Dark Sword 05: Shadow Highlander

by Donna Grant

  Every time she had tried to talk to Mairi about it, however, the elder was quick to point out why the village needed Reaghan.

  Mairi and the other elders meant well, but Reaghan had to make this decision on her own. It would likely tear her in two, but she had to leave. There was something out there for her to do; she just didn’t know what it was yet.

  Then there was the parchment Reaghan had come upon in Mairi’s chest by accident. It had been so old the edges had crumbled when her fingers touched them. The words, though faded, had been in Gaelic—a language Reaghan had never read before, but somehow she had recognized the words. Had understood them.

  That surprise faded to nothing when she read her name and discovered she wasn’t from Loch Awe but instead came from a group of Druids of Foinaven Mountain.

  There was no mention of her parents. Nothing about why she had been sent to Loch Awe or what had happened to make her parents send her away. Had her parents died? Did she have other family?

  Just those few sentences, so very few words in the parchment, but they created more questions.

  There had been so many questions running through her mind. Her head had swum with suspicion and supposition. Mairi had been like a mother to her. She wanted to give the elder a chance to explain things.

  As usual, Mairi had given evasive answers to her initial questions, and Reaghan sensed if she mentioned the parchment Mairi would lie. And Reaghan couldn’t handle that. For some reason Mairi and the other elders thought they had to lie to her about her past. But why? What was so awful?

  Regardless of what it was, Reaghan wanted the truth.

  But Mairi wouldn’t give her the truth. Not even a glimmer of it. No matter how many times Reaghan asked about her parents, Mairi would give the same response she had given for years—that they had found her and saved her from a fever.

  That’s when she began to question everything the elders told her. They had been lying to her for years about where she came from. What else were they lying about?

  Reaghan had put the parchment with her own things and begun to plan to find the Druids and the home where she belonged. It was as good a place as any to begin, and maybe it would halt the persistent feeling inside her that told her there was something for her to do.

  On the morrow Reaghan would depart the safe haven she had known for ten years and strike out on her own into a world she didn’t know.

  Tomorrow, everything would change. For better or worse. She was fearful but eager. Nervous but exhilarated. It was the start of a new life, one she intended to seize with both hands and make the most of. Whatever the outcome.

  She had dreams she wanted to fulfill, like anyone else. But she didn’t want much. She wanted to be happy, to find a man with whom she could share her life and start a family. She wanted children to fill her days with laughter and memories.

  Reaghan was brought out of her thoughts when someone bumped into her. She blinked and focused on the faces around her as they stood in the middle of their small village. Mairi shook her head in frustration as she began to speak of their need to hunt for food.

  The pounding began at the base of Reaghan’s neck and worked its way up to her temples, increasing with each beat of her heart. She didn’t know why her head had begun to ache the past month as it had, and she feared there was no cure for it.

  She put a hand to her forehead. The coolness against her skin gave some relief, but not nearly enough. Reaghan tried to hide her grimace of pain as she turned away, but Mairi’s brown eyes were sharp, despite her age.

  “You’re hurting again, child. You need to rest.”

  The soft, comforting hands that had helped heal Reaghan from the fever so long ago took hold of her arms now and guided her to her cottage.

  Not that the structure could be called a cottage. The Druids had moved around Loch Awe for years until the young ones began to go away, leaving only the older Druids and a few others who didn’t want to abandon the beauty and safety of the loch. That’s when, hundreds of years ago, the Druids had decided to make a permanent village hidden away from the world by magic and blending into the surroundings.

  Reaghan leaned her hand against the trunk of the giant oak that stood in the middle of her home. She looked up to see the branches of the noble tree as supports for the roof, which was covered with leaves and vines to shield them from the elements. Large, cut limbs were bound together with vines and used for the walls. The skillful use of the trees blended with the magic created an illusion that one could mistake the cottages for nothing more than the forest.

  All the Druids used what nature supplied them with to craft their homes. Many travelers walked past their village and never saw it.

  “Sit,” Mairi ordered, her voice brooking no argument.

  Reaghan allowed the old woman to push her down into a chair. The throbbing of her head always began slowly, building with intensity. And each day when it came, it grew worse, lasted longer. Reaghan would be weak for hours afterward, her body not her own.

  Something wasn’t right. Reaghan knew it in the marrow of her bones. But no matter who she asked or what she asked, no one had any answers. Maybe the headaches were connected to the long-ago fever Mairi had saved her from and no one wanted to tell her.

  “I’ll be fine,” Reaghan said, and took the cool, wet cloth Mairi handed her. She put it to her forehead and sighed. Just speaking made her head pound worse. The ache was so terrible she couldn’t clamp her teeth together.

  Years could have passed as Reaghan endured the pain, concentrating on keeping her stomach from souring. Just as suddenly as the ache had come on, it disappeared. For long moments Reaghan didn’t move, afraid her head would begin to hammer again. Her body was weak, and all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

  Finally, she dropped the cloth and raised her head. “It is gone.”

  “For now,” Mairi murmured. Her eyes, filled with concern, dropped to the table as she tapped the wood with a fingernail. “How bad was this one?”

