Highland Hunger Bundle with Yours for Eternity & Highland Beast

by Hannah Howell

  “The boy will be cherished at Cambrun, as will all these children,” he said when he was certain his anger would not seep into his words. “Having accepted that we have become a dying people, any child with e’en the smallest drop of MacNachton blood is considered a gift, a sign that we arenae destined to fade into the mists.”

  “Mayhap we should just fade away.”

  “Nay. I told ye, we arenae demons and we arenae cursed. We are but a different breed of man. Kenning what Outsiders say about us, what they do to all who are so different, is why we are searching so hard for ones such as ye are. And we arenae the only different breed of man.” He told them a little about the Callans, his mother’s clan who claimed to be descended from a Celtic shape-shifter. “Who kens what others may be out there? Ones who can hide amongst the Outsiders better than we can. We have begun a search for others as weel, for our laird feels it would make us stronger if all who are different became allies.”

  “The Callans bred out what made them different? They dinnae act like cats any longer?” Alice actually considered the possibility that she was not some hellborn aberration.

  “Ah, weel, nay. Not all of their differences have disappeared. We begin to think it is impossible to breed it all out, but Cathal, our laird, says we can soften the hard edges of our differences. ’Tis good enough. And, if ye and the others like ye had been made known to us, we could have helped ye hide what ye are, could have taught ye how to keep yourselves hidden amongst the crowd. By leaving ye to grow up untrained, without knowledge of who ye are, my ancestors condemned ye. It took a while, and a great deal of arguing, but even the Purebloods in the clan now see the truth of that.”

  “The Purebloods didnae want to change?”

  “Nay, they were reluctant to change the way we have lived for so verra long, but they have come to see that Cathal is right. The recent discovery of Lost Ones has helped change their minds.” He smiled faintly. “The fact that my mother and her sister, who married our laird, have bred easily and frequently hasnae hurt, either.”

  “So now ye do have children?” asked Alyn.

  “Some, but nay enough. ’Tis difficult to find wives and husbands outside of the clan,” explained Gybbon. “Especially since many would have to come and live amongst us for the safety of their mate and whatever children they might have.”

  “How can ye be so certain we will be welcomed by your clan?”

  “I told ye, we are a dying breed. Ye need more than two women bearing children to keep a clan alive and strong. We need new blood. And my clan cherishes children if only because we have had so few, have suffered a long time with no bairns born and ken the sorrow of barren nurseries. Our younger men, ones who have a skill for blending with Outsiders, leave us to try and find a mate and some have succeeded. That only tempts others to do the same. Not all of them return, making their lives where their mates live.”

  “Another loss that weakens your clan,” said Alice.

  “Aye.” Gybbon tensed when he heard the faint sound of a horse, then relaxed when he recognized the soft tread of his cousins. “My cousins return,” he said quickly when he saw that Alice and the children had all tensed with fear.

  When his cousins sat down by the fire and began to pull food from a saddle-pack, Gybbon quickly took charge of it. He had once suffered hunger and knew he should not give in to the urge to feed the starving children all they wanted. He suspected it had been a very long time since any of them had known the comfort of a full belly. Too much food now would only make them ill. He gave them each a modest portion of the bread, cheese, and cold venison, plus one honey-sweetened oatcake each. Then he served the adults the same and signaled Martyn to pack the food away. At first the children tried to stuff their mouths full, but one sharp look from Alice halted that mindless greed. Gybbon began to think that Alice had once been a well-taught lady from a family of means as, once the urge to gorge had been ended, she and the children ate their food with surprising delicacy.

  “How long have ye been running and hiding?” he asked Alice as she helped the smaller children drink some cider from his wineskin. Later, he thought, he would offer them some of the blood-enriched wine MacNachtons always carried with them, for they could all use the strength it would give them.

  “Six years,” she replied. “I was away from home, collecting berries, when the men attacked my family. If they had not fired the stable I might weel have stumbled into their grasp. Instead, the smell of smoke caused me to approach slowly. What I saw—” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to maintain her calm, to push back the grief that could still choke her at times. “It was clear to see that I was too late to help my family, could only die as they had, so I hid myself away. Once I was certain the men were gone, I slipped back, collected what little was left and might be of use, and then placed the bodies of my family in our ruined home. I made it their tomb.”

  “How many did you lose?”

  “Mother, father, grandmother, and sister.”

  “Thrice curse the bastards,” muttered Lachann, then blushed faintly as he recalled that he was in the presence of a woman and children. “Forgive my harsh language.”

  “Mine has often been far harsher,” Alice said, “and the ills I wish upon those murderers far bloodier.”

  “Ye were caught once, though, aye?” Gybbon glanced at Donn, who was savoring his sweetened oatcake bite by little bite.

  “Aye. Once. The fools may think me a demon but they also still see me as a woman, weak and easily cowed as they think all women are. I escaped. I willnae be caught alive again,” she added softly, hoping she could keep that vow despite her strong will to survive at all costs. “As I ran and hid I found first Alyn, then Jayne, and then Norma. All orphaned.”

