Heart of the Highlander

by Robbins, Kate

  “Rorie?” Muren whispered.

  “I’m here, love.”

  “Mother?”

  “Aye, Muren, I am here as well.”

  “Ronan?”

  A sliver of unease crept into Rorie’s stomach.

  “I see the bishop, too, but what does it mean?” Muren asked.

  She clearly did not even register that he and Morag were present. Rorie had never witnessed this part of her headaches before. She’d had such a violent reaction and without warning that he wondered how she’d managed to keep this so well hidden up until now.

  Finally, after hours, and when the first streaks of grey crossed the sky, Muren’s body relaxed. Her eyes closed and her head fell to one side. Rorie let out a sigh of relief.

  “That was the worst I’ve ever seen her,” Morag said.

  Rorie looked up at her and noted the worry in her expression. If her affliction was getting worse, then he had to get help sooner rather than later. Even if he left this very moment, it would be days or a sennight before he could return to her. He prayed she would be well until then.

  He stood, kissed her on the forehead, and made to leave the chamber. At the door, Morag caught up to him.

  “You look determined,” she said.

  He opened the door and beckoned her to follow him. They walked down to the ship and, once there, he pulled out a purse.

  “This may not do you a lot of good here, but I must leave you with something. There’s plenty in there to ward off anyone who might happen by, though to my knowledge naught but a MacKenzie has ever landed on these shores for a long time.”

  “Where do you go?”

  “I must consult with an elder. If there is anyone who can offer aid here, ’tis her.”

  “Oh Rorie, we have brought so much turmoil into your life.”

  “No, Morag, that wee lass in there has brought life to me. I will see her healed and protected.”

  He looked away when Morag’s eyes filled with tears. Rorie left four men to guard the women and then ordered the rest to row hard to Eilean Donan. Please God, the wind would be in their favour this morn.

  Chapter Eight

  Blinking her eyes open a crack, Muren took stock of her senses. The pounding in her head had subsided a while ago, but her body had ached so much all she could do was lay there with her eyes closed finding pleasure in pain-free moments.

  She jumped when a cool cloth touched her forehead.

  “Hush, my love, ’tis your mother,” she said in a soothing voice.

  “Where is Rorie?” Muren asked.

  “No need to worry about him right now, love, you need your rest.”

  Muren opened her eyes fully and glanced around the chamber. “Has he left already?” She could not help the disappointment that had entered her heart and, no doubt, her voice.

  Morag took her hand in hers. “This was the worst I’ve seen you, love, and Rorie stayed here until the worst had passed. It was torture watching you go through this, Muren. For both of us.”

  “So, why then did he leave?”

  “He said he would go see an elder in Strathpeffer who may be able to help.”

  “An elder? But what could they do that a healer could not?”

  “He did not explain but, Muren, I must tell you that you spoke this time. You cried out in pain, and then you spoke many things this time. Do you remember anything?”

  She tried to focus, but her mind was foggy. Images floated across her mind of people she knew, but not in the way she normally saw them in her waking state. The pool. She’d looked into it this time without shutting her eyes, and had seen more than she could process.

  “Bits and pieces, maybe. I looked this time. I mean, really looked.”

  “Muren, you must never speak of this outside of this chamber and tell no one besides myself or Rorie. Do you understand?”

  Her mother’s voice contained enough urgency for Muren to heed the warning well.

  “You said I spoke. Could you make anything out?”

  Her mother frowned. “Aye, love. Not a great deal, but still too much. You spoke names and mumbled prayers a great deal.”

  Muren struggled to sit up then. “I spoke names? Like your mother? Does that mean those people will fall ill, too?”

  Muren wished now she had never heard the story. Was all of this real, or just dreams based on what was in her mind at the time her headaches started? She feared she may drive herself mad wondering. And who was this elder Rorie had gone to see? He’d known of her headaches for a long time now. What had changed to make him leave so abruptly?

  “It does not mean anything, Muren,” her mother said. Though her frown and furrowed brow made her words less convincing than likely intended. “Now, I want you to lay back and cover up. I will bring you some broth and bread. You have not eaten since yestermorn, and I am sure you must feel terrible.”

  Aye, that she did. She was broken. Like the golden eaglet at Dunrobin who tried to fly for the first time but fell to the ground instead. Sliding back down underneath the fur, Muren closed her eyes again. A calm warmth spread through her. Though she was concerned about what she had seen this time, the relief she experienced once the pain subsided was always something that gave her comfort.

  When she woke again, her mother was sitting by her side, and the light was brighter in the chamber. For a lodge, the chamber was larger than she would have expected. Clearly, Rorie’s grandfather wanted this place to be comfortable from when they returned from the sea.

  “Sit up now, love, you need something in your belly.”

  Muren struggled, but managed to sit, then accepted a bowl of steaming broth. She took a sip and enjoyed the taste of the warm liquid.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “Broth from rabbit stew I made yesterday.”

  Once a little of the broth reached her belly, Muren’s hunger reared its head with a vengeance. “May I have some more?”

  “Aye, love. I will bring in some meat with the next bowl.”

