The Seer

by Hildie McQueen

  “Not the way one hopes to find my soon to be daughter’s husband,” the Gordon said from a short distance with a chuckle. “I came to find ye and ask for yer attendance at a boar hunt. My wife asked that we remain another day as yer mother and she wish to discuss wedding plans.”

  Guiles closed his eyes and took a long breath. “I do apologize. Believe me, I would prefer hunting to feeling like this.”

  “It’s common after a night of...celebration?”

  “Yes. I was celebrating. A bit too much I’m afraid.” He found that indeed he was glad to be marrying the beautiful Fiona. If given a choice of a wife, she was the one who’d be first in his mind.

  Seeing he smiled, the laird nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. Ye will be a good match for my petulant daughter.”

  Thankfully the laird walked away. The fresh air and remaining still helped gis stomach seemed to settle some. The thudding on his temples softened while he leaned on the short wall allowing for the fresh air to fan over his heated face.

  Once time passed without incident, Guiles decided to seek out the seer before finding his bed for a few much-needed hours of sleep.

  Alasdair was glad that he could remain longer at the Sinclair keep. The main reason more muddled than most decisions he’d made in the past. In truth, he had nowhere to go. He lived a nomadic life that if he were to be honest had grown wearisome as of late.

  In recent months, he’d considered purchasing land and settling down. He had plenty of coin earned throughout the years being hired either as a seer or for his sword arm. Not having many expenses, he’d been able to keep most of what he’d made.

  For someone like him, it was best not to remain in one place too long. Already he’d lost several aunts, uncles and cousins to being burned at the stake. There were many who did not understand his gift and saw it as a form of witchcraft.

  The most dangerous people were those that asked for help or advice, only to turn around and have the seer condemned when the outcome was not what they expected or wanted.

  Just months earlier, he’d watched helplessly from a distance as flames devoured a seer he’d met once. The sounds of the man’s agonizing screams, something he’d never forget.

  Alasdair had purposely gone to witness the execution as a way to remind himself that there were consequences in divulging his gift.

  The bed at the keep was comfortable, much appreciated after long weeks of sleeping wherever he could. He slipped from under the coverings and stretched. After pouring water into a large bowl, Alasdair dunked a rag into it began to wash.

  A maid entered with fresh clothes sent by Guiles. The young woman smiled at him, her gaze moving down his chest to between his legs.

  “Would ye like my assistance?” She neared with the clothing in hand, her lips curved. “I am well practiced.”

  It seemed Guiles thought he’d need more than fresh clothing and had sent the willing wench.

  “No, I thank ye.” He took the clothes from the obviously disappointed lass who left in a hurry.

  A rather pale looking Guiles entered next.

  “Niven and I would like to ask that ye remain here longer.”

  Alasdair studied him for a moment. “Of course, we can talk later if ye wish.”

  The man nodded and left.

  The great room was already filling when Alasdair entered. The lairds who sat at the high board had their heads together deep in conversation. He didn’t sense any animosity between them or any type of bad intentions, which was good.

  “Alasdair,” Niven called out, waving him over. “Come join us.” The warrior, along with who Alasdair assumed were his most trusted four guards, sat at a long table.

  The men all acknowledged him with a nod.

  “What say ye cousin, would ye like to come as an escort for the boar hunt later today?” Niven ensured to remind the others he was there as a relative.

  “I can escort. I will remind ye that I would be of little help with the hunt as I’ve never done it before.” Alasdair gladly accepted a bread trencher and grabbed food from a platter in the center of the table.

  The men began discussing the plans for the day while he scanned the room for Dallis. She along with the blond woman, who was to marry Guiles, and their mothers walked past and up the stairs. Just as she reached the center of the stairwell, Dallis turned and met his gaze.

  Her lips curved just enough before she dropped her gaze.

  She is glad to see I remain here.

  “Alasdair?” Niven lifted a brow at his distraction. “I suggest ye use one of our mounts since yers may not be used to a hunt.”

  “Yes, of course.” He continued eating just as a strong sensation that someone watched him hit.

