Chapter 4
Thom MacCullvin closed the door, and walked over to the four-poster bed where all his belongings gathered. If anyone was to look around, he would have found little evidence that anyone stayed in this small chamber for the past few days. Shoving the items into a sack, he checked the area one last time. His eyes settled on the small window on the other side of the bed. All at once the disturbing feeling that he experienced upon waking came rushing back.
“Why am I thinking about Cristiona again?” he wondered out loud. The question perplexed him, but he couldn’t shake the uneasiness. Something told him that he needed to visit the lass. And since his instincts had never failed him, he decided that his duties at Bracken Ridge would have to wait. Besides, the enemy had yet to arrive, so if Thom wanted to call on Cristiona at Drumgaff Castle, then this was the occasion to do it. Once the war started, it might be months before he could see her again.
After making his resolve, he felt lighter. He knew that she didn’t care for gifts, but he had got into the habit of buying her a token whenever he visited her. It wasn’t often that he could call on her, although on rare occasions when he was within riding distance, he would do just that. Seeing her was like a breath of spring air. She was so innocent, so pure, and her presence reminded him that good people still existed in the world. Unfortunately when her husband Lester MacLeaburn was around, Thom’s visits were brief. But, if he assumed correctly, Lester would be journeying to the encampment at Bracken Ridge, and Cristiona would be alone at the castle. That last thought buoyed his spirits even more.
Throwing the sack over his shoulders, he made his way out from his chamber and into the courtyard. As he walked through the busy square, he met two servants who were occupied in capturing a chicken for the night’s supper. Other servants were about, completing their chores in somber silence. Not surprisingly, a cloud of fear hovered over the inhabitants as if they knew that many of their loved ones were unlikely to return once the war ended. That was the sad truth about warfare. And Scotland had already seen hundreds of battles throughout the centuries, battles that were caused by internal and external strife.
An old servant came into his view. She carried a stack of twigs on her back, the weight of the wood bending her almost to the ground. He should have let her pass, but for once he was in a good mood, and he decided to take pity on her.
“Let me take that for ye,” he said.
The old woman gawked at him but allowed him to relieve her of the heavy burden. After he dropped the wood bundle off at the kitchen storeroom, he continued to the stable to fetch his horse. Then as he made his way out of the castle, he couldn’t help but glance back. Nor could he stop himself from wondering about the dark-haired beauty that lived within. When Mairead showed up at his door earlier, he didn’t know what to make of her sudden appearance. Certainly her unexpected visit had surprised him, but it was her comeliness that took his breath away.
Looking up at the sky, he saw that by helping the servant, he had departed from the castle later than expected. He urged his steed to move faster. If he didn’t hurry, the market would close soon, and he wouldn’t be able to obtain a gift for Cristiona.
He followed the worn path that led down to the village, passing a number of peasants along the way. When he arrived at the settlement, he found the place bustling with activity. He perceived that it was difficult to maneuver around the throng, so he dismounted, and led his horse to the market square on foot.
Thom wound his way toward the merchant stalls. After a few minutes of viewing the different offerings, he was unsatisfied with what he saw. It was already late morning, and he had yet to find a suitable gift. Since he had no intentions of spending the entire day browsing, he was ready to give up his search. He started to move away when he spied a small stand that was tucked in a corner.
The sharp-eyed merchant saw him pause. Suddenly the bored look on her face fell and became a calculating one. In a matter of seconds, she took in his clothing, his horse, and assessed his worth. Eagerly leaning forward, she asked, “What do ye want tae buy?” She picked up one of the wooden boxes from her display, and lifted it up for him to see. “Perhaps this lovely trinket box will do for your sweetheart?” When she saw that he still hesitated, she pushed further. “Ye can have it for two coppers.”
Thom stepped closer and took the wooden container from the merchant. When the sun glanced off of it, it gleamed. Examining it closer, he saw it was circular, and fit into his palm. The box was made from ash wood, and was polished with oil. The lid, on the other hand, was decorated with a single pewter rose. It sat at the center while a flourish of ferns swirled to the outer edges. Opening the receptacle, he saw that the inside was lined with fine red linen. There was a simple elegance to it that would appeal to Cristiona.
“I’ll take it,” he said, pleased with the find.
Just as he handed the merchant the coins, he felt a tug at his kilt.
“Please, guidman, would ye nae like tae buy this brooch tae put inside your bonny new box?” The lad was about ten years old. His face was smeared with grime, and he looked like one of the dirty, hungry hounds that slunk around in the market square.
Thom started to shake his head, but he paused when he caught large hopeful eyes staring up at him. For the second time, a ripple of sympathy struck him. Likely whatever profit the boy made from his sales went to feed his family. In truth there was no need for Thom to purchase the brooch. He already possessed a pin, and he had no use for another.
But the lad sensed his hesitation, and dangled the piece in the air. “’Tis made from the finest iron in the land. If ye dinnae like this one, I have more,” he gestured to the half-dozen brooches that were pinned to his kilt.
“Let me see the one in your hand.”
