Highland Stone

by Sloan McBride

  "I will stay with her. I owe her me life."

  He nodded and headed downstairs to the great hall. The chief hovered before the hearth, sipping wine.

  "How fare ye?" Alaxandar said.

  "I be well. Many perished." His father sighed. "We needs be saving our fights for the English."

  "Aye."

  "And Kara?"

  "I dunna know." He looked into the flames. It felt as though the fire burned away pieces of his heart.

  "I be sorry for that. Eleyne says Kara saved her life."

  "Aye, she did that."

  They stood silent for a bit.

  "Me thinks we need to talk about MacKay," Alaxandar said.

  "Have ye seen the young chief?"

  "He be held in the tower, worried for his clan."

  His father nodded.

  "I believe Eleyne has feelings for young MacKay."

  "What?"

  The incredulous look on his father's face made Alaxandar grin. "Aye, and he has feelings for her."

  "I will cut his throat. Did he touch her?" Drummond roared.

  "Nay. 'Tis something I thought ye would want to know afore ye consider how to deal with Carrick."

  "I be needing to think on it."

  "Aye." Alaxandar agreed. He knew his father would make a fair decision on the matter.

  Alaxandar splashed water on his face and arms to get rid of the dirt and blood, then ate. Upon returning to the hall, he accompanied his father to the tower.

  Carrick didn't look like he'd gotten much sleep but he proudly stood before the MacLeod chief.

  "Be truth that your clan wants peace, MacKay?" Drummond asked.

  "Aye."

  "And is it what ye want?"

  "Me clan has been weakened these last years with all the fighting. Young men going off, never to return."

  "Ye dinna answer the question." Drummond frowned.

  "I want peace, MacLeod," Carrick said without flinching.

  "I have killed Conar. Ye be chief now."

  "Aye."

  "I have a proposition for ye."

  Alaxandar looked at his father wondering what was coming.

  "What be the offer, MacLeod?"

  "A binding o' the clans."

  Alaxandar coughed, actually choking on his father's words.

  Carrick grinned at Alaxandar then turned to Drummond. "What kind o' bond?"

  "I will be giving ye me daughter, Eleyne."

  "What?" Alaxandar and Carrick said in unison.

  Drummond shook his head. "There willna be fighting between the clans and ye will have help rebuilding."

  Carrick turned away from them, clasping his hands behind his back in a pose Alaxandar had often seen his father hold.

  "What be your answer, man?" Drummond said.

  Carrick sighed. "I will accept your offer MacLeod, but will she?"

  "Bah," Drummond blustered. "She has no choice here. This be how 'tis done."

  Alaxandar shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe his father would do this, and yet, it made sense. The two clans would be bound and the MacKays could rebuild. Carrick MacKay seemed to have a good head on his shoulders and a spine not to cower before an enemy. Mayhap he could handle Eleyne.

  Alaxandar turned to the clansmen outside the door. "Send a rider to Dunvegan with the news."

  "Mayhap I could have a change o' clothes and bathe afore I see me future bride," Carrick said with a smile.

  "Me thinks ye should," Alaxandar replied. "Eleyne willna appreciate being told she will wed the enemy." He winked at Carrick.

  "No doubt," Drummond murmured.

  Alaxandar and Carrick looked at him.

  "Come," Drummond said, as he strode out the door. "Get cleaned up while I find the young lass. Let us get this over with. Then drink… much."

  Alaxandar slapped Carrick on the back. "Me thinks ye will be needing all your battle skills for this union, lad."

  "Aye," Carrick replied.

  * * * *

  Having taken care of his duties, Alaxandar returned to spend time with Kara. He worried that she hadn't awakened. Speaking in whispers, he told her of the battle and the killing of Conar MacKay. He spoke of his father's injuries but that he awoke hale, and hearty this morn. Smiling he told her of the union between Carrick and Eleyne and how Eleyne argued with his father for nigh on an hour. Her screaming was heard all through the castle.

  "Young MacKay seems a good match for Eleyne," he chuckled. "She be staying here to spend more time with him." He brushed his fingers down her cheek as he spoke.

