by Terry Spear
Anora wiped away tears. She couldn't help it. She really loved the boy that had been so lost. She loved the man he had become. "She loved you, did she not? Just like she loved her sons?"
"Aye." Niall was silent for several heartbeats, then he said, "She actually hugged me to her breast and wept."
Anora smiled.
"I was afraid James would learn that I made her cry, and I didn't want to make her sad, so I said the only thing I could think of to make her quit crying, 'You are getting me all wet, my lady.'"
Anora chuckled. She could just imagine his aunt comforting her orphaned nephew and how his words had affected her. How, if she had been his aunt, they would have affected Anora.
"She laughed, a tearful laugh. But then she looked down at me and gave me another warm hug and said, 'I love you, Niall, as I always have, even when your dear mother was alive. I love you like one of my sons, and none of that has changed. If any give you grief and James doesna take care of the matter to your satisfaction—come to me, and I will.'"
"Did you? Have to see her?"
"Nay, 'tis no' a warrior's way. I fought my own battles and except for that one last time, James and I never came to blows again."
She shook her head. "Men."
"What about you, Anora?"
She sighed. "I never really knew my mother. She died when I was just an infant and I was raised by nannies. I barely remember my father, either. Except that he was on the ship with me. He was never around much. Some say 'twas because of the fall I had suffered that I have so few earlier memories. I remember the accident, and my uncle telling me stories afterwards, but I do not remember a whole lot before that happened. I would have loved to have had family like you have. Though, John and his sister, Jane, treated me like their own."
"Anora, you have never once called them your mother and father, though they raised you as such."
"I thought of them that way, but they warned me that I was someone important, and I could never call either of them my parents. Besides, it would have been awkward to call John my father and Jane my mother when they were brother and sister. When she first brought me home, John was angry, fearing the French would swoop down and kill him and his sister for taking me in. And likewise, the English. He took Jane into the sleeping room and shut the door and though his voice was low and angry, I heard what he said while listening with my ear to the door, when I was supposed to be asleep by the fire."
Niall shook his head. "You were willful even when you were six."
"Oh, aye. John was so angry that his sister had taken me in, that when he took the sheep to pasture and his sister planted in the garden early the next morn—while I was supposed to be raking the byre with the pitchfork that was so much bigger than me—I ran away."
"Anora," Niall said softly.
"I… I did not get away."
"'Tis a good thing that."
"Aye. I thought that John did not want me there. That he was afraid that harm would come to him and his sister. But their dog, Whiskers, grandsire to Charlie, came and tried to corral me home. He acted so viciously, nipping at my heels and snapping his jaws at me whenever I tried to make a move further away from the direction of the cottage, that I could not make any headway. He kept barking and growling and scared me half to death. Yet, the night before while I slept beside the hearth, he had curled up next to me as if I was one of his puppies."
Niall kissed her skin. "He was taking care of you like you were one of his lost lambs."
"Aye, but I did not know that at the time. He grabbed hold of my léine and started to tug. I tugged right back. He was determined, and so was I. So, there we were, me holding onto my skirt, trying to get loose of his grip, and him tugging and shaking his head as he tried to pull me with him. I never had been around dogs like that before. My family used them for hunting, naught more. I was never allowed to play with them. Then John dashed through the woods and witnessed how far I had run away and saw Whiskers and the way he wasn't letting me go."
"Ah, Anora, you couldna have known how precious you truly were to them."
"I did not think so at the time. John looked horrified. I thought that meant the dog was going to kill me. I burst into tears, and John yelled at Whiskers to let go of me and he did, instantly. And then John lifted me in his arms, and I thought I heard him crying. But I have never heard a grown man cry. So I did not know what to think."
Niall laughed. "Ah, lass, I can see where you could make any grown man cry, given the right circumstances."
She smiled up at him. "Not you."
He kissed her throat, but didn't say either aye or nay. "So then he talked to you and said you were to stay with him and his sister."
"Nay. His sister was so shook up, she was furious with him when we arrived back at the cottage, Whiskers was bouncing around all of us. She made John sleep in the byre for three whole days. I was not sure about Whiskers, after the way he acted toward me in the woods. But when he curled up next to me beside the hearth, I realized he was just taking care of me. After that, John never said another word about me living with them or not. But Jane constantly worked with me so that I would speak only English and no more French. When she died, I grieved terribly. John and I lived together for several more years before he passed on. I truly loved them dearly."
"Sometimes all we have is a short period of time to love those who love us, and we must make the most of it while we can. 'Tis easy to forget that when we are so busy doing whatever we need to do."
"Aye, 'tis true, Niall."
"So, they told you stories?"
"Aye."
"And now you tell them." Niall snuggled closer to her. "Tell me, how did you learn to swim?"
She thought she heard a hint of concern in his voice and wondered why. "Have you ever made up a tale that made a story sound better than the truth?"
Niall laughed. "Mayhap the fish I caught was smaller than the one I bragged about, you mean? The one that got away?"
