Page 7 of Highland Sword


  “Thank you, Mistress MacDonald.” Allegra watched as the old woman and little boy disappeared down the hall.

  As she walked from the room, flanked by Mordred and Desmond, a chill passed through her, and she had to struggle to push it aside. She was aware of Merrick keeping pace behind her, but she kept her head high, her gaze fixed on the door that led to the courtyard.

  Once outside she walked to the horse, being held by a groom. Before she could pull herself into the saddle Mordred was there, ready to assist her.

  The moment his hands circled her waist she felt an icy chill that had her trembling violently. As she accepted the reins from the groom, she had to struggle to compose herself.

  Merrick stepped close, careful not to touch her. Seeing her pallor, he asked, “What is it, my lady? Are you ill?”

  “Nay.” She forced the fear aside, reminding herself that she would soon be back with her family. “Just a chill.”

  He stepped back. “I bid you safe journey, then.” He turned and shaded the sun from his eyes. “And you, my cousins.”

  Mordred gave him an easy smile before saluting and starting off at a brisk trot. Desmond, stonefaced, waited for Allegra to make her move.

  Allegra wheeled her mount to follow. Just then she heard a woman’s scream.

  “M’lord!” Mistress MacDonald was wailing like a banshee. “Ye must come at once.”

  “Hold.” Merrick reached out and caught the bridle of Allegra’s mount. “You’ll not leave until we see what’s happened.”

  Before she could issue a protest he’d hauled her roughly from the saddle and closed a hand around her wrist, dragging her along as he followed the entire household toward the garden.

  As they hurried along the ancient stone walkway, they saw the lad lying in the grass, his body twisting and writhing.

  The old woman stood over him, wringing her hands. She looked up, eyes wide with terror. “Oh, sweet heaven, m’lord. It’s Hamish. Come quick. The lad’s possessed.”

  The servants quickly fell back in fear. As Merrick strode forward, with Allegra beside him, many of the servants began muttering among themselves. “’Tis the work of the witch.”

  “Or the work of the devil.”

  “They’re one and the same. And now she’s turned the poor lad into one, as well.”

  “He’d have been better off dead. Now he’ll end up just like his poor mother.”

  That had many of them nodding in agreement.

  Allegra ignored the comments as she stood watching Merrick, who knelt beside his son and gathered him into his arms.

  “Hush now, Hamish, lad. I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  The boy continued to twitch and moan, as though in unbearable pain.

  Frantic, Merrick looked up at Allegra. His voice was gruff with fear and accusation. “You said he was healed.”

  “I did as you asked, and brought him out of his sleep.”

  “That isn’t enough.” His fingers snagged her wrist and he dragged her roughly to her knees beside him, leaving the crowd of onlookers gasping.

  Through gritted teeth he snarled, “You’ll find out what’s wrong with my son, woman, and make it right.”

  Allegra felt the sting of humiliation as the crowd closed in, suddenly eager to see her work her magic. She had a flash of memory, and was back in her childhood, hearing the muttering of an angry crowd when she had innocently saved a lad from drowning.

  She lifted her head. “You’ll first send the others away.”

  “You dare to order me...?” Though Merrick’s eyes flashed with fury, he was in no position to argue. He turned to his housekeeper. “Mistress MacDonald. You’ll see that the servants are taken inside.” He looked up at his cousins, who hovered over them, looking both angry and confused. “I’ll not need you today. I’ll send word when the woman is ready to leave.”

  Allegra ignored the harshness of his tone. For now, her only thoughts must be for the lad.

  Mordred crossed his arms over his chest. “I think it best that we stay.”

  Following his brother’s lead, Desmond nodded.

  “Nay.” Merrick shook his head. “You’ll go. Now. I command it.”

  Mordred seemed about to protest when he caught the icy look in his cousin’s eyes. With a last glance at the woman, he turned and led Desmond back to the castle.

  When they were alone Allegra tossed aside the cloak and touched her fingertips to Hamish’s temples. At once the violent twitching faded until he lay as still as death.

  Allegra closed her eyes and concentrated.

  She frowned, struggling to find a way through the whirling mist that clouded his mind. “There is much darkness here.”

  “What causes the darkness?” Merrick knelt beside her. “Is it fear? Anger?”

  “Fear, I believe, though it is mingled with many other emotions. Anger.” She concentrated a moment before adding, “Shame.”

  “Shame? What does my son have to be ashamed of?”

  She shook her head and struggled to focus. “I’m not certain, but I believe it shamed him to run from this fear. There is guilt because he didn’t stay and face it as a warrior might have.”

  “He’s just a lad.” Merrick caught his son’s hand in his. So small. So helpless. “What does he know about being a warrior?”

  Her eyes opened and she turned to the man beside her. “When you look at him, you see his mother’s face. But he is his father’s son, as well. It is you he admires above all else. It is you he wants to imitate.”

