Stranded By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance-Highlander Forever Book 2

by Preston, Rebecca

  “So it’s a persistent bunch of rats,” he said, frowning. “Have the dogs been bringing corpses?”

  “No,” Malcolm said. “They haven’t. And nobody’s seen any more rats than usual… certainly not enough to have eaten through as much food as the villagers are saying has gone missing. There’s another thing, too. I went to see John, the blacksmith. He doesn’t have a dog or a cat or anything, but he says his stores are untouched.”

  Donal took a deep breath — he clearly didn’t need any more information to know what was probably going on. The frown on his face furrowed his brow, making the young man look considerably older than his years. “Fae, then. Unseelie Fae.”

  “I think that’s likely,” Malcolm said, glancing at Nancy as he spoke. “Unless it’s a band of ordinary human robbers, camping out in the woods… though they’d be more likely than anyone to target a blacksmith.”

  “And there’s also what Maggie said,” Nancy put in, feeling obliged to give Donal all the information despite the look of dismay on his face. “She warned us not to travel by night for a little while. She said there’s a problem or something with the burgh… something may have come through.”

  Donal stiffened. “Something? Did she say what?”

  “No, she said Nessie was too interested in telling her there was something wrong with the burgh. But still…”

  “We’d best assume it’s Fae, then,” Donal said softly, clenching his fists on the table. “Damn. I’d hoped the guards could have picked up on Fae…”

  “The villagers want more dogs,” Malcolm said. “From what they were saying, the houses guarded by dogs weren’t struck by any thieves. I told them I’d see what we could do.”

  “Take them,” Donal said, gesturing. “If you’ve time, take the whole pack down. It seems like they need them more than we do. There’s a dozen, including the two that are down there already.”

  Malcolm frowned. “There are more houses than that, I’m afraid.”

  “Blast.” Donal gritted his teeth. “Could the villagers share storage, for a while at least? Move food from unguarded houses to guarded ones, get the dogs guarding the group larders… in the meantime, I’ll send a few men to my kinsmen, see if they can spare some of their hunting dogs until we can resolve this problem.”

  “Good plan. We’ll head down there now,” Malcolm said, glancing down at Nancy, who was pleased to be included in the work. “Good thing you’ve learned to tack up a horse… though we might take some others, spare the ones we used this morning.”

  “Be back by nightfall,” Donal instructed. “If Maggie’s worried, I’m worried.”

  “I’ll meet you out there, I just need to put all this away,” Nancy said, referring to her scuba gear.

  After Nancy dropped her scuba gear off in her room, she headed straight back downstairs to tack up another horse. They rode through the early afternoon sun, Nancy on a dappled gray gelding and Malcolm on another black horse — a mare this time, with a stripe of white down her nose. At their heels was a pack of dogs — Nancy kept turning back to check they were all still there, but they were obedient creatures, well-trained to follow along behind horses, and well clear of the striking of their hooves.

  “So what kind of creatures could be doing this? If it is Fae, why are they attacking the town?” she called to Malcolm, curious about the Fae and pleased at this opportunity to learn more about them.

  Malcolm looked thoughtful. “Do you know about the Courts?”

  “Not at all,” she said.

  “Loose political affiliations, basically…. I can’t say I know all the details, but from what I’ve learned from Maggie and the scholars, there are two Courts of Fae. We call them the Seelie and the Unseelie, but who knows what words they use for themselves? It may be more complicated than that, again, too… there are certainly a range of different kinds of fae. The Sidhe, for example, are Seelie — but so is the Loch Ness Monster, and so is Maggie.”

  “Of course — Maggie’s Fae, isn’t she?”

  “Aye — a Gruagach. Half human, though, which is I think why she chooses to live in our world instead of the Land of the Unaging. But she’s different to the Sidhe, and they’re different to Nessie… in the same way, the Unseelie creatures we meet may well belong to different… well, families. At any rate, there are some horrible creatures. Redcaps, we deal with fairly often — nasty creatures that steal babies away. We’ve encountered goblins before, too. Those are the more intelligent kinds, but there are dumb monsters, too. The fire-eyed wolf that Anna fought off last year… that was an Unseelie Fae, though not an intelligent one.”

