Celtic Blizzard

by Ria Cantrell

  Knowing that Sinead had only recently discovered her ability to walk through time, Morag nodded and said, “Ye’ just remember that, lass, for there will come a time that ye’ will have to reckon with yer’ gifts.”

  “You mean because I fell through some sort of portal and landed here?”

  “Lass, people dunna’ just fall through an open doorway. It is a gift granted by the Ancients. Ye’ will come to understand it in time.”

  “I suppose, but perhaps it was just a fluke. Maybe it isn’t a gift like yours and maybe it just happened the one time.”

  “Mayhap, for I ne’er met another who could do what I have done. Well, then, back to some thoughts on Jamie. I tell ye’ these things so ye’ will understand him and nay judge him so harshly.”

  “I haven’t judged him.”

  “Nay? Have ye’ not?”

  Sinead looked down at her mug of cooling cider and she murmured, “I suppose, I have judged him a little. Go on. I do want to know more about him.”

  “Good, lass. I want ye’ to know more about him, too. So, he carries another burden and this one is the most terrible of all. I believe t’is why he does nay wish to settle down. Ye’ met his brother Ruiri, aye?”

  “Aye…er, I mean yes.” Jeez, I’m starting to answer like a Highlander.

  “Did ye’ notice anything about the man?”

  “He’s very quiet in a sort of sullen way. He’s a bit scary, actually. I mean all three of the brothers that I met are handsome men, but despite his good looks, the one you mentioned, Ruiri, is it? He seemed sad to the point of angry. I don’t think he spoke three words to me, but it was definitely not hard to miss. He wears it like a coat.”

  “Hmmm, aye, that he does. Ruiri’s betrothed was killed by enemies of the clan some years ago.”

  “Oh my God, please tell me it wasn’t by the MacDougals.”

  “Nay, lass. Ruiri was only a young man, and they were on their way to their wedding when the Campbell set upon them. His sweet lass, Caitlyn, was caught in the fray and though Ruiri tried to protect her, she was lost that day. Ruiri does nay speak of it. He will nay even say her name. And though he does nay know that I know, the lass was carryin’ their child. I know because she came to me to help her with the sickness that comes in the mornings. She did nay wish to be ill on her journey to her grandfather’s home. Ruiri knew she was with child and a happier man could nay be found in all the clan. That changed the day she was taken from him.”

  “And how is this Jamie’s problem?”

  “Patience, lassie. Some of the tales to tell have many threads woven amid them. How indeed!. Jamie is the eldest son. T’was Jamie that traveled at the forefront of the retinue while his brothers followed behind him. When the fray began, Jamie jumped straight a ways in, but after the lass lay pinned to a tree with an arrow stuck in her heart. Jamie carries the burden that as first born, he should have somehow protected his brothers and also the betrothed of Ruiri.”

  “But, that clearly was not his fault. When there is war, there is nothing anyone can do to prevent the casualties that result from it. Surely, Jamie was not the one to stop it, for if he could have, I think he would have.”

  Morag smiled sadly at Sinead’s words. She asked, “Well, how do ye’ know this? Ye’ve nay had much dealins’ with Jamie. And ye’ yerself said sometimes ye’ like him and sometimes ye’ dunna’.”

  “I may not know a lot about Jamie, but I can see he is a man of honor especially when it comes to the dealings of his clan and family.”

  “A truthful observation, lass. Honor rules all the lads of this house, but Jamie is most driven by it; by his sense of honor to what will be even if it is not of his choosing. May Laird Caleb live a long and prosperous life, but t’is Jamie who will likely succeed his father when the time comes.”

  “And you already mentioned that is not the life he wishes for himself.”

  “Nay, t’is not. I rather think that of all the brothers, perhaps Ruiri is the strongest among them as a leader, but he has too many demons of his own now and I dunna’ know if he will banish them. Jamie’s lot is nay written in stone, but tradition usually puts the first born son in place as heir.”

