Highland Sword

Hamish started toward his father’s fortress in the distance.

Allegra wondered at the sudden flare of heat as the boy had another flash of memory. Just a flash, but it was enough to cause a spark of absolute terror. The spark flared into flame, burning so brightly it obscured all thought but one.

Danger. Danger. He had to get home at once.

Then he was running. Running so hard, so fast, his heart was thundering, and the breath burning his throat. There was but one thought Allegra could discern. He had to get to his father’s home. There was something important he had to tell him as soon as he returned from the battle. His very life, and that of everyone here in the castle, depended on it.

Allegra looked up at a commotion in the doorway as the housekeeper directed servants to set up a table beside the boy’s pallet. At once the connection was broken, and the boy’s thoughts scattered and fled and were lost to her. She took in several deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

“We fetched what you’ve asked for.” The tiny woman was out of breath from her hasty climb.

“Thank you.” Allegra sighed. Now she would have to begin again.

As she let go of the boy’s hands and sat back, she glanced at the housekeeper and had to turn away to hide the sudden smile that threatened.

The poor woman was too terrified to enter the room. Instead she’d remained in the doorway, calling out her directions while holding on to the door. Perhaps, Allegra thought, she meant to slam it in her face if threatened with harm.

The servants looked equally afraid, working so quickly they nearly knocked each other over in their desire to escape.

At least, she thought, there would be few interruptions. Except, of course, for Lord Merrick MacAndrew. He was now pacing back and forth in front of the fire, a goblet of ale in his hands.

He paused to stare at her, and she felt as though she were staring down the devil himself. Such anger there. Such darkness.

He drained his goblet, then resumed his pacing.

It was then she noticed that his cousins, Mordred and Desmond, had also remained. Both men were seated in the shadows, their gazes narrowed on her with fierce concentration. Perhaps they thought to protect the lord from the wicked witch.

This was, she feared, going to prove to be a very long night. And with each passing minute, she could feel her strength ebbing.

Chapter Three

Allegra was grateful that the others had finally vacated the lad’s chambers. Now her only distraction was Merrick MacAndrew, who hovered over her like an avenging angel.

She ground the willow bark into a fine powder, then sprinkled it into a goblet of water before holding it to the lad’s lips.

At once Merrick was beside her, clamping a hand on her wrist. “Hold, woman. What is this thing you give my son?”

“A potion for the fever.”

“Before it passes his lips, you will taste it.”

She was already shaking her head. “I have no need…”

His fingers tightened on her flesh. “I said, you’re to drink first.”

“Very well.” She took a taste. “And now will you waste precious hours waiting to see if I die, before allowing me to minister to the lad?”

Merrick’s frustration came out in a hiss of breath. “Enough of your insolence, woman. See to him.”

Very gently she held the goblet to the boy’s lips and watched with satisfaction until it was empty. Then she turned her attention to the balm and wood anemone, grinding each into powder.

With each twist of her hand, as she worked mortar and pestle, she could feel her strength being drained.

Merrick studied the concoctions with a wary look. “What do you hope to do with these weeds?”

“They are herbs. Wood anemone alleviates swelling. As for the sweet balm, I’ll use it to help the lad sort through his thoughts. He seems confused.”

Merrick’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve read his thoughts?”

“That is not my gift. But there are a few thoughts mingled with the pain, which I can discern. Perhaps it is the blow to the head, or perhaps there is something that is still causing him such fear, it blocks all else, even the healing.”

Merrick’s voice lowered with feeling. “Can he hear my voice?”

For the first time since encountering this angry man, Allegra saw a glimmer of the depth of his pain, something he’d managed to keep from her until now. “I know not. Who can say what those on the other side can hear?”

“The other side?” He blanched. “Is he dead, then?”

“Nay, my lord.” Seeing his pallor, Allegra was quick to explain. “He is not dead, but he has slipped far away from this life.”

“Why?” The word came out in a croak of misery.

“Some go there because it is a place of healing. Others go to prepare themselves for a life far different from the one they know here.”

