by Willa Blair
Ewan didn’t know what to make of Mackenzie. He seemed to be a good man, and his story was believable. He wanted to trust him, to believe that the thirty-year feud could finally be ended. He was tired of it. He hoped his messenger would return with the good news that the Mackenzies had agreed to a meeting, but it would likely be four days before he had any news. It was a long time to wait.
CHAPTER 13
Laura cleaned up after lunch while Duncan went for a ride to clear his head. It had been two days since Ian had vanished into the mist. Robbie was beside himself, his normally twinkling green eyes dull, his face pale, his movements as mechanical as those of a B-movie zombie. He had barely uttered a single word since the day before. Right now he was sitting on the porch swing, staring at nothing, his shoulders slumped.
The sudden ringing of the phone startled her. Maybe it was news of Ian? No, it couldn’t be; it was too soon. “Hello?”
“Laura? It’s Alistair MacNab. I was wondering if you and Duncan would be home for awhile. I have something I need to talk to you about.”
She told him to come right over and then went out to the porch.
“Robbie?” The glassy eyes barely flickered in her direction. “MacNab is on his way here. He has something he needs to talk to us about. I’m going to find your father.”
She breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded his head in response. She laid a hand on his shoulder and then ran to the barn. One of the grooms told Laura he’d seen Duncan ride out a few minutes earlier, so she quickly saddled Rhiannon and rode after him.
It didn’t take her long to find her husband. He always rode to the same spot when he needed to think, and after more than thirty years of marriage, she knew him better than he knew himself. When she came to the top of a small hill, she could see him just ahead, sitting tall in the saddle on Wee Angus, gazing out over the rolling green fields to the waters of the Moray Firth, sparkling in the morning sunshine. She rode up alongside him, and though he didn’t turn his head or speak, she knew that he knew she was there. He reached out his hand to her and she took it, loving, as always, the feel of his strong hand enveloping hers in its warmth.
“Duncan? MacNab just called.”
He looked at her in surprise. “What did he say? Has he heard anything?”
“He’s on his way here. He said he needed to speak with us.”
“Well, I guess we should be headin’ back then. Laura?”
“Yes, mo cridhe?”
“Did we do the right thing all these years by not telling them about where I came from? Will they ever forgive me?” He looked at her then, and Laura felt a pang in her heart at seeing the anguish in his vivid green eyes.
“I believe with all my heart that we did the right thing, Duncan. They barely believed your tale, and that’s with Abby disappearing from right before Ian’s eyes. They needed to hear it at the right moment, and so they did. And of course they will forgive you, my love. How could they not? Your children love you so very much. As does their mother.”
Duncan smiled in relief at her words, love for her radiating from his green eyes. He kissed her hand and then her lips, and then they wheeled their horses around and galloped back to the stable.
By the time they got back to the farm, MacNab was standing by the paddock fence, admiring the horses. He had a parcel under his arm. They sat down in the parlor with tea, Robbie finally stirring himself to join them.
“So, what brings you here, MacNab?” Duncan wasted no time with pleasantries.
“You know how I collect historical artifacts and the like?”
“Aye, of course.”
“Well I had acquired an item a few days ago, and hadn’t had a chance to look at it until now. It’s a journal. When I started to read it this morning, I knew you needed to see it.”
Duncan had never seen his old friend look so worried before. “Well? Out with it, man. What did you find?”
MacNab fidgeted, obviously not looking forward to what he was about to say. “I know you told Ian to identify himself as a Mackenzie to anyone he ran into on this side of the loch.”
“Aye; the clans were allies. What’s the problem?”
“The journal I acquired is that of one Kenneth Mackenzie. The name is familiar to you, aye?”
“Aye, he was my uncle.”
MacNab took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Well, laddie, when you disappeared, your kinsmen rode out the next day to search for you. They tracked you around the loch to Fraser lands, where they lost your trail. They were met by Andrew Fraser and his men, and they drew their weapons on him.”
