Royden got another glimpse of what it had been like for Oria the years following the attack. She had not forgotten his clan. She had made sure to visit here and tend those in need.
“I wish I could have been here when my son was born, but from what my Sara said, Mistress Oria got her through it and delivered little Stuart without a problem. She’s a good woman. Your wife couldn’t be in better hands,” Stuart said. “Now get moving and stack those stones close. We want a good, strong shelter for our food this winter.”
Royden worked side by side with his men, though he kept a silent tongue while they kept Penn occupied with talk. He thought on his wife and how she had never deserted his clan. She had seen to visiting his clan regularly and tending to those in need, in spite of entering the enemy’s camp each time she did. He had always known Oria was a good woman, but he never realized how brave of a woman she was, and he wondered what else he had failed to see about her.
The men had half the hut built when Sara rushed out of the cottage and ran past them, Penn ready to pounce on her if she hadn’t waved him off.
“All is good. I’m off to get a brew Oria wants made,” Sara said, not breaking her fast stride.
Penn’s whole body deflated, his shoulders slumping as he turned an anxious look at his cottage.
Innis practically knocked Penn off his feet when he smacked him on the back. “She’ll be fine, lad. We men are made to plant the seed and the women are made to nurture and harvest it.” He gave a hardy laugh. “After that it’s anybody’s guess what you do with it.”
“You got that right,” Stuart said, joining in the laughter as he looked at his young son drawing with a stick in the dirt.
“And if you’re lucky,” Innis said with a wink. “You’ll get a wife who lets you plant your seed often.”
Stuart grinned wide. “I’m a lucky man.”
Innis grinned as well. “Five sons prove that I’m a lucky man.”
“I’m sure our chieftain is as well and we’ll be hearing about an heir to the Clan MacKinnon soon,” Stuart boasted with pride that they had a leader who would see that the Clan MacKinnon would live on.
It hit Royden then that he had an obligation to his clan to see that Oria got with child. His clansmen wanted to know that what their clan had endured had been worth it. That the lives lost and all the suffering hadn’t defeated the Clan MacKinnon. It had remained strong through it all and would rise once again a prominent and triumphant clan.
His da would expect him to tend to his obligations at all cost just as he had done when he’d been chieftain. Arran would expect it as well. And he had been seeing to his duties since his return home—all but one.
He joined Penn, his glance going to the cottage, his thoughts on his wife and how it would feel to make love with her. He turned away suddenly a memory rising to torment him. He could see it clearly as if he were there in the middle of it, reliving it all over again. He stood in a field, dead warriors all around him, blood covering him and dripping off his sword. And the odor, the horrible stench of battle that forever invaded his senses.
“Royden. Royden.”
He heard his name, but didn’t want to turn, didn’t want to be told it was time to collect the weapons from the dead and look into the lifeless faces of all those warriors who had fought so heroically.
“Royden, we need help with a heavy stone.”
He wanted to bless Stuart for pulling him out of the horrendous memory, and he turned.
Stuart nodded and kept his voice low. “The memories are the worst. They eat at your soul.”
Royden nodded, though wondered if he had a soul left.
The hut was half finished when the men stopped, hearing Penn’s name shouted.
Penn dropped the heavy stone he held, barely missing his foot, and ran. Royden followed at a slower pace. He changed his pace when he caught sight of his wife, her hair falling loose of its combs and the shine gone from her lovely eyes.
“Please. Please, I beg of you to tell me my wife and child are safe,” Penn pleaded when he looked upon Oria.
Oria smiled. “I appear worn out because your son was a stubborn one, but your wife remained brave and she and your son are doing well. Come and see for yourself.” She stepped aside for Penn to enter and before she could shut the door Royden sneaked past her.
Emily was sitting up in bed, smiling, her cheeks flushed red, and a swaddled bundle in her arms. “Come, Penn, and see your son.”
Penn hurried to her and looked about to collapse, plopping down beside her on the bed. “I didn’t think I would survive this birth.”
Emily laughed. “I felt the same, but Oria convinced me I was strong and that I should let our son know who was in charge.”
Penn peered over at the bundle, Emily easing back the blanket for her husband to have a look. “He’s bigger than I thought he’d be.”
“Oria thinks I miscalculated and he was born when he was supposed to be,” Emily explained.
“He’s a fine looking lad,” Penn beamed with pride as his son’s small mouth opened in a large yawn. “And a tired one too.”
“He exhausted us both,” Emily said, joy taking precedence over tiredness.
“We’ll leave you now so you may enjoy your newly born son,” Oria said. “Sara, Calla, and I will stop by over the next few days to help you with whatever you need, and I will have Bethany send food to you until you feel well enough to see to your own cooking.”
“You are most generous, Mistress Oria,” Penn said, turning to look at her.
“We take care of family, Penn,” Oria said. “I’m sure my husband will agree and command you to spend the remainder of the day with your wife and son.”
“I am lucky to have a wife who knows me so well. You can resume your chores tomorrow,” Royden said. “And congratulations, Penn, on the birth of a fine son.”
