The Seer

by Hildie McQueen

  Finally, he dismounted and looked over his shoulder toward the keep. His men practiced, the sounds of swords clashing distinct. Atop the wall others patrolled, their keen eyes scanning the surroundings. He waited until one looked in his direction and he lifted a hand in greeting. If this turned out to be some sort of ambush, the guard would notice his absence.

  The guard returned the greeting, now remaining in place watching him.

  Guiles dropped his horse’s reins and walked forward.

  An unmistakable swishing sound was followed by a sharp pain. Stumbling backward, Guiles reached up to where it hurt.

  At realizing an arrow was impaled in the chest, he stumbled backward.

  He opened his mouth to gasp for breath just as a second one hit, this one just below his right shoulder. He dropped to the ground and rolled sideways breaking the arrows, barely feeling it. Rather the temporary pain than death, Guiles thought, as he dropped to his stomach, to push them through.

  Sharp pains invaded so horrible, his vision blurred. Guiles did his best to stay coherent and drag himself under foliage and hide.

  Whether a third arrow struck him or just a sharp pain from the two currently impaled in his body, Guiles was not sure. He shook his head and crawled toward low growing bushes, but a fog crept along the edges of his vision until he could no longer see.

  Guiles fell back just as darkness fell.

  Laird Sinclair looked up when Alasdair burst into the study.

  “Yer son...”

  The laird didn’t need to hear another word. He rushed to Alasdair widened eyes boring into his. “Did something happen to Guiles?”

  “He’s been injured.”

  How to tell the man he’d had a vision and didn’t know where Guiles was?

  As they reached the great room, four guardsmen raced in, and surrounded the laird.

  One of them spoke. “We cannot allow ye outside. They bring Guiles now.”

  The laird looked from the men to Alasdair. “What happened?”

  “Arrows,” the same guard replied.

  Another nodded. “We were up on the wall saw him fall. Whoever it was had to be near. Niven along with another ten men gave chase.”

  Someone must have alerted Lady Sinclair because she raced down the stairs, her eyes searching for her son.

  “I must tell ye something.” Alasdair neared the laird’s right ear. “Do not allow anyone to know Guiles’ condition. No one.”

  Laird Sinclair shot him a quizzical look before there was movement at the door and men carried the injured Guiles in.

  “Guiles!” It was Dallis who cried out and ran to her brother.

  “Who did this?” She looked to each man who carried her unconscious brother to a table.

  The men looked to the one who’d spoken earlier. Obviously, he was the second in command. The man spoke without inflection. “Whoever he is, we will have him in hand very soon.”

  “Summon the healer,” the laird instructed while motioning to a hallway. “Take him to the large room on the left. Hurry, go!”

  Guiles would not die. Of that Alasdair was certain, for he’d seen the man married and with children. Unfortunately, he had now sealed his fate. For what he was about to divulge to the laird meant the man would never allow Dallis to marry him.

  Keeping to Alasdair’s instructions, once the healer pronounced Guiles to be resting and all that was left to do would be wait, everyone was sent away.

  Only a trusted woman from the village, who’d delivered Guiles at birth, was allowed to remain and see about him.

  Besides the laird, Lady Sinclair and Dallis, no one else was allowed into the room. The murmurings began. Why was Guiles’ condition kept a secret? It was not normal for Laird Sinclair not to allow visitors who could bring herbs and such to help.

  Soon rumors that Guiles could have died and the laird didn’t want anyone to know began to circulate. It was perfect, exactly the way to trap the person responsible.

  “We cannot keep the secret much longer,” the laird whispered in his study days later. Niven remained at the door guarding to ensure no one overheard. “Ye have yet to explain yer reason for this. A man has been captured and admitted to it.”

  Alasdair lowered to a chair so not to speak down to the laird. It would be disrespectful. Not only that, but he’d put off telling the truth long enough. Dallis had begged him not to say anything, to let it go. However, if he kept the secret, it was possible another attempt would be made against Guiles. The second time, the killer would ensure the man died.

