by Mary Morgan
Wiping her hands on her smock, Larena stepped to the hearth. “Did ye require something, Lady Erina?”
“I wish to break my fast in here, if ye have nae objections.”
The woman’s eyes grew round. “Your brother will not be pleased.”
“Then we will not tell him, shall we?” Smiling, Erina moved toward her. “Please let me prepare my own meal. Show me what I can have to eat. I have nae desire to cut into anything ye are preparing for a later meal. Besides, ye are busy with your soup.”
“Stew,” corrected Larena and gestured toward the far end of the table. “There is an onion tart, some bread and cheese, along with berries.”
“Perfect.” Erina grabbed a wooden plate from the shelf and took a seat. Slicing the bread and cheese, she reached for a small pot of honey and put a generous amount on her bread. “Where did ye find the berries?” she asked, plucking one into her mouth.
Chuckling, the woman replied, “Didn’t. I thought I had scoured the area and taken all of them, but the MacGregor brought them to me, saying he understood they were my favorite.”
“Which MacGregor?” Though, Erina believed she already knew the answer.
Larena winked. “Och, the tall, dark, and handsome one.”
“Rory.”
Larena stepped back to the table and scooped a portion of vegetables into her hands. Making her way to the pot over the flames, she dumped them inside. “So he has charmed ye, too?”
“Nae,” she lied and reached for a ewer of ale and poured some into a cup. She did not want to discuss the man’s charms with another woman. Erina had fought to banish him from her mind, especially after he had been absent from the hall for the past few days.
After arching a brow at Erina in disbelief, the woman went back to her work.
While eating her meal in silence, Erina relished the peacefulness in the kitchens and began to devise a plan. If everyone was gone for most of the day, perhaps she could journey to her cottage and back without anyone noticing her absence. A few hours there and back? What would be the harm? If Betty didn’t show, she could always leave it tucked away with a note for the woman.
Finishing the last of her meal, she brushed her hands off and stood. She pointed to the rosemary strewn about on the table. “Are ye using the herb for the bread?” she asked one of the women.
“Aye, a few will be added. And some will go into a conserve for my husband.”
“With sugar?” Erina leaned forward to inspect the process.
The woman chuckled. “’Tis the only way I can get him to take a tonic.”
“Ahh…does he suffer from pains in his chest?” Erina picked up a sprig and twirled it between her fingers.
“Aye.”
“Try adding honey, instead of sugar. Or mix some with his wine,” suggested Erina, making her way out of the kitchens.
“Thank ye kindly.”
Mairi emerged carrying several baskets of onions, turnips, and cabbages. Startled, she almost dropped her items. “Did ye require something, Lady Erina?”
“Nae, nae. Here let me help.” Taking one of the heavy baskets, she moved back inside to another worktable.
The girl dumped the contents of her basket onto the table. “Do ye have it?” she muttered, glancing over her shoulder at Larena.
Brushing the dirt from one of the onions, Erina replied softly, “In my chamber. I have placed your charm inside the box on my table. Leave what payment ye deem ye can manage. Secure the charm someplace on your body and keep it there for the next three days.”
Biting her lower lip, Mairi leaned near. “And afterwards?”
“Bury the contents and pouch by a yew tree.”
She gave a curt nod and went to her task.
Erina steadily made her way out of the kitchens. Walking along the narrow passageway, she heard footsteps and turned around. “Is something wrong, Mairi?”
The woman grasped her hand. “Thank ye. She placed a coin inside her hand. ’Tis all I can give ye.”
“Is this all ye have?”
“Aye…bu…but I will promise to pay ye more later,” Mairi stammered.
Erina was not about to take the last bit of coin from her. Reaching for her hand, she placed the coin inside and closed her fingers over the item. “Dinnae worry. Let me do this one for ye.”
Her eyes lit with delight. “Och, Lady Erina, I promise to repay ye one day.”
“I pray ye find love, Mairi.”