  Alasdair turned to his left to meet the narrowed eyes of Cuthbert Robertson and the man made a point of looking in the direction Dallis had gone.

  “Seems the Robertson’s son has taken a dislike to me.”

  Niven’s wide shoulders lifted and lowered. “He dislikes everyone. I do suggest ye give him wide berth if yer the target of his ire today.”

  “Is he going on the hunt?”

  “Yes.”

  The other guards grunted in annoyance. Obviously the man was not held in high regard by most. He’d wait until they were on their way and then ask Niven why.

  The day was cool, but with the sun out, it was perfect weather for a hunt. At least that was what Alasdair thought since he was mostly there to provide protection for the lairds and several other highborn males who attended the hunt.

  The Gordon had an escort of six, while the Sinclair had seven since he’d come along at the last moment. Along with the lairds, there were four other men who were to participate in the hunt.

  In Alasdair’s opinion, to call what they did a hunt was absurd. The true hunters were those that had gone ahead, found the boars, and rounded them into a specific portion of the forest. But what did he care? It was the game of the highborn.

  As they rode, the opportunity came that he and Niven were a distance from the others as they’d been assigned as the rear guard.

  “Why is Cuthbert Robertson so disliked?” Alasdair asked.

  Niven frowned in thought. “A couple years back, when a farmer failed to pay his taxes, Cuthbert ordered his guard to evict them from their land and burn down their home. His father was away, so no one stopped him. It was just before winter and the family was without shelter as others were ordered not to provide it for them.”

  Alasdair kept silent allowing the man to continue.

  “Fearful that they’d also lose their homes, no one helped them. Guiles and I rode to a cave, where we’d heard they were sheltered, in an effort to rescue them. They’d perished from the cold.”

  “Did the Robertson not do something upon his return?” Alasdair asked.

  Niven shook his head. “Although the Robertson was displeased with his son’s actions and attempted to make restorations, there was little he could do to ever repair the damage. Their people fear and despise Cuthbert. Now that we’ve joined with them, I wonder what will be done as I don’t foresee either the Gordon or our laird allowing Cuthbert any power over their clans.”

  “It is interesting then that they chose the Robertson to be laird over all three.”

  “He is the most powerful, has the larger clan, and is a fair man.”

  Alasdair allowed his gaze to move to Cuthbert. The man rode tall, his shoulders back as if to hold himself above others. That was it. Cuthbert Robertson had a secret, something that he never wished to be disclosed and because of it, he was filled with hatred.

  Sliding a look to Niven, Alasdair decided to find a way to get close enough and perhaps figure out what that secret was. “What is our part during the hunt?”

  “To play along. Ride on the edge of the woods to startle the boar to turn around.”

  “Sounds intoxicating,” Alasdair replied flatly.

  “He plans to marry Dallis.” Niven’s statement was made without inflection. “Not
hard to figure out why.”

  “If he is to be the next laird over all three clans, there isn’t much reason to do so. All the power will be his regardless.”

  Niven stopped his horse and waited for a few moments, his head cocked to the side. “I thought I heard something.”

  “We are being watched. Have been for some time now.”

  “When did ye plan to inform me?” Niven glared at him.

  “They are curious young lads. Wanting to see what happens.”

  Niven looked around, his brows lowered. “Boar hunts are too dangerous. When I catch them, I’m going to teach them a lesson.”

  They doubled back after Niven whistled and signaled to let his guardsmen know to continue on. It took but a few minutes to come upon the startled pair of boys who looked from Niven to him. Aware his scar made him appear intimidating, Alasdair scowled at them and pulled his sword. He slid a glance to Niven. “Can I slash one of them across the throat?”

  Niven studied the boys. “I told ye to remain home,” he told one in particular. It dawned on Alasdair by the boy’s features he was related to the man. “Go now before I allow this guard to do as he pleases with ye.”

  Alasdair advanced with a growl as the wide-eyed boys whirled their horses around and galloped away.

  “Yer son?”

