Highland Spirit: Highland Chronicles Series - Book 2

by Rose, Elizabeth

  “Ye killed my wife!” shouted her father, pulling at the ropes that bound him. “I’ll kill ye for this, Diarmad, I swear I will.”

  “Nay, ye’re wrong.” Diarmad turned to look at her father. “I didna kill her and neither would I have. It was the foolish mistake of my guard. And as ye see, he’s paid for it with his life. And before ye accuse me of killin’ yer brother-by-marriage, his death was an accident when he fell and hit his head tryin’ to flee.”

  “Release me. And let my family go.” Alana’s father pulled at the ropes so hard his wrists began to bleed.

  “Ye’re no’ goin’ anywhere, Chisholm,” growled Diarmad. “I’ve set ye up so that no clan will ever want ye near them again. They all want to kill ye because of things ye’ve done. Ye have nowhere to go now and neither does yer family. Ye’ll stay with me. Ye’ll all be my family now.”

  “Nay! Never. I never should have listened to ye,” yelled her father.

  “Nay, ye shouldna. That was yer first mistake.” Diarmad chuckled. “Ye were an easy mark, but I never expected yer brother-by-marriage to die, nor yer wife to put up a fight. This treasure must be worth more than I thought. I will no’ set any of ye free until ye hand it over.”

  “We dinna ken about any treasure,” shouted Alana. “Let us go.”

  “Och, that’s a lie, lassie,” snarled Diarmad. “After all, yer faither was the one to tell me about it in the first place or I’d never have kent about it at all. Isna that so, Chisholm?”

  “Faither?” whispered Alana, shaking her head as her father’s face turned sullen and he looked to the ground.

  “I’m sorry, Alana. I didna mean to do it. But Diarmad made me believe we’d all be rich from it and that I could use it to pay off my debts.”

  “Yer faither is weak, but I see ye are strong like yer mathair.” Diarmad reached out and ran a finger along Alana’s cheek, making her cringe. “To make certain none of ye will try to leave me, I’m goin’ to take ye as my wife.”

  “What? Nay!” she cried, panicked to think she’d be marrying him today instead of Ethan. “I canna marry ye and I would never! I am Ethan MacKeefe’s betrothed and I am carryin’ his bairn. He’ll hunt ye down like a dog to find me and then he’ll skin ye alive.”

  Diarmad made a tisking sound with his tongue. “No’ true,” he said. “Ye see, yer betrothed’s clan thinks ye betrayed them now. Besides, my man, Fergus, killed Ethan just before we boarded the boat. Of course, it was in self-defense.”

  “Nay!” she cried, not wanting to believe it. Emotions swept through her. “I dinna believe ye. Ye lie!”

  “Fergus, tell her it’s the truth,” said Diarmad.

  “Diarmad, I need to talk with ye,” said the man, calling Diarmad over to him. They conversed in secret for a minute and then Alana saw Fergus hand something to his leader. Diarmad looked angry at first, but then he smiled and headed back to Alana as the ship continued to sail and Scotland got further and further away.

  “Here’s all the proof ye need.” Diarmad held out his open palm. Alana looked down to see a bloodied piece of the MacKeefe plaid. Atop it sat the wedding ring that Ethan was going to put on her finger at the ceremony.

  “Nay, that’s no’ my ring,” she said in denial, shaking her head.

  “Take it, lass. Look at it closely and ye’ll see that it is.”

  With two fingers Alana picked up the ring and inspected it. Inside the gold circle were engraved their names – Alana and Ethan. She clutched the ring, holding it to her chest, feeling her heart breaking when she realized Ethan was dead. Too angry to cry, too shaken to try to fight the man, a lone tear dripped down her cheek.

  “No need to keep that, since ye willna be marryin’ him after all,” said Diarmad, ripping the ring from her hand.

  “Nay! My ring!” she cried, not wanting to lose one of the last remembrances she had of Ethan. “Isna it enough ye’ve already killed Ethan, my mathair and my uncle? Please, at least let me keep the ring. Ye’ve taken everythin’ else.”

  Diarmad looked at the ring in his hand, his eyes slowly lifting to meet hers. “I told ye – I didna kill any of them. Keep the blamed thing, I dinna care!” He threw it to the ground at her feet. Alana dropped to her knees and scooped it up, bringing it to her mouth in a kiss.

