Heart of the Highlands: The Wolf (Protectors of the Crown Book 2)

by April Holthaus

  With his feelings and thoughts conflicted, he felt out of his element. Last night was more than his physical need to touch and possess her. Emotion drove him. He’d let down his guard, and she had crept inside his heart. He cared for this woman, but knew that she was better without him.

  They rode several hours until they reached the borders of her land. As they slowed their approach, Braeden jumped down the side of the carriage and ran toward the barn. Fallon was quiet, saying few words to the guards. Rylan had noticed. He could sense that something was on her mind. She had been deep in thought the entire ride here. But whatever was bothering her, she did not seem eager to share.

  “Are ye alright?” Rylan prodded.

  “I will be,” she said, flickering away a tear.

  “Mama, mama, come quick,” Braeden hollered.

  Rylan and Fallon raced to the barn to find Leoric lying on a cot, too weak to move. Fallon’s heart dropped. Running to his side, she kneeled next to him, and put her hand to his forehead.

  “Leoric?” Fallon muttered. “Are ye alright? What happened?”

  Coughing profusely, Leoric spit into a torn piece of linen, leaving a spot of blood where it had touched his lips.

  “I did no’ want to trouble ye, Mistress. But I guess I can no’ be hiding it any longer.”

  “Hiding what, Leoric?”

  “I’ve been sick fer quite a while now, my lady. I am afraid this is the end.”

  “Dinna say that. Ye’ll be alright,” she replied, wanting to believe the lie herself, but Fallon had seen men fall ill like this before.

  After another harsh coughing fit, more blood appeared on the tattered cloth. Fallon looked to Rylan, and saw his face full of sorrow. Putting his hand on her shoulder, he gave her a sharp nod. A confirmation of what Leoric had said was true. He was dying.

  “Oh, my dearest Leoric. Ye should have told me. Ye dinna have to bear this alone.”

  “But I haven’t. Ye have been there fer me in more ways than anyone ever has. Ye have treated me well, my lady and for that, I thank ye. I have lived a good life. Tis time fer me to go.”

  “Nay,” Fallon said with a broken heart.

  Leoric had been more like a father to her than her own father. There was nothing he would not have done for her or Braeden. He was family. Wiping the sweat from his brow, she leaned forward, hearing his raspy, shallow breaths and the wheezing in his chest. He did not have long. How had she not known? She was a trained healer. She should have known. She should have recognized the signs. Now, she was losing him and there was nothing she could do. Of all the remedies she had, she alone could not stop death. Death was inevitable and no man could escape it.

  “Fallon, I think Leoric needs to save his strength,” Rylan suggested. “We should leave him to rest.”

  Turning her attention back to Leoric, she whispered, “I will check on ye soon. Come, Braeden.”

  Standing up, Fallon wrapped an arm around Rylan’s and headed toward the door, afraid that had she not used Rylan to balance her, she would have completely crumbled. Every facet of her life was beginning to fall apart. And she had never felt more alone.

  “Rylan,” Leoric called out with a weakened tone. “May I speak to ye?”

  Rylan and Fallon stopped just short of the door when Leoric called out. Looking at Rylan, she offered him a comforting smile. Releasing his arm, she crept out the door and slowly closed it behind her. Once outside, tears streamed down her face. She could not hold it in any longer. Dropping to her knees, she wept. Braeden joined her by her side.

  “It’s okay, Mama. Dinna cry,” he sadly said, as he snuggled up next to her.

  Fallon wrapped her arms around her son and held him close.

  Walking toward the cot, Rylan sat on the edge of the small bed.

  “Promise me. Promise me ye will take care of them. Take them away from here where they will be safe. Promise me,” Leoric choked out.

  “I promise,” Rylan vowed.

  The last words of a dying man often spoke of both his character and his virtue. This was a man accepting of his death, but refusing to die until his words were heard and honored. It was a promise that need not be said. Rylan would do anything to keep them safe, but he knew Leoric needed to hear the words. It was the affirmation Leoric needed to leave this world in peace.

  After a few moments of silence, Leoric was gone.