“You’ll not let him go, do you understand?” Again his fingers tightened on her wrist, and she felt the mixture of anger and frustration pulsing through him. “Cast a spell, or do whatever it takes to keep him with me. If you fail, woman, you know what will happen.”

“Aye.” She snatched her hand away. “You’ve made that perfectly clear, my lord. Now I suggest you tend to your son.”

“Tend him? How?”

“Speak to him, as a father speaks to his son. Call to him. Let him know you are here, waiting to welcome him back from his sojourn to that other place. Urge him to come back to you.”

For a moment Merrick merely glowered at her. Then, putting aside his anger at the woman, he knelt beside the bed and touched a hand to the lad’s forehead.

His voice, when he finally spoke, vibrated with feeling. “Hamish, lad. I’m here now. Nothing can harm you, son. Nothing. Let go of your fears and come back to me. Please, Hamish. I need you here with me. You’re all I have in this world now.”

Allegra stood to one side, watching and listening in amazement. When Merrick MacAndrew spoke to his son, he became a different man. The brute who would force his will on others disappeared beneath the guise of a loving father. But she sensed that this was no mere playacting. The love this man felt for his son was a living, palpable thing.

Still, she would do well to remember that this was no gentle lord, but a coarse brute. And she had the bruises to prove it.

Shivering, she walked to the fire and stood with hands outstretched. But even this close, the warmth eluded her. The dizzy feeling that had come over her when she’d touched the lad was with her still. She felt light as air. As though, unless she anchored herself, she would float clear up to the rough wooden beams of the ceiling.

She took hold of the back of a chair and went very still, struggling to keep her wits about her. But now there was a strange buzzing in her head, and little stars began floating in front of her eyes. Bright they were, and giving off sparks that blinded her. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.

As if from a great distance she heard the lord’s voice calling to her. “What are you about now, woman? I’ll have none of your tricks. Come here and see to my son.”

She wanted to answer him. But though she opened her mouth, no words came out. Instead, the room went suddenly dark. She felt herself tumbling down into a deep, black abyss.

Strong arms caught and held her before she could fall to the floor. She felt herself being lifted and cradled against a solid wall of chest. She had not the strength to lift so much as a hand in her defense as she was lowered to a pallet.

There were voices. So many voices around her, and all of them babbling.

The high-pitched voice of the housekeeper. “Well, m’lord, no wonder the poor lass fainted. How long has it been since you fed her?”

The impatient tone of her captor cut through. “There was no time for food, Mistress MacDonald.”

“No time for food? And what about dry clothes?” Something tugged on Allegra’s boots, and she felt warm fingers rolling away her cold, wet stockings. “Look at her. Soaked to the skin. Ye must leave now, m’lord. ’Twouldn’t be proper for ye to stay here while I strip away her clothes and wrap her in dry linen.”

“I have no intention of letting this woman out of my sight until Hamish is healed.”

A long, deep sigh, and then the resigned notes of the housekeeper. “Very well, m’lord. But to preserve her modesty, ye will walk to the balcony until I’ve dressed her in a dry night shift.”

Allegra heard the sounds of booted feet storming across the room, and then the soft rustling as the housekeeper began removing her wet gown and undergarments.

When Allegra’s eyes opened the old woman took a step back, her face registering shock, then fear, then resignation. Pressing her lips together, she returned to the bedside, determined to complete her task.

Allegra touched a hand to her head. “I’ve never…fainted before.”

“Ye’ve no doubt never gone this long without eating before, I’ll wager. I’ve sent a serving wench to fetch some broth and biscuits.”

“Thank you, Mistress MacDonald.”

The housekeeper’s lips curved into a lopsided smile. “Up close ye don’t look like a witch. Why, ye’re hardly more than a lass.”

“I’m ten and nine. By the time my mother was my age, she had three babes.”

“As did I. I was wed when I was but ten and three.” The old woman helped her into a soft, warm night shift, before draping her in a shawl for modesty. “This’ll warm ye.”

“Thank you.” Allegra looked around. “Where am I?”

“Ye’re still in the lad’s chamber. I’ve made up a pallet for ye near his.” She lowered her voice. “The lord wouldn’t hear of ye leaving the lad’s bedside.”