  “I was able to handle the pain.”

  Mairi smiled sadly and cupped Reaghan’s cheek. “My darling girl, that is not what I asked.”

  “It was worse than the one from yesterday.”

  Mairi lowered her hand and looked away, but not before Reaghan saw the resignation in her old brown eyes.

  “You know what is happening to me, don’t you?” Reaghan asked.

  Mairi released a long breath. “Reaghan, sometimes it is best if you don’t know the answers to all your questions.”

  It was too much. Reaghan stood and moved around Mairi, needing to be alone. Her body was weak, but she couldn’t stay with the elder a moment longer. She needed some time alone. “I’m going to go for a walk.”

  “You do understand we need you, don’t you, Reaghan? Our numbers decline more each year. I fear that one day I will be the only one left.”

  Reaghan’s heart clenched in her chest as Mairi’s words made her pause near the door. She understood the panic that ran through the village as their numbers declined. “What will be, will be,” she said without turning around.

  She didn’t slow once she left her cottage and walked out of what the remaining twenty-three Druids called a village. Reaghan didn’t stop, not even when the only child, Braden, called to her to pick berries with him.

  Reaghan felt as if she were slowly going daft. There was much more going on than just the aches of her head. Her dreams had also been filled with images she couldn’t explain but felt she had seen with her own eyes. People. Places. Events. All of which she knew she hadn’t experienced, yet she knew she had. Somehow.

  It was illogical. She had never left Loch Awe, so how could she have seen a magnificent castle on the cliffs or the mountain peak where she somehow knew evil was bred?

  Reaghan paused beside a pine, her hand upon the rough bark, and took a deep breath. The sunlight filtered through the overhanging branches and leaves, making the vivid, interesting designs on the ground that Reaghan had alwa
ys found so fascinating. But not today. The smell of pine, of decaying leaves, and a hint of some sweet flower did not calm her as it usually did.

  The anxiety inside her only grew with each day, filling her so that she could barely close her eyes at night. There was a part of her that screamed for her to leave posthaste before … before what, she didn’t know. She only sensed that something was going to happen.

  She knew she was safe with the Druids. They might not answer her questions, but they had shown her only love and friendship since she had awoken from the fever.

  There was safety in the village. Reaghan knew of Deirdre, knew how the drough hunted other Druids. Yet Reaghan wanted to know where she had come from. There might be family still on Foinaven Mountain.

  Reaghan shook her head and swallowed past the painful lump in her throat at the thought of leaving Loch Awe and the Druids.

  Her thoughts ground to a halt when she heard the keening call of the falcon. It was as if the bird of prey called to her, for her.

  There was magic with the bird, of that Reaghan was certain. She didn’t know how or why, only that it was so.

  Reaghan watched the magnificent bird fly over the loch before swooping into the trees. Falcons were majestic birds, and the peregrine was the fastest of them all. It moved with artistry and grace, precision and deadly intent.

  The bird landed on a thick branch high in a tree not far from Reaghan, folding its wings against its sleek body. She could have sworn the bird’s sharp eyes turned to her as its blackish-colored head cocked to the side.

  Reaghan was disappointed. She would have preferred to watch the bird fly. She could have pretended she was the falcon, and the vast expanse of sky her only prison.

  With a sigh she lowered her gaze and stilled. Two men stood below her at the shore of the loch. Her fingers dug into the bark of the pine tree as her heart raced frantically and her stomach dropped to her feet like a stone.

  Their gazes moved slowly, as if they searched for something—or someone. She stood inside the magical confines of the village. As long as she stayed within the border, the men would never see her. Why that filled her with regret, she wasn’t sure.

  “We’ve been searching for four hours,” one mumbled.

  The blond nodded. “I well know. I’m no’ about to give up, though.”

  A glance at their two different kilts told her they weren’t from the same clan. Travelers maybe? What were such handsome men doing at Loch Awe unless they were on their way to MacIntosh Castle? And what could they be looking for?

  Many times she had watched such travelers and yearned to speak to them. What could it hurt? She was leaving on the morrow, once she gathered the rest of her items. What better way to test what awaited her than speaking to strangers near the safety of the village?

  And if they are from Deirdre?

  She would step back into the magic barrier and watch as the men, confused, looked for her.

  Her decision made, Reaghan took the step that put her outside the magic. The men, as one, turned their heads to her. They stared at her, silent and intent.

  She didn’t worry about the men seeing the village. Yet. For the moment, they seemed satisfied to observe her. The men looked affable enough, but Reaghan knew better than to trust on appearances alone. Everyone hid something.

  “Hello,” the one closest to her said, and she felt her breath catch in her chest.

  His voice was rich and smooth, friendly. The sound of it made her blood quicken, causing her to want to hear more. He had thick, dark blond hair that was tied in a loose queue at the back of his neck.

  Even from a distance of twenty or so paces, she could see the vibrant cobalt blue of his eyes. The way he watched her, studied her, made gooseflesh rise on her skin as awareness skidded around her, through her.

  He stood with his arms to his sides, seemingly at ease despite the corded muscles she glimpsed in his arms and chest. There was a predatory elegance about him that told Reaghan he could—and would—defend what was his. To the death.