"Aye, like that. Did you truly tell a story like that?" Somehow she couldn't believe Niall would make up stories. He hadn't so far with her.
"Once or twice. So tell me how you learned to swim."
"There was a young girl, who when she was not doing her chores, which were considerable, liked to play along the edge of the loch. But John and his sister oft told her not to go near the water. Have you ever done anything your elders told you not to do?"
"Often," Niall said.
She suspected as much. What child could resist? "Do you know how tempting the water is on a hot summer's day? Ducks were paddling across the loch, white clouds drifting overheard, reflecting off the blue waters. A yellow and black winged butterfly fluttered nearby. Then Whiskers ran straight for the loch, and into it, until he was swimming, trying to chase the ducks. I watched him for some time, then figured if he could do it, I could also. I stripped off everything but my chemise, intending to stay near the water's edge, just leaning over to get wet to cool myself. But the shore dropped off, and I was suddenly over my head.
"Matthew heard me screaming and came to my aid. He stripped off his boots and tunic, and dove in. And after that, he taught me how to swim."
"For that, I am grateful," Niall said, stroking Anora's hair.
But Anora thought she heard a hint of disapproval in his voice. "Aye, or I would never have escaped my French escort," she reminded him.
She and Matthew had been young when he taught her how to swim. She had been ten, and he—two and ten. Did Niall believe she had swum with Matthew so indecently much later? She explained how old they had been, not wanting him to believe she had done so recently.
"And later?" Niall asked.
She sighed. Niall had thought she had swum with Matthew when they were older. She really couldn't fault him for being concerned though.
"Nay. I learned to swim—I am a quick learner—and then I went in when I knew Matthew would not be around. First, we had fun. But then John caught me swimming with Matthew and told Jane. She warned
me what could happen between girls and boys, since Matthew was older than me, and that was the last I went into the water with him."
"Aye," Niall said. "Even though I am certain Matthew would have been most honorable at first, the challenge would have been there had the water play continued as you grew older. I would have liked to have swum with you on a hot summer's day."
"I bet you would."
He chuckled.
Then she wondered how it would have been if Niall had been the one to teach her how to swim. "What would you have been like?" she asked.
"If I had been there instead of Matthew?"
"Aye. You are the most honorable of men." He had been all along. She could not see Niall in any other way.
"We would have wed by the time we were old enough to."
She laughed. She loved how he could take a serious subject and add humor to it. "I think I would have liked it if you could have been the one to teach me to swim."
"As enticing as you are to be with—I am certain I would have taught you much more."
***
The rains had stopped, though the water continued to roll off the cliffs like a light waterfall. Both of them still naked, Niall had covered Anora with most of his body, and they had slept the night away on top of their damp clothes as husband and wife. He could not have been more pleased that she had agreed to be his wife. But something in the predawn light had awakened him. Some noise that seemed to deviate from the natural rhythm of the river or the rainfall still dripping off the cliffs. Now he listened carefully as he moved off Anora, trying to clarify what had caught his ear.
She quickly rose to her feet and lifted her damp chemise off the stone floor of the cave and pulled it over her head. Then she hurried to dress in her léine, as Niall quickly dressed.
The river flowed down below, but something else had caught his attention. Splashing. In the water. Fish? Or man? Bloody hell.
If it wasn't Gunnolf or Matthew, Niall knew he'd be in for a fight.
Chapter 16
Niall quickly donned his clothes and helped fasten Anora's brooch to her brat. She pulled the wool over her head to form a hood, and was already trembling from the cold and dampness in the cave, their clothes still uncomfortably clammy.
A couple of rocks slid down the cliff below the cave. Someone was climbing up the granite rock face. To see if Anora was here?
Cian's men? Or the Frenchmen?
"Do you have a sgian dubh I can use?" she whispered to Niall, as he remained focused on the cave entrance. "They took mine from me."
He glanced back at Anora, saw her sweet face in the early morning light, looking worried but determined to aid him. He reached down to retrieve his and arm her with it but it was not there. Angry at losing it, he cursed under his breath. "I must have lost mine in the river." He'd only managed to keep his sword.
He reminded himself that those coming for her didn't want her dead. Though if she'd had a pitchfork, she could have kept at least one man at bay until Niall could protect her.
He studied the cave and wondered what his best battle tactic would be. He could fight the intruders at the mouth of the cave, having the advantage of being above those who were climbing to reach them. But if several scaled the cliff all at once, they could easily overwhelm him. And then Anora would be at risk of capture.
"Mayhap there is another way out—a tunnel through the cave," he whispered to Anora.
"I will see," she said, as he watched her, still listening to whoever was climbing up the rock face to monitor their progress.
Anora walked toward the back of the cave until the darkness engulfed her, and then he could hear her light footfalls as she carefully made her way into the blackness. She virtually disappeared, and he thought they might be able to hide there, but he didn't like that he couldn't see her. Then she headed back, materializing out of the darkness.
"There could be dangerous pots deeper in the cave. Without some light to aid us, we could fall into one," she whispered.
