What the hell was wrong with him?
He compressed his lips into a thin line as annoyance swelled in his chest. Somehow he had allowed Adrina to get underneath his skin, and he struggled with wanting to wring her neck one minute, and lusting after her in the next. He didn’t have time for this nonsense. Once again, he regretted the burden that Rory bestowed upon him. At the time, it seemed logical for Duncan to take up the assignment. The chief needed a man to uncover the true allegiance of Tevon MacGill. And everyone knew that Duncan would discover the facts using his methodical ways. But now that he thought about it, Griogair should have been the one to play the escort. And while his younger brother’s methods were different from his own, Griogair had skill enough to obtain the necessary intelligence.
“Why must we fight the English?” Adrina asked, cutting into his thoughts.
“Ye dinnae ken?” He blinked at her, surprised. The earlier irritation he felt abated slightly. Most people were taught to dread the enemy, and were clever enough to hide away from them when they were close. Perhaps Adrina’s life in Castle Dunnvie had sheltered her from hearing the recounts of horror and abuse. It was the women, children, and the elderly that suffered the most during the raids. Was it possible that Adrina was unaware of the menace that the English represented?
But she shook her head, and clarified her position. “What I mean tae say is, why cannae our countries live together in peace?”
“Ye have high ideals about peace,” he said slowly. “Ye speak about harmony between our two countries, but concord is impossible if the goal of one country is tae oppress the other.”
He watched as a red squirrel scampered up a hazel tree, its feet scraping along the rough bark.
“’Tis in our best interest tae fight, and keep our independence.” Duncan paused, uncertain whether he should continue. But then he hardened his heart. War was nigh, and she needed to be prepared for it. It was beyond his conscience to allow her to think that all would be well. If he injected fear into her, then perhaps she would no longer hold onto her ideals. He looked ahead to the skyline, the information from the past unfolding in his mind. “’Twas nae too long ago, I followed Rory into England in search for a Scottish healer.”
“’Twas Lady Venora ye were trying tae find,” she said.
“Aye,” he nodded. “’Twas she. As we were returning tae the highlands, we came across an English cavalry that camped several miles from the Scottish border. I went tae scout the enemy, and when I saw the many cookfires that lit the forest, I became sick tae my stomach. There were more than a dozen, and ‘twas obvious that they were waiting for more troops tae join them. I surmised that once they gathered their numbers, they would cross into our land.”
“Does the queen know about this?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“She does.” He shifted his focus back to her. “I’ve already informed her of the oncoming attack. ‘Tis the reason why we’re heading tae Bracken Ridge — tae join forces with Gertrude’s men, and tae lie in wait for our enemy. The English dinnae ken that we’re aware of their presence. Sae when we intercept them at the pass, the element of surprise will be on our side, and those bastards would be defeated once and for all.”
“Are King Harold’s men now making their way tae the Ridge?”
“Nay, I dinnae think sae, but they’ll be here soon. The Scottish terrain is unknown tae them, and they’ll need tae get the lay of the land first before they maneuver inland. ‘Tis likely why they’re sending scouts.”
“Then all clans must join together in this fight.”
“Aye, ‘twould be the only way tae squash the invaders.”
She became silent for a long while. “Ye suspect that my father willnae side with ye in this war,” she said. There was no question in her tone. “That’s the true reason ye are coming tae Dunnvie Castle, is it nae?”
He gave her a curious look. Indeed, they did need to confirm MacGill’s allegiance to the country. The worse thing was to discover traitors in their midst. Still, Adrina’s moments of astute observation startled him. There were a few times he caught her staring vacantly into the horizon, and he wondered whether she only possessed beauty but little intelligence. However there were other times where she demonstrated keen intelligence, and seemed to comprehend situations that were beyond the capacity of an average lass.
“I can assure ye that my father is true tae Scotland,” she continued, and didn’t appear to notice that he hadn’t answered her question. “However I despise war. ‘Tis my belief that many will die.”
“That’s the way of it,” he said, his tone a matter-of-fact. “We lost many guid men in the last battle with the English. My da and Rory were at odds about fighting in the war. On the one hand my da insisted that we joined the queen’s cause. But on the other hand, Rory refused tae lead the men into combat, believing that the queen was a poor ruler.” He frowned as he recalled the quarrel. “I sided with my sire, of course. For centuries, the English coveted our land. The way I saw it, ‘tis better tae have a familiar ruler, rather than one that’s foreign and a tyrant. Under nay circumstances can we hand over our land, and willingly enter into slavery. Tae me, being under Harold’s domination would be equivalent tae death.”
Adrina opened her mouth to respond to his impassioned speech. But her brows furrowed, and she fell silent once again.
He had a distinct feeling that she had more to say than she was willing to reveal. Venora had confided in him that she believed Adrina possessed mystical gifts. However he scoffed at the idea. He had seen too many people profess to have these so-called gifts, but they were impostors. If they had any role in society, it was to give people false hope, and that was all.
“Will we be stopping soon?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.
“Aye,” he said. “We’ll find a spot tae set up camp.”
The sun was starting to sink into the horizon, and from his estimation, they had a few more hours of daylight.
