Highland Storm

by Tanya Anne Crosby

  “I would know what happened to Una,” Keane demanded, sending a pleading look toward Lìli. “I did not ride all this way to argue about David.”

  Tears filled Lìli’s eyes. “It was Constance who found her,” she said, but quickly looked away, unable to continue.

  “Constance?”

  “Cameron’s sister.”

  Keane lifted both brows, surprised to find that she was in Dubhtolargg. His brother must have brought her back from Chreagach Mhor. Why was a matter to be discussed another time, for Aidan sounded defeated when he spoke again. But his tone lacked the anger it bore but moments before.

  “The girl has seen more than she should have.”

  Keane waited with bated breath. Not even his brother would be so cruel as to kill a woman for the sake of that sacred stone. But for the first time since his arrival, Keane felt a moment of dread, for he realized that he had yet to spy Cameron’s sister’s face, and then he realized Sorcha had pulled him away to tell him news. “Aidan? What did Constance see?”

  No one dared speak.

  A muscle ticked at Keane’s jaw. “If aught has befallen the lass, Cameron has a right to know.”

  For a long, long moment, the crackle and pop of old wood was the only sound to breach the thickening silence. His brother seemed momentarily unable to speak. Suddenly, a trembling hand went to his face as though to conceal his grief. Three day’s worth of whiskers darkened Aidan’s jaw, and suddenly Keane understood what Una’s death had cost him.

  “She is with Kellen now,” Lìli explained, and it was she who rose to the occasion, explaining what happened.

  As best as anyone could say, Constance came across Una in the Stone’s chamber, down below her grotto. There, she saw the Stone of Destiny and read aloud the words on the ancient plaque. According to Constance, Una struck at her like a viper. There was an explosion of light, followed by a terrible thunder and she had no inkling how she came to find herself standing outside the caverns. But there they found her, trembling in the cold… and blinded. Una remained below. Now everything was gone. The upper chamber where they’d happened to store their wares, Una’s grotto, as well as the Stone’s cavern were all now mounted with layer upon layer of debris. It was as though the mountain collapsed upon itself. No one could survive such a catastrophe.

  Keane heard his brother’s breath catch, and he was yet unable to speak. “Ye dinna retrieve the body?”

  Aidan shook his head, looking wearier than Keane had ever seen him.

  “It was not possible,” Lìli said.

  The funeral bier was merely for show. It held but an effigy made of straw. Luckily, Fergus had ridden ahead to alert Aidan to the incoming horde. They did not want the king to ask where Una was interred. It was better that they did not know precisely what had occurred. And so Aidan instructed Kellen to keep Constance preoccupied in their bower while the king remained in the vale. If at all possible, Cameron must not be told about the stone. The fewer people who knew, the better, even despite that the Stone from Scone was gone. Neither man nor beast could disinter it, but no one would have liked to see them try. Somehow, with Una gone, it seemed to be the will of the gods that the stone be forever lost.

  “What is this I hear; you’ve taken a wife?” Aidan asked gruffly.

  “A daughter of Óengus.”

  “The Mormaer?” Aidan leveled a disbelieving look at Keane.

  “Aye. King David would see peace come to all of Scotia,” Lael defended. “He wills it with this union. He could have hung our brother; and yet he did not. Instead, he sought an alliance with our people, even despite that it will bring him grief once William Fitz Duncan learns the truth.”

  Aidan swore softly, his anger returning. “What else should I know, brother?”

  Keane peered back at Aidan with hard, glittering eyes, unwilling to speak ill of his bride, whether or not Lianae deserved it. She might not be standing here at his side, and he didn’t entirely trust her himself, but he dared to hope that someday he might… and if she carried another man’s babe, no man but Jaime and the king would ever hear of it whilst Keane lived. “I love her,” he said, and realized only in that instant that it was true.

  Aidan lifted a brow. So too did Lael. Keane met each of their gazes and willed them to understand. But he thought he saw Lael smile, though she hid it with a hand.

