Highland Persuasion (The MacLomain Series- Early Years)

by Sky Purington

  “Help!”

  When the cry resounded from behind he didn’t think twice but swung and grabbed onto Caitriona. Though he’d been quick it wasn’t quite quick enough.

  Or should he say, not soon enough.

  Aye, he caught her wrist but only moments before she fell over the side. Even as he lowered sharply to a crouch he was pulled forward. The only thing that kept him from barreling over the cliff after her was an inch high bit of rock. The heel of his boot caught and he lurched, his back slamming against the rock. Teeth clenched he measured his weight and grabbed her wrist with his other hand.

  Meanwhile Caitriona screamed and flailed.

  “No, lassie, no!” Iosbail cried. “You must stay calm and quiet. The Sinclair will save you.”

  Alexander had no time to thank the Broun for her sound thinking, but focused his entire body on maintaining the precious act of balance. Thank God, Caitriona seemed to have listened because both her voice and body stilled. He closed his eyes. What fear she must be feeling.

  “I’ll pull you up but you must climb out ahead of me as there’s no room behind,” he yelled.

  He hated to speak so loudly but he’d be damned if he’d lose her.

  Thighs shaking, he slowly stood and pushed back against the rock. In effect, he began to pull her up a fraction at a time. Sweat broke out as he continued. Eventually, after what seemed far too long, she pulled her body onto the ledge and rolled out ahead of him.

  “Now keep to the wall and stand. Then continue to show courage,” he said.

  Caitriona didn’t seem to need much prompting. Though her body visibly shook, she pulled herself up and stood. Alexander breathed a sigh of relief, his gaze going to Iosbail. She appeared as relieved as him and offered a nod of encouragement.

  Disaster had been averted.

  Now the Norman lassie led.

  Whether from pure terror or a basic need to survive, Caitriona moved forward without a word. The wind continued to whip as the sun crawled up, its deep orange giving way to a vivid red across the wide sky.

  When they at last made it off the ledge, the Norman lass fell to her knees. He knew he should keep an eye out for the enemy but she appeared so helpless. Alexander crouched and took her into his arms as she cried. He hoped their journey and the torment he’d put the poor girl through had been worth it.

  “Shh, lass. I’m so sorry,” he whispered and stroked her hair.

  Her body trembled but her sobbing soon stopped. He barely heard her when she whispered, “I nearly ruined it for us all. I nearly killed him.”

  Alexander held her, confused. “Killed who?”

  “Alan. The Stewart will die if I’m not there.”

  Who did she speak of?

  “Eye to the rocks, laddie.”

  Alexander nodded and pulled Caitriona to her feet. “’Tis time to once more be strong, aye lass?”

  Her dark watery eyes met his. “Aye. Much thanks, my laird.”

  He deserved no thanks. He’d nearly got her killed!

  But now was no longer the time to worry. They had more pressing issues. Or did they? The sun was fully above the horizon now, its sharp golden light deep and pressing as it carved the standing stones to something almost otherworldly. Thick fog skirted their bases and burst with white light as the sun hit it. Even with years of magic, Alexander had never seen anything so powerful.

  “Innis is here. I’ve no need of magic to know it,” Iosbail said softly.

  As she said it the first arrow flew. Of course Innis was here. No matter which route they took the Hebrides laird would be waiting. Had he really expected anything else? No. Did he have a plan? Aye.

  At least the route they’d taken had kept the Broun from certain death. If she’d had her way she would have died beneath the blade in battle. Alexander knew without doubt that she’d sought such. Without her magic, she was as mortal as he. Yet he’d had a plan laid before they’d even set foot on the treacherous path, one that would save her, the Irishman and Caitriona.

  He laid down his sword.

  Before anyone could say a word he walked forward, arms raised in the air and yelled, “I’ve a bargain to strike with you, Innis, one that will give you the whole of the Sinclair clan.”

  Even though his declaration was met with dead silence he continued walking.

  Only when he’d walked well past the standing stones did Innis and at least fifty well-armed warriors appear from various areas surrounding them. Alexander kept his arms raised but stopped walking as the laird approached.