  “I must admit why I came to be here.”

  The laird’s narrowed gaze moved to the doorway. “Continue.”

  “The reason for my presence was a summon.”

  “From who? For what?”

  If there were any chance to save his betrothal, Alasdair had to measure his words carefully. “I was summoned by the resistance against Laird Macpherson.”

  The laird sat back, his gaze once again moving to the doorway. “I assume Niven is who summoned ye then?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a long pause. Laird Sinclair did not move, his expression neutral. “Why were ye called to come?”

  “To advise. Help develop the plan of action. I can see things.” Alasdair shrugged. “I am a seer.”

  At that the laird’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that how ye knew what happened to Guiles?”

  “Yes. It is also how I know someone ordered the man in yer dungeon to do it.”

  The laird turned to the door. “Niven, come.”

  The warrior entered, shoulder’s squared, and yet there was an air of vulnerability about him. No doubt this could cost Niven his position. Alasdair had hoped to spare him and spent many hours speaking to Niven about a different story. However, the man had insisted it was time for the truth.

  “Yes laird. Everything Alasdair says is true. I was part of the resistance against Laird Macpherson.”

  Keeping his voice low, the laird leaned forward. “And so were Guiles and Dallis.”

  The man was intelligent, had figured out why his son and daughter had accepted Alasdair’s presence so readily.

  Niven did not reply.

  The laird slammed a flat hand on the wood in front of him. “Weren’t they?”

  Letting out a long breath, Niven nodded. “Yes laird.”

  The laird was pleased with the honest statement. “Do they know ye came to speak to me about this?” The laird looked between Alasdair and Niven.

  Alasdair nodded. “Dallis asked that I not. However...” Laird Sinclair interrupted him with a slash of his right hand.

  “And ye Niven, did ye really think that yerself and a group of idiots could overthrow the strongest laird in the region?”

  Niven maintained a proud stance. “We had a good plan.”

  “Thank God ye didn’t get to test it.”

  Alasdair expected that the laird to dissolve any agreements between them.

  “I am tired of secrets. I do not know what to think of ye doing this Niven,” Laird Sinclair looked to Niven. “However, being ye and my two children were in this together, it is something we will deal with once Guiles recovers. Perhaps ye can tell me about yer foolish plans.”

  The laird looked past Niven and frowned. “The so-called resistance ends today.”

  “Aye Laird,” Niven replied. “On my word.”

  “As far as ye,” the man studied Alasdair for a long moment. “I am forced to reconsider your betrothal to my daughter.”

  “Laird, we wish to marry. My fealty remains yours.”

  The laird let out a breath. “I must ponder on it.”

  Alasdair hated that he could not see his future. This would have been a time he wanted to know what would happen.

  Once everything was over and the true killer was divulged, it could come to be that Laird Sinclair would have him escorted off the lands.

  Alasdair could tell that Laird Sinclair grew weary, but the time of the truth was at hand.

  T
he laird sat back with a cup in hand, the ale becoming too warm to drink, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Some days I grow tired what has to be done to protect others,” Laird Sinclair admitted.

  Looking to the doorway, Alasdair allowed for time to pass before replying.

  “Once this is over, I sense a long time of peace.”

  The Laird looked to the doorway where guards remained not allowing anyone into his study. No one would think it odd since an assault had been made on his son. Of course, most thought Guiles to be dead. That he was exhausted played into the role of grieving father, so for that he was thankful.

  No one had come as yet and several days had passed since Guiles’ attack. Alasdair had no doubt whoever was responsible for the attack would appear soon.

  Guiles grew restless but did not complain.

  His betrothed was not doing well. Fiona had grown despondent. It was best she not knew that truth yet. Just earlier, Fiona had rushed from his study wailing with despair at being turned away again. For that Alasdair felt guilty.