  Sinead nodded, pensively. She was once again taken with the idea of not being able to choose a life for one’s self. That did not sit well with her. She had been so focused on the fact that women did not have much say in things that she hadn’t given much thought that Jamie would have little choices in the path his life took. She realized just what she had taken for granted in her own world. Suddenly, her heart truly softened for the man who had called to her from the past. His life was not his own and for that, Sinead was truly sorry. This was a man who was strong and determined and yet, whatever dreams he may have had, albeit being a sheep herder and wool merchant, were his own and he deserved to pursue them as he saw fit. She knew him to be a man of physical strength, which would serve him as a soldier and leader of a clan, but if a man’s heart was not in something that could obviously be dangerous. It was the type of thing that could get him killed.

  Was she supposed to save him in that regard? Was it not enough to distract him from the ambush set upon murdering him before her eyes? Was she somehow, supposed to encourage him to embrace his destiny within the clan? She eyed Morag for a moment and then she blurted out, “Am I the one who is supposed to persuade him to lead the clan? I mean, a man could lose his life in the perilous business of clan rivalry. Is that why I have been sent?”

  “Only the Ancients know why ye’ have been sent, lass. But I would wager that there is more than one way a man can die.”

  Gulping down the last dregs of her mug, Morag said quietly, “If a man’s heart is not filled, a man could lose his desire to live. Without that fulfillment, lass, life is not worth fighting for and no amount of clan pride can lead a man to his heart’s desire.”

  Sinead thought Morag was speaking about Jamie’s chosen path as opposed to his birthright. The cryptic approach of how the old lady said things could be taken more than one way; that was sure. Somehow, Sinead felt that Morag was actually speaking about Jamie’s heart and how he needed someone to unlock it. Sinead was not sure she was up to the task. Saving his physical life was starting to feel like the easier of the two.

  Chapter 23

  Ruiri approached his brother who was once again in the pens tending to his precious lambs. He could see his mood was somber and it almost rivaled his own darkness that seemed ever present since the death of Caitlyn. He would not think of her now for there was no point to dire memories. They belonged only to the past. There were more important things to discuss and Ruiri was ready to set forth the type of justice due to treachery. He cleared his throat and Jamie looked up from his tasks.

  “Brother, we need to strike back at the MacKenzie for their part in their ambush.”

  “Ye’ are assuming it was the MacKenzie and not the MacDougal.”

  “The lass said it was nay.”

  “Aye and she is a MacDougal.”

  Ruiri rubbed his chin and he said, “Call me a fool, lad, but I believe the lass. This stinks of MacKenzie. MacDougals raid and are a royal pain in the arse, but they dunna’ stoop to ambush. I am not sayin’ the MacDougal are innocent and they have done their fair share of damage over the years, but something about this does not sit right with me.”

  “So ye’ believe the lass.”

  “I do, brother. Dunna’ ask me why, for I canna’ explain it.”

  “Hmph, perhaps she has beguiled ye’.”

  With the slightest lifting of his lips, Ruiri said, “Nay in the way ye’ think. I suspect ye’ are more the victim than I.”

  Jamie shot Ruiri a murderous look and he delved fully into pitching additional hay into the pen to keep his lambs warm. Ruiri crossed his arms over his chest and he said, “Admit it, brother. Ye’ find her alluring.”

  “T’will do me no good to admit it or nay. She is not going to be staying here by her own admission and t’is just as well. I
dunna’ know if she can be trusted but I will take yer’ counsel and ponder yer’ words.”

  “She did nay have to warn us, ye’ know. She put herself in grave danger and if she is part of the MacDougal plot, she greatly foiled it. She will be marked as a traitor to their clan if that is so, punishable by certain death. What would she have to gain to land herself in such peril if she was indeed with them?”

  “I know not. I canna’ figure the whole thing out, if ye’ must know.”

  “Nor can I but my gut tells me to trust her.”

  “Gut, is it? Now ye’ sound like Morag.”

  Ruiri rolled his eyes before pinning Jamie with a glare. “Ye’ know the Ancients use me more than I wish it. T’is nay my choice, for I would be done with them all had I the will to fight them.”