“I ken I will with your charm.” Smiling, she moved away.
After retrieving her cloak, gloves, and a small pouch from her chamber, Erina hurriedly left the castle. Glancing upward, white puffy clouds dotted the blue sky. The air was brisk, but a perfect day to accomplish her task. When she entered the stables, she froze.
“Good morn, sister,” greeted Graham as tended to his horse. He dropped the brush on a nearby bench, and surveyed her clothing. “Are ye going somewhere?”
Erina’s hands tightened around her pouch. “I must return to my cottage for a few hours.”
Graham narrowed his eyes. “And why am I finding this out now? Did ye leave a note or message with anyone?” He waved a hand in the air. “Or were ye thinking of sneaking out?”
She lifted her chin in defiance. “The latter.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose in obvious frustration. “Ye could have asked me, Erina.”
“Truly? And ye would have let me go, aye?”
Retrieving a cloth, he replied, “Nae.”
“Can ye now see my predicament?” She softened her tone and stepped near him. “Before ye came to my aid in the woods, I was returning from a friend’s home. She had asked me for some herbs for a special day. I told her to seek me out before the full moon. I’m only dropping them off at my cottage, though I might stay in hopes of seeing her.”
Graham wiped a hand over his brow. “Can ye not wait until Darren returns? The woods are not safe. Or take Catherine with ye and one guard?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Did ye not hear me, Graham? The full moon is tomorrow. I cannae wait another day. Besides, Catherine is out riding and I do not ken when she will return.”
“Sweet Mother Mary! Do ye wish to draw attention to yourself? Many fear those who practice the dark arts.”
“And ye ken I am not one of those.” Irritation laced her words.
“Aye, Erina, but these are troubling times.”
Rory entered the stables and nodded to Graham in passing. Erina saw her brother’s eyes alight, and before he uttered a word, she shook her head. “Nae. I will not have him escort me. Give me another guard.”
Graham folded his arms over his chest. “Did I mention the MacGregor? But now that ye have, I consider it a fine idea.”
Halting beside one of the horse’s stables, Rory glanced over his shoulder. “Excuse me?” He turned fully toward them and arched a dark brow.
Her brother gestured to her. “Erina has an urgent package that must be delivered to a friend. Would ye be so kind as to escort her to her cottage for the day? ’Tis less than an hour’s ride to her home.”
Nae! Her chest constricted. “I dinnae reason why I cannot go by myself. Furthermore, Rory might be needed by his laird. Or ye can ask another guard. Or…or one of the women. Aye, that would be most helpful.”
“Nonsense. Ewan has gone hunting with some of his men. He will not be returning until late,” argued Graham. Giving a pat to his horse, he added, “I would be most grateful for the assistance, Rory.”
“I will go and search for Brother Michael. Surely we have much to catch up on regarding herbs and such,” she protested.
“Nae, he is gone until evening. I deem he went in search of mushrooms,” stated Graham. “Ye can have the MacGregor escort ye.”
Rory’s hands were fisted by his sides, and she noted the conflict within his gaze. He wanted nothing to do with her, and she hated her brother for putting him in this situation. It was enough for Erina to change her mind, and regret filled her at the loss of
more coins. “Dinnae worry, I won’t trouble ye. My friend will have to wait until next month.”
Making her way to leave, Rory’s words made her pause.
“I would consider it an honor to escort Lady Erina.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Love and laughter will bind the heart. Whereas, hate and tears can cement the pain within the soul.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
Not one word came forth from Erina’s luscious lips as they traveled through the dense forest. Gone was the woman Rory once knew and adored. She no longer laughed in his presence or chatted incessantly about the land and animals—from a bird flitting by to a rabbit skittering past.
He had done this to Erina. And Rory hated himself.
Every waking moment was spent trying to crush his feelings for her. It was a continual battle—one that left him weak and frustrated at the end of the day. He kept his body and mind busy during the daylight with as many tasks that he could possibly do, but the nights left him bitter and longing to have her by his side.