  “I wasnae orphaned,” said Alyn. “I was thrown out.”

  “And thus orphaned through ignorant fear instead of the death of loved ones.” Alice reached out to pat his cheek. “We make our own family now,” she said as she handed Gybbon back his wineskin.

  “Ye will soon have a verra large family,” said Gybbon and smiled. “So large ye will soon wish to get away from it now and then.”

  “Will adding five more nay crowd ye all even more?”

  “Nay, for Cambrun has a massive keep, above and below the ground. There is also a large village in the valley. The MacNachtons’ Outsider allies, the MacMartins, live there. The MacMartins have been our allies for hundreds of years,” he added when he saw her frown. “Their loyalty to us is steadfast.”

  Alice was not sure she believed that, but she would still follow these men to Cambrun. The meal they had just eaten had swept aside the last vestiges of hesitation. Even carefully meted out as the food had been, it had still been far more than she and the children had enjoyed in a very long time.

  Gybbon studied Alice and the children. He knew the Hunters they had driven away had not given up. They had dealt with this enemy enough to know the men never gave up. Taking a woman, three children of nursery age, and one underfed boy along with them was going to make the journey to Cambrun long and hazardous. If the Hunters caught up with them, the ensuing battle could easily hurt the children. There had to be a way to keep the Hunters off the trail of the children.

  The Hunters were after the woman, he suddenly realized. She was the one they looked for. It was her trail they followed. They had also only referred to one child, her child. There was a good chance they did not know about the others. If they did not see the child, they would just assume that she had hidden the boy away, as she had done this time. If he wanted to ensure that the children reached Cambrun safely, he had to lead the Hunters away from them. Alice Boyd was the bait their enemies would follow. He was just not sure if she would entrust the children to anyone else.

  “The children will ride to Cambrun with my cousins,” Gybbon said and was not surprised when Alice tensed and opened her mouth to argue his abrupt command. She had already done a lot to protect the children, only one of whom was h
er blood child. “Ye and I, Alice Boyd, will lead the Hunters away from them.” He repeated all his thoughts on the matter and was pleased when she only frowned in thought. After six years of being hunted like an animal, she obviously had the cunning needed to recognize the worthiness of his plan.

  “Ye think they will follow our trail and nay try to hunt down the others?” she asked.

  “I do. They hunt ye, nay the bairns. The bairns would be killed once found, nay doubt, but ’tis ye they hunt.” Gybbon heard his cousins mutter their agreement, but he kept his gaze fixed on Alice.

  Alice looked at the children. They were as weary and hungry as she was. It astonished her that they had all survived as long as they had. The very differences that condemned them were obviously what gave them the strength to survive. These men offered the children the chance of a better, safer life, one where the differences that had endangered them for so long would be fully accepted. It would be nearly a sin to deny them that. All she had to do was trust the men long enough to let her children go, to hand their safety over to someone else for the first time in years.

  Chapter Three

  Alice watched her children ride away with Lachann and Martyn until they could no longer be seen. Everything within her, heart, soul, and mind, cried to pull them back, but she fought the urge. Each time the Hunters found her, the lives of her children were put in danger. They were all so young. If something happened to her she knew they would suffer, could even die. Alyn was a clever boy but he was only nine. He would do his best to protect the younger children if she was captured or killed, but Alice knew he would fail. And each time the men found her, her chances of escape grew ever smaller.

  They were being taken to safety, she reminded herself. It was something she had done far too often to count since the moment Gybbon had announced that they had to separate. Her mind knew his plan was sound, that it gave the children the best chance to escape. Doubts came from her heart and she had to ignore them. The men were like her, like the children, and that had to be enough to warrant her trust. That, and the look of delight and wonder on the men’s faces when they had first seen the children. Holding that memory in her mind helped her still her doubts and fears.

  “My cousins will guard the children with their lives,” said Gybbon as he took her by the arm and led her to their horses.

  Gybbon had watched her leave-taking of the children and was astonished she had allowed them to ride away with men she did not really know. The bond between her and the children, not just her blood son, was a powerful one, forged in fear and danger. What troubled him was why she had let them go. Gybbon did not need to ask. He knew. Alice had sent the children away with his cousins because she believed she was losing her battle against the Hunters, that she was soon to die. It was an admirable thing to do but he could not allow her to hold fast to that air of martyrdom. If they were to survive the next few days, she had to believe in him, believe that she could win this fight and finally reach a safe haven with her children at her side.

  “Is that nay what we are doing as weel?” she asked as she mounted the sleek, black mare he led her to.

  “In many ways, aye.” Gybbon mounted his gelding Resolute, yet again pleased that they had had the foresight to bring two extra horses, for with both of them riding, it would be easier to lead the Hunters astray and stay out of their grasp. “We are the bait for the Hunters to follow, and when there are no more Hunters to plague us, we will ride to Cambrun.”

  “Ye sound so confident. The odds are heavy against us.” Nudging her horse to keep pace with Gybbon’s, Alice was pleased with the mare’s obedience. It had been a long time since she had ridden a horse and it was good to know she had been given an easily controlled one.

