by Willa Blair
Alannah looked down to see what Abby was staring at. She hadn’t realized that she had the man’s blood all over her. She fetched clean garments from the chest. She quickly changed clothes and returned to Abby’s side, leaning over her to check her knee. She heard Abby gasp, and looked up to see what was wrong.
All the color had drained out of Abby’s face as she gazed at Alannah’s chest.
Alannah looked down at herself and saw that she had not tied the neck of her chemise, and the other woman was staring at the pendant that was dangling free.
Staring as though she’d seen a ghost.
CHAPTER 9
“Abby, what’s the matter with you?” Alannah fetched a dusty flask from a shelf and uncapped it, wrinkling her nose at the potent aroma that wafted out. She hurried back to the bed and sat at the edge, holding the flask to Abby’s lips and forcing her to take a healthy swig. Abby coughed as the fiery liquid burned its way down her throat.
“Thank you,” she gasped, her eyes stinging from the fumes. “I’m all right. My God, what is that?”
Alannah grinned. “It’s the uisge beatha, which in English means ‘water of life.’”
That was whisky? It certainly didn’t taste anything like the smooth Macallan that Ian’s family was so fond of. Abby coughed and wheezed for a moment until she was able to breathe again.
Alannah waited until she had gotten a hold of herself before asking, “Abby, why did you react that way to seeing this?”
She held up the pendant, which was a silver disk with three Celtic horses, intertwined with intricate knot work. The horses’ eyes were set with tiny red stones, and there was a slightly larger red stone in the middle of the piece.
It was exactly the same as her mother’s pendant, except for the color of the stones.
Abby hesitated for a moment before answering. “I-it’s beautiful. Can you tell me where it came from?”
Alannah indicated that Abby should move over on the bed and then she sat cross-legged facing her. Conall took the opportunity to jump up onto the bed as well, flopping down so that he was between the two women.
“My grandda had three daughters, whom he loved very much. As each of them turned sixteen, they received a pendant he’d commissioned from a silversmith in Edinburgh after they were born. He wanted his daughters to have something they could pass to their children. The eldest daughter of each was to get the pendant from her mother.
“The pendants were the same but for the color of the stones. One had purple, one had green, and one had red. The middle sister, my Aunt Catriona, had the pendant with the green stones. She married someone from another clan, against the wishes of my grandda. He had wanted her to marry Ewan’s father, but she and this other man, Duncan, met at a gathering of the clans. My mum told me that they fell in love the moment they laid eyes upon each other. She told me he was a good man, but Grandda’s mind was set, and he refused to give his approval.
“Although my auntie loved her da very much, she was completely in love with Duncan. He tried a few times to get my grandda’s permission to marry my auntie, but still my grandda refused. She told him to meet her at the edge of the village on Midsummer night, when everyone would be distracted with feasting, drinking, and dancing. He did not want to cause strife with her kin, but neither did he want to live without her, so he agreed.
“She left with him, asking my mother to tell her parents the next morning. My mother did as she wished, and by the time my grandda and his men had caught up to them, they were wed. He was furious, but could do nothing, since there might have been a child already on the way. He told her she was unwelcome to return home.
“As it happened, my auntie did get with child right away. She sent messages to my mother whenever she could, hoping that once the child was born, she would bring the bairn to her father and they would reconcile.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “My auntie had a very difficult time carrying the child, and she died giving birth.”
“And the child?” Abby whispered, afraid that she already knew the answer. Alannah wiped her eyes and sniffled. “It was a wee lassie and she lived but a moment before following her mother out of this world. When my grandda received the news, he was wild with rage and grief. He blamed her husband for Catriona’s death, and gathered his men to go after him.”
“Did they find him?”
“Nay, they did not. They were met along the way by men from the other clan. Duncan had disappeared right after her death, and his kinsmen had tracked him as far as the Fraser lands on this side of the loch. They accused my grandda of killing him to avenge his daughter. Grandda accused the other men of not preventing the marriage to begin with. My uncle was never seen again, and our two families have been feuding ever since.”