“You’re very kind, Mistress MacDonald.”

The old woman shook her head. “Ye’re here to heal our dear Hamish. For that, I’ll do whatever I can to see to ye’r comfort, lass.”

“Even though you’re afraid of me?”

The housekeeper gave her a sideways glance. “Are ye reading my mind?”

Allegra laughed, a clear lilting sound. “There’s no need to do that, Mistress MacDonald. You’re not very good at hiding your feelings.”

“Are ye a witch, lass?”

Allegra’s smile faded. “Perhaps. I don’t know.”

“Isn’t that why ye live in the Mystical Kingdom? To keep ye’r secrets from the rest of us mortals?”

Allegra shook her head. “The Mystical Kingdom has been home to our clan for hundreds of years. I’ve been there since I was very young. My mum and gram say we took refuge there because the outside world fears and reviles what it cannot understand. There are many who would punish us for being different.”

“What is ye’r name, lass?”

“Allegra. Allegra of the clan Drummond.”

“Ah. ’Tis an ancient and honorable clan, Allegra Drummond.”

When a shadow fell over the bed both women looked up. From the scowl on Merrick MacAndrew’s face, Allegra had no doubt that he’d overheard everything.

“I see you’re well enough to gossip with my housekeeper. Does this mean you’re well enough now to see to the lad?”

Mistress MacDonald crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve ordered broth and biscuits for the lass. And Cook has prepared a meal for ye in the great hall, m’lord, where Mordred and Desmond await ye.”

“Tell Cook I’ll take my meal here, Mistress MacDonald.”

“Here?” She glanced around. “But the lass…”

“Is here at my pleasure. She will sup with me. And then, when her strength is restored, she will do what she was brought here to do.”

“Aye, m’lord.” The old woman gave a worried glance at Allegra before hurrying off to see that the lord’s orders were carried out.

When the housekeeper returned, she was trailed by half a dozen servants. While two of them set a table in front of the fireplace, laying it with fine linen, crystal and silver, the others were busy setting an array of food on a sideboard.

When all was in readiness the old woman sent the servants scurrying before announcing, “Ye’r dinner is served, m’lord. Will ye have ale?”

“I will. And so will the woman. It will help warm her.”

“Aye, m’lord.” After filling two goblets, she stood beside the table. “I’ll just wait and serve ye’r food.”

“There’s no need, Mistress MacDonald. You’re needed in the great hall. Fill our plates with a variety of Cook’s fine food. If we want more, we can serve ourselves.”

“Aye, m’lord.” After doing as he asked, the old woman gave a last worried glance at Allegra before bustling from the room.

When she was gone, Merrick startled Allegra by lifting her from her pallet.

She shrank back. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you fainting on me again.” His warm breath feathered the hair at her temple, sending the most amazing curls of pleasure along her spine. For the first time in hours she felt warm, all the way to her toes.

She didn’t know what to do with her arms. To keep them from encircling his neck, she clasped her hands together tightly. Because he was holding her so close, her face rested naturally against the warm hollow of his throat. She breathed in the unfamiliar scent of him, and found it so potent it went straight to her head.

This was a different kind of dizziness. Though her mind seemed to spin in lazy circles, she felt strangely focused. And though one part of her wanted to move away, another, stronger part of her wanted to remain just this way.

She’d never been held by a man before, except for her father. But he hadn’t lived long enough for her to remember much about him, except in dreams. Before, when Merrick had held her astride his horse, she’d been too afraid to allow the sensations to sink in. Now it wasn’t fear she was experiencing, but something far different. Something so alien, she would need time and distance to sort it out.

“You’ll sit here.” He lowered her onto a furdraped chaise set before the fire.

Once he released her, he reached for a goblet of ale and handed it to her. “This, and the fire, will have you warm in no time.”

He circled the table and took the seat across from her before picking up his own goblet and drinking. Allegra did the same, feeling the warmth of the ale seep into her veins.

Though her shift of white lawn was modest enough, with a high rounded neckline and long, tapered sleeves, it couldn’t hide the lithe young body beneath. Even the shawl draped about her shoulders couldn’t hide the swell of breasts. The bare feet peeking out from beneath her long skirts made Merrick aware that, except for the shift, she wore nothing.