  Closing his eyes, Rylan pulled the blankets up over him. Placing his hand to the top of Leoric’s head, he whispered in hushed tones, “On the honor of my father and as a highlander, I vow to keep my promise.”

  Rylan left the barn to find both Fallon and Braeden sitting on the ground, plucking away at the grass. Their eyes were reddened and swollen.

  “Is he?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry, lass. He’s gone.”

  Unsure how to comfort her, Rylan allowed Fallon a moment alone to gather her thoughts as she brushed past him and ran into the barn. Grabbing a shovel near the barn door, Rylan went out to dig a grave. When he returned, Fallon had Leoric wrapped in shrouds. With just a look, they both knew what had to be done.

  Rylan and his men carried Leoric’s body to his grave. Lowering him into the ground, Fallon began reading scriptures from a small, leather-bound book. With her hands trembling, she said a prayer. Her voice shaky.

  “We beseech ye, oh Lord that ye take our brother into yer gracious, loving arms. Watch over him as he has watched over us. May we, who are left behind, continue to be yer servants upon this earth, so that in our hour of death ye will be merciful of our sins. Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  As Fallon finished her prayer, Rylan and his men headed back towards the house and Fallon said her final goodbyes.

  A sense of mourning filled the air with gloom and melancholy like a cold, rainy afternoon. Fallon made a short meal for the men to eat as she took her time packing for their journey. With Leoric gone, she had no reason to stay. She knew Rylan was right, though admitting it was nearly as painful.

  As the men tended to the horses, Fallon walked around her small home one last time. She and Braeden had shared many memories here over the past eight years, it was hard for her to walk away and leave it all behind. Change was not something she had grown accustom to. It was hard to say goodbye.

  “The horses are ready, lass,” Rylan said as he crept up behind her. “Are ye ready?”

  Rylan smiled but it offered little comfort. She was too numb to take notice of kind gestures.

  “As ready as I can be I suppose,” she admitted.

  Chapter 24

  For two days, they traveled north through wheat fields and grassy meadows. Cattle and deer grazed on the lands as small wildlife foraged through the plum-colored heather and tall shoots of grass looking for food. The terrain had been favorable. With few uplands and mostly open pastures they had journeyed a great distance within a few short days. With less than a days’ ride, they would soon reach the edge of the lowland border and cross into the Highlands. A place Fallon had sworn she would never return.

  Tired from travel, Fallon sat sluggishly atop her horse, her son manning the reins. As the group rode up a steep incline, a castle emerged in the distance. Its spearing towers rose from the ground like a noble beast, a sure sign of pride and intimidation. The cathedral situated along the side of the keep was just as grand and majestic. It’s perfectly squared exterior and elaborate stained-glass windows gave a storybook appearance. All that was missing was her happily ever after.

  Unlike the guarded wall Fallon had come to expect, the castle’s presence was serene and welcoming. She had never met the King, or any king for that matter, but she supposed that none had the tolerance and mercy that she so desperately needed.

  Passing through the crowded streets, they rode into the bustling courtyard and on to the stables. Eager young stable boys grabbed the reins and directed the horses towards the stalls. A smaller, copper-haired lad led Fallon’s horse to the side of a platform for her to dismount comfortably. B
raeden slid down first as Fallon followed behind.

  As Rylan dismounted, his men spoke with him in hushed tones. Rylan glanced at her from the midst of their conversation, but did not invite her to join in. Fallon watched the villagers and castle folk as they passed along the streets. A group of women dressed in proper fashion with dresses made of the finest fabrics and designs chattered away. Their hair properly braided and complexions flawless. Fallon glanced down at her dirt-stained garb and felt like a peddler at a royal function. It was clear she did not belong, and they knew it. Fallon had never felt so ashamed.

  “Do ye care fer me to escort ye inside?” Daven asked as he stepped up behind her.

