by Terry Spear
Stiff with cold, she dismounted, then pulled her horse into the byre built against the side of the stone shieling. The family had died during a winter snowstorm, and most others she knew talked about the place but would not draw near. She had never felt anything but comfort here. For now, she was miles from home after weaving her way back and forth across the moors and glens, trying to pick up a signal from her brothers.
She prayed to God they would still be alive by the time she reached them.
***
Angus ate a chunk of bannock with Niall and Gunnolf, huddled together for a brief moment in the gloaming mist before they headed out again, not even bothering with a fire. Once they'd reached the Chattan's lands, they'd searched everywhere for the wee lass. They'd been in one drenching rain shower after another, and had only a quick respite to grab a bite to eat before the next downpour, he was certain, the way their luck had been holding out.
Angus had the sinking feeling, Edana had come to harm. He should have known how difficult it would be to find her. Yet, he'd had it in mind she would have given up whatever her reason for leaving home and returned by now. But a farmer they had come across who worked for the chief said the lass was still missing.
"Why do you think the lass left the castle as she did?" Niall asked Angus.
Angus drank some of his mead. "James said the chief didna know. But I suspect her da did know and was afraid to say."
"Something to do with her being special?" Niall asked.
"Aye, I am certain of it. If you had a daughter who had run off on some fae errand, would you tell the men who sought to find her and bring her home that was the reason she had disappeared?" Angus asked.
"Nay. I would keep her motive for leaving a secret," Niall agreed.
"Aye. As would I."
"So why did he no' send his own men?" Niall asked.
Angus raised his brows at his cousin. "Her brothers would be one thing. Mayhap the Chattan's men are afraid of her."
"'Tis a good thing we are no'," Niall said with a smug smile. "I never knew what she actually did. Do you?"
"Nay, no' exactly. When we visited the one time while you were sick in bed, she was extremely distraught. From what her maid told us, lads and lassies alike had teased her about her abilities for years. But that day, Edana was frantic to get help for a lass she feared was drowning. Three lads and a lass taunted her, told her the girl pretended to be injured and drowning to see if the witch would know the truth or no'. Edana slapped the lass provoking her across the face and punched one of the boys in the stomach before she ran off to the river nearby. I have never seen such a wildcat in action before."
And Angus hadn't known what to think, but he had been worried about her.
"No one from the Chattan clan bothered to follow her. Her brothers had ridden off to race with some other lads before they knew of the trouble. We were concerned for Edana's safety. We were no' sure if what the others said was true or no'. James took charge of us, like he always did, and told us we were going after the lass. We searched for a good long while before we heard her sobbing. I expected to see her sitting by the river, her pride wounded, crying. But what we found was something altogether different. She struggled to pull a much older and bigger girl from the water, her body wedged between two boulders, reeds tangled in her hair, her brat and léine soaking wet and weighing the girl down."
Niall took a deep breath. "The lass was dead. I remember now. But we never knew how Edana discerned the girl was drowning. Was it like Lady Anice who sees something of the future?"
"Nay, no' like that. 'Tis something different, though I know no' what. Gunnolf ran back to the keep to tell the chief the news. Dougald and I carried the dead girl home. James and Malcolm, being that they were older, had to subdue Edana. She was terribly distraught that the others jested about her abilities and ultimately their sport had caused the lass to truly drown. Edana didna wish to return home."
"So that is why you didna wish to go on this mission. You already know how much of a challenge the lass will be," Niall said, wisely.
"If 'tis anything like the last time, aye. And you see why James sent me this time? He knew what we are in for."
Gunnolf was quietly contemplating their words, and Angus turned to him. "What think you, Gunnolf?"
"Chattan asked James to send one of his brothers. He undoubtedly knows you are the only one left at Craigly Castle. You dinna think the chief has something in mind other than just bringing the wee lassie home, do you?"
"What other reason could there be?"
Gunnolf shook his head.
Angus frowned at his friend. "Speak your mind, mon. What other reason would it be?"
"Mayhap he believed because of the kindness you and your brothers showed to the lass before—now that she is full grown—you would fall in love with her once you set eyes upon her again and wish to marry her. When no others would."
Angus stared at Gunnolf as if he'd become the jester for King Henry's court. He shook his head. "'Twas James and Malcolm who took the lass in hand and returned her to the keep."
"Aye, but 'twas you who asked about her welfare the three remaining days we were there when she refused to take meals in the great hall," Gunnolf said.
"And before that," Niall said, "I heard Malcolm say the lass had caught your eye."
She had, and Angus had regretted every day since then that he hadn't spoken to her beforehand to offer his friendship as Malcolm had said he should.
Angus mounted his horse, considering the notion, then dismissed it. "Nay. He knows the lass would be safe in our hands and that we have aided her before. Naught more."
"Ja," Gunnolf said, trying to look serious, but a teasing light shown in his eyes.
Angus didn't believe for one moment that Chattan thought Angus would have any interest in the lass beyond locating her and returning her home. It wasn't the first time Gunnolf had come up with an outlandish saga to explain a situation—and he had turned out to be wrong. Angus wondered if Gunnolf's storytelling was a gift handed down to him by his own family, way before Gunnolf ended up with the MacNeills.