It wasn’t an image he’d invited, but now that it was here in his mind, he couldn’t seem to get past it.

He set down his goblet and stared at her in a way that had her heart thundering. Then he blinked and the look was gone. Or had she only imagined it?

She bent to her food. After several bites of mutton she looked up and smiled. “This is grand. I think it may be as good as my gram’s.”

“I take it that’s meant as a compliment?”

“Aye. My gram can make biscuits that melt in the mouth, and cook fish from the loch that would make you weep.”

“Has she taught you her secrets?”

Allegra shook her head. “She tries. But she often complains that, though my sisters and I have many gifts, cooking isn’t one of them. Then there is Jeremy. He’s a little troll who lives with us, because he had no other home.”

“I’ve heard trolls are nasty creatures.”

She shook her head. “Jeremy isn’t like that, though he may have been at one time. Now he simply enjoys the beauty of the Mystical Kingdom.”

“What of your sisters? Are they healers, too?”

Allegra looked down. “We are all gifted, though in different ways. I’m the best healer, though the others can manage simple wounds. Kylia can also see the past, and on occasion, look into the future. What’s even more impressive, she can look into a man’s heart and see good or evil. Then there’s Gwenellen…” Just the thought of her youngest sister had Allegra smiling. “She has not yet discovered her gifts, though I’m certain she will in time.”

Merrick seemed most interested in Kylia’s gift. “You say your sister can look in a man’s heart. What if she sees both good and evil?”

“She would see both, but would not judge him. Kylia is far too sweet to ever judge another.”

“And what of you, Allegra?” The name rolled off his tongue like honey and startled him for a moment, for it was the first time he’d said it aloud. His tone softened. “Are you sweet like your sister, or are you a witch to be feared?”

She looked up, and he felt the smoldering heat of her anger. “Are you like all the others, my lord? Eager to use my gift when it suits your purpose, then resorting to cruel names to brand me different?”

He reached for his goblet, avoiding her eyes. Her words were too close to the mark, and shamed him. But he’d be damned if he’d ask forgiveness of this…this tart-tongued female. “We waste time talking, woman. We’ll eat, and then you can return your attention to my son.”

Allegra shivered as the cold settled into her bones once more. Whatever tenuous truce they’d attempted, it had dissolved like the wisps of fog that often drifted over the Enchanted Loch until banished by the sun.

The man across the table was once more the demanding lord. And she, like it or not, his unwilling captive.

Chapter Four

Merrick sat brooding while Allegra finished her meal in stony silence. Why should he feel guilty for calling her a witch? Isn’t that what she was? Still, she’d looked so hurt. A hurt that had now turned to stony anger. He couldn’t help comparing that with the way she’d looked when she’d been speaking of her family. There had been such sweetness about her. A light had come into her eyes that made them glow as green as a Highland loch. And for a moment high color had bloomed on her cheeks, making her as fresh and colorful as the flowers in her garden.

It was natural that she missed her family. Didn’t he miss his home whenever he was off fighting a battle? Of course, the choice to stay or leave was his alone to make, and she’d been given no such choice. But this was different. Fate had backed him to the wall and he’d had to fight his way out. If he felt a twinge of guilt about taking her far from her home, he quickly brushed it aside. He couldn’t afford to care about anyone but Hamish. If the witch healed the lad, she would soon enough be back with her sisters in the Mystical Kingdom.

What a strange place it had been. Lush and green, with brilliant flowers that grew taller than a man and the air perfumed like a lover’s chamber. It wasn’t only the air that was sweeter. The light there had been touched with such amazing color, gilding everything with gold and precious jewels. Even the drops of water in the Enchanted Loch had glowed like pearls.

He’d caught glimpses of creatures there that he’d never seen anywhere else in the Highlands. Winged horses, small and delicate, yet big enough to carry a woman or child. At least, he’d thought they were horses. One minute he saw them, the next they vanished from his line of vision. He’d also spotted tiny fairies flitting through the tallest branches of the trees. He’d seen a halo of light around them, and had heard their voices, whispering and giggling. But like the horses, one minute they were there, the next they were gone, and he’d wondered if he’d actually seen and heard them, or if he’d only imagined it.