“Feuding?”
“Aye, the clans themselves are allies, so it is just the smaller factions that are feuding. They know they cannot involve the chiefs, whose wrath will be severe if the alliance is threatened. Every so often, they raid each other, stealing cattle and horses. Men have been injured and killed during some of those raids. This has been going on for over thirty years.”
Alannah paused, and looked down at her pendant, tracing the surface with slender fingers. “My parents died not long after I was given this. When I touch it, I feel closer to them somehow.”
Abby knew just how Alannah felt, as it was the same for her. “What became of the other two pendants?”
“The eldest sister, my Auntie Sorcha, moved far away. She was furious with my grandda for disowning Auntie Catriona, and she left with her husband shortly afterward. I have never met her or her family, but I assume they have her pendant.
“No one knows what became of the third pendant. It was not with Catriona’s body when they buried her. I think Duncan took it as a token to remember her by. I believe he left of his own will because he couldn’t bear to live there without her. I like to think of him finding happiness somewhere else, somewhere far from here.”
Abby’s mind was churning. She raised her hand to her throat, touching the pendant that was nestled under her chemise. Should she show it to Alannah? Abby felt Alannah’s gaze upon her and looked up.
“There is something you want to tell me, Abby. I can see it in your eyes. Just this morning, Ewan was asking me if you had told me anything. He will be kept occupied with the prisoner for awhile, but he has not forgotten about you.”
Abby looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with Alannah. She reached for the whisky flask, taking a gulp of the fiery liquid, and managed not to sputter too much as it scalded her throat. She looked at the other woman, who waited patiently for her to speak.
Abby reached into the neckline of her chemise and withdrew the pendant, wordlessly holding it out for Alannah to examine. Now it was her turn to watch Alannah’s face turn pale.
She leaned over to peer closely at Abby’s face. Abby grew uncomfortable under the weight of that intense stare, and there was a gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach.
“Abby, where did you come from? You must tell me!” When Abby hesitated, Alannah persisted. “Abby, are you Sorcha’s daughter?”
Abby thought fast. This was the perfect explanation, but she had to be careful. Sorcha and her husband hadn’t been seen in thirty years, and hopefully they wouldn’t make a sudden reappearance now.
“I-I never knew much about my mother’s family. She never spoke of them.” She thought of her own parents, whom she would never see again, and swallowed hard, closing her eyes to blink back tears. “My parents are both…dead now,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
“But your mother is Sorcha Fraser?”
Abby nodded mutely, hating to lie.
Alannah leaned forward, a thoughtful look on her face. “When I first laid eyes on you the other night, I thought you looked familiar somehow. Now, as I look at you in the sunlight, I know why. You look like my mother.”
“I do?” Abby was shocked, considering that even if she was a descendant of A
lannah’s aunt, that blood relation had been diluted by several hundred years.
“Aye, you do. It’s not readily apparent at a first glance, but as I look closely, you have the same color eyes as my mother, and your nose is like hers as well. The more I look at you, the more I see it.”
Alannah’s face lit up in a huge grin, the first real smile Abby had seen from her. Her heart leaped, for whether it was wishful thinking or not, Abby could see a resemblance to her own mother in Alannah’s smile. But then she frowned for a moment, and Abby’s heart stopped. “But where have you been living all this time?”
Shit. What would make sense? “England. Um, Northumberland.” That would explain why she didn’t speak Gaelic, wouldn’t it?
Alannah looked startled, and Abby imagined that she was wondering why anyone, especially a Scottish woman, would choose to live in England. But she quickly recovered, throwing her arms around Abby and pulling her close, the tears bursting forth from her eyes. “As much as I despise Ewan, I’m so grateful to him for bringing you to me, cousin!” Abby froze, and then hugged her back, relieved that Alannah believed her.