“Thank you, sir, and I can’t thank you enough for your kind generosity,” Penn said.
“I told you the Clan MacKinnon is a loyal and decent clan who never fail to look out for one another. That was why Oria helped us so much through the last few years. Though fate stole her wedding day from her, she was still part of the Clan MacKinnon and she never forgot it,” Emily said, tears filling her eyes. “We’re proud she’s finally where she belongs, wife to Chieftain Royden and Mistress of the Clan MacKinnon.” Emily lifted her arm, holding the bairn up. “Chieftain Royden, please come and see the first Clan MacKinnon clansmen born since your return home.”
Royden walked over and peered down at the bairn. He was so small and yet he would grow into manhood as all lads do, and it was his responsibility to make certain he had a good and powerful clan to call family. And to produce a fine lad of his own to keep the MacKinnon clan strong.
“He is a fine bairn. You should be proud, Penn,” Royden said.
“I am, sir,” Penn said with a gleeful smile.
Oria and Royden left the cottage, Calla and Sara leaving shortly after them.
“You look tired,” Royden said and took her hand as he used to do so often and instinctively. His fingers closed around hers and he felt a catch to his gut when her fingers gripped his, welcoming the clasp of his hand.
“I admit I was worried about mother and child,” she said, relieved to voice her doubt.
“But it worked well,” Royden reminded.
“Much better than I feared it would,” she said with a sigh and rested her head on Royden’s shoulder for a moment as they continued walking to the keep.
He’d never found himself at a loss of words with Oria, but at the moment he didn’t know what to say since there was so much that needed to be said between them. Now was not the time, though. She was tired and no good would come of a discussion.
He thought of safer ground to be discussed, and said, “I received word on Arran.”
She gasped and tugged at his hand. “Tell me. Is he well? Is he coming home?”
“Aye to all from what the leper told me.”
“Leper?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him.
“A leper arrived here shortly after we spoke and delivered a message from Arran, letting me know he’d be home in a month or more.”
“Why so long?”
“He has a matter that needs his attention?” Royden said.
“What matter?”
“The leper didn’t say, though from what he did say I surmised it has to do with Raven,” Royden said.
Concern sprang to her eyes and voice. “Any idea what that may be?”
“No, the leper gave no indication of any more information and I don’t believe Arran would have offered any more in fear of not knowing if it would bring harm to Raven. My greatest hope is that when Arran returns home, he has Raven with him.”
Oria hated keeping things from her husband, but she had made a promise. Though, part of the promise was no longer necessary. Unfortunately, both parts were connected. She had to find a way to slip into the woods and at least bring relief to one of his worries.
“You say a leper brought you this information?” Oria asked.
“Aye, he camps in the woods by the tangled tree for no more than two days. Does it bother you that I allowed him to rest here?” he asked, seeing a troubled look on her face.
“No, not at all. The poor man should have a safe place to rest. I just wonder…” She tilted her head and her brow scrunched as she looked upon him. “There was a leper who often stopped at Learmonth on his way to the Stitchill Monastery. He and Burnell would talk. I met him only once. His name is Noble, Brother Noble. I wonder if it is him.”
“Odd that he travels the roads? He’d be safer and well cared for if he remained at the monastery.”
“Gossip suggests he carries messages between the different monasteries. Another is that he searches for the witch healer in the hope that she will cure him.”
“I recall the day the witch spoke to my sister and frightened her with her prediction of troublesome times and a long separation before our family would be reunited. Her prophecy has been accurate thus far. Has anymore ever been heard from the witch?”
It hurt her to continue to lie to him, but until she could be sure it was safe to break her promise, she had no choice. Though, she phrased it so it was no lie. “No more prophecies that I recall hearing.”
“I wonder if Brother Noble ever found the witch and found she was no help to him.”
“Some say she covers her home with a spell that keeps it invisible to all, except the ones she allows to see it,” Oria said.
“That’s nonsense. You can’t believe that,” Royden said. “The woods stretch far and wide. There are areas I have yet to explore or even wish to explore. She simply makes her home where few, if any at all travel. I think I will ask him if he’s run across the witch.”
“I’ll go with you,” Oria was quick to say.
“No, I’ll not have you go near the leper,” Royden commanded. “You’ll go to your bedchamber and rest. And don’t waste your breath in protest. You will do as I say.” He released her hand. “Now go.”
“Royden.”
He turned to see Angus there.
“You’re needed in the field to settle a dispute that can’t wait,” Angus said.
Royden turned back to Oria and raised a finger at her. “Go in the keep and stay there until I return and don’t dare disobey me.”
Oria grew annoyed that he walked off and was so confident that she wouldn’t defy his order that he didn’t even turn around to make sure she continued on to the keep. She waited until he was nearly out of sight, then turned and hurried toward the woods.
Chapter 10
Oria stopped at the edge of the woods and shook her head. She was acting like a petulant child defying a parent. Royden was her husband, and while it was considered a wife’s duty to obey her husband, her marriage to Burnell had taught her otherwise.