Then he’d caught sight of Allegra tending her garden, and he’d been oblivious to all else around him. At first he’d refused to believe what he saw. Why would a witch tend a garden in an enchanted land? Couldn’t she simply command that the crops grow, and her wish would be granted? But there she was, lost in her work, giving him time to bask in her rare beauty.

Her gown of rich green, shot with gold threads, appeared to have been spun by angels. It had draped the most perfect body, all willow slender and softly rounded curves. Fiery hair hung down her back in one long fat braid, twined with green ribbons. On her feet had been dainty kid slippers. But the hoe in her hand had been plain and serviceable. And she’d worked it with all the fervor of a peasant. That only added to his fascination.

It seemed incongruous that one so lovely could work until her hands were calloused and blistered.

For a moment he’d been so taken by her beauty, he’d nearly fallen under her spell. But the thought of Hamish, and what he must do to save his son, had hardened his heart.

It had almost happened again just now when he’d carried her to the table. The press of that body to his had him thinking things that were better left alone. Thoughts of lying with her, of pleasuring himself with her, had been nearly overpowering. And when her mouth had barely skimmed his throat, he’d found himself drowning in sensations.

Even now she seemed a contradiction. All buttoned up in that prim night shift, while her hair flowed about her face and shoulders and spilled down her back like a veil of fire.

He would have to remember to protect his heart from this woman. After all, despite her pretense at innocence, this was no ordinary maiden. She would know every trick to steal a man’s mind, his heart and finally his soul. For the sake of Hamish, Merrick knew he had to be strong.

He had no fear of her. After all, he was a seasoned warrior. He knew how to do battle against his enemy.

He looked up with a start when he realized that she’d spoken. “Forgive me. I was deep in thought.”

She inclined her head. “I said now that Cook’s fine meal has restored my strength, I’ll do what you brought me here to do. It’s time I saw to your son.”

He pushed away from the table and snagged his ale before following her across the room. There he slouched in a chaise, his long legs crossed at the ankles, watching with keen interest as she perched on the edge of the boy’s pallet.

She smoothed the balm over the lad’s forehead, then gently lifted his head and spread more at the base of his skull.

Merrick felt his skin prickling, and found himself wondering what it would be like to have her touch him like that. He could almost feel those long, delicate fingers moving over him, caressing, arousing.

Annoyed, he put aside such thoughts to watch and learn the ways of this witch.

She touched her fingertips to Hamish’s temples and closed her eyes. She remained that way for so long, Merrick began to wonder what it was she was feeling. Her expressive face showed such a range of emotions. One minute she was smiling, the next her brow furrowed into a frown of deep concentration. She was relaxed for the space of a heartbeat, and then her face was twisted in pain. So much pain.

Merrick felt a jolt of understanding. Could it be that she was experiencing everything the lad was experiencing?

Suddenly she opened her eyes, staring down at Hamish as she began to chant in an ancient tongue.

The words were meaningless to Merrick, but he found them oddly soothing. Her voice, naturally low in pitch, was mesmerizing. He had to fight the urge to close his eyes and let that rich voice wash over him. Instead he forced himself to study her every move with great care. If she appeared to threaten the lad in any way, he would be on her like an avenging angel.

Her eyes were fixed on Hamish’s face with such unblinking intensity, they seemed to burn like points of flame. The ancient words poured out of her, as from one in a trance.

Abruptly she began speaking to the lad in his own tongue.

“I know you’re torn, Hamish, between your desire to remain where you are, in the company of those who offer you comfort, and to return to the life you once enjoyed. You need have no fear. Whatever harm threatened you has been banished. Here in this place you’re surrounded by people who love you and will look out for your comfort and your security. Your father is right here, eager to speak with you.”

At that Merrick got to his feet and walked to the other side of the pallet, peering down at his son. Behind the closed lids he saw a wild fluttering, as though the lad were struggling against a bright light.