  When Innis stopped so too did the men behind him.

  Cold, cunning eyes stayed locked on Alexander. “What good would the Sinclair’s do when I’ve got the MacLomain’s?”

  Alexander arched a brow. “I’m surprised you even need to ask. With the power of your clan at your back when combined with the Scottish throne, little could stand in your way, including the MacLomain’s.”

  The hint of a smile graced Innis’s face. “While ‘tis true your blood holds the future of Scotland the MacLomain’s hold the past and that is something I’m far more interested in controlling.”

  “You misunderstand,” Alexander said. “I wish not to give you Edgar’s seat but he who was here long before, rightful king, Cináed mac Ailpín,” he said softly. “Kenneth MacAlpine.”

  Innis arched a brow and he watched Alexander more closely. “The picts, me gaels” he whispered, eyes adrift before he seemed to gather himself and say, “Even that doesnae go back as far as the MacLomain’s in Scotland, but it does change my course of thinking. Tell me more.”

  “Aye.” Alexander nodded. “But there’s a bargain to be struck first.”

  “Isn’t there always,” Innis murmured and looked skyward before his eyes swung sharply to Alexander. “Through those rocks I can travel anywhere in time. You’ve little to bargain with.”

  “Dinnae I?” He spoke more softly, dialect switching to something Innis would affiliate with. “Me mum was of Cináed mac Ailpín’s lineage so I’ve the connection to travel to the time when he first ruled the Scots. Kenneth was a man of great magic. Do you think he would willingly let anyone near him not of family? Anyone he sensed did not have his blood? Through your Stonehenge I can bring you back to conquer a prize far greater than the Sinclair’s. With that prize you’ll find yerself in a time when the MacLomain’s were not nearly what they are now.”

  Innis said nothing while he eyed Alexander.

  It was one thing to strike a bargain for land and holdings affiliated with a MacLomain, another thing entirely to gain control of such an ancient and powerful throne that controlled so much in a time so ripe with possibilities.

  Alexander kept his eyes locked with Innis.

  If ever there was a time to bank on pure greed, now was it.

  “What proof have you?” Innis said.

  Alexander yanked up his sleeve and showed the laird the area under his elbow. Though only a birthmark the word Alba was clearly seen. This marked him one with the Kingdom of Picts, known to most as the Kingdom of Alba.

  Innis grabbed his arm and stared, a muscle in his cheek twitching, before his eyes rose to Alexander’s. Those of the Hebrides considered themselves rulers unto themselves so it was impossible to tell if his reaction was one of respect or loath.

  Either way, Alexander continued to bank on it leading to greed.

  Innis raised his hand in the air and made a movement. His warriors fell back. “We’ve struck a bargain. Tell your people to enter the stones. They are free to go.”

  Alexander turned and signaled to Shamus.

  Even as the three walked forward he saw Iosbail lagging, her eyes narrowed on him. Shamus grabbed her arm and kept her moving but still she stared, clearly displeased. The full sun burst over everyone, chasing away the last of the fog. Now the Stonehenge stood tall, proud and ready.

  “How do I know they’ll be safe?” he asked as he watched.

  “We struck a bargain,” Innis repeated.

  D
id they have enough magic to travel? Of course they did. Adlin was on the other side. When they reached the center of the stones, Alexander said, “I’ll need proof they made it safely.”

  “Watch then. You’ve the power of illusion and will always know what is real and is not real. That is all the proof you need.”

  Indeed. So he did. Clear and bright the stones seemed to suddenly connect with the sky as his eyes connected with Iosbail’s. She shook her head and mouthed, “What have you done?”

  “Take care of your lady,” he mouthed back.

  Fury lit her eyes and she started to run toward him.

  But it was too late.

  The sky exploded overhead and the sun met the ground, the stones seemed to implode then expand. All turned white. Then snapped shut in an instant. All that remained was the Stonehenge and an angry Broun’s voice on the wind.

  “Bloody Sinclairs!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Enough with the bloody Sinclairs.

  “Alexander!” she screamed over and over.

  “Nay lassie, no more.”

