“That’s very kind of ye,” Ally said, although Iona got the sense that he wasn’t happy about it, and she wasn’t sure why. Men were funny about things like that sometimes though, which was something she had noticed as she had gotten older.
After they spoke with Ally they went to the servants’ quarters. Many of them were there, relaxing with drinks and food. It seemed as though Ally’s fears were right; they were all taking the opportunity to relax in the absence of their masters. Broden strode in and instantly commanded their attention with a slap of his thigh. He looked each of them in turn and narrowed his eyes.
“I’m Laird Broden MacCrae,” he said, and the name instantly made the servants’ ears prick up, for the clan was infamous as one of the oldest and most respected in the land. “Ye Laird is wounded, and while he is recovering I have arrived tae help oversee the running of the estate. I suggest ye tend tae ye duties, as I’m sure ye Laird will nae want tae hear a bad report from me, or from his lass.” He turned and nodded to Iona, and this gesture endeared him to her greatly. Unlike most people he treated her as a woman, not a girl. Too many hadn’t realized that she was growing up.
“Iona is gaeing tae give me a tour of ye wonderful estate, sae I hope tae see ye all working hard,” he said. He turned and left, with Iona on his heels. She had no idea if it was proper practice for another laird to come and take command so readily, but it seemed as though Broden had been bred for leadership and people were naturally inclined to follow him. As they left the room the servants set aside their drinks and meals and hurried back to work.
“I dinnae think they were expecting that,” Iona said, slightly annoyed that Broden had basically forced her into giving him a tour because it meant she would have to spend time with him one-on-one, and she wasn’t sure she wanted that given the effect he had on her. Never before had she met someone who made her lose her words, so being alone with him filled her with trepidation, but also excitement as well. Usually Malie captured the attention of any handsome man who came onto the estate, but this time Iona had gotten there first. To her great delight, Broden was easy to talk to and they fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, although that strange tension between them was always present, and it lent an uncertain, unpredictable edge to the conversation.
“Ye need tae remind people that there is always someone watching. I dinnae mean tae pry, but why would ye brother leave?”
Iona sighed and looked to the ceiling. “Brice has a mind of his own. He has done so ever since I’ve known him. Da and Malie say it’s because of what happened with his ma.”
“I did notice that ye and Malie share few features.”
“Brice and Malie had the same ma, but she died giving birth tae Malie. I dinnae ken if Brice every truly got over it. There is sae much anger in him, he is always gaeing off on his own. I tried tae be kind, but he dinnae seem tae have it in him. All he wants tae dae is hunt. He was angry at himself for nae catching anything tae eat, sae I imagine he went out tae try again, but he should have stayed. He doesnae want the responsibility,” Iona said. She was a little afraid that she was revealing too much about the inner workings of her family, but she didn’t see much harm in being honest with Broden, who had offered his time and resources to help them. Besides, it wasn’t her fault that Brice was as stubborn as a mule and didn’t take his duties seriously.
“Sometimes it doesnae matter if ye want responsibility or nae, ye just have tae take it,” Broden said.
They walked around the estate. Iona was happy to give him a tour and they ended up in a long hallway with portraits of the Hendricksons running up and down the halls. Each of them shared the same flaming hair and green eyes, and Iona looked away in shame, fearing that she wasn’t truly a Hendrickson because she looked different from them all.
“Dae ye nae like this place?” Broden asked, noticing her subdued mood and the way she averted her gaze from the paintings. Broden had an earnest look in his eyes and it seemed as though he was genuinely interested in her, noticing the change in her emotions far better than anyone else ever did. The only one who was better was her mother, and it seemed surreal that she had only known Broden for a matter of hours and already felt comfortable enough to reveal her innermost thoughts and feelings. It was as though he knew a secret enchantment to unlock the resistance inside her soul and make her melt.
“These people are all my family, but I know I dinnae look like them. Sometimes it’s hard to remind myself that I’m different.”
“I think it’s good that ye are different. It gives ye a chance tae forge ye own path. I have a place like this at home, and when I look at them I see a reflection of myself. I know that I will be like them, daeing the same thing, watching over the castle, raising the next Laird, just as my da did, and his da did before him.”
“Would you like tae dae anything else with ye life?”
Broden smirked. “I have nae thought about it,” he admitted. “Tell me of ye other family, ye ma’s side. How did she and ye da come tae meet?”
Iona’s face lit up. It was rare that anyone ever brought up her mother’s ancestry; most people seemed to want her to forget it. Broden was perceptive and thoughtful, which she wouldn’t have expected given his harsh, somewhat brusque demeanor.
“Ma came from a small fishing village across the sea. They came far, always intrigued about what lay beyond their own small part of the world. They traded with different islands and heard of another, bigger land, one where there were more things to trade. Ma and a few others set out and sailed across the stormy sea, braving the currents and the winds, all to get over here. In the market she met Da, and he was taken with her, but she left before they could speak. She came over again, even though there was nae reason for her tae, and Da returned tae the market every day until he saw her again. He asked her tae marry him, and she said aye. She left her home for him, gave up everything she knew. She told me stories about my people, how in the past they used tae sail all over the seas. I suppose that’s where I get my spirit of adventure, but Da never lets me gae tae far.”