  She saw his jaw tighten. His words were forced, angry. “I know I gave my word that I would return you to your home if you brought him back to me. If you insist on leaving, I will have no choice but to keep my word. But I would ask a favor of you.” His voice lowered with feeling, for it galled him to beg. “I would be most grateful if you would stay and help my son remember his fear, so that he can face it and move on with his life.”

  Allegra knew what it cost this proud man to ask such a thing. As lord, he could order it, and she would have no choice but to obey. After all, no matter what he chose to call her, she was his captive. There was no one here in Berkshire Castle, or in the village beyond, who would assist her without the lord’s approval.

  “What if, by helping Hamish remember his fear, it should cause him peril?”

  “He and I will face whatever peril it might bring together. I want my son back. Well and whole again.”

  She caught a glimpse of movement beyond him and watched as a shimmering light seemed to transform itself into the lovely, golden-haired woman she’d first seen in Hamish’s mind. The woman was holding out her hands as though imploring Allegra to stay.

  When Allegra blinked, the image was gone.

  What things had transpired here, to cause the woman to linger long past her time? What strange matter was unfinished here, and begging for a resolution?

  Allegra paused for long, silent moments before nodding. “As much as I yearn for my home in the Mystical Kingdom, I can’t leave the lad alone and helpless against these unknown fears, without doing all in my power to help him.” She took in a deep breath. “I’m not certain I can find a way through the maze that fills his mind, for as I’ve told you, that isn’t my gift. My only gift is healing. But I give you my word that I will try.”

  Merrick studied her eyes. They were wise beyond her years. And filled with compassion.

  He had a sudden thought. “Will you be forced to pay the same price as before?”

  She nodded. “There is no denying that it will exact a price of me. Each time I use my gift, I must pay. This will surely weaken me, but not drain me as before. The journey from the other side is the greatest, and demands the most. Much more so than the journey from past to present.”

  He nodded in understanding. “I’ll see that the chamber beside Hamish’s is prepared for you. You’re to let Mistress MacDonald know what you need. Whether it is food or rest or herbs that you require, all will be provided.”

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; He lifted the now quiet boy into his arms and started toward the house, with Allegra following. She looked up to see the housekeeper and servants peering anxiously from doorways and balcony windows.

  What had she just agreed to? Though she was not to blame for what had happened to the lad, there were many here who would be quick to blame her if Hamish should suffer any ill effects. They would be watching and waiting to see if she were truly a witch. Even those things outside her realm—weather, plague, the cruelty of others—would somehow be blamed on her.

  She had once again, it would seem, put herself in harm’s way for someone she barely knew. And all because of her foolish, tender heart.

  Would she never learn?

  Chapter Seven

  As they entered the keep, Merrick began shouting orders, sending the servants scattering to do his bidding.

  Allegra followed Merrick into his son’s chambers, watching as Hamish was tucked beneath a blanket of fur. Using the last of the herbs, she quickly ground the leaves and added them to a goblet of hot water. When the tea had steeped she held it to the lad’s lips and helped him drink.

  Satisfied, she set the goblet aside. “For now, my lord, I think the lad should be allowed to sleep. He has been on a long and harrowing journey, and both his body and mind are still weary.”

  Merrick dropped to his knees and took the boy’s hand in his, staring down at the face, now peaceful in rest “It tears at my heart to see him so tormented.”

  “Aye.” Allegra dropped to her knees on the other side of the pallet and smoothed the covers. “But sleep is healing. To the mind as well as the body. I suspect that when he awakens, he’ll have no memory of this latest incident in the garden.”

  “If he doesn’t remember, how can you help him?”

  “We all have memories that we’ve forgotten, my lord. But deep inside, our minds retain them. And sometimes when we least expect it, the memory bubbles to the surface. I must first gain Hamish’s trust. And then perhaps I can find a way through the mists to the thing that troubles him.”

  “M’lord.” The housekeeper paused in the doorway, glancing nervously from Merrick to the young woman who had everyone in the fortress feeling so uneasy. “As you requested, the lady’s chambers have been prepared for her.”

  “Thank you, Mistress MacDonald.” Merrick turned to Allegra. “What do you require?”

  She glanced at the traveling cloak, which she’d tossed on a nearby chaise. This day was to have been her joyous return to her home. And now, once again, her plans were thwarted.

  “I must send a missive to my family, assuring them that I am well and that I am no longer being held against my will. Will you order one of your men to deliver it?”

  For the first time since their encounter that morning, he smiled, and she realized with a jolt how dangerously handsome the lord of Berkshire Castle was. “Why can you not simply ease your family’s worries with a thought?”

  “Such a thing is possible during times of extreme danger. I know that my family sensed your presence in our kingdom and gathered together to guard against your strength.”

  “The storm that tossed the waters?” His eyes narrowed. “They sent it?”

  “Aye. And could have done more, but they feared they would harm me, as well as you. The fact that you refused to release me diminished their powers.”

  “A lucky happenstance.” He nodded. “All right, my lady. Write your missive and I’ll have one of my men deliver it to your home.”

  “He need not risk his life by crossing the Enchanted Loch. If he but places it in a pouch made of kidskin, it will drift across the loch to the opposite shore, where my family will find it.”