  The less people that knew Guiles was alive, the easier it would be for their plan to work..

  “Laird. Donall Muir is here to speak to ye,” a guard announced.

  “Allow him in.” The laird motioned for Alasdair to come sit to his right.

  “Donall Muir.” Laird Sinclair didn’t look surprised. Alasdair was told that Donall had been in his guard since a youth, but he’d never been fully trusted.

  Donall entered, his face devoid of expression. “Laird,” he lowered his head. “I must speak to ye of a very private matter.”

  When Alasdair did not move, the Laird motioned to him. “Alasdair will remain.”

  Sinclair wasn’t stupid enough to send the guards away. Instead he called out, “Guards move away from the door but remain within shouting distance.”

  Seeming satisfied, Donall looked to a chair. Laird Sinclair pretended not to notice. He stood. “What happens?”

  “There are rumors that Guiles has died.” Donall assumed a stricken expression, his eyebrows pinched and the corners of his mouth downturned. “Ye will remain without an heir.”

  “That is true. I have no other sons.”

  Alasdair caught a gleam in Donall’s eyes before he lowered his gaze. “I am not worthy of course being bastard born. That said, ye can declare me yer son. As such, I can be yer heir.”

  Laird Sinclair cleared his throat. “Yer mother continues to maintain I am yer father then?”

  “It must be true. She has never wavered. There is a resemblance also, I have asked, and others agree.”

  Laird Sinclair ran his hands over his face. “The time between when I lay with yer mother and yer birth was too far apart for ye to be my son. I have told ye this. Over a year passed.”

  “Mother claims ye are mistaken. She says it was more than once.”

  “Enough Donall. Ye are not my son. If ye were, I would not hesitate to claim ye. This is not the time to come to me demanding I declare that ye are. My true son is...”

  “Dead.” Donall leaned forward, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth. “Ye need an heir. I am yer blood. Declare me yer son, or else...”

  “Ye’ll have someone kill Dallis?”

  The man stumbled backward, his face paling. “What? No. Why would I do that?”

  “Because ye ordered the hapless man down in my dungeon to do it. What are ye holding over his head that he won’t speak against ye?”

  Other than the sound of his breathing, Donall didn’t utter a word. It was easy to tell he was considering what his next move was.

  “If ye will not declare me son, then I demand to marry Dallis.”

  In truth he’d heard enough and let out a sigh of relief when Niven came through the doorway.

  “It’s him. The farmer told us the truth upon hearing we had rescued his young son.” Nevin turned to Donall. “Ye had the farmer’s son and threatened to kill him if he didn’t help ye.”

  “I am Laird Sinclair’s son. Ye cannot come against me.” Donall had moved closer to Laird Sinclair, but he was prepared for it.

  When in one smooth motion, Donall unsheathed his sword and swung toward him, he found himself run through by Alasdair’s sword.

  There was shock in Donall’s expression, as he stumbled backward and fell to the ground.

  Laird Sinclair neared the man as he lay dying. “I don’t know who yer father is Donall. But it is not me.”

  Donall’s mouth opened and closed and then his eyes went blank as death claimed him.

  Chapter 13

  Guiles tapped his fingers on the tabletop, his impatience was growing more and more with each minute that passed. Dallis had gone to fetch Fiona as he tried to come up with a way to explain why the truth had been kept from her.

  She’d be furious, of that he had no doubt. Now that the truth was out, hopefully she’d understand.

  It had been the longest days of his life, not able to see or speak to her. If nothing else, the entire episode had served to show him how much he did care for the fair Fiona.

  The door opened and Guiles’ stomach pitched. A red-faced Fiona flew from the doorway and straight into his arms. He flinched, as his injuries remained sore, but didn’t mind at all having her so close.

  Sliding his hands down her back as she cried into his tunic, Guiles noticed the door closing. His sister would keep guard to ensure them privacy.

