Charming the Highlander Laird_Highland Warrior_Scottish Medieval Romance

by Verlin Underwood

  There were a few cats that wandered around Dunaid, helping to control the rat population, but there was one tabby in particular that Tara had grown attached to. She would follow Tara around the castle like a puppy and enjoyed being around her so much that she would even curl up in Tara’s bed every night. Tara imagined holding the tabby cat, seeing her gray and brown stripes across her chest and her spotted belly. The cat’s eyes were golden-green, and her nose was pink.

  Tara opened her eyes. She was still sitting on her bed, but now it was quite massive. Indeed, the entire room seemed to be twice— if not more—the size it had been. Tara looked down at her feet, which were now furry paws. She craned her neck around and stared at her long tail. Her ear twitched.

  Tara let out a meow of delight, startling herself. She’d done it! It had been so simple; she didn’t know why she’d worried about it so much and held off trying.

  She jumped nimbly off the bed and walked over to the door. Nudging it open with her nose, she slipped outside into the hallway. People took no notice of her, save when they were trying to avoid tripping over her. Her large ears picked up even the softest of whispers. A perfect way to spy upon someone, Tara thought.

  She continued to walk along the railing that overlooked the tavern below and sat down to groom her paws. Her ears perked when she heard a familiar voice. Ealair. She poked her head through the railing and saw him sitting with a group of men over tankards of ale.

  “Ach, I’m just here as a guard, watching over a lady while she does business here in Haddington.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” one man said. “I’m sure there are certain benefits involved in that kind of work, if you catch my meanin’.”

  “Aye, I get ya. I’m just doin’ this because her brother is rich an’ pays me handsomely. I have no interest in the lass.”

  Was Ealair telling the truth? Or was he lying to these men? Could it be that her leannan sith magic only lasted when she was in direct contact with men? How would she ever know?

  “I hear tell that she is a fairy that puts spells on men to do her biddin’,” Ealair went on, obviously inebriated.

  Oh, no!

  Tara jumped up on the balcony railing and, using her paw, swiped at a potted plant, causing it to land loudly on the table.

  “What in the hell was that?”

  “A bleedin’ cat, is what.”

  “That could’ve landed on me head!”

  Good. She’d distracted Ealair for now. Later, she would have to formally dismiss him. She ran back to her room and changed into her human form. She hung her head in her hands and groaned.

  Perhaps Ealair was only bitter at her rejection and looking to seek revenge. Tara shook her head. This trip was proving to create more questions than answers.

  Chapter 10

  The weather didn’t improve for the rest of the week, but Tara took that time to practice her shapeshifting magic. Firstly, though, she wrote a letter to her brother outlining what she had overheard in the tavern, how Ealair had told the family secrets and dishonored the Maxwell name. Adam sent a quick letter back telling her that Ealair would be relieved of his duty and to show him the letter himself for his understanding.

  Ealair was shocked as he read the letter. “How did you hear that?” he asked her. “No, never mind. I don’t want to know what you uncanny people do.”

  “Ealair, did you really care for me? Is this why you betrayed me?”

  Ealair gave her a dark look. “I wish you the best of luck.” He turned around and left.

  Tara stood there for a moment, feeling mixed emotions, but she knew she had done the right thing. He was disloyal to the Maxwells, so he had to leave. Perhaps she would never know what truly happened to make him act that way.

  Later that day, she saw him with his bag, leaving the tavern. Tara wondered if it was wise for Adam to want him to leave immediately. Who knew if he would tell others about the Maxwells? Hopefully, nothing would come of it.

  After Ealair left, Tara tried to concentrate once again on her studies. So she was able to turn into a cat, but what about something larger, like a lion? Her mother would be no match for her if she were to change into a large beast with massive claws and sharp teeth. But try as she might, she couldn’t change into anything feline but a common house cat. Perhaps she could only change into animals she had seen before.

  If so, that was a bit of a disappointment. What was the largest animal she had seen in Scotia? Ach, if only she had seen a wolf with her own eyes. Nellie had told her tales of wolves taking siege of her parents’ castle. They seemed like ferocious beasts, indeed.

  Perhaps she was a bit weary from trying so much. She thought of Colin and Baldric. She hadn’t seen them once the storm began, not even in the tavern to get food and drink. She began to worry for them, although she assumed that perhaps they had moved on somewhere else in Haddington.

  Tara went downstairs and asked the barkeep what room they were staying in, saying that they were friends. The barkeep gave her the number, and she knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” The voice sounded weak and tired, but she recognized that it was Colin.

  “Tara,” she replied.

  A light pounding of feet came to the door. Baldric opened it slowly and peered at her. “It’s her!” he said to Colin happily.

  “Tara,” she heard Colin say. “I’m sick with the ague, so perhaps it wouldn’t be wise to come in to visit me at this state.”

  “Oh, dear, I’m sorry to hear that,” Tara said through the tiny crack of the door. She had heard many patrons cough and sneeze, and she had hoped she wouldn’t catch anything from them. “Would you like anything?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “I would like something,” Baldric asked hopefully.

  “Want some stew?”

  “Aye.”