  Jamie knew why his brother was still so angry with the Guardians. He did not blame Ruiri and he would share the burden with him until they were both old men, he supposed. He said, “What do ye’ suggest we do? Father seems to think we need to wait for their next move, but I sense their treachery was not isolated and that they are plotting a much bigger rout.”

  “True. Not to mention that their intention was blocked and I dunna’ need to remind ye’ t’was because of the lass! They got away unscathed but I am not a man to let such a thing rest.”

  That was true. Jamie knew that better than anyone and he bore that weight heavily in his own heart. Since the death of his beloved Caitlyn, Ruiri had become a bit of an avenging angel. He had earned the name Wolf of the Highlands because of his unquenchable thirst for vengeance on those who were hell bent on dishonorable intentions. Sometimes Ruiri called it “darkness” or “shadow”, but it was a bloodlust that could not be quelled once it had come upon him. It made Jamie glad Ruiri was his brother because he sure as hell would not want to be on the wrong end of Ruiri’s sword, when Ruiri was of a mind.

  Ruiri leveled his gaze at Jamie and with an almost unearthly glow to their amber depths he spoke. It was happening again, Jamie could tell. T’was part of the legend that his brother had culled. Things changed in Ruiri’s eyes and his voice took on a deeper rasp. “Mark me, Brother. I will see them pay for what they have done.”

  Jamie had no doubt that Ruiri would make whoever was responsible for the ambush the other day pay dearly for their treachery. True to his honor and his duty, Jamie would stand and fight beside his younger brother and he was certain that his other siblings would rise to the dispute as well.

  Jamie clapped Ruiri across the shoulders and he said, “I know ye’ will, Ruiri and I will ever stand beside ye’.”

  Ruiri shook his head. “Nay. T’is too dangerous. Ye’ are da’s heir. T’would do no good to get yerself killed when it seemed that was their sole intent.”

  Now it was Jamie’s turn to feel the anger burbling deep within him. “I am nay to be coddled, Ruiri. Nor am I a man to allow my younger brothers to fight my battles. I shall stand with ye’ of that ye’ can be certain.”

  Understanding passed between them, then and they gave an unspoken oath to meet their foe as one united force. Ruiri turned to go but just before he left the sheepfold, he looked back over his shoulder. “Ye’ have another duty here, Jamie, though ye’ may not admit it. Ye’ must protect the lass. Ye’ must. I fear for her life, now that she has thwarted the murderous plans.”

  “I shan’t let anything happen to her.”

  “Trust me, brother, ye’ will lose a piece of yer’ soul should she suffer because of our feud with the MacKenzie.”

  With those ominous words, Ruiri went to the stables to ride out amid the countryside. Perhaps he would do some hunting, but more than likely, Jamie knew he would be going into the local village to try to see if he could learn more about the MacKenzie plot against them. Jamie pondered the wise words of his younger brother and deep down he knew Ruiri was right; about everything. Sinead already held a piece of his soul even though he would never admit it. Should anything happen to her, he would never be able to forgive himself; MacDougal or not.

  ⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘

  Sinead wandered through the keep, just exploring the many maze-like corridors that twisted through the stone façade that had been built into the rock of the mountain. She was in awe of the place. It made the castle at the Cloisters look like a movie set comparatively. Despite it being in the Middle Ages, from what Sinead could see, things ran smoothly like a well-oiled machine. That was a testament to the leader and his family of the Clan. If she had expected it to be near ruin or slovenly, Sinead would have been mistaken. The walls fairly gleamed with the torchlight that illuminated the stones. The great hall was the hive of activity, with meals being served throughout the day. That was where Laird Caleb met with members of the clan or other entourage that sought shelter amid the fortress. For someone like Sinead, who had studied history most of her life and made it her career, being among the actual workings of a thriving keep was an amazing adventure.

  As she rounded a corner, she heard the strains of lovely music coming from one of the antechambers. She peaked into the room and saw a beautiful young woman playing a hand-carved Celtic harp. This must be Jamie’s sister, who had loaned her the clothing she was given by Morag. At her appearance, Bronwyn stopped playing and gaped at the woman standing beneath the doorway.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Please don’t let me interrupt you. Your playing is beautiful.”