He kicked his horse. The others quickly joined him and they were again on their way. Angus hoped they would find the lass soon, not believing she could make it this far on her own. They had slept on and off, tired beyond measure, but they wouldn't stop until they found her.
Some hours after they'd begun their journey again, they smelled smoke from a peat fire carried on the chilly breeze. Like before, they headed in the direction of the shieling, to speak to the inhabitants, to see if anyone had seen the wee lassie recently. Praying that they would have some success in learning she had returned home on her own.
***
Hearing horses approach, Edana quickly roused from a troubled sleep, worried sick about her brothers, unable to reach them with her special ability. And concerned beyond measure for her traveling companions also. Were they safe? She had hoped they would have thought to come here and been here long before this.
Naked and wrapped only in one of her wool blankets, having discarded her brat, léine, and chemise next to the fire to dry earlier that eve, she listened carefully to the hoof beats. Three horses approached, she believed.
She'd barred the door, but would it be enough?
She quickly stumbled from the pallet she'd made of her remaining two wool blankets. She glanced around the dark room lit only by the small peat fire that helped to take the chill off the stone shieling. The one-room abode was furnished with only a table and two chairs. Hoping this would do, she shoved the table across the stone floor. The table legs scraped against it, and she cringed, knowing whoever approached would hear her moving about. Well, and the smoke from the fire would clue them in that someone was within.
Her mare. Och, they could take her horse. She loved her mare and could not allow anyone to steal her. Beyond that, how could she go much of anywhere without her?
She could never find her brothers in time if she were on foot.
Her heart beating wildly, Edana pulled her spare chemise out of her bag and slipped it over her head. She stood near the table shoved up against the door and listened to the sounds of the horses approaching, their hooves clomping on the muddy ground, and tried to judge how far away they were. They were a good distance still, mayhap.
What of her horse?
She couldn't leave her alone in the byre. What if the men decided to steal her? She had time to take care of her mare before the travelers were upon her. She believed.
Wishing she'd thought of it sooner and hoping she wouldn't get her only dry piece of clothing too wet, she hurried to pull the table away from the door, the legs scraping again, making her cringe at hearing the noise she was creating. If the riders heard it, they would think her mad, moving furniture back and forth in the middle of the night. But she would not allow them to steal her horse.
She yanked open the door and looked out into the ghostly gloom. She saw no one. Judging by the sound of the horses' hoof steps, they truly were a ways off.
Heartened by the knowledge, she rushed to move her mare from the byre, the rain having turned to a thick wet mist. Darkness cloaked the byre, and in a panic, Edana fumbled around, trying to grab her mare's reins. Spooked, her mare reacted skittishly, shaking her head, sidestepping away from Edana.
She whispered to her, "Nana, come." She cooed to her, speaking encouragingly, soothingly until she had moved her out of the byre and hurried her to the door of the shieling. Edana was instantly cold all over again and shivering.
When she tried to move her mare into the shieling, Nana balked.
"Nana, come," Edana said again, her voice hushed, pleading, comforting—although terror filled her as she tried to quiet her own fears.
Finally, the mare took a step, her hooves clicking on the stone floor, and then another step and another, until she was all the way inside. As soon as Edana had moved her far enough into the room, she squeezed by her to close the door. Then she again barred it and shoved the table against it.
Brushing her hands off, satisfied she and her mare were perfectly safe, she watched the door, listening as the horses grew closer. No one said a word. She suspected the travelers would be male, and no woman would be among them.
With every step they took that brought them closer, she felt her heart beat a little faster.
The horses stopped right outside the door. The table secure against it, she stepped back, watching it, afraid whoever had come might attempt to break it down.
Nobody said anything, but the horses nickered and whinnied. And her mare, traitor that she was, called back to them.
"There is a…horse inside the shieling," a man said with a Norseman's accent, sounding half surprised and half amused.
Had the Norsemen invaded their shores again? She stepped farther away from the door, her heart racing.
A soft knock on the door followed.
She barely breathed, her hands to her chest, her eyes fixed on the door.
"We are looking for someone," a man said, his heavenly voice, deep and intriguing, though commanding.
She tilted her head to the side. Where had she heard that voice before? Deeper than she remembered it. More manly.
"We are looking for a lass by the name of Edana," the same man said. "We wish to speak to you and learn if you know anything of her whereabouts."
They knew her. They'd come for her.
They did not wish to talk. They meant to turn her over to her father. Who were they? No one from her own clan. At least she did not recognize the man as someone from her clan.
"Nay!" she said. "Go away. The woman you seek isna here." She made her voice sound much older, gruffer, scarier. They would not think she was Edana. Then she realized her mistake at once. They had not believed she was here. They had only wished to learn if the occupant of the shieling had seen her.
***
Recognizing the woman's voice, no matter how much she tried to disguise it, Angus shook his head at Niall and Gunnolf as they waited for him to decide how to handle the wildcat locked in the shieling.