“My grandda will be so happy,” said Alannah with strangely little enthusiasm.
What? He was still alive? “He…He’s here? I just assumed he was dead,” Abby finished lamely, a whole new wave of panic washing over her.
“Oh, aye, he’s alive.” Alannah replied, her eyes sad. “He’s a very strong man, but a very bitter one. He lives a day’s ride from here, so we don’t see him often.”
“Why doesn’t he live in the village?”
“It’s been hard for him since Auntie Catriona died and Auntie Sorcha—your mum—left. He blames the Mackenzies, aye, but he also blames himself, and he’s been angry ever since. He tried to be a good father to my mum, but she just reminded him of everything else he’d lost, and it became unbearable for him. He comes to the village a few times a year, but that’s all.”
“How awful for him—and for you as well,” Abby said, brushing away the tears that had welled in her eyes during Alannah’s story. She felt a rush of pity for Alannah’s grandfather. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the old man’s pain, knowing that it was his own pride and anger that had torn his family apart, rendering him unable to be among his remaining family and kinsmen. And what about Alannah? She lived a life of solitude as well, and knowing she had a grandfather who couldn’t bear to look at her had to be worse than having no family at all.
“Aye, it has not been easy for any of us,” replied Alannah, her eyes distant. “But when he learns that he has a granddaughter he never knew about, I’m sure he’ll come straightaway.”
They went outside for Abby to stretch her aching leg, and then had a light meal of oatcakes and honey. After they ate, Alannah gathered her basket of medicines. “I must check on the prisoner again. I’m worried about his head injury. I’ll be back as soon as I can. While I’m gone—”
“I’ll stay inside and I won’t answer the door,” Abby interrupted, anticipating what Alannah had been about to say.
“Aye, and when I return, we have more to discuss, Cousin,” Alannah added with a smile.
After Alannah pulled the door closed behind her, Abby searched the small cottage for something to do to pass the time. She browsed the bookshelf and pulled out one at random. She settled on the bed and propped her leg up on a pillow. She patted the bed and Conall jumped up to lie beside her.
“All right, Conall. Let’s read up on Alannah’s home remedies. Maybe there’s something here that will be helpful to know.”
****
Ian awoke to agony. His head felt as though it was being split open by an axe. He heard a feeble whimpering sound and realized it had come from himself when he felt a gentle hand behind his neck and heard a soft female voice whispering in Gaelic.
“Drink this. ’Twill help ease your pain.” He felt the rim of a cup at his lips and opened his mouth. A bitter brew trickled down his throat, and he instinctively gagged.
“No, you must drink it. It has healing herbs in it. I know it tastes foul, but it will help, I promise.”
He forced himself to swallow the potion. When she eased his head back down, he gingerly opened his eyes. He was lying on his back in a dark, damp room, the only light coming from a flickering torch stuck into a ring on the wall. His hands were tied in front of him, the rope tied off to a chain secured to a ring embedded in the floor. He estimated the chain would let him walk a step or two, but no more. A young woman knelt at his side, gazing down at him with kindness and concern in her blue eyes. She appeared fuzzy, and he blinked a few times to clear his vision.
His heart stopped for a moment, for as she came into focus, he thought she looked like Abby. He blinked again. No, as bonny as she was, she clearly was not Abby. Her eyes weren’t the right color, and Abby’s hair was toffee-colored, not red.
The last thing he remembered was being surrounded by a band of Fraser men, who had jumped him the minute he’d given his name. “Where am I?”
“You’re in a Fraser village, and are being held under the orders of Ewan Fraser. Though your head will pain you for awhile, the wound doesn’t appear to be festering.”
It sure as hell felt like it was festering. “How long have I been out?” She cocked her head at him, and he realized he’d spoken in twenty-first century slang. “I mean, how long have I been here?”
“You were brought in early this morning. I came shortly after and tended to you, but you were senseless at the time. Now ’tis late afternoon. What is your name?”