  She got food for the both of them and came back upstairs. Baldric let her in, and she clucked her tongue in sympathy at poor Colin, pale and bedridden.

  “My brother is great at the healing arts and advises that a sick person should take in as much fluids as possible,” she told him.

  “Does ale count?” Colin asked miserably.

  “I wouldn’t think so. Here, can you sit up?” She rested the tray of food on his lap. “I certainly hope you weren’t letting Baldric starve here while you moan and groan in bed.”

  “I’m not moaning and groaning,” he insisted, then noticed Tara was laughing. “Of course, I didn’t let him starve. I ordered food up here. It is I who doesn’t have an appetite.”

  “Well, at least try to get some of this food down. I reckon it would make you feel better.” She watched in approval as he swallowed a few mouthfuls. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m actually one room away from you, so all you have to do is knock on the wall.”

  She spent the remainder of the day in her room. Tara figured it was perhaps a good thing that he didn’t knock on the wall for the rest of the day, but she still wanted him to. She liked the feeling of taking care of him. It took her mind off of her worries.

  The following day, the sun finally began to peek through the clouds. Tara breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, she could have a chance to go outside and perhaps speak to Rhona a bit. After grabbing some food at the tavern, she stopped by Colin’s room and knocked on the door.

  “It’s Tara,” she called out again. Baldric opened the door and let her in.

  Colin seemed healthier today than yesterday but still a bit tired. Baldric, however, seemed restless. It would probably do him good to get outside in the fresh air.

  “If you don’t mind, I have some errands to run an’ would be able to take Baldric with me. He seems to want to go outside and stretch his legs a bit.”

  “Yes, that would probably be good. Thank you.” He was pressing his fingers against his temple like his head hurt.

  “We won’t be too long. Try to eat, will you?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Oh, don’t you be ca
llin’ me that!” She began laughing. Although, she did like hearing how he said it with his accent.

  “My apologies. Years of habit,” he explained and began eating.

  “Well, we’re friends, so no need for formalities.”

  “Oh, friends, are we? I was thinking this was something more.”

  “Really!” Tara looked at him, shocked. The smile on his face turned into a wide grin. “Oh, you’re terrible.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Go eat your food.”

  Tara was glad he lowered his head down toward his food, for she was blushing from her neck to the top of her head. “C’mon, Baldric. Let’s get goin’, shall we? Do you have a coat?”

  “Yes, Tara.” He grabbed an adorably tiny cloak and draped it over his shoulders, latching it with a small wooden button. The inside was lined with soft fur, perhaps a rabbit’s. She would have to remember to find similar cloaks for Nellie’s children. They would be useful for the cold Scottish winter.

  “And here’s your blanket from the other day,” Baldric said, pointing to her breacan that lay across a chair.

  “It’s called a breacan,” she told him, putting it around her shoulders. “But aye, it’s verra much like a blanket. Come along.”

  Tara reached for his hand and led him out the room. The streets were still dampened from the rain. The high winds had toppled a few trees and debris was scattered across the roads. Some buildings looked almost completely destroyed, now only piles of wood and splinters. Many buildings looked flooded out, but, thankfully, most still stood. It was a miracle that the inn was spared, with only minimal damage having been done to the roof.

  “Where are we goin’?” Baldric asked her. “Are we gonna play first? Why do so many people look so sad?”

  “I wanted to stop by Rhona’s church first,” she told him. “Have you been learnin’ much about your magic?” Tara wanted to keep his mind away from the destruction about them and didn’t want to answer his last question.

  Baldric shook his head. “Not really. My da has been readin’ to me a little bit. How ‘bout you?”

  “A little bit,” she admitted. “There’s a lot to learn, though, isn’t there?”

  Baldric nodded, the act a bit sagely for a four-year-old. They walked down to the east side of Haddington and through the alley toward the church. The cobblestone street was even worse. The River Tyne must’ve flooded drastically some time during the week, and the winds had been no help at all.

  They rounded the corner toward the church, and Tara stopped dead in her tracks.

  The church was destroyed.

  The buildings surrounding the church stood intact, but it looked as though the church had caved in on itself. The ground was still flooded. Hundreds of books floated in the waters, the ink bleeding into the water, but there were no signs of life.

  “Oh no,” she whispered, her hand coming to her mouth in shock.

  “Is Rhona all right?” Baldric asked worriedly.

  Tara led him away down the street and forced herself to take a few deep breaths. As mad as the old woman was, Tara believed that Rhona was also very smart. She probably would have sought higher ground. She hoped she did, and she hoped all her students had found some way of escaping.

  It was not something she wanted Baldric to worry about. Even though he had powerful fairy blood, he was still only four, and she didn’t want him to be traumatized.

  “I believe she will be fine, Baldric. Why don’t we find a spot to play with your knights a bit? Perhaps there will be a dry spot over by the town square. The grass may be too wet for the time being.”

  As she sat on a cold, stone bench, watching Baldric play with his toys, Tara realized that she was completely on her own now in learning her magic.

  Chapter 11

  Colin couldn’t remember the last time he was ill. Even with Baldric always sick, as was usual among small children, he never once caught it. It frustrated him that this seemingly simple ague would make him bedridden for longer than a week.