  “And they all… come through the burgh whenever they choose?”

  “Aye, it’s an open gateway. And it seems that the Unseelie Fae are as curious about our world as the Seelie are… though with much more malicious consequences. The Seelie can be mischievous, and love to play jokes with us, but they never intend harm. The Unseelie do. Which is why we’re so grateful to have Nessie standing guard.”

  “Guard?”

  “Aye, she takes care of most of the creatures that try to enter this world,” he explained, and Nancy shivered a little to think of that huge creature as a guard dog. “A good ally, is Nessie. But everything else that slips through… that’s our business. So if whatever is raiding the village is Unseelie Fae, then the men and women of the Sept will sort it out.”

  “And me,” Nancy promised fiercely. “If I can do anything to help, Malcolm, please let me do it.”

  He looked over at her, surprise in his eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to! It’s the least I can do to repay you all — for your hospitality, your kindness, teaching me how to tack up a horse…”

  He chuckled, but there was a warm glow of appreciation on his face. “You’re a bold woman, Nancy Kane. I’m glad you’re on our side.”

  They rode in companionable silence after that… and Nancy glowed with the warmth of that compliment almost until they reached the village.

  Chapter 24

  They spent the rest of the afternoon in the village, their horses tethered to a post and watching the goings-on with quiet interest. Father Caleb and the half-dozen villagers who’d been harassing him emerged quickly when they rode up to the Church, and they were thrilled to see the pack of dogs loping and gamboling about on the street.

  “Now, there’s only ten more, I’m afraid,” Malcolm said, earning a disgruntled sound from the group of villagers, “but we’ve got a plan. We think you should try to combine your larders as much as possible so that each dog can guard more than one household’s supply of food.”

  “Fair enough,” said the bearded man who’d spoken earlier, giving his little group a nod. “There’s certainly some spare room in mine after all the thieving.”

  “Aye, mine too. We’ll sort it out. Your help is most appreciated,” the woman said firmly, looking up at Malcolm with a serious little nod. “Nice to see we don’t keep you lot around for no reason….”

  “Now, now, Marianne,” Father Caleb said nervously. “You know as well as I do that the men and women of the Sept keep us safe from all manner of dangers…”

  “Yes, yes,” the woman said impatiently. “Come on. We’ve work to do.”

  “Aye,” Malcolm said firmly, “and Nancy and I must be gone by nightfall, so let’s get started.”

  It wasn’t long before the village was abuzz with activity, various townsfolk emerging from their houses to help with the great reorganizing effort. Nancy felt a little at a loss to help — everyone seemed so busy, and she didn’t know which houses were which, or what was going where. Malcolm tugged her aside and suggested she go and visit the blacksmith to see if he had any old pieces of iron lying around.

  “Just in case,” Malcolm said quietly, and she nodded.

  They hadn’t mentioned the prospect of Fae interference to the villagers, and she knew instinctively that it was best to avoid that for as long as possible. Though Donal and Malcolm seemed pretty
convinced it was Unseelie Fae that were to blame for this, they were going to continue allowing the villagers to believe it was something more mundane that was causing it all.

  The blacksmith John was hard at work when she found him, and he put his hammer down with relish when she caught his attention.

  “Sorry to interrupt —”

  “Oh, no, lassie, I needed a rest. You and Malcolm brought a pack of dogs down for us, I hear?”

  She grinned — even from here, the sound of the over-excited dogs barking was loud and clear.

  “That’ll be good.”

  “Malcolm wanted to know if you had any old pieces of iron lying about that you could spare,” Nancy said carefully. She wasn’t sure how much she was supposed to let on about the Fae, or how common any of the lore about them was in the villagers’ minds… did John even know that faeries didn’t like cold iron? But John was looking at her keenly, and she realized that they probably knew a lot more than they were letting on.

  “So it’s them, is it?” he said softly, in a tone of voice much quieter than his usual brash yell. “The Fair Folk?”