  “But this is joyous news!” Lìli exclaimed, jumping up from the bench and coming forward. “Isn’t it Aidan?”

  Aidan jaw remained taut, his eyes glittering as hard as diamonds.

  “Aidan please,” Lael begged.

  The hall remained silent as they awaited the laird of Dubhtolargg’s response. Finally, he conceded. “Aye,” he said. “’Tis good news… we welcome your Moray bride.”

  Having remained quiet long enough, Lachlann cleared his throat. “Much as I loathe to interrupt so much talk of love, shall we go and light the bier before the king arrives?”

  “Light the bier! Light the bier!”

  Responding to the panicked voices of her kinsmen, Cailin dún Scoti abandoned Lianae upon the beach to light the funeral bier. Her red hair burning as brightly as the flames she meant to burn, she climbed atop the dais, commanding the torches all be lit, and then she accepted them one by one, tossing them unceremoniously atop the pyre.

  As five hundred mounted soldiers marched down the mountain, flames tore across the wood, like a bone-dry field of grain.

  Pushing back her cloak over her shoulders, Lianae succumbed to the heat as she watched the flames consume the cadaver, burning through it as though it were made of nothing more than straw.

  But why would they burn an effigy?

  Remembering the smell of burnt flesh as they’d burned her father’s body, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that the old woman they’d spoken of was not there on the bier. And still there was no belying the sense of grief Lianae noted amongst these folk, for there was not a dry eye amidst the lot. Some wept openly, disconsolately. Others were more stoic, but with bloodstained eyes, that gave lie to their quiet sorrow. And yet surrounded by heart-rent people, she had never felt more alone.

  Who would weep for her once she was gone?

  Ewen and Graeme were very likely already dead, and at the moment, she felt the loss of hope most acutely. She had no proof either of her brothers had survived the battle at Stracathro in Forfarshire. Elspeth was gone. Her mother, gone. Her father, gone. Her brother Lulach, for all intents and purposes, he was gone as well.

  Lianae stood alone, watching the fire burn, mesmerized by the leaping flames, as inch by inch, the hillside gave birth to dozens of campfires.

  From the instant they’d arrived in the vale, there had been an air of apprehension amidst the people of this sleepy village, and now that David had marched into the vale with five hundred armed men, a hush fell over the kindred.

  They were hiding something, but Lianae didn’t know what—and, still, even if she’d known, she would never tell David aught, for she had more in common with her husband’s kinfolk than she did with the Scots. Like the Moraymen, these dún Scoti people were now in danger of being extinguished like a candle swallowed by a dark night.

  David mac Maíl Chaluim was on the verge of uniting all the clans, but in the process, their legacies would all be lost. Rather than be bolstered by the sight of them, the king’s army felt more like an infestation upon the land—a plague of Scots, with drunken, overloud voices that disrespected the dún Scoti dead. And in the midst of them all stood the king’s tent, an elaborate silken edifice striped in gold and red. For all that Lianae felt like an outsider, she knew instinctively that whatever it was that these people were holding close to their vests, it was not something they cared to share with the King of Scotia.

  But for so long, she had considered David to be her enemy. It was by his command her father was butchered. And yet… if the king had sensed she’d been lying about Keane, he had nevertheless shown her a kindness by not returning her to the Earl—a judgment he mi
ght have found justified, for William fitz Duncan was not a man anyone wished to cross. Instead he’d given her to a man who, Lianae had since learned, was not entirely David’s ally. According to Keane’s sister Cailin, who claimed to know Keane best, her husband had donned the king’s livery as a matter of circumstance. Cailin was equally as certain he would never have accepted a gift of land and title—unless he believed there to be a greater cause.

  It was that greater cause that had Lianae thinking now, although she didn’t fool herself to believe it could be love. She was so deep in thought, considering what it might be that might motivate Keane to wed her, that she didn’t hear anyone approach.

  She started at the sound of a female voice. “There are so many,” Aidan’s wife said and Lianae had no need to ask what she meant… it was the king’s men she referred to—the endless campfires winking amidst the dark night.