  Muren, in fact, finished off three bowls of the stew and was much improved by the time she had completed the third. Having been in bed for hours, she wanted nothing more than to find Rorie and convince him to take her to the elder with him.

  “Has the ship left the dock?”

  “Aye, love. He is long gone; do not fret yourself over him now. We are safe here, and he promised he would return as quickly as possible.”

  Muren lay back on the bed and stared at the wooden ceiling. The place did seem very well built. Not that she had travelled much, but she had a reasonable idea where Rorie was headed. By her limited estimation, he would be gone the better part of a sennight at least. Until that time, she would go mad with idleness. She sat up and threw the fur off her bare legs. The early morning chill seeped into her bones, and so she quickly spread the fur back over her legs again as she sat at the edge of the bed.

  “I pray we have lots of wood for fires,” she said.

  Morag grinned. “Aye, we have a whole forest full, and four MacKenzie clansmen who would chop it all down to please their chief’s lady.”

  The comment gave her pause. Was that what she was? Had she fully agreed to the betrothal then? Muren shook her head. “No need for an entire forest, but enough kindling to build a fire to break the chill in here might be nice. How is it you are not cold?”

  “I’ll see to it,” her mother said with a smile. “In the meantime, I’ve laid out a clean shift and gown for you over here,” she said, pointing to the wooden chest they had brought with them.

  Once the door was closed and Muren was alone, she quickly donned her shift and gown; its ties were accessible so that she could secure them herself. Her cloak was there as well, so she donned it and her soft leather slippers then left the chamber.

  Out in the main hall, she was enveloped in the aroma of cooking food and a crackling fire. Her mother busied herself with arranging items into the larder. They had not brought a large amount of food; the men would fish or hunt
for them whilst they were there. Since their party was small, Muren found before much time had passed that she was left with very little to do and so decided to explore the island a little.

  “Take these strips of cloth and tie them to the trees along your path so that you may find your way back easily.”

  Muren took the cloth strips, tucked them inside her cloak, and headed out in the direction Rorie had walked with her the day before. He had said something about a small waterfall with a pool for swimming. She could pick out rushing water and so suspected it was not far.

  As she walked along the path, she noted the peaty scent in the air. The tree covering was thick, blocking the sun. The ground was soggy, and she suspected the sun did not kiss it often.

  A short way ahead, Muren came across a small clearing with a pool and a waterfall beyond. She stopped and took in the scene. Surrounded by a crag on one side and thick trees on another, it was perfectly secluded. The sun broke through the trees here, so the clearing was not soggy and mossy, rather carpeted with lush green grass.

  The temptation was too much. Muren stepped to the water’s edge and sat with the sun warming her back and started into the pool. Its blackness suggested it was quite deep.

  Wind rustled the leaves in the trees, and the air grew thick with the scent of sweet wildflowers. Muren sat transfixed by the ripple on the water until the wind died down and the surface before her calmed, resembling smooth glass.

  Something shifted beneath the surface. A fish, no doubt. Muren smiled. She would let the clansmen know so they could come and fetch them for supper. Better yet, mayhap they would teach her how so that she may return her and try herself. Who knows how long she would be here?

  The thing in the pool swam closer to the surface now; its shape was odd for a fish.

  Muren’s breath caught in her throat as it drew closer. Grey, spindly hair surrounded a white wrinkly face. Her body froze in place; she could not move her arms or legs. Her heart pounded hard as the face came as close as possible without actually breaking the surface. Muren’s stomach coiled into a knot.

  Then it opened its eyes. Staring back at her, she recognized the face from her dreams. Did that mean she was dreaming now, too? Or had she completely slipped into insanity? Mayhap her body still lay at the lodge, and this was a very vivid dream. If God was kind, this was a dream, and she would wake now.

  Its mouth moved over noiseless words. An unseen force drew her closer to that mouth in an attempt to discern the message. A faint mumble grew until three words registered.

  Hide. Muren. Hide.

  Branches cracked from somewhere behind her, drawing her attention away from the pool. Someone was coming. Muren jumped up and ran behind a large rock on the other side of the pool and waited. Before long, two men she did not recognize broke through the trees.

  “Are you sure he said she came in this direction?”

  “Aye, that’s what he said.”

  “Well, unless she’s turned into a fish, she’s not here. Come on, let’s get back to the ship. This is a waste of our time.”

  Muren’s heart thudded in her chest. Not only did she not recognize the men, but also their plaid was common, with no distinct markings. They could be anyone from any clan. Ronan had enemies aplenty, as did Rorie. She was not fool enough to think that did not translate to her. She had no choice but to follow them and find out what she could. Please, God, her mother had managed to find a chance to hide.

  * * *

  Rorie knocked on the door to old Ada’s cottage. Nothing. He rapped a little harder the second time, then peered in the window. Just as his eyes accustomed to the darkness inside, the door swung wide.

  A tiny, frail-looking woman waved him in without saying a word. He prayed she could provide some advice, because there was certainly no way she would survive the trip to Rona to see Muren in person, and he would not risk exposing her.