  “Nay, nephew.” Niven shook his head and chuckled.

  When Alasdair and Niven caught up with the party, they’d split into groups.

  The hunt would take most of the day. The men would return to a feast set up in the courtyard. The prize boar would be presented and be roasted for the following day’s meal.

  Soon Alasdair figured out the routine he was to accomplish and rode his horse up and down the main trail as a deterrent to any boar that may have managed to get past the hunting parties.

  Moments later, he dismounted and went to a creek to drink and splash water over his head.

  The solitary moment gave him time to ponder what to do about Dallis. She called to him like no woman ever had. He’d claimed her the night before, had been her first lover.

  Although Dallis had taken to making love quite enthusiastically, there was that moment when pain happened, and she’d clutched to him while staring into his eyes, trusting him with the most precious of gifts.

  He had nothing to offer in exchange for her hand. Her father would have him run off the lands if he even dared to approach. There had to be a way.

  “Did ye not wish to participate in the hunt?” Cuthbert appeared just ahead on the right. Sword unsheathed, he urged his horse forward.

  “I came to assist as guard, not to hunt.” Alasdair gauged the distance to his horse. It was possible to make it there, but it would be close. Sword across his back and dagger to the side, he waited with his hands loose at his sides.

  Cuthbert moved closer and Alasdair walked backward until behind a fallen tree. “Ye overstep?” the man said in a casual tone. “How could ye consider yerself worthy of a laird’s daughter?”

  “Of the two of us, I am more so,” Alasdair replied.

  A bark of laughter was followed with a sneer. “Yer insolence will not be tolerated guard.”

  The man charged forward, his sword slicing across as he neared Alasdair who dived to the ground, rolled and pulled his own sword out.

  Enraged, Cuthbert turned the horse again. “Ye cannot best me. But it will be good practice. I am the best swordsman in the region. Did yer cousin not tell ye?”

  Interesting that Cuthbert had taken the time to find out who he was. Probably after witnessing he and Dallis exchanging a look that morning. “Nay, my cousin didn’t think it important enough.” Alasdair’s sword clanged against Cuthbert’s when the man charged again.

  As he rounded the horse, it gave Alasdair a chance to run behind a tree and seek cover.

  Cuthbert charged again, only slightly slowed by the obstacle as he brought the sword down on both sides of the tree. Each time, Alasdair was able to block him.

  With the advantage of being higher, Cuthbert could swing downward, which made it hard for Alasdair to defend against.

  Alasdair managed to round the tree and pulling the dagger from his belt, he pricked the horse on the rump. The animal reared, dislodging the rider and Cuthbert fell to the ground.

  Growling in rage, Cuthbert charged at Alasdair. “Ye hurt my favorite horse. For that ye will pay.”

  Alasdair defended from the raging man’s sword but did not fight back. “The horse hates ye as much as everyone else who surrounds ye.”

  Indeed, the steed kept running, seeming to sense freedom. He’d not stabbed the animal deep enough to give it permanent damage. Alasdair preferred not to hurt animals.

  Anger empowered Cuthbert, who continued to strike with obvious intent to kill. Having had enough, Alasdair swerved his sword in a “Z” pattern, sending the other man’s sword flying through the air. He then sliced across Cuthbert’s shoulder just to make a point. “Ye may be the best swordsman in this region, but I have never lost in battle.”

  The man’s nostrils flared as he gripped his upper arm. “Ye will die for this.”

  Moving with caution, Alasdair rounded the man and reached out just as he passed pressing his palm against Cuthbert’s back. “Yer sexual preferences will come to light. I suggest ye choose yer battles wisely.”

  Cuthbert’s eyes rounded, and he searched Alasdair’s face before looking past him.

  It was then Alasdair noticed Cuthbert’s guards approaching. The only factor giving him a bit of assurance was that none had drawn swords.

  Chapter 8

  There was an urgency in the air. Her father was gone for a hunt meant Dallis and her mother were left to prepare for the fanfare of the return. In the kitchen, cooks and maids rushed in every direction. They chopped meat and vegetables, stirred bubbling pots and ground dried herbs in preparation for the feast that evening.