  Lianae turned to smile at the woman who’d wed Keane’s elder brother. She was childless at the instant, though it was the first time since their arrival at Dubhtolargg that Lianae had seen her without her newborn babe in her arms.

  “The babe is sleeping?”

  She was lovely, with dark chestnut hair and stark violet eyes that seemed to peer straight into Lianae’s soul. “Aye, at last. The hour has grown late.”

  Lianae turned to look over the hillside. “I was… waiting,” she confessed, but she didn’t wish to say for what.

  For her husband to forgive her, in truth.

  “Of course,” the woman said. “You are newly wed.”

  Lianae blushed hotly. “Oh, nay,” she protested. “It isna like that.”

  But it was. Whether her husband would bed her or nay, she had no desire to spend the night alone in the little cottage they had been assigned. She was driven to seek him, even if she didn’t know why. He was her touchstone now—her center.

  Keane was all that remained to make sense of her world. She had no one but him, and as angry as he was with her, she still trusted him to keep her safe.

  The woman’s eyes twinkled as she studied Lianae, as though she knew something Lianae did not. But then she couldn’t know that Keane wanted naught to do with her, and rightly so, for Lianae had bungled everything so very thoroughly.

  But what would she have done differently if she could?

  Certainly not return to the Earl.

  Never that.

  Naught, Lianae realized sadly. She would do naught differently, for if she had played her hand any differently at all, the king may have well returned her to the Earl. She swallowed her grief over the truth and stood, hugging herself against the chill of the night, staring out into the hills.

  “He is quite pleased with your marriage,” the laird’s wife remarked.

  Lianae’s gaze snapped to the woman’s face. At first, she thought it must be a question, because it certainly couldn’t be true. “Keane?” she asked, thinking she must be mistaken.

  She nodded, and long moments passed where Lianae simply didn’t know how or what to respond. She opened her mouth to speak and closed it again.

  “I ken what ’tis like to be torn between worlds,” the woman said, surprising Lianae with the insight.

  There was an air of familiarity between them already, though it wasn’t an affiliation Lianae could readily explain. She’d felt the same kinship with Kenna, and a little bit from Lael. But not a one of them must realize what Lianae had done… or they, too, would despise her as surely as Keane did.

  “When I first came to Dubhtolargg,” she confessed. “I wondered how the fates would allow that I should wed the man whose people cursed my very existence.”

  “Aidan?” Lianae asked with surprise.

  She smiled. “Aye, ’tis true. My husband’s people loathed me once upon a time. In fact, it was Una herself who cast me the evil eye. Perhaps you’ve heard of the Caimbeul’s curse?”

  Lianae’s eyes widened. Even in the north, they’d heard the stories of how the mountain folk cursed the Caimbeul’s daughter for his sins. This, then, was Lìleas MacLaren.

  Lianae’s gaze slid to the bier. “Una was the one?”

  Lìleas’s throat constricted visibly. “The very one.”

  “And still you mourn her loss?”

  Lìleas’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “More than words can say. You are a daughter of Óengus, so they say?”

  Lianae nodded. “Aye, but he is now gone… along with my mother and my sister… I am alone.”

  “Nay,” Lìleas contended. “Not so long as you have us. We are your family now, Lianae. The dún Scoti men are loyal to a fault and I tell you now that if Keane loves you truly, you will want for naught as long as he remains at your side.”

  Lianae said naught to that, unable to reveal the things she’d already done to put their marriage asunder. Feeling glum, she turned to stare out over the hillside, at the dozens and dozens of twinkling fires… like stars that fell to earth.

  Both women stood in perfect silence. After a time, Lìleas spoke again. “I will share with you what Una once told me when I needed to hear it most. She said, ‘Trust your instincts, and whatever ye do, do it with all your soul.’ I sense you will need this advice in the days to come, Lianae.”

  Willing away tears, Lianae turned to blink at her.

  “Be true to your heart, not so much your head,” Lìleas offered with a smile, and there was something about her violet eyes that made Lianae want to believe.

