly. “Bring as much wood into the keepe as you can, and keep the hearths blazing. I’ll want three cords in the castle’s forge, and all the unworked iron you’ve on hand.”

  The steward frowned. “As you wish, but we’ve swords enough for two clans.”

  “I’ll no’ be making blades.”

  Kanyth headed to the back passage that led to the castle’s forge. The McAra’s blacksmith, a huge and genial fellow named Alec, met Kanyth with a hearty arm clasp.

  “I wondered when you’d find reason to shadow my shoulder,” the smith told him, and tossed more logs into his furnace hearth. “I’ve a cunning mandrel to show you, Skaraven. Flatted half the round for shaping latch rings.” His grin faded as men began carrying in pails of wood and smelted iron. “Och, I see how ’tis. Come to boot out my arse, more like.”

  “No, lad, but I’m putting you to work.” Kanyth nodded at the blaze heating the forge stones. “Build the fire high, and line your finishing table with flat stone. I’ll return after I speak to the laird, and we’ll get to it.”

  The laird met him on his way from the solar, and from his expression knew precisely how much trouble they faced.

  “I ken your clan cannae reach us until the storm passes,” Maddock said. “I’ve armed every man in the stronghold, and moved the staff and villagers into the garrison. The druid rode out last night for the Sky Thatch settlement. I’d hoped he’d aid us in holding off the bastarts with his magic, but you ken tree-knowers. By now I reckon he’s a great lump of ice somewhere, and we’ll find him after the thaw.”

  Kanyth nodded. “And your family?”

  “My lady keeps to the solar. If she’s to die, she informs me, ’twill be in her garden room with our bairns.” He gave Kanyth a sour look. “I’d drag her and the lot of them down to the dungeon vaults, but she’s feeling much improved. She’ll fight back, and I’ll lose to her and my clan shall revolt and name her laird. Now, tell me you’ve some other canny Skaraven ploy to save my castle.”

  “I ken how we may turn back the famhairean,” Kanyth said, and described the fortifications he intended to forge. “We’ll hoist them above, out of sight until they attempt to invade the keepe. We’ll need guards at each, armed with blades to cut the ropes, and torches.”

  Maddock shuddered and nodded. “’Tis devious, Skaraven. Never again shall I cross you.” He inclined his head toward one of the rooms. “Mistress Perrin came asking after you, and stayed to keep Elspeth company. You should ease her mind before you begin the work.”

  Kanyth couldn’t resist that suggestion, and walked over to look in the garden room.

  Lady Elspeth and her children sat wide-eyed watching a whirling, bending flurry of silk. The tempest stilled, becoming Perrin poised on her toes, only to dip with curled arm and flip heels over head to land on one foot. She arched again, skipping into a turn with her arms held out in an embrace of the air.

  As she danced Kanyth discovered he couldn’t blink. He’d imagined his vision of her to be partly a fancy of his own creation, when in truth she moved exactly like that unearthly creature of the air. He’d witnessed many things of beauty in his time, but nothing so exquisite as she.

  Yet as magically as she danced, he loved more than her effortless skill. Her beauty dazzled him, but her spirit humbled him. He loved the way her mouth curved as she looked at the children. She danced for them, to warm their hearts and ease their fears. She’d done the same for him last night with all her passion. She gave of herself, with joy and true generosity of spirit.

  I love her
.

  Perrin ended her dance by elegantly falling to the floor, her legs folding under her skirts and her body doing the same, her eyes closed and her hands floating to rest like elegant birds beside her. Then she opened one eye to peer at the silent children.

  “Now you must guess what animal I am,” she told them without moving. “I’m very large, and I can be white or black, and I have a temper. I’m also the most elegant of birds, whether I’m flying or gliding across the water.”

  “A puffin,” one of the younger girls said, giggling. “But you dinnae have the funny beak.”

  “She’s a kestrel,” her older brother put in, and then frowned. “Only they’re brown, no’ black or white.”

  “A bird beloved by the Gods,” Kanyth said, and felt his heart ache when Perrin lifted her head and met his gaze with a smile. “Eala, the swan.”