  Fallon turned to Rylan. She had hoped to not leave his side, but as peering eyes glanced her way, she accepted the offer. Fallon linked her arm with his and followed him to the castle doors. At the moment of contact, Fallon felt a sense of betrayal to Rylan. It was just a short stroll, she convinced herself. Nothing more. When her skin touched his, she waited for a surge of old memories and pangs of a once broken heart to emerge, but instead of wayward wishful feelings, she felt nothing. After nearly eight years, she realized she had finally let him go. Her heart no longer belonged to the spirit of the memories they had once shared, but now belonged to another man who touched her soul.

  Walking through the castle entrance, the arched passageway was too narrow for more than a single person to traverse at one time. Walking in single file, Fallon followed Daven toward the great hall.

  The summer breeze blowing in through the open windows caused Fallon’s hair to gently sweep across her back. Gathering it in her hands, she twisted it to one side, allowing her hair to drape over her shoulder. As she walked, Fallon could feel the soreness of her hips and the tenderness in her calves from their long journey. She had never spent so much time on the back of a horse before and it was beginning to take its toll.

  As they neared the end of the passageway, light from an open door illuminated the chamber. Filing in one by one, they entered the great hall.

  The room was as massive as the bailey out front. It was immaculate. Pictures and martial décor adorned the high walls. Lamps dangled off trusses from the ceiling, and tables were covered in silver plates and jewel-studded goblets. Above the hearth was a striking wooden carving of a large deer head mounted on the mantle. Behind it, the King’s banner decorated the wall.

  Two servants huddled against the wall cleaning the ash and soot from the hearth and a small group of three women, dolled up in royal attire, stared at Fallon like wide-eyed does in a herd of deer. The three women snickered and whispered amongst themselves as Fallon stepped into the room.

  “Dinna mind the pigeons, lass,” Daven said to comfort her.

  “Why do ye call ‘em pigeons?”

  “Cause when they flock together, they can cause havoc.”

  Fallon held her head high. She could hear their jealous whispers and pouting cries. Inwardly, Fallon laughed and shook her head. She refused to care about their shallow standards.

  Fallon may not have worn fancy dresses and had servants attending to her every need, but she had something they would never have…confidence and self-worth.

  Daven escorted Fallon to a large bedchamber on the second floor of the keep. The room was nearly fit for a queen. A bed, larger than she had ever seen, was situated along the far wall facing a large stone hearth, and elaborate tapestries adorned the walls.

  Two of the castle’s servants rushed in with a tub and several buckets of steaming hot water.

  Hot water.

  Her tight muscles and sore backside welcomed the thought. Leaving a platter of fruits and cheese, they allowed her privacy to eat and bathe. With Braeden already running around the castle with the other children, Fallon took comfort in knowing he was safe. Removing her dress, she slipped into the warm bath and waited for Rylan to come for her.

  Rylan made his way to the hall where he found Ian speaking to Lairds Gneiss and Ashburn.

  “When walls fall, they will strike against the King. He is to take a leave of absence and journey to France to bring back a bonny bride,” Laird Ashburn stated.

  “When is he to leave?” Laird Gneiss questioned.

  “Within the next few days’ time. There are those within the walls tracking his movements. Whispers like birds that fly in the night. James cannae trust his own men for there are traitors among them. We must keep this to ourselves for all will be revealed in due course,” Ian replied.

  “I agree that James’ haste to find a bride at this time is unfavorable. Tis foolish to leave the throne unattended for those who would wish to claim it. What word of the clans in the north? Are they still at war? Will they no’ set aside their differences to protect their King from treason?” Laird Ashburn asked.

  “The Sutherlands have declared war against the Sinclairs, the MacKays and the MacElroys. Since I married the daughter of Magnus Sinclair, the Sutherlands have laid claim to Sinclair lands as well. They have increased their number to nearly two hundred men. I have sent my brother Leland to Sinclair Hall to retrieve my wife’s sisters and to assess the situation. I expect him within a fortnight if all goes well.”

  “These are dark times, Ian. I am afraid no one is safe,” Laird Gneiss commented.

  Upon hearing the conversation, Rylan stepped further into the room. Turning to acknowledge him, Ian’s face lit up when he saw Rylan standing beside him.