  And then she turned to find Keane standing behind her, and her heart ceased to beat…

  Chapter 22

  Faced with his brother’s challenge, Keane spoke the words as a matter of consequence, though now he feared they must be true.

  For all that he’d pined for it, he didn’t give a damn about Lilidbrugh anymore, or Dunràth for that matter. Lilidbrugh was but a broken link to their past, a long forgotten symbol of the history of his clan. Lianae was his future… wherever it should lead.

  But could it be love if there be no trust?

  Nevertheless… it was past time to put their trials behind them. For better or worse, Lianae was his wife now and he must find a way to learn to trust the woman he intended to love.

  Lìleas spoke first. “We were marveling over the sight of so many…”

  “Outliers?” Keane said, finishing for his brother’s wife.

  They both shared a private look that conveyed so much—things that Lianae would never know, things he could not trust her enough to reveal.

  Lìli crossed her arms against the chill. “Would ye e’er have imagined Aidan would allow it?”

  “Not in a thousand years.”

  But of course, they no longer had the Stone of Destiny to defend. What did it matter who came to the vale now that the Stone was out of their hands?

  Lìli eyed them both, and sensing Keane had not come for idle chatter, she excused herself at once. “By your leave,” she said. “I am certain you two have much to discuss.” And without awaiting Keane’s reply, she made her way back toward the crannóg, where Aidan and her children awaited her. For a long uncomfortable moment, Keane watched his brother’s wife walk away, feeling the weight of the world descend upon him.

  Not only was the Stone of Destiny gone—the entire purpose of their clan’s existence for more than two centuries—he had come to bury the woman who’d raised him from birth. And if that were not enough, his wife was a liar—and she had nearly cost him his life. After all that had been said and done, it wasn’t easy to overlook his wounded pride. Still, he held out a hand, inviting Lianae to take it. “Come,” he demanded.

  For a moment, she merely stared at him, and then she reached out, and her touch was like a bolt of lightning to Keane’s heart.

  It was an arrogantly worded command, but Lianae recognized his vulnerability in that moment and swallowed her complaint, giving him her hand. Without a word, he pulled her gently along, away from the beach and the bonfire. Along the way, they passed his sister Cailin speaking low with Cameron in the shadow
s.

  The night air held an unmistakable chill, but the heat emanating from Keane’s hand made her palm sweat. Doves flew amuck inside her breast. “I suppose ’tis good to see your people, even if the circumstances aren’t supreme?”

  Keane nodded, though he didn’t elaborate and Lianae found herself craving knowledge about the man she had wed. Marveling at the great size of his hand, she imagined him as a child. “You and your brother Aidan are close?”

  “Aye,” he said, and fell to silence once more. The overwhelming sound of it squeezed Lianae’s heart. Was this how it was to be between them now? She missed his easy banter—and even the haughty curve of his beautiful smile.

  They neared the cottage they’d been assigned and Lianae struggled to keep up. “Una was much loved?” she asked, scrambling more for words than she did to keep the pace.

  He squeezed her hand almost imperceptibly, as though he meant for her to hush. “She was.”

  Ach! Lianae would do anything to change what she had done—anything save give herself to William fitz Duncan. Forsooth, but she could not find any regret for that—not when her lies had garnered her this… But what was this? she berated herself.

  And where was he taking her now?

  There was something different in Keane’s demeanor tonight, and it gave her a terrible flutter of anticipation as they neared the cottage they’d been assigned.

  Struggling to keep up with his long, hurried strides, Lianae scrambled for something more to say that would help mend their wounds. “Well, I am sorry for your loss, Keane.”

  “As am I. She was like a mother to me,” he said, and he changed the topic almost at once. “You are still favoring your left foot, Lianae.”

  Without warning, Keane swept her up into his arms, hushing her so easily. She could scarce breathe much less talk as he bore her into the cottage, across the threshold, and then another few short steps to the bed.

  Inside, the cottage was warm and cozy. Lianae had left the fire burning in anticipation of their return. They had ridden long hours and she had arrived weary and ready to repose.