The stripling lifted his hand higher to showcase an iron brooch. The jewel bent into a circle while its ends curled into tight swirls. Its design was simple, and despite its crudeness, it had an appealing quality to it.
“Who made it?”
“My da,” he said proudly. “Everything he makes is better than the blacksmith’s.”
“Sae your da is the blacksmith’s apprentice.”
The boy’s mouth fell open. “H — how do ye ken?”
“A lucky guess,” he said. It was unlikely that anyone outside of the blacksmith’s shop had access to the tools that could make the pin. While the brooch was nice, it wasn’t worth much. He was about to move away when a small head peeked out from around the table. The lassie had a strong resemblance to her brother, and she watched their exchange with worry and hope reflected on her pixie face.
Thom let out a sigh. As much as he wanted to leave, he couldn’t in good conscience ignore starving bairns. He dug out a silver coin from his sporran and tossed it to the lad. “I’ll take the one ye have in your hand,” he said.
The youth pushed the clasp into Thom’s palm. And then clenching the coin tightly in his fist, he let out a loud rush of air as if he never expected a stranger to be so generous or accommodating. “Thank ye, guidman,” he said before taking off.
Thom watched him grab his sister by the hand, and disappear down the alley. He started to turn away when he caught a movement in his peripheral vision. Spinning his head around, he was just in time to catch a glimpse of a maiden ducking behind one of the thatched houses. Oddly enough, there was something about her that reminded him of Griogair’s sister Mairead. But as soon as he thought about the compelling lass, he dismissed the idea. He had to be hallucinating, because it didn’t make any sense why she would be at the village. Ever since his encounter with the lass this morning, his mind kept returning to her. Griogair used to speak often about his sisters when they fostered at Clan MacRell. Truthfully Thom paid little heed to his friend, since the man sounded like any doting brother. But when Thom finally met Mairead, he had to admit that she was one of the bonniest lassies that he had ever seen. During his travels through Scotland he had met a lot of women, but Mairead MacGregon’s bea
uty outshone many of them. Hers was a striking visage that was framed by dark auburn hair. When she sat in the great hall, the fire from the hearth struck her, causing her skin and tresses to glow. Her cheekbones were high, her hazel eyes bright and brimming with intelligence. She had a small nose and lush lips that were made for kissing. But despite her allure, he knew that a relationship with Mairead was out of the question. He had no desire to tangle with any woman. His life was complicated enough.
Chapter 5
Even though it had been over an hour since Mairead visited Thom, his rejection continued to hang over her head. What was her next move? There were some women who became prisoners once they married. Would she now be joining their ranks?
She shook her head. “I willnae have it,” she said firmly.
The more she considered it, the more convinced she was that marrying Blane would solve all her problems. Yet despite having the ultimate solution, she was keenly aware that if she couldn’t get to Blane, she would find herself in an undesirable union.
Mairead picked up the looking glass that sat on the dressing table, and observed a lass with troubled hazel eyes staring back at her. Her slim face was pale, and was framed by reddish-brown tresses. Many had told her that she had a countenance that men admired, although truthfully she couldn’t perceive what they saw. To her she only possessed ordinary features. Sighing, she placed the looking glass back down on the table. She supposed that the high opinions of others were necessary. She wasn’t ignorant of the fact that women were often used as political pawns. As the chief, Rory would utilize her to advance the clan, and forge strong connections. She understood the reasons behind his actions, yet she wanted to believe that her brother wasn’t cold-hearted. Except the forthcoming alliance with Clan MacTyrnell was evidence that she might be wrong about him.
Getting up from her stool, she moved to finish packing the items that she planned to take with her on the journey. She overheard that Thom MacCullvin would leave the castle in the next morning, so she had to be ready.
A quick knock sounded at her door, and before she could respond, it crashed opened.
“Ye have tae hurry.” Kila placed a hand on her chest as she tried to catch her breath. “The messenger’s leaving.”
“That’s impossible,” she said. “I received word that Thom is tae leave at first light tomorrow.”
Kila walked over to the window and pointed. “Well ye are mistaken then.”
Setting aside the bag, she ran to the small window near her four-poster bed, and confirmed that her sister told the truth.
“I have tae go.” She turned quickly, grabbing the sack from the mattress.
Mairead raced to the courtyard. And when she got there, she scanned the near empty enclosure to search for the powerful figure. When she saw him, she felt a rush of relief. Even though his back faced her, there was no mistaking the messenger. The claymore he carried was strapped onto his broad back, while a small sack was slung over his right shoulder. He didn’t appear to be in a hurry. In fact he strolled across the courtyard as if he owned the fortress.
The castle cat made a sudden appearance, and seeing Thom, it approached him. She frowned when the messenger bent down to rub the feline. From her experience, she knew that the animal disliked being handled. However the cat seemed to enjoy the attention, and made no attempt to move away.
“What a fickle beastie,” she murmured.
Her observation became diverted when she noticed that Thom had stopped an old servant who was hunched over with a bundle of sticks on her back. The two exchanged words, and he lifted the heavy burden from the woman’s back as if it contained feathers.