“Catriona’s father? Why did they challenge him?”
“Before they could state their purpose for bein’ there, Fraser accused you of killing his daughter. Your kin accused Fraser of murderin’ you, which he obviously denied. Duncan, they didn’t believe him, and it started a feud.”
Duncan felt a gnawing sensation deep in his belly. “A feud? How was it resolved?”
MacNab glanced from Laura to Duncan, and there was worry in his eyes. “It wasn’t resolved, Duncan, at least not by the end of this journal.”
Duncan felt as though his guts were being ripped out. “What?” he whispered. Laura took his hand, and he held onto her for dear life. Robbie’s eyes, so lifeless only moments earlier, suddenly flared with emotion, and his big hands clenched the table.
“Aye. It was confined to just your two families. They didn’t want to risk the wrath of the clan chiefs, and therefore didn’t involve them. If they caused the ruin of the alliance between the two clans over a matter for which there existed no proof of any wrongdoing, there would have been hell to pay.”
“What do you mean by feuding? Were they just slaughterin’ each other?” asked Robbie, his voice trembling.
“Nay, laddie, it wasn’t quite as bad as that. Mostly raids on each other for cattle and horses. But there were skirmishes and there was mischief, and as you might expect, they often resulted in injuries and deaths. The last entries were made in 1595, when Kenneth knew his death was near. He wrote that he ordered his successors to continue the feud until such time that the Frasers admitted the truth of what they’d done to Duncan.”
Duncan closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. “So I’ve sent my son into lands that are held by enemies, not allies. My God, what have I done?” He looked up in anguish. “Why didn’t I ever see any of this written anywhere? I looked in history books when I first got here, and even on the internet in recent years. I never saw anything about a feud.”
“Nay, lad, you probably wouldn’t have found anything.” MacNab’s voice was kind. “Most local records were lost or destroyed after Culloden, during the Highland Clearances. As you know, many people were evicted and forced to emigrate, either to other lands in Scotland, or to the Colonies. The smaller clan factions were relatively unimportant, and there wouldn’t have been much mention of them in the historical accounts that survived the Clearances.”
Robbie got up from his chair and began to pace back and forth, his back rigid with anger. “So my brother is riding to his doom. For all we know, he could be dead already.” He ignored his mother’s gasp of dismay. “And Abby. Who knows what’s become of her? And we’re sitting here, having tea and being utterly useless.”
“Sit down, lad,” MacNab said quietly. “I wasn’t done with my tale.” All eyes turned to him, including Robbie’s.
MacNab glanced pointedly at Robbie’s empty chair, and with an angry huff, Robbie dropped his big body into the chair and glared sullenly at the old man. “Well? I’m sitting. So what else did you want to say?”
“There is still hope that all will be well.”
“What do you mean?” Duncan raised his head from his hands.
“I think the lass has Sorcha Fraser’s pendant.”
Once more, Duncan’s stomach seemed to drop to the floor. “What did you just say?”
MacNab stared intently at Duncan. “I think Abby has Sorcha’s pendant. When
she and Ian stopped at my house before their ride the other day, she leaned over to pick something up, and it fell out of the neckline of her shirt. I caught a glimpse of the horses and purple stones. It all makes sense.”
“What the bloody hell are you talkin’ about, MacNab? What pendant? Who’s Sorcha? Enough of your cryptic bullshit! This is not a joke!” There was no sign of the usually easy-going Robbie in the furious man before them.
“No, it isn’t a joke, lad,” said MacNab quietly. “Abby vanished by the loch, aye? But when you three stood in that very spot to look for her, there was no mist, and you didn’t vanish. And the next day when you tried to follow Ian, you could not.”
“Aye, thanks for reminding me how useless I am,” Robbie snarled.
Duncan threw up his hands in exasperation. It was like dealing with a fourteen-year-old. “Robbie, that’s enough! Let Mac finish what he’s tryin’ to say. Go on, Mac.”
“Duncan, did Ian have any of your old things with him?”