They didn't know who the shieling belonged to, but no one would take a horse into it unless she was a madwoman, or a lass who was trying to protect her mount.
God's knees, he didn't know how he was going to get her to open up so he could speak with her. He stared at the door, sure she stared right back at it from the other side.
He couldn't believe she'd moved her horse into the shieling!
He tried to reassure her first that they were friends, not foe. "'Tis Angus MacNeill, my cousin, Niall, and friend, Gunnolf. Do you remember us? We have been friends of your family's clan forever. We wish you no harm. Let us in so we may speak."
"Nay, 'tis the middle of the night. I am sleeping. Go away."
This time she didn't bother to use her old woman's voice, which didn't serve to deceive him in the least anyway. "You are no' talking in your sleep. Open up."
She didn't respond.
"I dinna want to ruin a good door, but I will if it means getting out of this cold, wet weather to speak with you."
She still didn't say anything. He knew she hadn't returned to her pallet to sleep. Instead, she was waiting, tense, worried, wondering what he would do next.
He wasn't sure. He wasn't going to tear down the door unless he had to.
Gunnolf and Niall moved the horses into the byre and were wiping them down as Angus continued to stand in the thick chilly mist. "We are no' leaving. So you can let me in now or later, but we are no' going—"
"You are planning a siege? Of a shieling?"
He heard Niall and Gunnolf chuckle in the byre. He couldn't help but smile himself.
"Is this how you train for grander glory?" she asked, as if getting her second wind.
His cousin and friend laughed.
Though Angus couldn't help being somewhat amused, the night was late and he was cold and wet and tired. He folded his arms and glowered at the door, wondering if the lass would have matched wits with him when they were young. Again, he regretted not having spoken to her back then. "No one need lay siege to a castle when the treasure lies within a shieling just waiting to be plucked."
That shut her up. He certainly didn't mean that he saw her as a treasure. More that someone in her clan would. Her father at the very least. Not that Angus didn't find the lass intriguing and bonny. But at this very moment, he saw her as the wildcat of his youth.
Even Niall and Gunnolf remained silent as they waited for her response.
"Angus?" she said very sweetly.
Finally. He hadn't thought she'd respond, but she still wasn't moving the furniture that had to be blocking the door, if that was the cause of the noise they'd heard emanating from the shieling upon their approach.
"Aye?" he said.
"You have come to the wrong shieling."
His friends laughed.
"Open up, Edana," he said, louder this time, demanding. He'd ridden far too long in bad weather, worried sick about her, to put up with any games she might wish to play.
She didn't open the door. Of course. She was a wildcat and witch all in one.
Angus called out, "Gunnolf, ride to her da's castle. Tell him we have found the lass if they want to come and get her."
This would be in her father's hands then. Her father could break down the shieling door, toss the lass on a horse, and take her home where he could lock her in a tower room.
Angus's job—locate the lass and protect her—would be done.
"Ja," Gunnolf said, and led his own horse out of the byre.
Angus was certain she'd open the door to the shieling. But if she didn't, his plan would proceed.
Gunnolf mounted his horse, the leather creaking as he seated himself. He waited for Angus's signal to ride off.
Niall watched them, waiting to see what happened also.
When she didn't open the door, Angus said, "Make haste, Gunnolf. At least you will have a warmer place
to bed down the rest of the night while her father sends men to come for the lass."
"Ja." Gunnolf nudged his horse forward, then began to trot away.
Angus waited for Edana to capitulate.
She didn't.
Niall raised his brows at him. Well, it had been a worthy idea, Angus thought.
The clip-clops of the horse's hooves grew more distant.
"Tell him to stop!" Edana cried out.
Angus smiled, then tossed over his shoulder, "Gunnolf, the lass is opening her door to us. You may return your horse to the byre."
And hers, once she opened the door.
While he listened to a table scraping across the stone floor away from the door, he envisioned the girl of his youth and wondered just who had won the battle.
***
Edana should have known a Highlander who had fought in the Crusades would outmaneuver her, though she thought he might break down the door rather than attempt to outwit her. She had to admit she admired him for not doing so.
Most men she knew wouldn't have bothered with any attempts to secure her concession, but barged right in and forced it on her. Not that she still didn't suspect Angus might do just that once he gained entrance to the shieling.
She waited, dirk in hand, because they weren't going to take her back to her father. Unfortunately, she'd have to tell them her reasoning for being here, suspecting her father had not told Angus and his companions what it was—although how could her father have told anybody when he hadn't allowed her to have her say? If she had managed to tell him her errand and he had revealed this to Angus and his friends, they most likely wouldn't have come.
Angus didn't shove the door aside like she expected him to as if he was waiting for an invitation.
In exasperation, she let out her breath. She hated to have to invite him in as if it was her idea. "Come in!"
Angus pushed the door open, but he did not step inside the shieling. Dripping with water and filling the doorframe—much taller than she remembered him to be—he appeared menacing and dark, despite his words of friendship. He glanced into the room. What did he think? She had a whole army of men waiting in here with her, ready to wage war with him?