  The women came in to change Kara's dressings. Alaxandar went down to get ale for his parched throat. He found his father in talks with Carrick MacKay and some of the high-ranking men of both clans. The chief had good coloring and didn't seem the least bit tired. Not that Alaxandar had any doubt of his father's abilities and strength. He'd seen him in battle too many times.

  "How be the gel?" his father asked when he saw Alaxandar.

  "Too soon to tell."

  "I owe her a great debt for saving Eleyne."

  Alaxandar nodded. "How goes the talks?"

  "He be a bright lad." His father glanced at Carrick, who stood talking to Cuilén. "This union will be good for them both."

  "Aye. How be ye faring with the wounds?" Alaxandar frowned when his father winced.

  "It willna make your màthair happy," he chuckled. "But I be surviving."

  Smiling Alaxandar said, "Good to hear."

  "I will get food and go back to Kara unless ye have need o' me here," Alaxandar said.

  "Nay, ye take care o' the lass."

  * * * *

  In the morning, Alaxandar touched Kara's forehead and smiled, for the fever had broken. Two young MacKay women entered the room with fresh bedding. He waited outside for them to finish when Eleyne breezed through the hallway.

  "How 'tis Kara on this beautiful morning?"

  "The fever broke. How go talks between ye and MacKay?"

  She smiled none too sweetly. "We be civil… for enemies."

  "Carrick will be your chief soon, Eleyne. Remember that."

  "I know me duties, Alaxandar. Dunna fear, I willna disgrace the clan."

  "Poor bastard," he murmured, knowing his sister's ability to get into trouble. "I need to speak with Father. Kin ye sit with Kara?"

  She nodded and he left. Downstairs, men carried bodies and debris from the castle to be buried or burned outside the gates. Carrick walked behind several MacKay warriors carrying Conar MacKay's body. He acknowledged the warriors then turned to Carrick.

  "Conar shall be buried in the moors on MacKay land where he kin watch the peaceful life o' the clan he destroyed."

  "'Tis a good resting place."

  Alaxandar ventured to the stables where he found Cuilén scolding the stable hands on the care of the animals. Continuing on, he passed Iain organizing several parties to visit the outer MacKay villages to check on stores and what supplies were needed. Alaxandar noticed several maids eyeing his youngest brother, but Iain paid them no mind. Again, Alaxandar reminded himself to speak to Iain about his relationship with the Sutherland girl.

  After burying Conar MacKay and other clansmen, Carrick appeared in Kara's room. Eleyne sat by the hearth humming.

  "Our bairns will like to hear your voice."

  Eleyne stood as he approached her.

  "I be liking your voice." He wrapped a tendril of her hair around his finger.

  She smiled. "Dunna think I come to ye all ready and willing, MacKay. I be a MacLeod and I willna forget that."

  "'Twould be no fun if ye did."

  Kara stirred at the voices, cracking her eyes to see Carrick and Eleyne standing toe-to-toe. That certainly hasn't changed. Her head hurt so she closed her eyes and contented herself with listening to the voices.

  "Tell me about yourself, Carrick. It be fitting to have an idea o' what I be getting into with this union."

  He chuckled. "Me máthair passed on long ago. I went to England
for schooling to help understand the ways o' things. I returned too late."

  "Too late?"

  "Aye. The chief planned to give me sister to the Ross chief, uniting the clans. It be advantageous for Conar MacKay, and Ross be a ruthless bastard just the same." His tone turned grim.

  "What happened?"

  "Afore she be sold to Ross, she ran away."

  Kara shifted to ease the ache in her injured side.

  "I returned two days later. Conar was furious. Not only did she run, but Rhianna took the clan stone with her."

  Kara's eyes flew open. Did he say something about a clan stone?

  "Conar became more ruthless. Rhianna had made him look the fool. Bad things happened and the clan suffered."

  Kara rubbed her temple. Why hadn't she connected this before now? MacKay was her grandmother's maiden name—Rhianna MacKay. R. Glynnis MacKay.

  "Carrick," Eleyne said and she hugged him.

  He disengaged himself from her arms. "I must return to the work. I will see ye this eve." He touched her chin, turned and strode from the room.