  Unable to help herself, Reaghan let her gaze run over his chiseled face. His forehead was high, his brows thin and golden. His cheeks were hollowed, his chin hard, and his jaw squared. That jaw was shadowed with a beard, making him appear more interesting, more dangerous.

  More enticing.

  Reaghan tried to swallow, tried to think of anything but the very male, very appealing man before her. She knew she was being rude in not answering him as she looked her fill, but how could she not? He was everything a Highland warrior should be.

  His lips tilted ever so slightly in a smile, as if he knew what went through her mind. Reaghan wanted to move closer to him, to touch his skin and run her hands through his hair.

  She yearned to feel the strength of him, to have his muscles move beneath her hand. She longed to run her fingertip over his wide lips, to look deeper into his stunning blue eyes.

  Her blood pounded in her ears like a drum the more she thought about touching him, of learning him.

  It was as if for the first time in her life she was truly alive. Sounds she hadn’t paid attention to before filled her ears, scents she hadn’t noticed before swirled around her, and the colors of the forest and loch seemed more brilliant, more effervescent than usual.

  All because of one man.

  She inhaled a shaky breath and pulled her scattered longings back inside her. She would look at her reaction to the man later in the privacy of her own cottage when his cobalt gaze wasn’t on her, reading her every emotion.

  “Hello,” she finally replied. She knew the elders wouldn’t approve, but it had been so long since she had seen anyone other than those in her village, especially men of marriageable age.

  “Do you live around here?” the other man asked.

  Reaghan regretfully shifted her gaze from the first man to the second. His wavy brown hair hung freely about his shoulders. His smile was wider, more teasing, but she saw darkness lurked in his hazel eyes, a darkness he tried valiantly to hide. He was the same height as the first, with the same build, though he was leaner.

  She licked her lips, wariness stealing over her for the first time, crushing her newfound excitement. She didn’t know these men, didn’t know where they had come from or what they wanted. Was this fear what she would experience once she left the village? “Many live on Loch Awe.”

  “My name is Galen Shaw,” the first man said. His words were unhurried, casual. “My friend is Logan Hamilton.”

  Just knowing their names eased some of Reaghan’s trepidation. She was just a step away from safety and Druids who would come running, their magic—inadequate though it was—at the ready. It gave her the courage to ask, “And what brings you to our loch, Galen Shaw?”

  He grinned, sending ripples of perception through her as the corners of his eyes crinkled. “We’re looking for Druids.”

  “Druids?” Reaghan’s heart fluttered like a butterfly caught in a net. So that’s what they had meant when they said they had been searching for hours.

  Gazing at Galen’s handsome body made it difficult to breathe, to think, but the mention of Druids nearly choked her. No one spoke of Druids. “You realize there are no more Druids? Those who claimed the old ways were burned as pagans.”

  Logan moved until he was even with Galen and gave her a teasing wink. “Aye, my lady, but we know the truth. Druids are most certainly around, and it’s verra important we speak to one.”

  She wondered what they would do if she told them she was a Druid. It was the truth, though she held no magic of her own. Such was the way when Druid blood was diluted with those that had no magic. It was what was slowly becoming of her people, one reason they fought so hard to keep her among them.

  “I’m afraid you gentlemen are wrong. There haven’t been Druids around here in centuries.”

  “We have proof,” Galen said.

  This was getting interesting. Maybe too interesting. Reaghan knew she ought to send the men away, but she was having too
much fun. Besides, she liked the way her body and senses came alive with Galen. It was peculiar and terrifying, but breathtaking at the same time. “What proof?”

  “Another Druid sent us.”

  Galen pulled out a rolled parchment from his kilt and spread it out for her to see. Reaghan recognized it as a drawing of the loch. She raised her gaze to his and found him watching her closely.

  “That only proves someone has been to the loch and can draw.”

  “True enough. Except it was a Druid who told us we could find the village of Druids here,” he said, and pointed to the spot on the map where her village sat.

  Reaghan didn’t know what to say. Her fellow Druids had long thought there were no more of them out in the world, that they were the last. The parchment Reaghan had found the other day proved there had been other Druids, but there was no evidence those Druids still existed.

  She wanted to know. She had to know. If there were more Druids, she was going to find them.

  “Reaghan.”

  Startled, she turned her head to find Odara, one of three elders, to her left. Odara stood like a bent soldier with her stooped shoulders pulled back and her graying red head held high. She was only able to look down at the men with her green eyes because of her vantage on the slope.

  “These men claim to be searching for a Druid village,” Reaghan told her.

  Galen nodded and again pointed to the location on the map. “A Druid sent us. Isla promised we would find a Druid village here.”

  For long moments Odara silently measured the men, her green gaze moving first to Galen then to Logan.

  It was Logan who finally spoke. “We can feel your magic. We know we’ve found the Druids.”

  Reaghan’s blood drummed deafeningly in her ears as his words sank in. They could feel the magic of the Druids? Who were these men? And what did they want with Druids? She suddenly began to doubt her wisdom in talking to them. Had she just put everyone in terrible danger?