Burnell had allowed her to choose for herself, and he had made it clear that if anything troubled her she was to talk with him about it. He couldn’t always promise things would work out as she wanted, but he would do his best to see that she understood why.
Refuse to look at a problem reasonably and you will never solve it, Burnell’s words reminded.
Defying her husband’s order would not solve his commanding attitude. She turned to go to the keep and stopped abruptly. Her husband stood not far from her, his arms folded across his chest and a stern look that far from marred his fine features.
She smiled seeing him there, his stance impressive. “So you didn’t trust me to do as told.”
“It hasn’t taken long to learn that some qualities you once possessed vanished with the years. Besides, there is a defiance in your eyes when you intend to do as you like, a new trait I’ve discovered in you.”
Now there was something she’d be wise to remember.
“You’re observant,” Oria said, another thing she’d be wise to remember. “What of the matter you were needed to settle?”
“I gave Angus clear instructions that would settle it fast enough. What kept you from defying me?”
“Common sense,” she said and walked over to him, stretching her hand out to him. She was pleased he didn’t hesitate to take it and was even more pleased when the strength of his hand closed around hers. “Your command was out of concern for me and it would have been rude of me to ignore it.”
“I will not lose you again,” he said, though it was more a command that warned of an unseen foe. “Even though you’ve become pig-headed.”
His remark not only touched her heart, it made her laugh. “We shall make a good couple—me pig-headed and you commanding and grumpy.”
He grunted rather than argued since she was partially right.
“Since you don’t have to rush off, why don’t we go see if the leper is Brother Noble?”
“It is me, Lady Oria.”
Both Oria and Royden turned to see the leper keeping himself tucked behind a tree, his hood barely visible.
Nonetheless, Royden took no chance, he tucked his wife behind him.
“My condolences at the loss of your husband, my lady. I will pray for his soul.” Brother Noble said.
“You were ordered to remain where you were told,” Royden reprimanded.
Oria stepped out from behind her husband, but his arm shot out blocking her from going any farther. “Thank you, Brother Noble, that is kind of you.”
“She is no longer Lady Oria, she is Mistress Oria, my wife,” Royden informed him.
“My congratulations. It is good to know you are well looked after.”
“What brings you so close to the keep?” Royden demanded.
His wife pushed at his arm to move past him.
“You’ll stay put and hold your tongue,” he whispered tersely.
“I am quite rested and wish to move on. I came hoping to get the food you offered so I can be on my way.”
“I’ll have it brought to you and—”
“Please feel free to seek food and shelter here on your travels,” Oria said, her husband’s head snapping to the side to glare at her. She paid him no heed, too anxious to ask, “I heard you were looking for the witch. Did you find her?”
“I’ve been warned against it by my brothers at the monastery. They tell me the devil will take my soul if I seek the witch’s help. I wonder if the devil already hasn’t claimed it with this plague that eats my body. I have heard many stories about the witch’s power. I have heard the tale of how she healed your da, Chieftain Royden.”
“What?” Royden asked, taking several steps forward. “You say my da is alive?”
The leper coughed and his gravelly voice became more of a growl when he spoke. “A tale I heard tell. Surely you have heard it.”
“No, I haven’t heard it. Tell me this tale,” Royden demanded.
“The tale I heard was that your da was badly wounded in the wedding day battle that claimed many lives. He was thought dead, blood pouring from his chest. When the battle ended, h
is body couldn’t be found. No one knew what happened to him. Some claimed the witch dragged him away and healed him, so he owes her his soul and cannot return home.”
Royden glared with anger. “Why didn’t you tell me this when we first spoke?”
“I assumed you had already heard it. Someone in your clan must have bared witness to it or how would the tale have gotten started?” the leper said.
“I’ll see you have your food and I bid you farewell,” Royden said, making certain the leper understood he was to leave. He turned and grabbed his wife’s hand when he reached her, forcing her to walk along with him.
“You go to ask Bethany what she knows, don’t you?” Oria said, taking two strides to his one to keep up with him.
“If anyone knows anything, she would,” Royden said and approached the kitchen.
The kitchen extended off the keep and was connected by a narrow passageway. It was the busiest part of the keep, with constant food preparation going on.
Royden released her hand just before he entered through the open door. Oria came to a stop behind him and saw that all activity had come to a halt.
“Prepare a generous sack of food for the leper and leave it by the oak tree,” Royden ordered. “Bethany, I will speak to you in the Great Hall.
Bethany had had only one person to help her in the kitchen, but with Royden’s return that had changed. She now had two more people to help her and she left them to carry out his order.
Royden walked to the middle of the Great Hall, stopped, and turned his arms going across his chest. It was a purposeful stance, one meant to intimidate and Oria saw that it did just that since Bethany stood, her hands clamped so tight together that her knuckles turned white.
“Do you know about the tale of my da being alive and stuck with the witch since he owes her his soul for saving his life?” Royden asked and hearing himself thought how foolish it sounded, but tales existed in the Highlands with some ring of truth to them. That meant his da could possibly be alive.
Pledged to a Highlander Page 9