  “Please sit, my lord MacKenzie,” she said in a surprisingly strong voice. “What ails you?”

  “You know who I am?”

  “Aye, my lord. I think there are few around here who do not know who you are.”

  It was reasonable enough. Though he knew who she was and where to find her, Rorie had never had need to lay eyes on the woman in his life. Like his father, he’d been fortunate to have avoided the sickness that befell so many each winter.

  “Do you know why I have come to see you then?”

  The old woman tilted her head back and croaked out a laugh. “I am a healer, my lord, not a seer. If ’tis the future you want, I suggest you seek out the lass who was grey but now green.”

  Rorie tensed, his senses rising to full alert. “What do you know about her?”

  “I know much, my lord.”

  Rorie leaned in closer. He did not condone bullying tactics, and he would tear off his own arm before laying one finger on this woman, but she needed to stop talking in riddles and tell him what she knew.

  “You will tell me everything you know. Now.”

  The woman’s eyes widened slightly. “Aye, my lord. I hope I do not offend thee by saying so, but many have overheard her screams. ’Tis not something a wee lassie can hide as much as her mother and brother would like to think so. Servants overhear, and people talk. Some say some terrible things I do not wish to repeat.”

  “What things?”

  “Nay, I fear it will anger your lordship, and I do not wish to poke at a wolf when he’s in my den.”

  Rorie drew a deep breath and sat back. She was right; pressing her or using any forcefulness with her was not his way. He’d come seeking aid, and he needed to get back on track.

  “Ada, I have come seeking your help for that very lass. It sounds to me like you already know of her affliction. Surely there is something I can do to ease her suffering.”

  “Aye, there is much. You must take me to her.”

  “ ’Tis a long journey to where she stays.”

  “And I am stronger than I look,” she said and stood. Ada removed her cloak, and what had appeared to be an old, frail body now stood straight and tall as she removed a padded pillow from her shoulders.

  “Clever lass.”

  “Come now, my lord. I may be strong, but I am still old. You will help me collect the things we will need.”

  Rorie was impressed. The woman moved about her cottage collecting vials and wrapping up dried herbs into cloth as though she had only seen twenty summers. Her deception made sense to him, and he could not help but smile when she put her fake lump back on her shoulder and then donned her cloak over it. With just a slight shift, she was back to the hobbling old woman again. The transformation complete, he opened the door and waited for her to pass through.

  “ ’Tis been many years since I’ve been on an adventure, my lord. I believe you may have breathed new life into me.”

  “If you can aid this, lass, I will give you anything your heart desires.”

  She stopped and looked at him. The lines around her eyes crinkled. “Be careful what you promise, my lord. You could not possibly know what I desire.”

  Rorie stepped over to a small carriage he had secured. He helped her step inside and saw to her comfort then mounted his horse.

  Flipping the horseman a coin, he said, “Follow me as swiftly as the carriage can manage.”

  “Aye, my lord. Will she be safe in there?”

  “Aye, she will be well, I assure you.”

  The road leading back toward Eilean Donan castle was straight and clear in very few places. While they could have covered much more terrain if they were all on horseback, there was no way Ada could have managed it. Spry or not, she was much better off in a bouncing carriage than atop a horse trying to hold on.

  After a full day’s ride, they rode over the bridge at Eilean Donan just as the sun was setting. Rorie saw to Ada’s comfort then went to the great hall to seek out Ewen.

  “What news of Sutherland?”

  “Not much movement so far. Though rumours have spread that the king’
s army amasses at Stirling. Could be nothing but, knowing that lot, it’s always something to watch.”

  “Aye, I agree.”

  “Why do you bring the healer here?”

  “I bring her to Rona. Muren’s headaches have gotten worse. She may be in hiding for a long time, and I will not sit by and watch her suffer.”

  “She would not need to be in hiding if she would accept you and take the vows.”

  “Do not start with me, Ewen.”

  “I do not start anything. Merely stating a fact. She accepts your protection, yet will not accept that which you give freely and without any demands of her. Do you not see the potential for manipulation?”

  Rorie grabbed Ewen by his tunic. The man was only smaller by a fraction, and they’d had many scraps in their youth. If Rorie were to take him on, there would be serious damage done to both of them. He did not wish to quarrel with his brother, but he would not hear Muren’s good name sullied either.

  “You will not say a foul word about her in my presence or otherwise. Do you understand?”

  “Aye, I understand. And I pray to God every night I never let a woman get under my skin the way this lass has gotten under yours. She has you so wound up in her, you cannot see anything else around you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the fact that we potentially have a large army heading our way, and you are more concerned about a minor affliction in a woman who refuses to marry you though you have every right to press the matter.”

  “I will not force her.”

  “Nay you will not, and I fear we will all burn in our beds once the army arrives.”

  “Are you afraid, Ewen?”

  “No. But we all should be preparing for battle, not collecting dried herbs for metheglin.”

  Ewen made much sense, and Rorie had no intention of leaving Eilean Donan while under attack. But he needed to get Ada to Rona. With Muren out of harm’s way and under her care, he could focus on whatever lay ahead with Sutherland and the king.