Rory should have fled eons ago. But he had a mission to oversee. And he was determined to right the injustice of Erina’s death. He continued to fight the shadows, but with each new dawn, a piece of his memory of their time together slipped away. Undeniably, there was something wrong. Sifting through all of his training and knowledge did not bring forth anything he could use.
Light splintered through the canopy of trees above them as they moved parallel to the stream. Usually the music of nature was a soothing balm for him, but Rory could no longer stand the silence between them.
“’Tis a fine autumn day. No threat of rain or snow,” he mentioned, lifting his hand upward.
Erina looked startled, as if she had been in deep thought. She ducked under a heavy pine limb. “Aye,” she uttered softly.
He maneuvered his horse around a bend in the path. “’Tis my favorite time of year.”
“I prefer the spring,” she declared, keeping her focus ahead.
“Ahh…one of rebirth. The land awakens once again.”
She stole a glance at Rory. “A rare observation.”
“Why?”
Turning her horse down a narrow path to the river, she replied, “Because men pay nae heed to the changes of the land. Unless they are farmers or have cattle.”
“Yet, I am neither.”
The road opened up, and Rory could see Erina’s cottage in the distance. Fragmented memories of their time together flashed within his mind.
She halted her horse and shielded her eyes. “And what are ye?”
His mouth twitched in humor, and it was his turn to shield himself from her intense stare. “A man on a journey.”
“Hmm…one who never stays long in any place?”
Rory snapped his gaze to hers. She had read him exactly, slicing through to reveal the Fae. She studied him from pale blue eyes and thick lashes. Waiting to see if she was correct in her observation. When the corner of her mouth lifted slightly, Rory knew she had guessed correctly.
He glanced upward. “There has been nae reason.” Returning his attention to her, he added, “Yet.”
Erina turned away. “My cottage is across the stream. We can cross farther along the path.”
As the door to their conversation ended, Rory pursed his lips and watched as she nudged her horse onward. At least she was speaking to him. Honestly, what did he expect? “More,” he uttered softly, giving a pat to his horse.
When they arrived at the cottage, Erina quickly dismounted and reached for her satchel. She didn’t bother asking Rory if he wanted to come inside her home. No. She simply walked inside and closed the door behind her.
Grabbing the reins of her horse, he led both animals to a small pasture in the back. After retrieving a bucket, he went and filled it with water from the well. Approaching the horses, he let hers drink first, before letting the other take his fill. Dumping out the rest, Rory placed the bucket back near the well and went to sit beneath an elm tree.
As he stretched out his legs, he glanced around the area as if seeing it for the first time. Her place was a simple stone cottage, but the beauty of the land took its hold within the crevices. Vines of ivy snaked upward, framing the windows. A variety of flowers on both sides of the entrance greeted any visitor. The path was a mix of gravel and thyme, weaving a pattern Rory found intriguing. He knew her garden faced south toward the stream, but that’s where his memory ended.
He no longer fought to retrieve the lost images. Instead, Rory forged ahead. He would make new memories with Erina. When the time came, he would see her happy and leave. Regardless of his depth of emotions for her, he had to see her on another path. Once again, the shadows teased and ridiculed him. Placing the heel of his palms over his eyes, Rory groaned. It was as if he was doing battle with two different men, and he grew weary of the fight.
“I have brought ye some food and drink,” offered Erina. “’Tis from the kitchens at Kileburn, since I have none here for ye.”
Rory lifted his head. The gentle breeze blew tendrils of hair free from the braided mass around her head. “A kind gesture and welcomed.”
Erina bent down next to him and handed him a plate. “Eat the food first.” Placing a mug alongside him, she added, “The drink is a healing brew to help with the headaches.”
He smiled and started to reach for her hand, but Erina quickly stood. Clenching his fist, he responded, “Thank ye, but I can assure ye, there is no more pain from my injury.”
“Then why do ye scowl and touch your head?”