  “Come, my darling ones,” Lady Elspeth said, gesturing for the children to follow her out. “We must fetch water for the greenery.” As she passed Kanyth she gave him a decidedly stern look. “We shall return shortly.”

  He nodded his understanding, and once the lady and her bairns went into the family’s rooms he stepped inside. “I hope someday you shall dance for me. ’Twas splendid to watch.”

  “I’m terribly out of practice, but thanks.” Perrin rose to her feet and sketched a curiously feminine bow before she walked over to him. “You should have woken me up before you left.”

  “Then I wouldnae have left.” He caressed her cheek with his fingertips. “The clan isnae coming, no’ in this storm. I’ll be working with the clan’s blacksmith to make some fortifications, that we may hold off the famhairean for time. My brother and the Skaraven shall come the moment they’re able, but lass–”

  “I know.” She touched his mouth to stop him. “I’m going to stay and help with the kids, and keep watch for any sign of evil Oriana.” Her eyes grew dreamy as she rubbed her thumb across his lower lip. “I’ve been thinking. After this is over—assuming we survive—I don’t want to pretend last night never happened. I want to be with you, Ka. I mean, if you’re still permitted to have a wench of your own, and you’d like that.”

  “Oh, aye.” Kanyth kissed her thumb, her palm and then her lips. “’Tis naught I’d love more.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  THE BAIRNS ARE all tucked in bed,” Perrin told Elspeth as she joined her in the family’s dining room. She noted the laird’s wife had not only finished all the bread and pottage the men had brought up for their evening meal, but now nibbled on an oatcake. “It’s lovely to see you finally eat something.”

  “I cannae stop myself,” Elspeth admitted, and finished the cake. “’Tis as if I dinnae carry a child at all. Even with all this dire news, my belly hasnae churned once this day.” She glanced at Perrin as if uncertain of what to say next.

  She sat down beside her. “You can tell me if you ate all the oatcakes in the castle.”

  “No’ yet. I would tell you this, as you’ll no’ think me mad. Or you’ll be kind and no’ say so.” She sighed. “Before you exposed her, Ana brought all my trays to me at night. My sickness began the same week she came to work for us.” She paused to take a sip from her mug of calming brew. “’Tis addled my thinking. If she meant to poison me, by now I’d be no more.”

  The thought of the evil druidess dosing the laird’s wife with something to make her sick every day revolted Perrin, but it also added another clue to the mystery of why Oriana had posed as a maid.

  “If you’d kept being sick, what would the laird have done about it?”

  Elspeth thought for a moment. “Some days before you and Cousin Emeline came, Maddock spoke of taking me through a sacred grove portal to heal my sickness. He thought if I went to Dun Mor with Emeline, and returned, ’twould end the boaking. I told him no’ to be foolish, that ’twas natural for a female with child.”

  Perrin tapped her cheek. “Wonder where he got that idea.”

  “Och, one of the maid–” Elspeth stopped and gave her a horrified look. “He said one of the maids suggested it to him. That the notion came to her after she heard our cousin speak of how the portal healed her.”

  “Emeline would never talk about that, not in front of a maid. That’s very private clan business.” So, the real reason Oriana had come to work at the castle involved creating a reason to send Lady Elspeth through a portal to Dun Mor. “I don’t know why she would try to get you into a portal, though. Could she have put a spell on it, and sent you somewhere else? That seems to be happening a lot lately.”

  “I cannae tell you. I wish Bhaltair Flen hadnae left us,” the lady said, and rubbed her temple. “He’d ken better than anyone what manner of dark purpose the druidess had.”

  Perrin nodded, but she knew exactly why Bhaltair had left. He’d taken her vision seriously, at least she hoped he had.

  “Elspeth, I’d like to tell you about something. You might think I’m crazy, but you should know. Then again, I don’t want to burden or upset you either, which is why I haven’t said anything.”

  The laird’s wife regarded her steadily. “My dear lass, I’ve managed daily purgings, burned villages, terrified poor folk, a near-drowning, a cowardly, hateful murder, my husband turned drunkard from guilt, a near-murder of the chieftain’s brother, another near-attack on a member of the druid conclave, and now the famhairean make ready to kill us all. You cannae upend me.” She rested her hands on the top curve of her belly. “Besides that, I’m much too fat.”