“Aye, he did. He had my old dirk, my saddle and gear.”
“Right. Robbie, what were you carryin’, lad? Did you have anything from the past with you?”
“No,” muttered Robbie. “Just my own things.”
“Aye, I thought so,” replied MacNab. “In order to go through the portal, I think you need to have an item from the time you’re tryin’ to get to. Abby’s wearin’ that pendant; that’s how she was able to go through the mist.”
“But how is that possible?” asked Duncan. “How the hell did she get it? Oh my God,” he said, sinking down into a chair.
“What is it, Duncan?” Laura gazed at him with concern. “Are you all right?”
“I just remembered something. When I first met Abby all those years ago, she reminded me of someone. It was so impossible that I convinced myself I was seein’ things.”
“And who would that be?” asked MacNab.
“Catriona. There was something in the way the sunlight hit her face that reminded me of Catriona. And her sisters as well—they all closely resembled each other. Is it possible, Mac?”
“Is what possible? That Abby is a descendant of one of Catriona’s sisters? More than possible, I’d say.”
“Mac, why in the hell didn’t you tell me about seein’ Abby’s pendant before?”
“I forgot about it until I read Kenneth’s journal and started puttin’ things together in my head.” He glanced at the clock. “I have to go now. I’ll leave the journal with you, and I’ll do some more research. I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything.”
MacNab got to his feet and bid goodbye to Laura and Robbie.
Duncan walked him out. “So, you really think that Abby is Sorcha’s descendant?”
“Aye. I think there are things goin’ on here that are out of your control, my friend. You must let them happen as they will.”
They shook hands and MacNab left. Duncan returned to the sitting room, where his wife and oldest son still sat.
“What the hell was MacNab talkin’ about, Da?”
Duncan sat down next to his wife, who laid her hand on his thigh and her head on his shoulder.
“Andrew Fraser had three pendants made, one for each of his daughters…”
****
After Duncan finished the tale of the pendants, Robbie went out for a ride, claiming he needed time to think. Duncan went up to the bedroom and rummaged through the nightstand drawer, withdrawing an object wrapped in a ragged piece of tartan wool. He unwrapped it to reveal a silver pendant with three intertwined Celtic horses. Each horse had a tiny green gem for its eye, and there was a larger green stone set in the middle. He touched it reverently.
“Catriona, it’s been many years since I’ve spoken to you. I hope you forgive me for that. I wanted to ask you to watch over my son Ian, as well as Abby, the lass he loves more than anything, that he went across time to find…” His voice broke. “Please keep them safe and help them return to us.” He carefully rewrapped the pendant and replaced it in the drawer.
He felt his wife’s hand on his shoulder, and turned into her loving embrace. He had felt her presence in the room, and had known that she would not object to his prayer. He buried his face in his wife’s hair, silent tears streaming from his eyes.
After some time, Duncan raised anguished eyes to look at Laura, pulling her onto his lap and enfolding her in his strong embrace.
“Oh Laura, what kind of father am I? I let him go without knowing what he was walking into. How can you even look at me?”
Laura reached up, placing one gentle hand on either side of her husband’s face and turning his head to look deeply into his eyes. “Duncan, you mustn’t blame yourself. There was no time to do any real research, and you wouldn’t have found anything anyway. I’m afraid for him, and for Abby too. But the pain in my heart eases when I think of how wonderful and strong our son is. You’ve spent his whole life unconsciously preparing him for this. He is a skilled swordsman. He rides as though he was born on horseback, and he’s clever. And there is another thing as well.”
At Duncan’s questioning look, she smiled, glad to see that he was listening to her words. “He’s our flesh and blood, Duncan. We’d know in our hearts if something terrible has happened to him. And if he and Abby don’t return to us soon, well, we know where the portal is.”
“Aye, I guess we do. I walked away from that life without lookin’ back, and I’ve never regretted it. But I would go back in a heartbeat if my son needed me.”
“I know you would. That’s one of the reasons I love you so much. You would do anything for your children.”