  “Don’t cry Fi. Please don’t. I am so sorry.” Since she kept her face hidden, he could only rub her back. “I missed ye so much.” Now he was beginning to sound like a love struck adolescent.

  “How coo ye isss? Oooo have a deer?” Her words were muffled, and he strained to understand.

  “What did ye say darling?”

  Her head jerked upward butting him on the chin. The hit so hard, his eyes must have crossed.

  Fiona pushed away and began wiping her mottled face with both hands. “How could ye do that to me? I have been going mad with worry and sorrow. I was sure ye were dead.”

  When he tried to hug her, she kicked his leg. “I mourned ye.” She crossed her arms, her gaze moving over him. “Why?”

  “Please sit. I will explain it all to ye. Would ye like some honeyed mead?”

  After a few moments, she slowly nodded. “Very well. But don’t look at me. I know I present a frightful sight. It’s yer fault.”

  Guiles fought not to smile. She looked adorable. Wet lashes framed her pretty eyes. A pink flush on her cheeks and the tip of her pert nose was red.

  “Ye care for me. Ye care a great deal,” Guiles chided her.

  Fiona stuck out her chin. “I did, but now I am not so sure.”

  “I more than care for ye, fair one. I am besotted.” He waited for her eyes to meet his. “I hated every minute I could not see ye.”

  Once again Fiona rushed to him clinging to his tunic as if her life depended on it. She was angry, would probably remain so for days. Guiles would accept any punishment she would dole out as long as she remained betrothed to him and soon became his wife.

  “Do ye understand why we had to keep my condition a secret, love?” He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “It was the only way to find out who was behind my attack and stop the possibility of another. If we’d not known it was Donall, he may have come after me when ye were there and I couldn’t risk it.”

  Although she nodded, her mouth formed a tight line. “I would have kept the secret. All yer father had to do was ask. I wouldn’t have told a soul.”

  “Perhaps not. At the same time, it would have been a huge burden on ye to have to deal with all the questions and demands of what happened.”

  She let out a huff. “I did. Everyone wanted to know why I also remained in the dark about what happened. Most began to think yer father had gone mad with grief. I considered it as well. If not for yer door constantly being guarded, I would have barged in.”

  Fiona looked about the room. “How were ye kept fed? Yer father was the o
nly one who entered, and he never carried anything.”

  So she’d been watching.

  “A secret passageway. My father had me put here in case there was a need for quick access to the outdoors or kitchens.”

  “Oh.” Her dejected expression brought worry that she was on the brink of changing her mind.

  “Fi? We shall marry next week. I have recuperated enough. Ye will be my wife and I swear to ye never to keep a secret from ye again.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “If ye ever do, I promise to leave ye immediately. I won’t give a hell about any repercussions. Believe me, I will not hesitate to return to my home.” She put her hands up to keep him from touching her. “And I won’t care if there are bairns or not.”

  Guiles’ lips twitched. “Ye will take my bairns from me?”

  “They will probably be an unruly bunch, so no I will not. As further punishment, they will remain with ye.” Fiona fought to keep from smiling and turned away to face the hearth. “I wish you to understand how horrible this was for me. Don’t ever keep me in the dark again. I suffered so.”

  He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. “I give ye my vow to never do it again, unless yer life depends on it.” His hands slid up from her waist to cup her breasts. “I cannot wait to have yer lushness under me. Fully open to take as my own.”

  Fiona gasped and her head fell back onto his shoulder. “Neither can I wait to be yers.”

  Chapter 14

  Guiles and Fiona’s wedding day arrived at last. Dallis was restless throughout the entire event. She tried her best to pretend excitement while helping Fiona get ready and truly she was happy for her friend and brother. Her father had yet to say anything about her own betrothal. Would everything continue as planned?

  Each time she’d asked, he waved her away pronouncing to have more important things to consider.

  Although his future was not clear, Alasdair continued to work with the guardsmen, training with them every day. In the evenings, she would see him at last meal. Spending time together was difficult.