“Would ye leave ye home like ye ma?”
“I dinnae ken…part of me wants tae be like my ma’s people because I look sae much like them, but if I left Ma would be alone.”
“She’d have ye da.”
“Aye…” Iona said, trailing off, not entirely sure what to say anymore. “I always thought that if my people sailed over the seas there might be more people like me scattered in other lands. Maybe some of them feel the same way I dae, sae alone.”
“Why dae ye feel sae alone? Ye have a brother and sister.”
“They never warmed tae me. They think Da loves me more than them, and that I’m trying tae steal their place.” Iona had wanted to tell someone all these things for so long. Whenever she told her mother or father they brushed off her concerns, saying that she was just being silly. They were blind to the dynamic between the three siblings. “I wish I could make them see that I love them, but they treat me like a stranger.”
“I’m sorry tae hear that. Maybe ye should travel the world,” Broden suggested. Iona looked up at all the portraits, the long line of red-haired people, and wondered if perhaps he was right.
“If my da ever lets me leave,” she offered with a weak smile. “Anyway, that’s enough of me, tell me about the famed MacCraes,” she said as they walked through the hallway and emerged on the other side, walking onto a walkway that offered a view of the rising hills beyond the estate. The breeze tugged at their clothes and made Iona’s skin break out in goosebumps. Broden seemed unaffected by the cool breeze.
He smirked and nodded, ready to tell her about his clan.
4
Broden enjoyed talking with Iona as she was like nobody he had met before. Everyone he knew had lived in the same area all their lives, and had no ambition to leave it whatsoever. In contrast, her mother had come from a place far across the sea, and she had the spirit of adventure residing in her heart. He felt pity for her when she described the s
tate of her family; her brother certainly hadn’t endeared himself to Broden, what with being absent when his estate needed him and now finding out that he treated Iona with disdain. It was strange for him to hear that siblings could be so distant with each other when he had always enjoyed a strong bond with his younger brothers. They had always done everything with each other, and he knew he could trust them with his life. In fact, he had done so on many occasions.
“What dae ye know about us sae far?” Broden asked with a twinkle in his eyes. There were always plenty of stories about the MacCraes floating around the area. Most of them had an element of truth to them.
“That ye have always protected the land and the people,” Iona said, “and there was one story that said ye were descended from giants.”
Broden threw his head back and barked out a laugh, which was so loud it shot through the air like thunder.
“Aye, that would be a blessing,” he said. “But aye, we dae try tae help people. The first MacCrae was a simple farmer, and he worked hard and honestly, with never a bad word tae say about anyone. But then the Laird was an evil man and kept taking more and more for himself, until the people had naething, absolutely naething. He was nae gaeing tae stand for that, sae one day he went up tae the castle walls and challenged the Laird tae a duel. Word soon spread and people came up tae support him, and soon enough he had a huge crowd at his back. The Laird didnae want tae fight because he was a cowardly man. All he wanted tae dae was sit in his castle and count his coin, but he couldnae resist the chanting outside. He knew that if he kept resisting everyone would know he was a weak man, and naebody would respect him. He had tae accept the challenge.
“The gates of the castle opened, but instead of taking on the challenge himself, the Laird had his best guards lined up ready tae duel the challenger. He thought at least one of them would kill the MacCrae.”
“How many guards were there?” Iona asked.
“Naebody knows for sure. Some say that it was a hundred, some say a thousand,” Broden said. Iona’s eyes went wide. Broden continued with the story. “The MacCrae, this simple farmer, was nae gaeing tae be deterred. He had his simple sword and stood in front of the line. The guards took turns and came at him, and he defeated them all.” Broden’s chest swelled with pride as he spoke of his ancestor. The story was one that he knew by heart as it was told often, at every feast. “The only man left was the Laird.”
“Did the farmer kill him?”
“He could have, easily, but instead he exiled the Laird and banished him from the land. He took the castle for himself and shared the coin with his fellow people, and he promised that as long as there was a MacCrae in the castle naebody would ever feel bullied. And every MacCrae has kept that promise.”
“That’s such a wonderful story. You must be so proud,” Iona said.
“I am,” he replied. “It is our legacy, and each one of us has the responsibility of carrying that promise forward. One day, when my da does eventually pass on, I will have that responsibility officially.”
“What dae ye think happens when ye die?” Iona asked.
Broden glanced at her strangely. He wasn’t sure how to answer the question, but he did notice how she was shivering from the cold.
“I dinnae ken. I have never given it much thought tae be honest with ye lass. I dinnae think there is any sense, nae while we’re still here. I suppose there is another realm, maybe it’s better than this life, maybe it’s worse. But I have always been taught that we shall see our ancestors again, and they are looking over us all the time, offering their guidance when they can. What dae ye think?”
“I’m nae entirely sure. I like the idea that our ancestors are taking care of us.” She lifted her head to the sky, as if hoping to see an ancestral guardian appear directly in front of her. “My ma believes that when we die we are carried by Valkyries to Valhalla, where we’ll feast and dance with the gods until Ragnarok.”