  A short time later Perrin left the solar, satisfied that she had done all she could to prevent a disaster that might never happen now. Since the laird had sequestered the household staff to the garrison she didn’t expect to find a tub of hot water waiting for her in her chambers. Elspeth must have arranged the bath, as well as the clean, warm robe and nightdress that had been left on her bed. Once she’d scrubbed herself pink and dried off Perrin put on a few things she’d brought with her, and then shrugged into the robe and grabbed her last clean gown.

  She had everything she needed, except Kanyth.

  From what Elspeth had told her he’d worked all day in the forge, and was still there finishing up the last of the fortifications they needed for the attack. The laird’s wife had also casually pointed out where to locate the blacksmith’s workroom, in the event that Perrin ever wished to see it.

  Somehow Lady McAra knew what was going on with her and Kanyth. Or maybe she’d realized that this might be the last night they could spend together. If they survived, Perrin was going to be her BF for life.

  Feeling excitement bubbling inside her, Perrin went downstairs and followed Elspeth’s directions until she entered a short, wide passage with three large rooms. Heat rolled out of the center chamber in palpable waves, so she peeked in that one first.

  Like the forge at Dun Mor, the big room had been designed for hard, hot work. The walls and floors had been cased with thick stone, and a half-dozen odd-shaped tables and benches sat arranged neatly around a massive standing anvil. Everything smelled of fire and iron and wood, with a hint of Kanyth’s spicy scent binding it into an arousing aroma. Tubs of dark water sat beside the benches and under the holes cut in the tables, probably to extinguish any stray embers or molten metal fragments. Long wooden racks held rows of hammers, tongs, picks and other large, heavy tools.

  Perrin felt oddly at home there. While absolutely a masculine domain she could appreciate the clean, simple logic of the space. As she studied the tools she noticed they had been grouped by type and then size, and had the rugged look of things well-used without being worn down. Things might be all work and no play in the forge, but she sensed a kind of beauty to it, too. Here men like Ka took lumps of metal and turned them into practical art.

  Since no one but her occupied the room she turned to check out the other two, and walked straight into a big, hard, sweaty bare chest.

  “Perrin.” Just as he had every time since they’d been together Kanyth purred her name. “I didnae exp
ect a visit.”

  “That’s why it’s a surprise.” She glanced around him, hoping no more sweaty chests would appear. “Are you working by yourself?”

  “Aye, Alec and I placed most of the fortifications. I sent him to find his bed after he nodded off hammering.” He drew her into the center room. “Come and sit. I’ve only to anneal one last bracket, and I’ll be finished.”

  He guided her over to a stool by the hearth, where she sat and watched as he opened two large, round metal doors and reached into a blazing fire. She almost shrieked, only to remember his power, and pressed her hand over her mouth.

  He hauled out what looked like part of a heavy cage made of glowing gold, and carried it over to the largest table, the top of which had been covered in flat, blackened stones. He turned, bent and plunged his hands into one of the buckets, sending up a waft of steam. Wisps of smoke rose from the cage lattice as the color of its bars darkened to amber-red.

  “Has there been any sign of the giants?” she asked.

  “No, but they cannae attack in darkness.” Kanyth splashed his face and chest with more water, then dried off with large, rough-looking woven cloth. “If they’re to come for us, and I reckon they shall, ’twill be just after sunrising.”

  Perrin saw him move in front of the open furnace doors, and fire flared up behind him, illuminating his massive upper torso. She glanced down at the pile of furs sitting in front of the furnace. It was all happening again, just as it had in her vision…only it was different.

  We didn’t mate. We became lovers. Different choice, different future.

  The one thing she was sure of was what she’d come here to do, so she’d go with that.

  “Could you please bolt the door so no one wanders in here?”

  Kanyth frowned but did as she’d asked. “We should go up to our chamber.”

  “It’s too far away.” She shrugged out of the robe, hanging it out of the way on a wall hook. “I like it here.”