“Ian Mackenzie,” he managed, surprised at the hoarseness of his voice.
The lass finished tying a clean strip of linen around his head. “I’m glad to see you’re awake, Ian Mackenzie.” She supported his head once more, tipping a cup towards his mouth. “Drink. ’Tis just water.”
He obeyed, nearly weeping in relief as the cool liquid soothed his dry mouth, taking away the bitter taste from the potion she’d given him.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice a little bit stronger. “Can you tell me why I was attacked, why I’m here?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Because you’re a Mackenzie, of course! You should have known better than to come here!”
What did she mean by that? Before he could ask, a voice yelled down to her from above, and she rolled her eyes. “I must go now, but I will return tomorrow. I will leave you the water and the torch.”
“Wait!” He needed to ask her about Abby.
“I’m sorry. I cannot. I will come back as soon as I can. In the meantime, you must rest. They will bring you food soon, and you must eat to keep up your strength.”
She began to ascend the ladder.
“Will you tell me your name at least?”
She turned. “Alannah.”
He wanted to ask her more questions, but he knew she would not answer them now. “Thank you, Alannah.”
She smiled briefly and was gone, the gate slamming down behind her.
Ian attempted to sit up, nearly crying out as the motion sent a bolt of lightning through his poor head. Trying to keep his head still, he reached down and pulled a fur over his aching body.
This wasn’t one of his movies. No one would yell “Cut!” The blood was real; he could still smell its sharp metallic odor where it stained the dirt next to his head. The pain was most definitely real, and he would give his arm for a few aspirin—or a bottle of whisky. Gritting his teeth, he slowly looked around. At least the floor was dry and there didn’t appear to be any vermin around. He supposed he should be thankful for that. But there was no way out that he could see. He closed his eyes, wondering how he would find Abby.
****
After Alannah returned from tending the prisoner, she heated up stew from the night before for their supper.
When they had finished eating and cleaned up, she sat back in her chair and gazed expectantly at Abby.
“All right, Abby. Now that one part of your tale is told, I need to hear the
rest. How did you come to be here?”
Abby sighed inwardly, knowing she couldn’t put Alannah off any longer. She had come up with a story while Alannah had been out, and she could only hope that it sounded plausible.
“I…fell in love with a man back home. We planned to marry, but before we could do so, I…I was taken.”
“Taken?”
“Yes. Another man wished to marry me, and he took me from my home one night. We rode for many nights, so many I lost count. He wanted to get me far from home so that I couldn’t escape him and find my way back. And then—”
“And then he planned to take you by force and make you marry him?”
Abby tried not to gape in surprise at the matter-of-fact tone of Alannah’s voice.
Was that a common occurrence in this time and place? Her insides twisted at the idea of lying to Alannah, but at the moment, Abby didn’t have a better explanation to offer.
She nodded mutely, letting Alannah fill in the blanks in her story.
“But how did you come to be wandering by yourself when Ewan found you?”
“On the night he planned to…seduce me, I pretended to be willing. I kept giving him wine until he fell asleep, and then I ran all night. When dawn came, I hid under a rotten log, covering myself with branches. I could hear them yelling, but I didn’t move.” She’d seen a movie where that had been done, and it seemed like a good story to tell now.
“I hid there all day. I tried to sleep so that I would be able to run once night fell. I thought I wouldn’t be able to move again, for every part of my body ached from hiding in that tiny place. I waited until after the sun set, and then I peeked out and saw that no one was there. I ran all night, and then hid again during the day. I don’t know how many days it was before Ewan and the others found me.”
“Did…did he hurt you, Abby?” Alannah stumbled over the words, leaving Abby no doubt as to what she meant.
“No, Alannah,” she quickly replied, hoping to reassure her new friend. “He kissed and groped me a few times, and it was foul, but he never went any further than that. Thank God.”