  “I think I changed my mind about ye,” said Diarmad, thumping his fingers against his cheek in thought. “Ye are too much trouble. Besides, I dinna want a wench who is already deflowered and carryin’ a dead man’s bastard as my wife.”

  Alana felt relief push through her pain, until she heard what Diarmad said next.

  “I’ll marry yer sister, instead. Kirstine, is it? She’ll give me bairns and ye’ll all be part of my family now so there will be no need to ever try to leave.”

  “Nay!” screamed Alana, fearing for her sister. “Do no’ touch Kirstine.”

  “Bring the girl to me,” Diarmad instructed his men.

  “Alana, help me!” cried Kirstine as the guard pulled her and Finn apart. She was young and innocent, and very frightened.

  “Leave her be!” Alana ran to her sister, gathering her into her arms in a protective hold.

  “Tell me where the treasure is, and mayhap I’ll no’ marry yer sister after all,” Diarmad tried to bargain.

  “I dinna ken,” cried Alana, really not knowing. “Honest, I dinna ken at all.”

  “Throw them in the hold!” commanded Diarmad, storming away to the forecastle of the ship. “When we get to Ireland, I’ll marry the lass. And one way or another, I will find that treasure no matter how long it takes. I’ll find it if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

  “Alana, I’m scared,” whimpered Kirstine, clinging to her.

  “Me, too,” said Finn, running to them as Alana gathered them both into her arms.

  “Dinna worry,” she said, gripping her wedding ring tightly, horrified, sad and angry because she would never see the man she loved again. Then she thought of the key her mother gave her that was hidden in her pocket. Her hand slid down to cover it from outside her clothes. If Diarmad had known she had it, he would surely have taken it as well. “I will somehow find that treasure. I’ll find it and we’ll trade it for our lives.”

  Alana only had her mother’s last words and the mysterious key to go by, but she had to figure it out. Their lives depended on it now.

  She tried to comfort her brother and sister, and tried not to think of Ethan or she’d break down crying. She had to be strong. For her sister and brother. But her mother’s last warning to protect the treasure at all costs echoed in her mind. Her mother died to keep the treasure out of the wrong hands. Her uncle was dead because of it, too. Alana’s hand caressed her belly as the guards led them past her father and to the hold. She realized she had to do whatever it took to help her family . . . and to protect Ethan’s unborn baby.

  The weight of the world was on her shoulders again, but this time it felt too heavy to bear.

  Chapter 1

  Five Years Later

  Scotland, 1385

  Ethan MacKeefe was known throughout the land as being a rugged, mighty Highland warrior, excellent with a sword, a beast during battle, and afraid of nothing . . . except for mayhap ghosts.

  “Come on, Ethan. What are ye doin’ just sittin’ there?” complained Ethan’s good friend, Hawke, jumping to the shore from the boat that they’d just sailed from the mainland to the Isle of Kerrera. The boy named Oliver traveled with them. Hawke held out his hand to help the boy to shore, but Oliver stubbornly pushed it away.

  Oliver was nine, and his sister, Sophie, who was back on shore, was six years of age. They were born of Hawke’s late wife, Osla, although Hawke was not their father. Since the passing of the children’s mother, Hawke and his new wife, Phoebe, took them into their care. Osla had been Phoebe’s cousin.

  “We need to find Sophie’s doll,” Hawke reminded Ethan. “Her nonstop cryin’ ever since her mathair passed away is drivin’ the clan mad. Oliver says she probably left it s
omewhere near the large rock behind the hut where they used to live. I hope we can find it.”

  “I can find it,” said the boy confidently. “And I dinna need ye two to help me do it.”

  “Listen, lad,” said Hawke with a scowl, having no patience anymore. He was used to being a loner, and definitely not comfortable around children yet. “It’s nighttime and we’re on a remote isle that is said to be haunted. No’ to mention, ye are naught but a lad. Ye’ll take our help and like it.”

  “Nay,” protested the boy. “I dinna care what ye say. I’m no’ afraid. I dinna need anyone.” Oliver took off at a sprint into the darkness, causing Hawke to release a frustrated breath. His hands balled up into fists before he slowly released them.

  “Are ye comin’ with us, Ethan?” asked Hawke, looking back over his shoulder. “Or are ye goin’ to sit there starin’ up at that bluidy castle all night long?”