  Bronwyn smiled and said quite definitely, “Ah, thank ye’. Ye’ are Jamie’s lass.”

  Sinead was taken aback at those words. Had everyone already determined that she was Jamie’s woman? Hadn’t she, herself, felt his claim upon her as surely as if he had staked it? She barely knew him and yet, the truth of his sister’s words rang in her head. With the slightest stammer, Sinead responded, “I don’t really know what I am to your brother. I am not even sure I know what I am supposed to do here.”

  Bronwyn set aside her harp and she stood to meet the woman who had somehow turned the household upside down but in a way, she had been glad for it because it allayed talks of unwanted suitors and prospective marriages for her. Bronwyn knew what had been foretold, but she was not a woman who embraced the Old Ways as many had before her. Thoughts of unwanted marriage proposals left her as Jamie’s woman had entered the chamber. Bronwyn was curious to meet the woman who had sent Jamie stumbling like no other had ever been known to do. The rumors were that this stranger had done just that.

  Bronwyn seemed to be studying Sinead as if she was some sort of oddity and Sinead supposed that in a sense, she truly was. It’s not every day a woman from seven hundred years in the future drops on one’s doorstep. Sinead was about to offer her hand but realized that wasn’t the normal type of greeting in medieval Scotland. Instead, she simply said, “I’m Sinead. I wanted to thank you personally for lending me some of your clothes.”

  Bronwyn nodded and said quite abruptly, “Where are ye’ from and how did ye’ find yer’ way to Jamie?”

  Not knowing exactly what to say because of Morag’s warning to keep their secret as closely as they could, Sinead said, “I am from a place that is far from this beautiful land. I don’t rightly know how I came to be here.”

  That part was true. She still was reeling when she thought of how she had ended up in this time and place.

  “Ye’ speak English, but ye’ dunna’ seem to be a Sassenach.”

  “I am not English. My heritage is Scottish.” That was true, as well, even though Sinead hadn’t really embraced her ancestral lineage until she had fallen through time into the Highlands.

  “Ye dunna’ sound Scottish. Forgive me for being so bold. I was nay tryin’ to be rude to ye’.”

  “No apologies are necessary. I should let you get back to your practicing, although it sounds as if you don’t need to practice. Your playing is amazing.”

  Bronwyn’s eyes darted to the left and then as if she was letting Sinead in on a little secret, she said, “If ye’ please, Lady Sinead, I’d like ye to stay to
talk. Ye’ may have noticed there are nay many lasses near our age about. Why this keep is filled to the stores with menfolk and the closest person about is Old Morag. I’d love it to be able to talk to someone other than one of my over-protective brothers or my da’.”

  Sinead felt the offering of friendship from this beautiful young woman and she was very glad for it. There were other women about the castle, but most of those were serving women and quite caught up in their daily tasks. Sinead was quite sure that even with so many people around, a person could be quite lonely and she was pretty certain that was how it must be for the only daughter of a powerful laird in a keep teeming with testosterone.

  “Please come in, Lady Sinead.”

  “It’s just Sinead. I have no title and since I would guess we are close in age, it seems silly, er, I mean wrong for you to address me that way.” Sinead was fully aware of the proprieties that were part of feudal life, but she continued, “I hope you don’t mind that I call you Bronwyn.”

  As if the younger woman had breathed a sigh of relief, she smiled and said, “Aye, that would suit me as well. Do come in.”

  Sinead entered the smaller room and Bronwyn shut the door behind her. She sat down and smoothed the skirt over her lap. She rather liked being in the long dresses that all women wore and she thought when she wasn’t running, she would like to bring more longer skirts back into her wardrobe when she returned home. That thought brought a frown to her face. She did not know if she would ever be able to get back home and part of her did not like to think of never seeing these people again. She refused to admit that never seeing Jamie again bothered her most of all.

  Bronwyn noticed the change in Sinead’s expression and she asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Pasting a forced smile back on her lips, Sinead said, “Oh it’s nothing really. So tell me about your beautiful instrument. Where did you get it and how long have you been playing it?”