  Though she continued to stare at where he’d been she knew Alexander was long gone. Now Shamus had his arms around her and the world had gone from gray to green. Even as tears stung her eyes Iosbail knew the Hebrides were gone.

  She was in Cowal.

  “He’s gone, lassie.”

  “Aye,” she whispered and kept staring despite his absence. “Aye.”

  It was a hard thing processing what he’d done. The Sinclair had forfeited himself for their safety. Foolish man! What lad in his right mind did such a thing? A foolish lad, that’s who!

  Caitriona started to whimper. Shamus nudged Iosbail. “We’ve a problem lass and I hope they’re of your sort.”

  Though she found it hard to concentrate she turned to the horses breaking from the forest and automatically raised her arm in the air as their arrows flew. As if they’d hit a wall the arrows stopped short and fell to the ground.

  Her magic had returned.

  When Shamus and Caitriona turned their eyes her way she shrugged. “Worry not. They are MacLomains.”

  Though she knew she should be thrilled she once more possessed magic, Iosbail felt intensely empty. If anything, sadness swamped her every thought. How exactly had Alexander achieved what he had? She looked around; just to make sure he wasn’t with them. As numb as she felt, Iosbail quickly became convinced that she’d still manage to clear up this mess.

  After all, she had magic again.

  As the MacLomain horsemen bore down she went to greet them. There was no way to know what time frame they’d arrived in but it didn’t matter. She was Adlin’s sister and if they gave any more trouble she’d make their life hell.

  “I’m Iosbail MacLomain of the Broun clan, Adlin MacLomain’s sister.” She frowned. “What year is it?”

  The lad cocked his brows. “Are you then?” He laughed. “Why then is Iosbail MacLomain all tucked away in our castle, a very old woman indeed.”

  Time-travel.

  Bloody tricky thing.

  Iosbail didn’t give him a chance to laugh long but strode up to his horse. “I’m Iosbail MacLomain, twenty-three years old this year though I’ve lived five hundred years.” She turned her face to the sun. “Do ye see the truth in me words ye arrogant youth?” His horse made to back away but she held onto its reins. “Well, do ye then?”

  His stunned eyes widened and he whispered, “Aunt Iosbail?”

  Well that couldn’t be good.

  “Who be you?” She kept her Irish tongue thick.

  He made a small motion with his hands, one that told his fellow horsemen that they came upon friends, not foe. His eyes never leaving hers he came down from his horse and bowed. “I’m Ferchar MacLomain, Chieftain of the MacLomains.”

  Ferchar? She didn’t know that name. “What year is it?”

  “As the Christians would label it, 1225,” he said.

  “Impossible,” she whispered, eyes wide. “It was only just 1093.”

  Ferchar stared at her. “Who knew you were so beautiful?”

  Iosbail narrowed her eyes. “How else would I be?” Aggravated, she surveyed her surroundings. “Where is Adlin?”

  “Back at the castle.” Ferchar cast an uneasy glance around. “But that’s not a place for you.”

  “Well, why not lad?”

  Ferchar blinked, clearly uncomfortable. “Because you’re already there.”

  Iosbail was about to tell him what she thought of that when an old man appeared at the edge of the forest. Stunned, she watched as he made his way in their direction. It took no magic to know who he was. Though elderly he still possessed the same all-consuming, arrogant presence he always had.

  Adlin.

  When at last he stood before her they studied one another for several moments before he said, “I forgot how beautiful you were.”

  “And I would’ve never imagined you so shriveled!” Iosbail huffed. “What is the meaning of this, Adlin? Why am I in this time?” She narrowed her eyes. “What have you done now?”

  It seemed for a moment he wanted to touch her cheek but did not. “Even then we didnae have the warmest of relationships, aye?”

  Iosbail was surprised by the sadness in his voice. Though it was true he drove her mad most of the time she still loved her brother. But now was not the time for such talk. “I need answers. I dinnae travel alone.”

  Adlin’s eyes went to the others fondly. “I well remember Shamus and Caitriona. Good to see you again.”

  Though both nodded they were clearly confused. After all, they’d never met him.