  Eleyne stared at the empty doorway.

  "Not much has changed." Kara managed a small smile.

  "More than ye know."

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Eleyne touched Kara's cheeks and forehead.

  "How long have I been out?"

  "Two days. How do ye feel?"

  "Like I got hit by a truck." She moved to sit up a little.

  A strange expression crossed Eleyne's face. Kara realized she'd let something slip again. "Where is everyone? Did we stop the battle? Who won?"

  Eleyne laughed. "Aye, the fighting ceased after me father killed Conar MacKay. The dead be getting buried, the keep be getting cleaned and there be a union between the clans."

  "A union?"

  "Aye. Carrick MacKay will take me as wife. This will unite the clans and bring peace."

  Kara chuckled then coughed. "You and Carrick? That should make for some exciting evenings."

  Eleyne shuddered. "I kin think o' worse things."

  Kara's stomach growled and she rubbed her hand across her midsection. "I'm kind of hungry."

  "I shall let the others know ye be awake and get ye food stuffs."

  Kara had a few moments of solitude after Eleyne left. If Carrick is Rhianna's brother, that makes him my great uncle, I think. "Eleyne will be my aunt." She groaned. "This is too weird."

  "The stone," she cried. She lifted the covers peering underneath. Her dress and everything were gone. She'd carried the stone with her everywhere for fear of losing it. Panic set in. Great! I finally find my ancestor and now I've lost the stone.

  Moments later, Alaxandar walked through the door carrying food and drink. The grin on his face spread warmth through her body. "Hi."

  "I be happy to see ye awake." He set the trencher of food on the bedside and kneeled down beside her. "Ye look beautiful."

  She ran her hand across her hair. "Yeah, right."

  He clasped her hand and kissed the back of her fingers. "Ye be beautiful."

  She cupped the side of his face and her stomach growled again.

  Alaxandar picked up a piece of meat and brought it to her mouth. She accepted it and ran her tongue across his finger. The color in his eyes deepened.

  "Ye keep that up and I shall be lying with ye soon."

  "I'm injured, remember?" She smiled.

  "Aye," he leaned close and nuzzled her neck. "I be gentle."

  His warm breath on her skin made it tingle. The words full of promise zapped her all the way to her core. "I remember seeing this face twisted with worry," she said, while stroking his stubbled jaw. "I kept fading in and out of consciousness, I guess."

  She finished eating a small portion of the food, growing tired easily. Alaxandar wrapped the covers around her, letting his hand run down the length of her hair and her naked arm. He kissed her forehead, her eyes, and the corners of her mouth before rising.

  "I needs be checking on the cleanup. Rest now so ye kin be well."

  "Okay."

  Alaxandar exited. Some women came in to look at the bandages. She hadn't started bleeding again and the pain was minimal. "Can you tell me what happened to my clothes?"

  "They be washed and mended," one woman responded.

  Washed and mended means someone had their fingers all over her clothes. Would they have found the stone? Could it have dropped out at some point during the fight with the MacKay man? Too many questions and her head hurt.

  Noises of the daily activities had ceased. A great calm fell over the castle. Kara yawned and snuggled deeper into the blanket. Alaxandar had not returned. He must have had to attend to things personally.

  Kara felt the bed dip and a large form climb in with her. "'Tis me, lass," Alaxandar's soft, accented voice assured her.

  "Good thing," she murmured, "or I'd have to throw you out of the bed."

  His chuckled vibrated through her. She draped her arm across his chest, being careful to keep the wounded side from touching anything. He hugged her close and they slept.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Alaxandar had already gone when Kara woke. More food was delivered and her bandages were changed. Losing the stone put a definite crimp in her mood. There were only a few places it could be. She'd worry about the tower room later because she didn't have the strength yet to manage the stairs.

  Moving the covers aside, Kara swung her feet over the edge and managed to sit up with little difficulty. The stitches pulled and the bandage tightened. On shaky feet, she walked to the window to breathe in fresh cool air. I've got to find a way to get downstairs and search for that stone.

  "Why be ye out o' bed?"