  “’Tis best to ride into battle with confidence, with a surety that ye will be victorious.”

  “No one can be certain they will win when they go into battle. E’en the best plans can go awry and e’en the most skilled of warriors can err or stumble.”

  “True, but thinking that, and only that, only increases the chance that such misfortunes will occur.”

  Alice suspected there was some truth to his words. If one expected the worst, one often got it. It was as if fate decided the worst was what you wanted and so gave it to you. She had begun to expect only the worst and had known it was a weakness, but each day it had gotten harder and harder to fight. Hope was what she needed to remain strong. Unfortunately, after running and hiding for so long her very bones ached with weariness, she had too little hope left within her.

  “Exactly what is your plan?” she asked.

  “To lead the Hunters far away from my cousins and the bairns and to lessen their numbers one by one until none are left or the survivors race home to their wee cottages to cower beneath their wee beds.”

  “Ye mean to kill them all.”

  “At least the ones who willnae give up. That troubles ye?”

  “A wee bit.”

  “Why? They mean to kill ye and your child.”

  “Aye,” Alice admitted, knowing that death was all that would shake most of the Hunters off her trail, for they thought they were doing God’s work. “Ye dinnae need to fear that I will forget that.”

  “And one of the ones hunting ye now is Donn’s father, aye?”

  “Callum, the tall one who ordered Geordie to leave. The fact that I escaped him and bred a son from his cruelty appalls him. He wants me and Donn dead, wants what he calls his shame buried and gone.” It hurt to even speak the words, to admit that her son’s father thought of him as an abomination. Some day Donn would understand that, would figure out the whole ugly truth even if she did not tell him, and she dreaded the pain it would cause her child.

  “Yet ye love the bairn, love a child born of rape.”

  “Rape only planted the seed. I grew and nurtured the child. He is mine. The fact that Callum can look at that small, sweet lad and see only evil that needs to be destroyed is nay something I will ever understand.”

  “The fact that he can look at his own bairn, his own son, and see that is but another good reason to kill him.”

  Although the chill in Gybbon’s voice made Alice shiver, she had to agree with him. One thing she had hated about being hunted was that it had forced her to kill. In the six years she had been running she had seen the life fade from the eyes of four men. It was a sight that haunted her dreams. She suspected a few of the men she had injured had died later but she had been able to shrug most thoughts of that aside. Watching death claim a man while his blood warmed her hands was not so easily ignored. Not even the reminder that those men had been trying to kill her, would have killed the children, eased the horror of what she had been forced to do to survive.

  The touch of a warm hand smoothing down her arm drew her from her dark thoughts and she looked at Gybbon. The understanding in his beautiful eyes eased the grip of her tortured memories. He probably did not suffer as she did over the men he had to kill, but she suddenly knew that he did not choose to kill, did not enjoy the necessity of it.

  “They hunt ye,” he said. “They hunt the children. The stain is upon their souls.”

  She just nodded, not sure she believed him. Despite the occasional nightmare, she had accepted what she had done as necessary. She had killed to keep from being killed. What Gybbon planned, however, was not face-to-face fighting. He intended to strike in silence, to slip out of the shadows, kill their enemy, and move on. It was a brilliant strategy when they were so outnumbered. However, Alice was not sure she would be able to do that.

  The sun had been up for over an hour before Gybbon signaled a halt. The only other stop they had made had been so that she could wash in a small, rocky burn and change her clothes. Alice had been so desperate to get clean and change her clothes, even though her clean clothes were almost as ragged as her dirty ones, that she had been able to push aside the fear of being naked anywhere within a mile of a man. Gybbon had used the time to scout for any sight of their enemy and then take a quick
bath in the cold burn himself. It still astonished Alice that she had accepted his word that he would give her privacy, but, even more, that she had actually been tempted to peek at him while he bathed.

  Gybbon dismounted, shaking her free of her puzzlement over why she should want to peer at a man bathing when all she had wanted to do for the last six years was stay as far away from men as possible. She quickly dismounted, caught up her mare’s reins, and followed him up a dangerously narrow rocky path. It startled her when he and his horse appeared to melt into the hillside, but as she drew nearer to where he had last stood, she saw the crevice he had slipped into. Wind-contorted trees and large stones plus a bend in the very shape of the hill had hidden the opening very well. It took a little coaxing to get her horse to pass through such a narrow opening, one that had a blind corner so that it looked as if she was trying to push the horse into a wall of stone.

  Once through the passage into a wider space, Alice stood very still until her eyes accepted the loss of daylight. It happened quickly and she knew she could see in the dark far better than any person without her cursed blood. When she realized she was suddenly seeing that skill as the gift Gybbon called it, she shook her head and studied their shelter.

  She stood in a somewhat spacious cave, the wood for a fire already arranged in a smooth hollow in the stone floor, and more wood neatly stacked against a wall to her right. This was obviously a MacNachton retreat, one of those places Gybbon had said his clan had found so that they could shelter from the sun when they traveled. In a strange way, the preparations this clan of his made to survive eased her fears about entrusting the children to them.