  As much as Dallis usually enjoyed the opportunity to take part and help with the preparations for last meal, her mind went constantly to what her mother had informed her of.

  Cuthbert would remain behind, not leaving with the Robertson as expected.

  He would try to court her, she’d have to find a way of dissuading him without causing a rift between their fathers. From past experience, she knew better than to trust Cuthbert. He’d seize any opportunity and do his best to set up a way so that she’d be unable to get out of marrying him. So far, the one thing she was sure of was that he had bad intentions that included her in some way.

  “Dallis, if ye don’t continue to stir, it will boil over,” her mother said looking over her shoulder. “Where is yer mind today?”

  Although they were surrounded by people, Dallis did not care if they were overheard. But given all the activity, she doubted they’d pay much heed. Everyone in the kitchen had been with her family since her childhood and was trusted.

  “I’m annoyed that Cuthbert has chosen to remain and not leave with his clan. I don’t want him to try to convince Da that we should be married.”

  Her mother huffed. “I’m sure there are other reasons he remained behind, the competition for one. He was excited at the prospect of it.”

  “Will ye promise me ye will dissuade Da if Cuthbert approaches him? I don’t wish to marry him.”

  Her mother chuckled. “Ye are of marrying age. I can only put yer father off for so long. If ye have someone in mind, perhaps we can arrange a hand fast.”

  Not sure what to say, Dallis continued stirring the bubbling liquid in the pot. It was thickening and soon would be poured into molds to make flavorful gelled meat.

  “He is not of good standing,” Dallis whispered. “I don’t think Da will approve.”

  “One of the guardsmen?” Fiona neared and whispered.

  “Nay,” Dallis replied, giving her nosy friend an annoyed look.

  This time her mother guessed. “One of the Gordon’s men?”

  “The handsome archer who won a kiss last spring?” a maid called out.
/>
  The cook snapped her fingers at the maid. “Don’t be rude Daisy.” She looked to Dallis. “Is it Connor, the guard?”

  “Would ye all please stop.” Dallis gasped as the entire kitchen came to a stop and everyone waited for her reply.

  “What if I say he is handsome beyond words, has the most delightful smile and just a look from him makes me float away.”

  “Tis a fae then?” Fiona guessed. Everyone laughed and returned to work.

  “I suppose in a way he is,” Dallis whispered and Fiona’s eyes widened.

  Fiona leaned forward. “Nay. Ye cannot mean Alasdair?” she more screeched than spoke.

  “Hush,” Dallis hissed, elbowing her friend. “I mean it.”

  Her mother huffed. “That man is a nomad without a home, without a name. He is not the type to settle even if yer father would ever agree to such a match. I am sure Niven’s cousin is not interested in marriage, which is good because yer father wouldn’t either.”

  “Mother.” Dallis looked around and thankfully everyone had returned to their duties. “I beg of ye. Don’t say anything to Da.”

  Her mother lifted a brow. “I will think on it.”

  “Why did I open my mouth? What if my parents send Alasdair away?” Dallis and Fiona walked near the forest, gathering flowers to display on tables during the late day meal.

  Fiona stooped and daintily picked several wildflowers. “I sincerely doubt yer mother will speak to yer Da about it. The only time she may speak will be if Cuthbert comes to them with a request for yer hand.”

  “Nay.” Dallis shook her head. “Mother didn’t say anything when father was going to present me to the Macpherson’s son. If it wasn’t for yer father and Robertson agreeing to the clans uniting, I’d be betrothed to the horrible man now.”

  Flowers were plentiful across the meadow. Sunlight streamed between tree limbs, sending rays to light upon the colorful buds. A rabbit scurried away as they walked into a clearing.

  Dallis made her way to a stump, placed her basket on the ground and sat on the fallen tree. She followed a butterfly’s progress as it fluttered from bud to bud. “I think I’ll bring a blanket and a basket of food and come spend a day here.”