Duncan cocked a black eyebrow at his wife. “One of the reasons? And what would the others be?”
She smiled then, and kissed him, just the way she had for the past three decades, and he responded as he always had. But as he wrapped his arms around Laura, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of horrors his son and Abby were facing at that very moment.
CHAPTER 14
Abby lay on one side of the bed, staring up at the rafters. Alannah was fast asleep on the other side of the bed, and Conall lay between them as he had since the day after Abby had arrived. The cottage was silent but for Alannah’s breathing, and although Abby was utterly exhausted, she could not sleep.
After Ewan had granted permission for Abby and Ian to wander around the village under guard, the first thing he’d done was bathe in the river and shave his scruffy beard. Ewan loaned him some clothes while Alannah and Abby laundered his grungy shirt and plaid. They ate a big meal in the hall and took the horses out for a ride through the field. Ewan’s men rode alongside them, and so they weren’t free to talk about anything important. Ewan insisted they dine in the hall again for the evening meal, where he introduced them to the rest of the village, making it a point to mention that although Ian was a Mackenzie, he was perhaps the key to ending the feud and should be treated with respect.
After dinner, Ian was escorted to the cottage Abby had slept in the night before, and she and Alannah returned to Alannah’s cottage. She knew she needed to sleep. She hadn’t slept much the night before, and she needed to have her wits about her when Andrew Fraser arrived tomorrow.
But her mind was racing. There was so much she needed to say to Ian, things that should have been said four years ago and hadn’t been. She didn’t want to let any more time go by with this shadow hanging over their heads. Every time she closed her eyes, she was taunted by an image of Ian being dragged away from her in chains, never to be seen again.
It was no use. Abby slipped out of bed and dressed silently in the ray of moonlight shining in through a gap in the hide covering the window. She tied a skirt over the underdress she had worn to bed and found the slippers she’d kicked off earlier. She grabbed Alannah’s cloak from where it hung on a peg by the door and reached for the door handle.
A noise from the bed had her looking over her shoulder to see Conall watching her, his amber eyes reflecting the moonlight. He made no move to get up,
but he looked…disappointed in her. Get a grip, Abby. He’s a wolf. How can he be disappointed in you? Still, she realized that if Alannah woke up and saw that she wasn’t there, she might worry.
Abby looked around the small cottage for some way of leaving a note. She had a moment of inspiration, and scooped up a handful of ash from the hearth. Standing by the window so she could see, she dipped her fingertip in the ash and scrawled a note on a scrap of linen: Went to see Ian. Back soon. She left it on her pillow and slipped out the door. The moon was bright enough that she wouldn’t need a torch to find her way.
Ian had brought Bonny with him through the mist, and Ewan let her take the mare back to Alannah’s house. The horse was tethered in the lean-to next to Alannah’s mare, and she whickered a greeting when Abby untied the rope. Abby led Bonny over to the fence and climbed onto her back.
Abby was afraid to go faster than a walk through the quiet village. She did not want to attract any attention. Nor did she want to risk tumbling off the horse’s bare back. After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the main part of the village. She left Bonny in the barn and tiptoed among the dark cottages until she reached the tiny one she’d been in the night before.
The guard was dozing on a bench beside the door. Abby crept forward, praying that he wouldn’t hear her. She stood there for a few moments, trying to work up the nerve to open the door. Had the door creaked last night? She couldn’t remember, and she knew she’d be mortified if she was caught sneaking in. Well better for you to get caught sneaking in than for Ian to get caught sneaking out. You made it this far, just go inside already!
Abby held her breath and pushed the door open, willing it to be silent. As soon as the opening was wide enough, she slipped inside and pushed it closed behind her. She closed her eyes and continued to hold her breath, straining to hear if her presence alerted the guard. But all was silent.
Cautiously, she opened her eyes. The remnants of a fire smoldered in the hearth, casting a small amount of flickering light about the small room. She looked toward the bed and gasped.