“What is Ragnarok?”
“The end of all things,” Iona said. Broden arched his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips.
“I hope that that doesnae happen soon. I have tae much I want tae dae with my life!” he said. Iona smiled, glad that he wasn’t dismissing her beliefs as superstitious nonsense as some people did. Many times she had noticed people scoffing and sneering with disdain when her mother prayed to the Norse gods, and Iona had never understood why such intolerance had been displayed.
“I dinnae ken,” Iona said. “In truth, I dinnae ken which one is true.”
“Maybe they both are,” Broden suggested. Iona looked at him quizzically. He liked the way her hair fell about her face, and the way her blue eyes sparkled brightly, even in dim light. They seemed to hold something ethereal inside them, an alluring mystery that drew him in. “I just mean tae say that maybe there is just one afterlife and we all gae tae the same one, we just have different ways of speaking about it.”
Iona considered the matter for a moment and then nodded, apparently deciding she liked that interpretation of events.
Broden noticed that Iona continued to shiver as the breeze swept around them. He pulled his red cloak away from his shoulders and wrapped it around hers, clasping it around her neck. He saw the emerald necklace, and her slender neck. When his fingers brushed against her skin, he found that it was as smooth as the finest material his mother had ever woven, and as flawless as a clear summer’s day. Breath caught in his throat and his entire body bristled with tension. Now that he was standing so close to her he could breathe in her scent. It was sweet, feminine, and flowery. She may as well have been a child of the forest. Her eyes were deep pools, and he found that he wanted to throw himself into them and drown. Heat flared inside him, and a strength pulsed, making him yearn to fling his arms around her and pull her into him. This uncontrollable, irresistible desire had only flooded through his body on a few occasions, and never this strongly.
“All this talk of the afterlife makes me sae worried for my da,” Iona said softly, her lips barely parting. “I dinnae ken what I’d dae if he died. How badly is ye da wounded? Are ye afraid tae lose him?”
As soon as she mentioned his father, Broden’s mood switched instantly and he glowered.
“I dinnae want tae talk about him,” he snapped.
Iona looked shocked.
“I dinnae mean anything by it,” she said. She looked so hurt, and Broden felt awful. His flare of aggression faded almost as swiftly as it had appeared.
“I’m sorry lass, it’s just that it’s my fault he’s wounded,” Broden said. His mind went back to the previous night in the heat of battle. He had drawn his sword and ridden near his father, ready to engage the bandits. He had been so determined to get revenge that a red mist had fallen over his face and he had lost sight of his main task: to defend his father. He should have been riding beside his father to warn him of incoming attacks or draw fire away from him, but instead Broden wanted glory for himself and went after the bandits, wanting to feel his steel sink into flesh and reap the rewards of glory. Because of his negligence there had been nobody to warn his father, and nobody to push his father away.
“I should have done more in the battle. It was my duty tae keep him safe,” Broden admitted.
“I’m sure it was nae all ye fault. Brice always says that battles are a matter of chance.”
“Aye, that is true in some ways, but I should have been more careful. He would never have let the same thing happen tae me,” Broden said, thinking about all the times his father had protected him from danger. The powerful shadow had loomed over Broden all his life, and in some ways he had never been allowed to step out from that shadow, had never been allowed to be his own man. His father was always there. Even though Artair was still a strong man he shouldn’t really have been leading a patrol against some bandits, yet Artair couldn’t seem to resist.
Artair was a strong man, both in deed and in word. He was also a callous man and didn’t suffer fools gladly. He had always taught Broden and his oth
er sons to stand up for themselves and to take their destiny into their own hands. But Artair wasn’t willing to let go of the past, and seemed to still think that he could do as much as he could in his youth. Broden thought perhaps it was a failing in himself that he hadn’t been able to convince his father that he was able enough to lead the patrols and the raids. Now that his father was wounded he had the chance to prove to Artair that he was ready for more responsibility.
“Oh!” Iona exclaimed. “Now that I think about it, I have heard a story about your da before. He was out hunting and broke his leg, but he still hunted a bear, killed it, and only then did he tend tae his wound.”
Broden smiled. “Aye, there are plenty of those stories tae.” He had heard them all before, and shared a few of them with Iona, since she seemed to be interested in that sort of thing. He told her of the time her father drank fourteen pints of ale by himself and then took on two men in a bar fight with one hand tied behind his back. Iona laughed, then furrowed her brow.
“What stories dae ye have?” she asked. Broden stroked his jaw and looked out to the horizon.
“I suppose I dinnae have tae many,” he admitted. “I have hunted bandits and beasts. I have even spent a night in the Crow Forest alone.”
Iona’s eyes went wide at the mention of this. “The Crow Forest?” she gasped.
“Aye. I was hunting when I was a wee lad and I lost track of time, so focused was I on my prey. I didn’t realize what was happening until it was tae late and darkness was all around me. I tried tae turn back home, but the paths were winding and every tree looked the same. I could have wandered all night without being able tae find my way back.”
“What did ye dae?”
“I decided that I wasn’t gaeing tae search at all. I stayed in one place and slept against a tree.”
Highlander’s Flaming Secret (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance) Page 3