  “Everyone kens about Blackbriar Castle,” said Ethan, being very superstitious and wanting to go nowhere near it. “It is cursed and we shouldna be here.”

  “God’s bones, Ethan, ever since Alana betrayed and left ye, I swear ye’ve been actin’ like a dolt. In the past five years, ye’ve become even more superstitious than ever. It’s ridiculous that ye still fear imaginary ghosts although ye’re a man of six and twenty years.”

  Ethan never did get over the fact that his betrothed played him for a fool, working alongside her thieving father to betray him. He’d been in love with the girl and thought she loved him, too. But when he realized their wedding was naught but part of a ploy to steal the MacKeefe cattle, he was heartbroken as well as furious. One of the clan members saw Alana willingly leave the MacKeefe camp the day of the wedding with a man. It was just before the MacDougals arrived to tell them what happened. She’d boarded a ship with her entire family and sailed away, never to be seen again. He was almost glad when he found out Caleb’s pine marten stole the wedding ring, because he would never be able to look at it again without feeling like his life was ruined.

  “The ghosts are no’ imaginary,” said Ethan, speaking of not only the ghost of Blackbriar Castle but also the ghosts of his past.

  Ethan was a brave man, but this isle truly spooked him. As a boy, he once took up the challenge from his friends of coming here and also entering the castle on his own. He’d taken the dare because he liked a challenge and was mischievous in many ways. He lived with the Chisholms then, since his mother belonged to the clan. It was many years later, on his mother’s deathbed, when he discovered his father was Onyx MacKeefe. After her passing, he found his father and moved to the MacKeefe Clan instead.

  As a boy, he’d seen a ghost the night he entered Blackbriar Castle and, to this day it still spooked him. The worst part was that his friends never believed him and he’d ended up being teased about it his entire life.

  “Ye ken the stories as well as anyone,” Ethan told Hawke. “And dinna forget we both heard the ghost scream the last time we were here.” It was said a crazy old man that everyone called Mad Murdock lived in the ruins of the old castle by himself. The story was that he murdered his bride and tossed her out the tower window on their wedding night. “I saw the ghost of Mad Murdock’s bride when I was a child, Hawke,” continued Ethan. “People still hear her scream all the time, all the way to the mainland sometimes. She walks the battlements to this day lookin’ to get revenge on her husband.”

  “Blethers!” said Hawke, waving his hand through the air. “It’s all idle gossip, Ethan, and ye ken it. Ye canna believe everythin’ ye hear. No matter what ye thought ye saw, ye were mistaken. After all, yer faither was at one time thought to be a demon because of his two different-colored eyes, but we all ken it is no’ true.”

  “Then what about the screams?” asked Ethan. “Ye canna deny ye heard them, too.”

  “It was probably only a night owl or a wolf. It certainly wasna a ghost.”

  Running a hand over his wolfhound’s back in thought, Ethan looked up at the dark, dreary castle in the distance illuminated only by the light of the moon. Tangled vines and dead trees surrounded the crumbling walls. He felt a chill run up his spine and it wasn’t just because of the weather. Someone was watching them. He could feel it in his bones. And he didn’t like it one bit. All he wanted to do was to turn around and sail back to the MacKeefe camp on the mainland. A warm fire and a potent tankard of Old Callum MacKeefe’s Mountain Magic was what he really needed right now.

  The night was dark and the air was chilly this eve. A fine dusting of fresh snow covered the ground. He stared at the brooding castle on the cliffs above him and pulled his cloak closer for warmth. Blackbriar Castle was thought to be abandoned now, since no one had seen Mad Murdock on the mainland in years. Bards told stories that the ghost of the wife of Murdock killed him and that he was lying dead somewhere inside the ruins. They also said that anyone who dared to attempt to enter the castle wound up cursed or dead. It was an evil place and because of it, no one stepped foot on this isle if they didn’t have to.

  Without a doubt, Ethan knew it was a mistake to come here, especially at night and in a storm.

  “For the love of God, Ethan, move yer bluidy arse!” growled Hawke. “I dinna have time to hold yer hand while ye worry like a wench. I need to go after the lad before he gets lost or mayhap hurt. I promised Phoebe I’d watch after him and now he’s gone and run off on me.”