What could he possibly say to her? That he was conflicted every waking moment? Just being in her company soothed and pained his heart and soul at the same time. “I am dealing with a dilemma which has no solution. At least none that I favor.”
She bit her lower lip. “Would it help to let another listen?”
Her generosity and kindness undid him. “Not at present.”
She started forward and then hesitated. “There is a stone boulder around the back of the cottage which overlooks the garden and stream. Ye might be more comfortable there. I find it a place of solace when I have troubles on my mind.”
He angled his head toward her. “I am enjoying the view from here.”
She laughed, and Rory found the sound delightful. “’Tis also a favorite spot for my dog, Thane. At least when he’s not keeping a watchful eye on my sheep.”
“A wise animal.” Rory picked up one of the small pastries and sniffed the contents.
“Aye, there is nae meat inside. I do remember the conversation,” clarified Erina as she made her way back to the cottage.
Rory glanced at her retreating form, marveling at the woman. He stuffed the entire contents into his mouth, relishing the intense flavors of the vegetables and spices. After finishing the other two, he licked his fingers. Reaching for the mug, he quickly downed the contents of the cool liquid mixed with herbs. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Rory closed his eyes and let the meal and land help ease his mind.
Hours passed without any sign of Erina’s friend, and Rory grew concerned. He had no wish to travel in the dark. If this friend did not present herself soon, he must urge Erina to leave. Standing slowly, Rory brushed the leaves and dirt from his plaid and strode toward the cottage.
Knocking softly, he called out, “Erina?”
When she didn’t answer, he knocked harder and waited. Frowning, Rory opened the door and glanced inside. “Erina? Are ye all right?” He steadily made his way to her small kitchen. Glancing inside, he noted her satchel on the table, but no indication of the lass. Checking her storeroom, Rory inhaled the fragrant herbs drying on pegs along one side of the wall. A candle sputtered in its holder on a worktable. Waving his hand outward, he extinguished the flame.
There was only one possibility left. As he cautiously entered her bedroom, Rory paused at the entrance. Leaning against the frame, he gazed at her sleeping form. One arm was draped over her forehead, and the other flung out
to the side. A light breeze wafted inside from the open window. He did not have the heart to wake her. She mumbled a word and turned on her side. Desire rolled through him, and Rory stepped away from the room.
Walking to the entrance of her cottage, he clasped his hands behind his back and let his sight roam the land. Why did she tempt him beyond reason? To offer the light of happiness, when none should tease him? The lure to stray outside his training and warrior skills was a heady potion. Erina had no idea the power she held over him.
Rory had not understood his love for Erina the first time, nor did he comprehend its appeal this second time. And truth be told, he no longer cared. His memories were now fading of their first time together. Each time he tried to recall a fragment, Rory had to endure agonizing pain. Closing the door on the past seemed to be the only solution. The Fates had decreed another path.
A falcon made lazy circles above the trees, and Rory watched its flight. The bird flew with fluid precision—dipping and swaying with the wind. Stepping outside, Rory held his arm outward and waited.
Within moments, the falcon dove and landed on his arm. As he uttered soothing words of greeting, Rory gently stroked the bird’s breast with the back of his two fingers. “I am in need of a favor, my friend.”
The falcon eyed him with scrutiny.
“Can ye search for any lone female travelers? I would be most appreciative.”
Sensing Erina’s presence behind him, Rory continued to speak to the bird in his ancient language. Rory lifted his arm higher, and the falcon flew off toward the south. He fisted his hands on his hips and waited.
“That was amazing. How did ye command the bird? And what language were ye speaking?” Stepping alongside him, Erina tilted her head to the side as if assessing Rory’s worth.
He shrugged. “’Tis the old speech of my people.”
“From what land? Would ye care to share more?”
“Why?”
“Are ye always so stubborn?” Erina folded her arms over her chest and lifted her gaze to the sky.
Rory barked out in laughter. “My family would concur.”