  “It might be,” Nancy said, lowering her voice too. “We’re not sure. I think Malcolm’s just wanting to be safe.”

  “Aye, and fair enough, too. I’ve a handful of ingots that’ll do in a pinch for laying on windowsills and the like, and I’ll get more organized today. Better safe than sorry when it comes to the Fair Folk.”

  “Thank you, John,” Nancy said. “I’ll let Malcolm know.”

  “Keep it to yourself though, aye? The villagers… well, if we start bandying iron bars about, they’ll start complaining. It’s a sore subject, here. Half of them still believe in the Fair Folk, the other half think it’s all a load of stupid superstition, so either way, you’ll be in for a fight if you try to distribute iron. Wait and see if the dogs do the trick before you start that war, that’s my advice.”

  Nancy nodded. “I’ll let Malcolm know.”

  “Be firm with him. He can be a stubborn bastard.” John grinned at her. “Though I expect you’re getting to learn that. You two been spending time together long?”

  “I’ve only been here a few weeks,” Nancy explained, a blush rising to her cheeks at John’s knowing tone. Had Malcolm said anything about her to him? “But yes, he’s been very hospitable.”

  “I bet he has. He’s always had an eye for a pretty girl.” John gave her a wink. “Best head back. I’ll have a stack of iron higher than your head by tomorrow, if it turns out it’s necessary. Personally, I’m hoping it’s rats.” He rapped his knuckles on the table beside him in the age-old gesture for ‘touch wood’ — then tapped the iron anvil beside him, too. After a moment, Nancy darted forward and brushed her fingertips along it, too. It felt reassuringly solid, and warm-ish to the touch.

  “Faeries are really scared of iron?”

  “Aye, they are.” John turned around to his table for a moment, then turned back to her. “Here you go.” He handed her a small, cool, rectangular piece of dark metal. “Cold iron. Keep it with you, just in case.”

  “Thank you,” Nancy said, smiling — though she couldn’t fight down her worry as she headed back toward the main road with the iron bar slipped into her pocket. The weight of it was reassuring, but she was very worried that she’d be called upon to use it. She had no idea how to fight… what if a redcap came lunging out of the woods at her? Would she even recognize it? She’d seen a few drawings in the books she’d borrowed from the scholars, of course, but nothing particularly clear. Reports seemed to vary a lot about what the creatures actually looked like.

  Well, there are no redcaps or monsters here yet, she told herself firmly. So there was no sense in getting all stressed about it when there was nothing to be done about it just yet. She found Malcolm again, nodding when he raised an interrogative eyebrow at her.

  “He says he can have lots of iron ready by tomorrow, just in case we need it. But he said to be careful about being too open about it. The villagers…”

  “Have varying opinions about whether the Fae exist. I know,” Malcolm said, sighing. “Hopefully the dogs — and the reorganized larders — will do the trick.” It seemed the work was mostly done at this point, with most of the people that had been bustling through the streets nowhere to be seen. The dogs must have been distributed between the homes — she saw one lying on the steps to one little house, basking in the last of the afternoon sunlight.

  “Well,” Malcolm said, gazing around the town with satisfaction. “I think that’s our work done, for now at least. We’ll come back tomorrow to check how things are going. If you’ll accompany me again, of course?”

  “Any excuse to practice my horsemanship,” she said, giving him a flirtatious little smile.

  He grinned back at her, then offered her his arm. They headed back down the road to where the horses were tethered. As she swung aboard her horse, Nancy realized that her stomach was growling… and her eyes widened as she realized that in all the excitement, they’d completely skipped lunch.

  “Are you hungry? I just realized we didn’t eat anything.”

  Malcolm shut his eyes for a moment. “I’m starving. But by the time we get back to the castle it’ll be dinner time.”

  “Race you?”

  Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Can you ride any faster than a walk?”

  “I took lessons for a year, I can go as fast as this horse can.”

  Malcolm considered it. She could see his competitive side itching to take over, warring with his more sensible impulses… then he gave her a cheeky wink. “As it’s still light, I suppose getting back as quickly as possible is in our best interests.”