He led Adrina to the edge of the forest where they followed a stream. It was best to ride into the forest, and stay in its protective cover rather than remain out in the open. In this regard, they could avoid the detection of any enemy that might be in their vicinity. And if a large party drew near, he had the advantage of seeing them long before they became aware of his presence.
In single file, they rode through the wooded area. There really was no road to follow, but enough travelers had passed through this way that he could see a faded path that led through the dying vegetation.
Fortunately the forest, glens and moors were his element. Roaming over the varied terrain provided him with a serenity that he couldn’t find in the confines of civilization. His father had taught him and his brothers to track the land. But it was Duncan who discovered a keen interest in it. He became proud of his abilities, and honed his skills to the point where his observations were quick and automatic. He was so well attuned to his surroundings that he often hunted with bare feet. It was strange how he felt such oneness with the earth. There were clues everywhere, and the turf always had something to show him.
On horseback, however, he didn’t have the luxury of using all his senses. Still the damp, musky scent of leaf mold permeated his consciousness, and he noted the low, hollow kraah of a lone raven perched somewhere in the nearby oak tree.
Listening for a few minutes longer, he finally allowed the tension to release from his shoulders. There were no fresh human or horse prints that he could discern. In all respects, the forest seemed calm and undisturbed.
Duncan looked up and saw the bright yellow and orange leaves that hung from the tree branches. A few weeks more, and all the ornaments from the trees would drop to the ground, the vivid colors fading and becoming as brown and tattered as worn pieces of clothing.
At the moment, he was convinced that no danger threatened them, so he turned his awareness to his stomach. There were only a few more hours of daylight, and he needed something to eat. While making oatcakes was adequate for st
aving off his hunger, he yearned for the succulent taste of fire-roasted meat. But if he wanted to satisfy his craving, he needed to hunt something before the sun went down.
A soft rustling in the bushes drew his attention, and he brought his steed to a standstill.
“Stay with the horses,” he said to Adrina.
Then without waiting for her reply, he dismounted. With practiced ease, he grabbed hold of the reins, and quickly secured the beasts to a nearby tree. From the side of his mount, he detached his bow and arrow, and walked cautiously over to inspect the soft ground near the shrubs. Hare tracks.
***
The horses grazed on the clump of grass that they found at the base of the old oak tree. Meanwhile a light westerly wind blew at the tree canopy, the noise of rustling like the clinking of coins in a sporran. Under different circumstances, the sound might have soothed Adrina, but the noise made her more aware of her isolation.
And while she tried her best to stay still, she had an uncomfortable sensation that she was being watched. Perhaps it was an enemy or even a hostile forest spirit — she really didn’t know who or what was spying on her. All she could feel were eyes boring into her, although she couldn’t place the direction of the stare. And even as she tried to reason with herself, she was unsuccessful in shaking off the uneasy feeling that had settled over her. It seemed that her inner guidance had abandoned her as well, and she felt even more alone and scared. If someone was to come upon her, she had little to defend herself except for the small dagger that hung at her belt. But what good was that against a full-grown man wielding a sword? And if it wasn’t a man that she was up against but an evil forest imp, what protection did she have against its dark magic?
Suddenly a bird screeched overhead, and she jumped.
Her hands felt cold and she placed them on her cheeks. “I’m being silly,” she said out loud.
The palfrey beside her twitched its ears at hearing her voice.
Stretching her hand, she smoothed her palm over her mount’s neck. “Tell me that I’m imagining things, horse,” she said.
But the animal continued to munch on the soft grass.
“I’m asking a horse if I’m delusional,” she said, letting out a self-depreciating laugh. The idea that someone watched her was pure fancy. It had to be. Over the past few minutes, she had looked over her shoulders numerous times, and had found nothing amiss. If she revealed to Duncan about this odd feeling, she was certain that he would laugh at her, and maybe even call her a coward. “If ye are so frightened, how did ye ever make it tae Tancraig Castle?” he would ask, a likely smirk on his face. How indeed. She had traveled to Tancraig Castle for several days, and without an escort. Why would journeying home be any different? But even as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she already knew how different it really was.
Her mouth felt dry, and she felt a strong urge to be near Duncan. What was taking him so long? At the moment, she would trade the eerie feeling she was experiencing, and would gladly suffer through the Highlander’s ridicule and sarcasm. At least then, she would have something to distract her from her unreasonable fears.
Giving her horse a pat on the neck, she left it, and walked in the direction in which Duncan had disappeared. When she saw him a moment later, she hurried over to him.
CHAPTER 7
Duncan stood as still as a mountain cat, as if he expected the hare to run out of its hiding place at any moment. And then it did. With an ease that seemed to come from years of practice, he pointed the arrow shaft and let it fly. The arrow whizzed through the air, and cleanly pierced through the animal. He was about to retrieve the game when Adrina’s foot stepped on a twig, snapping it.
He pivoted. “Why arenae ye with the beasts?” he asked, frowning when he saw her.