  “Stop it, Hawke,” snarled Ethan, not liking the way his friend talked to him. “And remember, Oliver lived on this isle his entire life even if it was against his will. I am sure he could walk it in his sleep and still no’ get lost. So ye are the one who is worryin’ like a wench, no’ me.”

  “Och, mayhap so,” agreed Hawke, running a weary hand through his hair. “But I dinna like the idea of the boy takin’ off in the dark by himself. I am responsible for him now. I need to find him quickly. If anythin’ happens to him while he’s in my care, Phoebe will have my head.”

  Ethan chuckled. “I think bein’ afraid of a wife is worse than fearin’ any ghost.”

  “Just wait until ye’re married and ye’ll see,” mumbled Hawke under his breath.

  “Dinna say that,” Ethan ground out through gritted teeth. Marriage was a sore subject with him ever since Alana abandoned him at the altar and left him for another man. He was so scarred by being betrayed by someone he’d loved that he decided he would never marry in this lifetime. He would never again take the chance of being rejected again because it hurt too much.

  “Sorry,” said Hawke, realizing what he’d said. “I didna mean anythin’ by that.”

  “I ken,” Ethan answered. “So Oliver still doesna like ye, does he?” Ethan stepped from the boat onto the wet shore. In one leap, his large wolfhound made it to the shore as well.

  “Nay, he doesna, and I dinna ken what to do to gain his trust.” The fact that Oliver rejected Hawke really bothered him now that he was in the position of being the boy’s father. It was an odd situation, but both Hawke and the boy needed to accept each other even though it might take some time.

  “Mayhap ye should let me help ye,” said Ethan with a chuckle. “After all, children like me. They dinna fear me the way they do ye. With yer disposition, I’m sure they all think ye’re goin’ to bite off their heads.”

  “Hah!” spat Hawke. “Children are no’ afraid of me, and neither are they afraid of a little ol’ ghost that doesna even exist. Therefore, I doubt ye’ll be of any help to me at all. Now stop all this clishmaclaver and let’s go.”

  Ethan started to follow Hawke back to the hut where Oliver used to live with his mother and sister as nothing more than prisoners of an evil man named Euan who was now thankfully dead. But when his hound, Trapper, started barking at something in the dark, he stopped in his tracks.

  “What is it, boy?” Ethan reached out with one hand, running it over the dog’s back. With his other hand, he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. He was on full alert should he need to fight.

  “He pro
bably just saw a rat. It’s nothin’,” Hawke called back as he started out after the boy.

  “Aye, that’s all it was,” Ethan tried to convince himself, but he knew it wasn’t so. From the corners of his eyes in the moonlight, he thought he saw a dark figure running toward the castle.

  “Did ye see that, Hawke?” asked Ethan with wide eyes, pointing in the opposite direction.

  “I canna hear ye, Ethan, and neither will I wait for ye,” came Hawke’s reply from the dark. “If ye’re no’ back at the boat when we’re ready to leave, ye can stay here on this godforsaken isle by yerself.” Hawke’s voice drifted off as he hurried away in the opposite direction.

  “I’m with ye,” said Ethan, turning to follow Hawke. But when Trapper growled lowly and took off at a run in the opposite direction, Ethan stopped once again.

  “Trapper, come here!” he shouted, but the hound didn’t listen. It was on the trail of something and kept heading in the opposite direction until Ethan could barely see it. “Bid the devil,” he grumbled, glancing back at the path Hawke had taken and then over to where his dog had gone. There was no doubt in Ethan’s mind where the animal was going. Trapper was headed right for the haunted castle. Ethan’s stomach clenched and his muscles tightened in his jaw. Then, letting out a deep breath, he turned and started his climb up the hill to the castle – the last place he ever wanted to be.

  * * *

  “Who was it, Finn?” asked Alana Chisholm, meeting her brother in the courtyard of Blackbriar Castle. She’d seen the boat dock at the shore from the tower window and sent the boy out to investigate. No one ever came to the isle, not once in the past year since they’d lived here. That is, no one but a man named Euan to see his family that he’d kept in a hut secluded from everyone else – not unlike the way she and her family lived now. Euan had been part of the smuggling ring that Diarmad now ran since Euan’s death.

  Alana and her siblings weren’t allowed to even speak to the other occupants on the isle or they’d be punished by Diarmad. Then, a few months ago, Osla and her children just up and disappeared.