  Adlin turned to Ferchar. “Back to the castle now. They are here for me.”

  Ferchar frowned but said nothing. It was only when he and his men had vanished back the way they’d come that Adlin said, “Your nephew will remember none of this.”

  “So we’re not where we’re supposed to be, aye?” she asked.

  “Nay.” Adlin again looked at the others. “I needed this reprieve to explain things.”

  “I’ve no time for this. We’ve got to get back to Alexander.”

  “There is another who needs your assistance far more than him.”

  Iosbail felt a chill run through her. Here she spoke to her brother far in the future. It stood to reason he knew precisely what had happened to Alexander.

  “Tell me what happened to the Sinclair,” she said softly.

  “’Tis not my place to tell.”

  Incredulous, Iosbail said, “’Tis entirely your place. Wasn’t it you who took away my magic when I traveled to his time?”

  “And wasn’t it I who asked you not to go to begin with?”

  It took everything she had not to slap him. “Had I not gone to begin with it stands to reason I wouldn’t be here to help you now.”

  “Exactly!” Adlin grinned. “See, it all worked out quite well.” He brushed away her next words. “You will get your answers about the Sinclair laird but they willnae come from me, lass. Well, at least not this version of me.”

  Iosbail was about to respond but Adlin turned away, his blue eyes cutting to Caitriona. Her eyes rounded when he took her hands and said warmly, “I’m so glad you’re here, lassie. I imagine you’ve been looking for Alan Stewart.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” Shamus murmured.

  “Aye!” Caitriona’s eyes watered. “Is he here then?”

  “Aye!” Adlin said, merry. “And he’ll soon be in need of your help.”

  “I need to see him. Make sure he’s well. My dreams put him in great danger.”

  “Indeed.” Adlin smiled, quite pleased. “We’ve a short distance to travel then you’ll be able to see him.”

  Iosbail cursed her brother. The lad was up to no good. He had a plan and she suspected that it would be trying on the poor lass. Anything to do with Adlin tended to be trying.

  “Come,” Adlin said. “We’ve a small walk to the Defiance.”

  Iosbail had found it curious they had
n’t traveled here through it to begin with.

  “So it still works in this time?” Iosbail asked.

  “Aye, but not nearly as well as it once did.” A glint of sadness entered his eyes. “The windows of the gods have faded.”

  “So you pulled us through time without it?” Iosbail narrowed her eyes. “Your powers have grown.”

  “As my powers grow my body weakens. ‘Tis the way of things I suppose.”

  Iosbail walked alongside him and the others followed. “Your appearance alarms me, brother. As does what I’m told of mine.”

  Adlin shook his head. “Though I know you willnae believe me it saddened my heart to bring you to this time, to have you see what would become of me.”

  “I dinnae ken,” she said.

  “I found my true love. A lass named Mildred.” Adlin smiled fondly. “Beautiful girl. Like me she’s now old but our love is just as strong.”

  What was he getting at? Then it occurred to her.

  “It was finding her, your true love, that began a slow aging process,” Iosbail murmured.

  “Only true love can do such to those like us,” Adlin said softly.

  Iosbail’s heart skipped a few beats. “Ferchar said I am an old woman in this time.”

  “Aye.” Adlin put his arm through hers as they walked. “And does that sadden you?”

  “Aye!” she replied. “Who wants to grow old?”

  “So you’d rather die in battle young?” he said, a devious gleam in his eyes.

  “I’d rather have had the choice.”

  “Well, it seems you chose love above all else.”

  “Foolish. When did I make such a choice?” Even as she said it Iosbail realized what he implied. In her long existence the choice to die in battle hadn’t been hers. She was immortal.

  Except when in the Hebrides.

  She stopped short, eyes wide and shook her head. “Nay!”

  “Aye,” Adlin said, his wise eyes compassionate.

  “I dinnae love the Sinclair!”

  Shamus chuckled.

  “Nay!” she repeated and kept walking.

  “You’re about the same age as me in this time,” Adlin said.

  Iosbail scowled. She refused to believe it. “Alexander is my enemy.”