“I didnae want tae be alone,” she said, hugging her arms to her stomach. “I feared that someone was —”
“Nay one would have harmed ye,” he said, cutting her off. “I wouldnae have left ye by yourself if there was such a threat.” Duncan retrieved the hare, and started back to where their horses waited.
“Ye might have told me this before ye left,” she said, following him.
He grunted, but didn’t say anything else. At first he strung the dead hare to the back of his steed, and then turned to lift her onto her mount.
Off in the distance, wild geese honked as they passed over the area. Moving a few paces more, she heard the surge of water from a nearby loch. And as they moved closer to the watercourse, she felt the occasional cool breeze breaking through the tree barriers, brushing across her skin.
By now the rolling heather slopes had disappeared hours ago, and Adrina only had view of the forest that encompassed them.
Under her, she caught the distinct crunching and swishing of vegetation being trampled beneath the horses’ hooves. And every heavy step they took released the smell of earth, leaves and bracken. On her right lay a small rocky outcrop that was overgrown with sphagnum. However a small cluster of flowers, the blooms as red as the speckles in her bloodstone, somehow managed to spring up from the bed of moss.
And even as the sun began to drop in the sky, the leaves on the trees caught the sunlight, shimmering on the branches like pretty coins.
Yet, despite all the beauty that encircled her, she was well aware that darkness and silence would conceal it all. And the only things that remained were questionable and sinister. A chill ran through her as the idea took hold in her mind. As she tried to rub away the gooseflesh from her arms, she felt even colder.
Suddenly she began to feel dizzy as well. Raising her hands, she cradled the sides of her head in an attempt to gain relief. And when she closed her eyes, a faint image appeared in her mind. She shook her head, trying in vain to prevent herself from hallucinating.
“Nay, I dinnae want tae see anything!”
But it was no use. She forced her eyes open, and with a sinking feeling, she discovered that the forest had disappeared, and she now stood in the courtyard of Dunnvie Castle. For several seconds, she was met with silence, but as she continued to observe the scene in front of her, she became aware of the low murmur of the people who surrounded her.
A slight movement caught in her peripheral vision, and when she turned her head, her heart skipped at seeing her father. He was so close that she could almost touch the sash of his great kilt. In all respects, she should have felt joyful at seeing her sire, but the expression on his face frightened her. She had never seen him like this before. He stared straight ahead, while the muscle at the side of his jaw pulsated.
Another small movement to the right of her father drew her attention. It was her mother, she realized. Her mother’s face was pinched and stained with tears. Her hair was in disarray, and she appeared to have aged several years.
Adrina clenched her fists. Usually she only had to endure the vision up to this point. But for some reason, her guidance wanted to show her more.
“Ye cannae do this!” Alarm increased the volume in her mother’s voice, as she was pushed to climb the large platform. She turned to her husband. “Stop them, Tevon!”
But even her father knew that he was powerless.
“Keep moving,” the executioner said gruffly, nudging them toward the hanging ropes.
“Nay,” Adrina whispered. “This isnae happening. This cannae be happening. This is only a dream…”
She propped her forehead on her palm. Her parents were living when she left Dunnvie, and they would be alive when she returned. They had to be! She covered her ears and shook her head, trying to block out the awful scenes. Yet her mother’s cries still echoed in her head. Why was she experiencing the impressions now? All previous times, this particular vision had come to her in her sleep. This time, however, it struck her while she was fully conscious. So what did this mean? Did something terrible happen to her parents while she was away?
The turmoil continued to swirl in her body, leaving her helpless and afraid. But then the sweeping chill abruptly left
her. As she lifted her head, she discovered that she was once again surrounded by the vibrant colors of the forest.
She took in a deep breath. The execution hadn’t taken place. What she saw was only a nightmare. There was no truth to any of it. Unless she saw physical evidence to indicate otherwise, her parents were alive and well.
“This is where we’ll make camp…” Duncan said, his voice interjecting into her thoughts.
“What did ye say?” She sat up on her saddle, grateful for the distraction.
“I said that we’ll spend the night here.” His brow furrowed with concern, and something else too. “Are ye all right, lass? Ye look ill.”
Adrina felt heat rise to her cheeks when she realized how she must have appeared to him. She knew that she shouldn’t care what he thought of her, but she didn’t want him to view her with fear and abhorrence. She already experienced plenty of that in Dunnvie.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “I just have a wee headache.”
Duncan studied her face, but she must have sounded convincing enough because he abandoned the subject. Circling around her horse, he came to help her dismount. Then gathering the reins, he led the horses to secure them to a nearby tree. He started to take a sack and the dead hare from the horse when he paused.
“Do ye ken how to start a cookfire?”
“Of course,” she said. “A woodcutter once taught me how tae do it.”
“Guid, then I willnae have tae explain what ye need tae do,” he said, handing her the bag. “Ye will find the flint inside the pack, and there should be enough dry material around here for ye tae start a fire. I’ll be by the river tae clean the hare.” With that, he took his catch and walked toward the loch.
She watched him leave, feeling at once relieved that he didn’t question her odd behavior, yet also feeling scared that her visions would return.
The Highland Curse (Scottish Strife Series Book 2) Page 6