  Alaxandar's voice boomed across the open space. She glanced at his frowning face while holding on to the back of the nearest chair.

  "I needed some air and I should move around a little. My back is stiff."

  He gently picked her up and carried her to the bed. "Ye need to stay in bed for a few days."

  She slapped his arm. "I'm fully aware of how I'm feeling, thank you very much. I will get up and move around if I feel like it. And I felt like it."

  "Ye'll do as ye be told, woman."

  She laughed. "Oh, I know you didn't just give me an order."

  "I did and I expect ye to follow it."

  Kara settled on the pillows. In your dreams, buster.

  Alaxandar sighed. "Dunna get up again. I will have food brought to ye here."

  "I'm not helpless."

  "Nay, ye be reckless. I willna have ye injured again."

  "Gee, thanks. I don't want to be injured again."

  "Then stay in the bloody bed!" he roared.

  With narrowed eyes, she stared at his face, ready to give a smart comeback. She wanted to tell this alpha male to take a hike, but deep inside she knew he only wanted to protect her and she couldn't be angry with that. Especially, not after everything that had happened and the fact that she'd fallen in love with him. She rested her head against the pillow.

  He stalked to the doorway and paused. "I will be back to see ye this eve."

  "That would be nice," she mumbled. "But wash up first, cause you smell like death."

  He grinned with a twinkle in his eye. "As ye wish."

  Death. She hadn't really given it any thought until now, her brain so full of other things. Tears welled in her eyes. "I killed that man. I stabbed him in the neck and watched his blood cover the floor." Her fist went to her mouth and the tears ran down her cheeks.

  Alaxandar came around the bed. "Dunna fuss, lass. Ye did right in laying the bastard out. He would have killed ye."

  She hiccupped with sobs. "It's easy for you, a warrior. I've never killed anyone before. Hell, I've never thought about killing anyone before."

  "Killin' 'tis not easy, Kara. 'Tis needed."

  What kind of thinking was that? Killing is needed? From under wet lashes, she looked at his handsome face and her heart hitched. She loved his crooked smile and cocky gri
n. Even his arrogant MacLeod attitude tickled her fancy. How could she leave him?

  He kissed her forehead. "Rest."

  Another order, but one she would gladly follow. She closed tired eyes. Memories—or were they dreams—whirled around her subconscious. What a mess she had made of things. How could she do what she must and protect her heart from being shattered?

  Kara slept most of the day. When she woke, she asked a young woman to bring her some warm water and soap so she could freshen up. She decided to wash her hair and stooped over a bucket to get the tangled mass wet and massage soap into it. Her side throbbed as she attempted to rinse all the suds out. Breathing became labored.

  "Ye try me patience, wench."

  She stilled at the sound of Alaxandar's voice. "Do I?" She raised her head slightly and with one hand moved the hair so she could see him.

  He stood in the doorway with feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed. "Aye."

  Her hair dropped back over her eyes and she continued rinsing. "Do all the women here do what the men tell them to do?"

  He smiled at her mumbled words then walked to where she sat leaning over a bucket. "Aye they do or else they get walloped." Against small protest, he grabbed the cup from her hands and rinsed the suds from her hair. Bubbles floated down the length of it, dripping on the floor.

  She chuckled. "Don't expect that from me, Alaxandar. No man rules me."

  He rather liked it that way. Snatching the towel from the bed, he dropped it over her head and rubbed the tendrils with the cloth. She pressed her hand to her side.

  "Ye'll rip your flesh if ye dunna stop moving so much."

  "My hair felt grimy and smelled bad. I had to wash it."

  While shaking his head at her foolishness, he went over to stoke the fire. "Bring yourself by the fire to dry."

  She stood slowly.

  Worried, he crossed the short distance, scooped her into his arms, and set her in the chair in front of the hearth. He buffed her hair until it shined. Picking up a clump, he brought it to his nose and inhaled. It smelled good and the color was unique. It wasn't long enough for his liking. He set the towel aside and snuggled her in his lap. "Are ye warm enough?"

  "Mmm. I'm surrounded by warmth."

  He rested his chin atop her head. He loved holding Kara.

  "Alaxandar?"

  "Aye?"