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Nancy said with a grin — then spun her horse around, urging the gelding down the road with a sharp squeeze of her legs. He didn’t have to be told twice — she’d noticed on the ride over that he was a lot more energetic than the placid mare she’d ridden that morning, full of beans and ready to run. And run he did, as she gave him his head and let him lengthen his stride down the main street of town toward the Loch, then along the shoreline of the Loch itself. She could hear Malcolm roaring laughter behind her as he urged his own horse to keep up, and she grinned, rising up in the stirrups and crouching low over the horse’s neck as her mother had taught her, all those years ago. As a young woman, she had wanted to be a jockey — unfortunately, she’d been a little too tall to be very competitive. Still, she worked for a long-time exercising racehorses, and she’d taught her little daughter all she could about riding fast. And it was all coming in handy, too.

  They tore along the shore, the late afternoon sun flickering behind the trees, the horse settling into a steady gallop that ate up the ground beneath them. She knew this wasn’t a long-term pace — all those fantasy novels where the heroes galloped day and night were wildly unrealistic — but still, she suspected they could make it back to the castle without exhausting the horses too much. Malcolm wasn’t too far behind her. She could hear him murmuring encouragement to his horse, encouraging her to move faster, but her gelding was faster still, clearly enjoying the opportunity to stretch his legs out and channel all that leftover energy into running.

  They blitzed past Maggie’s cabin — Nancy caught a flash of the little old woman on the porch, cackling and waving at them both with her scarf. That meant they were in the final stretch. Nancy refocused, urging her horse to tap into his inner racehorse — seemingly sensing that they were nearly home, he obeyed, lengthening his stride and accelerating as they got closer and closer to the castle, which was in view now, looming up on the horizon…

  Nancy whooped in triumph as she reached the land bridge a good fifty feet in front of Malcolm, who laughed breathlessly as he reined his mare to a walk. Her gelding was breathing hard, and she gave his neck a rub, encouraging him into a walk to cool down before they headed in to stable the animals. Malcolm was looking at her, his face touched by the orange light of the sunlight.


  “Not bad, Nancy Kane.”

  “I’ve got a few surprises up my sleeve,” she said, grinning back at him, her face flushed from the exertion and thrill of the ride.

  “Aye, I bet you do.”

  Chapter 25

  They took great care with the horses once they’d cooled them down with a walk back and forth in front of the land bridge. Malcolm wouldn’t hear any of Nancy’s boasting about having won their race — he insisted on a rematch later, on more closely-matched steeds, citing his mare’s quiet, placid demeanor as the reason for his loss. Nancy was more than willing to race him again — but it was already beginning to get dark as the sun slipped down below the horizon, so the rematch would have to wait until another day. She stroked her gelding’s damp neck as they led the horses back over the bridge, feeling very fond of him.

  They rubbed the horses down, too, not wanting them to catch a chill or injure themselves in the rapid cooldown after the run — though it was still summer, nights got rapidly cold, especially out here on the Loch where the cold evening wind could easily give a horse a chill. And once the horses were happily stabled with a pail of oats to keep them happy for the evening, Malcolm stretched his arms over his head, turning his gaze toward the castle, where lamps were beginning to be lit in preparation for dinner.

  “Time for our own pails of oats, I reckon,” he said, grinning down at Nancy. She nodded, more than ready for the evening meal — her stomach had been growling since they left the village, and after all, they had lunch to make up for. They strode into the castle together, Nancy walking a little faster to keep up with Malcolm’s long strides — she could tell he was as hungry as she was by the speed with which he moved.

  Donal was waiting for them at their usual table, Anna at his side, and Maeve joined them that evening too. Tonight it was stew — huge, steaming pots of it set along the tables for them to help themselves, along with some delicious, crusty oat-bread that seemed to have been freshly baked that afternoon. Nancy was in heaven, diving into the meal almost before she’d said a word to any of their friends — Malcolm chuckled at her, though she could see him rather quickly ladling stew into his own bowl.