  However, he was grateful for Tara’s help. It was kind of her to take Baldric out into town to play. It was beyond stifling for the boy to be trapped in the same room as him, and he didn’t want Baldric to catch whatever he had.

  For the next few days, Tara came in every morning to give them food and take Baldric out on the town. Colin looked forward to it every morning, just as much as Baldric did. In a twisted way, he wanted to remain sick if it meant she would come by to visit him. But he had to remind himself that it probably wasn’t him she was interested in. She had taken a liking to the boy. He was a sweet lad, so he could hardly fault her.

  Colin lost count of how many days went by before he regained his strength. The storm had passed, and he was grateful for the stream of sunlight that shone through his windows. After Tara and Baldric left for the day, he deemed himself strong enough to walk downstairs to the tavern and get himself a mid-morning meal.

  Firstly, he ordered a maid to bring up a washing basin, and he cleaned himself up a bit. Shaving his face, he felt more human than he had in a very long time.

  After spending so much time in the inn, he had begun to recognize most of the usual patrons, but today the tavern seemed to be filled with new faces, mostly men. Most chairs were taken, save for one in between hard-looking men armed with swords. He made sure his own sword was still strapped securely to his waist before he spoke.

  “May I sit here?” he asked them.

  “Oy, another Englishman,” the man closest to him said. He had dark hair and a bushy beard that came down almost to his chest. “Of course, you can sit with us.” He gave him a tankard and called for another one as a barmaid walked by.

  “I’ll have some stew, too,” Colin called after her.

  “What part of England are you from, mate?” asked the other man sitting across from him. All eyes at the table were turned toward him.

  Immediately, Colin felt uneasy. Why were there so many Englishmen here at the inn? Were these men sent by his brother to search for him? Why then would they act so jovial in his company?

  Colin kept his guard up and decided to lie. “I’m from a small hamlet near London,” he told them. “I’m a merchant. I make the rounds up to Scotia and back down to London until I sell off my stock of wool.”

  “Ha, good one! Didn’t that Scot Douglas use the exact same tactic to take over Edinburgh Castle? Now we can give those sots a taste of their own medicine.”

  Colin paled. Were these men planning to invade Scotia?

  The man sitting next to him gave him a nudge with his shoulder. “We’re a long way from home, aren’t we? It’s mighty boring up here.”

  “Aye, but at least it’s not for long,” another man added.

  Colin took a sip of ale to help calm his shaking hands. The barmaid swooped by and set a bowl of stew in front of him. He picked up his spoon and shoveled the stew in his mouth, although his stomach revolted.

  “So when do we start?” he asked them, hoping that it was the right question to ask.

  “You’ve been hitting the ale a bit hard, mate?” The man leaned closer. “Why, King Edward is just around the bend with more of his soldiers. He’s decided to go ahead and attack tonight.”

  Colin pushed the food away from him. Any minuscule appetite he had was now long gone. Attack tonight? Dear God, he had to get Baldric out of Haddington.

  He chose his next words carefully. “So are we starting with Haddington first? I was a little late coming up here and missed some of the briefings, unfortunately.”

  “The King is going to raze all of Lothian to the ground,” the first man said with glee in his voice. “He’s already started down south and has been making his way up. I heard that he’ll be here tonight, perhaps earlier, so we were told by our commander to remain at the ready.”

  “Yeah,” the other man said. “We figured we would have one last drink before all of the inns in Scotia are decimated.”

  “It’s about time,” the first man said. �
��This is what it’s going to take for the king to finally take over Scotia and end the reign of these northern barbarians. Long live King Edward the Third!”

  “Long live King Edward the Third,” Colin repeated with the rest of the table, thrusting his tankard up into the air as a salute. But why wish for the longevity of a man who would kill innocent people like that? He had to find Tara and Baldric.

  He scooted his chair back. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” he told them. “I assume I’ll be seeing you later. Best of luck to all of you.” He laid a few coins on the bar table next to his barely-eaten food and tried his best not to sprint out of the tavern.

  He stepped out into the streets of Haddington and looked around. There was some extensive damage from the storm, but to an unknowing eye, the people in the streets looked the same as they’d always been, going about their day.

  Now, with his new knowledge, he saw that these people were not quite what they seemed. The beggar on the street almost definitely had a sword hidden under the folds of his cloak. The priest with a hunchback that walked slowly down the street quite possibly had an axe strapped to his back. How long had they been in Haddington, finding the weak spots, biding their time until the king gave them the go-ahead to burn the place to the ground?

  He rubbed his hands on his temples, trying to remember where Tara said she was going to take Baldric. Ah, yes. Today she was taking him shopping for sweets. They were probably in the downtown area, where most of the shops were, and where most of the people in the town congregated. That was where he spent a few days selling his wool to make some of the money he lost when the brigands stopped them.

  He jogged down the road and, when he made it to the street, saw them. Tara was purchasing sweet cakes and had handed them to Baldric, completely oblivious to the danger at hand. Colin heard a whistle to his right that came from no bird. He shot his head around as an answering whistle came to his left.