"Aye. We will move into the shadows and watch and wait. I could not see even a hint of you as you moved deeper into the cave." Niall edged his way back with Anora, being careful to ensure every step he took met with solid rock, while he ushered her into the darkening gloom. It appeared the cave continued for some distance, maybe even led to a tunnel, but Anora was correct. Without a source of light, it was too dark to navigate and could be much too dangerous.
Niall unsheathed his sword. He did wish he could fight whoever attempted to climb the cliff before they could reach for their weapons. With their hands gripping the rocks, they wouldn't have a chance to fight back. But if he fought and killed them, would whosoever had sent them send more? Unless, the others waiting for them thought these men had been lost to the treacherously cold river. Surely, not all of the men could swim, and Niall didn't believe all who would attempt it would manage to reach the cave before the swiftly-flowing burn swept some of the men on past.
Still, Niall didn't want to chance being overwhelmed if several came over the lip of the cave entrance at the same time. If a man studied the blackness deeper in the cave, he couldn’t see Anora or Niall if they hid there and mayhap the brigand would report she was not here.
In the early morning light, a man's head crested the floor of the cave—his hair wild, wet, and red. As he made the rest of the way up, Niall identified him as one of Cian's men. The very same man who had nearly killed Niall and left him for dead, a pale scar running along his cheek and angling toward his chin. Green eyes narrowed as he studied the dark recesses, and though Niall knew the villain couldn't see them, he still felt as though he could, his skin crawling with trepidation. Not for himself—but with worrying that if he couldn't hold these men back, Anora would be vulnerable.
Anora was at Niall's back, standing close enough to him, he felt the warmth radiating from her. He wanted her to stand farther away from him in the event he had to fight.
More rocks slid down the cliff. Another man was coming, maybe even more. The man Niall had fought earlier stayed where he was, waiting for reinforcements. The brigand continued to stare at the black cave when someone down below cursed in Gaelic. Another of Cian's men. Mayhap the devil himself. Though Niall didn't believe Cian would swim in the chilly water to find the lass. Most likely, he would wait on shore for them to bring her to him.
Niall wasn't certain how anyone would accomplish it. Even Niall wasn't sure how he'd get Anora out of here and avoid the Frenchmen or Cian's men who were probably searching for her downriver.
Niall readied his sword. He would kill every last one of them before any of them could touch Anora.
Two more sopping wet men reached the cave and stared in Niall and Anora's direction. "Can you see her, Tagan?" a golden-haired man asked.
"Nay, but she could well be hiding back there." Tagan motioned to the black cave. "We didna see a body floating down the river. Unless the men found her farther down after we returned to search for her in the cave, she has to be here."
A darker-haired man snorted. "Think you the lass could have withstood the cold, made it to the shore, and then climbed all the way up into the cave? Bah."
"Come out of there, lass," Tagan said, as if he knew she was there. "No harm will come to you. You are too valuable to us."
They waited. Anora moved closer to Niall, her breasts touching his back. He wanted to tell her to get back against a wall, but he was afraid they might hear her footfalls.
"You dinna want to make us come for you," Tagan said, his voice more of a warning now.
The men's swords were still sheathed. Were there more down below, or just these three?
"We know you helped the Highlanders escape—the ones we were hunting, lass. Our clansmen, who searched your croft, had left by the time we had arrived," Tagan called out. "You told Cian that they had gone north. But later, we found our men—dead—and nearby, their horses were grazing in a pasture several miles in the opposite direction, due south of your croft. Most telling? Two of
the horses were missing. The ones belonging to the two Highlanders that we had been searching for. Mere coincidence, lass? We think not."
So how would they explain that he and Gunnolf had stolen their horses when they belonged to Niall and his friend in the first place? The man had dug a hole for himself on that one. Unless he assumed the lass knew the right of it already, which was why she had protected Niall.
Anora touched Niall's back. He reached behind him, and ran his hand over her hip in silent reassurance.
The men continued to observe the darkness, listening for movement, delaying a response. Niall grew weary of this—waiting and watching—though he would do anything to keep the lass safe. And if that meant staying still to postpone fighting these men, he'd do it. But he'd so much prefer killing them and finding a way out of their predicament before others arrived en masse.
"They will send more men if we dinna return soon. Shouldna we do something?" the darkest haired man said, glancing in Tagan's direction.
Niall had been certain of it and he and Anora could not stay here forever.
"Aye. We canna take all day," Tagan said. Then he folded his arms and spoke again to Anora, as if he knew she was hiding in the black cave, "Did you know that one of your kinsmen was discovered to be one of King Philip's spies? King Henry had him hanged. Rumors abound that others who were with him—the same ones that you ran away from—are plotting with King Henry's brother, Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy. Did you know the duke has asked for King Philip's aid, since the king of the Franks is his liege lord, to aid in Robert's fighting his brother, Henry? 'Tis no' safe for you here any longer, should the king locate you and your kinsmen."