  “Ye have returned! Tis good to see ye.”

  “And ye as well. I see ye are healing well.”

  “My arm still hurts like bloody hell, but dinna tell Keira that. She will have me bedridden fer a week. Come, ye can tell me how yer journey was. We have much to discuss.”

  “We do indeed.”

  Rylan could confess anything to Ian. Ian had been his only confidant for years. Like brothers, they grew up in the same household, learned the same lessons, and even wooed the same women. But Ian was the Laird’s son and now the leader of their clan. Rylan’s loyalty to his clan was unbreakable, but he was not honor bound to them. He would fight by their side, but the war against the Sutherlands was not his fight. It wasn’t even Ian’s. The conflict between the two northern clans had started well before Ian had become Laird, and Ian was left to clean up the mess his parents had made.

  As the two of them walked down the hall to Ian’s private chamber, Rylan recounted all that had happened since he left Ian at Farquharson Castle to fight the band of Sutherland rebels that Isaac sent to ambush them. However, Ian’s interest was focused on Fallon.

  “Bringing her here was a bold move, Rylan, but a dangerous one.”

  “What do ye mean? There is no place safer in all the Highlands than here.”

  “I am no referring to her safety, but our own. Do ye know what kind of trouble she brings? She is the daughter of our enemy. With Isaac dead, his clan will retaliate. How do ye even know we can trust her? Does she even know that I am the one who killed her father? If they discover we have taken the lass…”

  “We have no’ taken her. She is our guest, no’ our prisoner. Besides, she dinna know that I know who she is. From the start, she claimed to be Fallon Montgomery. I have no reason to no’ trust her. Tis been eight years since she has seen her family. I believe she is afraid of them. I think that is why she has been hiding.”

  “I will need to speak to James about this. In the meantime, I think tis best that she continue allowing people to believe she is a Montgomery. If word gets out that she is a Sutherland, we will have bigger problems.”

  “I agree.”

  Rylan left Ian’s chamber and went in search of Fallon. On his way, Rylan collided with a group of children running down the hall, Braeden among them.

  “Hello, Rylan. This is my new friend Tomas. His father is a swordsman. Tomas was just about to show me the armory. Would ye like to come?”

  “Nay, ye carry on, but I wouldn’t be so sure I would tell yer mother where ye’ve been.”

  “She’d skin me alive!”r />
  “Are ye coming Braeden?” Tomas asked as he began skipping down the hall.

  Braeden looked at Rylan as if he was asking for permission. With a nod of his head, Braeden smiled and bolted down the hall after Tomas.

  Wee hellions.

  Climbing the stairs to the second floor, Rylan tapped on Fallon’s chamber. As she opened the door, her expression softened.

  “Come. I want to show ye something.”

  Rylan led Fallon to the stables.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Ye’ll see,” he said as they patiently waited for the stable boy to tighten a saddle on the back of one of the mares.

  Once finished, Rylan lifted Fallon onto the saddle, and mounted behind her. Keeping their destination secret, he rode out through the gates and into the woods nearby.

  They rode until nearly half past the hour, when Rylan came to an abrupt stop as they came to the ruins of an old castle. Left abandon for some time, the earth grew around it. Bright green vines crawled along the crumbling stone walls and birds made homes in the open crevices.

  “Tis beautiful, Rylan. What is this place?”

  “The ruins of Faywynne Castle. Leland and I used to play here when we were young when the late Laird Jacob and my father traveled to the King’s castle. We practically grew up here.”

  “I have ne’er seen anything like it. I could only imagine how magical it must have been.”

  “Aye. The castle fell o’er five hundred year ago. According to legend, the Norse clan that once occupied this place abandoned it and progressed north to the Highlands to be further away from their enemies.”

  “And no one rebuilt it?”

  “Nay. The land belongs to the King. I dinna e’en think he has e’er been here.”

  “Tis a shame. It’s a beautiful place. Thank ye for bringing me here.”

  “Ye are welcome. There are no’ too many places I call home or that are special to me. This is one of those few places. I like that it is kept hidden and private.”