“Why is he helping the servant?” she said, staring in astonishment as Thom carried the branches toward the kitchen. It was the job of the servant to collect kindling in the nearby woods, and take it to the kitchen. She had done the task for many years and went about her duties without complaint. Before this incident, Mairead wasn’t even aware that the woman was no longer fit for the job. She decided that she would have to acquire new chores for her. But then she frowned. Correction. She would have to speak to Darra, and request that the old servant be given lighter duties. As much as it pained her to remember, Mairead was no longer the person who ran the castle when her brothers were gone, although she still cared about the welfare of her people.
When Thom completed his good deed, he obtained his horse from the stable, and rode out through the castle gate. Allowing some time to pass, she began her pursuit, and entered into the village. It was risky for Mairead to go into the small town, since she often visited the market, and the villagers knew her. But she ignored the danger, since her quest was foremost on her mind. Luckily because of Thom’s height, she was able to spot him. With her arisaid covering her head, and using the shadows as her cover, she waited until he was ready to leave.
But the messenger dallied in the market square, searching for something. She was rather mystified when he stopped to purchase a trinket box and a brooch. It wasn’t that he bought a wooden receptacle from the merchant that surprised her. What puzzled her was that he purchased a brooch that he clearly didn’t need. She also couldn’t neglect the fact that he had helped the old servant earlier. It was apparent to her now that her impression of the messenger had been wrong. Who knew that behind his brooding demeanor he was a kind and generous man?
As she pondered the question, she almost neglected to notice that Thom had glanced in her direction. Her heart skipped a beat as she ducked behind the wall, hoping that he didn’t recognize her.
Seconds passed as she pressed her back against the thatched house. But when he didn’t march over to where she hid, demanding to know why she shadowed him, she felt relieved. She allowed a few more minutes to pass before she hurried after him.
Fortunately it was easy to pursue the messenger. He left clear traces in the dirt that were easy for her to decipher. Although she was never officially taught how to track, the lack of education never stopped her from learning the skill. She had quizzed her older brothers about the techniques, wearing them down with questions until they revealed all that they knew. Once she had the particulars, she put them to practical use. Whenever the clansmen went hunting, she persuaded Rory to allow her to join them. It was then that she had the opportunity to practice her new abilities. Of course she wasn’t successful in bringing game back from the hunt, but that didn’t matter. The point was that she had permission to leave the castle, and for a short period she could taste the same freedom that men experienced.
A crow cawed overhead, jerking her back to the present. As far as she could tell, Thom’s tracks were evenly spaced with no signs of stopping. He was far enough ahead of her that he would never know that she trailed after him. And eventually he would lead her to the military camps at Bracken Ridge. But still, if he happened to glance behind him, she was confident that the extensive foliage and trees would conceal her.
As she continued forth, Mairead entered through a clearing, and was immediately stopped by a river. Pebbles littered a large portion of the area in front of her. However the river itself ran downstream, rushing over varying sized rocks. In some sections, the water was black, and she knew that those were the parts where the land dipped. She stopped the horse at the edge of the river bank, observing the area with uncertainty. Just across the bank she could make out the perimeter of a pine forest. There was nowhere else Thom could have gone except to pass over to the other side. While the distance didn’t appear too great, the prospect of crossing the body of water worried her. She had never lived near a waterway, and she didn’t know how to swim. Sweeping her eyes along the river, she stopped when she noticed that the land formation changed slightly in one spot. For some reason the pebbles collected in this area, making a path that a horse could easily navigate.
Mairead ran her fingers through her thick hair, and blew a long breath from her lungs. This was it; she needed to go forward. Gathering her gown to her thighs, she urged her ride to cross the waterwa
y. While she tried not to look down, she couldn’t help but notice the powerful currents underneath her. Her grip tightened on the reins, and when her mount took its first steps, her body tensed. But then after its initial hesitation, it advanced quickly, its movements spraying the chilly water in the air. Some of the liquid splashed onto her face and arms, causing a streak of shock to zip through her body. She coiled the leather straps more tightly around her hands, and clamped her knees on the horse’s sides. The last thing she wanted was to topple over into the cold water and get swept away. But her fear was short-lived. Her mount passed steadily through the flowing river. And before she knew it, she was again on dry land.
“We made it.” Breathing a sigh of relief, she wiped the dampness from her cheeks. She then gave her horse a pat on the head, grateful that at least one of them knew how to pass through treacherous waters.
But a new worry assailed her once she was on the other side of the bank. For the past while, the messenger rode on a straight path. However his trail abruptly ended here. It was clear that he went deeper into the pine forest, but what direction did he take? If she ventured into the thicket without any clues, then there was a real chance that she would get lost, or worse. She might encounter Broken Men and outlaws. For the first time she felt incredibly helpless and alone. Even though Thom didn’t know she followed him, she was at least aware and comforted by his nearness. But what now? While it was the middle of the day, the forest was still a hazardous place. If the warnings she received as a child were true, all kinds of trouble awaited her in the dark woods. Her shoulders tightened, and she glanced nervously around her, almost expecting to spot a dozen bad men or some fae creature lurking in the bushes.
Highland Messenger (Scottish Strife Series Book 4) Page 3