  Merrick’s smile widened. “So many secrets. Does this mean you’re beginning to trust me?”

  “As much as you trust me, my lord.”

  That had him throwing back his head and roaring with laughter. “By heaven, you are a clever woman, the likes of which I’ve never known.”

  “And you’re a harsh man. But I think a fair one.” She stood and brushed down her skirts. I’ll need parchment and a quill. My family has worried long enough.”

  He looked at the housekeeper, hovering in die doorway, and the surly young serving wench, Mara, beside her. “See to whatever the lady requires, Mistress.”

  When the old woman had given orders to the servant, Allegra glanced over at Merrick. He was studying her with a look that had the color rushing to her cheeks. Despite the distance between them, she could feel his touch as surely as though he’d reached out to her. Could almost taste his lips on hers.

  More of his magic, she thought as she followed the housekeeper to her chambers. The man had such strange powers.

  Merrick remained beside his son’s pallet, listening to the swish of Allegra’s skirts until she was gone. If he were honest, he would have to admit that out there in the courtyard he’d had a moment of regret about her leaving. And then, in a blink, almost as if his wish were being granted, there’d been a compelling reason for her to stay.

  He would have to remain vigilant. For there was something about this witch that touched a chord in him. It would be so easy to fool himself into believing that she was merely sweet and innocent and good. But then, any woman with such potent magic as hers could persuade a man to believe anything. He’d soon be believing that witches had no interest in seducing mortal men, though everyone knew they did.

  He had no intention of falling victim to her charms.

  His only concern must be Hamish. He would not rest until the lad was whole and well and happy once more.

  He fervently hoped this woman’s healing reached the mind as well as the body, for the lad’s condition was deeply troubling. In the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind he harbored the terrible fear that Hamish was following his mother into madness.

  Allegra tiptoed into the lad’s chambers and knelt beside his pallet, listening to the soft, steady sound of his breathing. Assured that his sleep was untroubled, she got to her feet and shook down her skirts. In the morning she intended to walk to the nearby field and forest and begin gathering the plants and herbs she would need for healing.

  In the hallway candles sputtering in puddles of melted wax cast eerie shadows across the walls.

  As she was about to pass the staircase Allegra paused in midstride. It wasn’t so much a sound as a feeling that had her looking over her shoulder. A prickly feeling that someone was following her. The next thing she knew she’d been shoved roughly from behind. With a cry of alarm she found herself toppling headfirst down the stairs.

  For a moment she lay on the hard wooden floor, feeling the room spinning in dizzying circles. As her head cleared she gingerly touched a hand to her head and felt the beginnings of a lump. She sat up and looked around, but there was no sign of anyone around.

  She sat for several more minutes until she was certain she could stand. With a quiet sigh of resignation she got to her feet and made her way up the stairs and to her room.

  As she climbed into bed she knew, without a doubt, that her fall had been no accident. Someone was making it very clear that she wasn’t wanted here at Berkshire Castle.

  This deliberate act of cruelty only firmed her resolve to stay and watch out for the lad. For there was much more here than she’d first anticipated.

  “What is this?” Allegra glanced up when Mistress MacDonald entered her chamber, followed by a parade of serving wenches. One carried an empty tub deep enough to sit in. After setting it on several layers of linen, she departed, while several more women emptied buckets of steaming water until the tub was filled. All looked around quickly, as though in mortal danger, and seemed eager to depart the witch’s chambers.

  The frowning young serving wench who usually attended Hamish entered Allegra’s chambers, bearing an armload of gowns and assorted feminine frills.

  The housekeeper looked around uneasily at the bundles of herbs that Allegra had picked in the garden and nearby field. So many of them. The room was perf
umed with their fragrance. “The lord has ordered me to see that these gowns are made to fit ye. Mara is a lazy, surly wench, but is also an accomplished seamstress. She’ll see to ye’r needs.”

  Allegra couldn’t hide her impatience as she began hanging the herbs to dry. “I am merely a healer. What need have I of fine gowns?’ ’

  The old woman was already laying out the items across the bedcovers. “The lord has commanded that ye join him in the great hall to sup.”

  “I see.” Allegra gave a disinterested glance at the array of gowns and shawls, petticoats and kid slippers, then returned her attention to her plants. “You may choose for me, Mistress MacDonald. As for me, I must prepare a balm for the lad.”

  While she busied herself crushing the leaves of several herbs in a bowl, the housekeeper picked up a lovely gown the color of heather.

  “This will do, Mara. I believe it will suit the lady. If it is too big, use one of these ribbons to cinch the waist.” She handed over a shawl of soft ivory, threaded with heather ribbons. “And this, I believe to chase the chill of the great room.”

  Mistress MacDonald saw the way the servant was eyeing the concoction in Allegra’s bowl. She understood the fear and loathing, for it was there in her own mind, as well. But the lord had decided to trust this healer, and from what the old woman had seen, Allegra Drummond seemed genuinely interested in healing the lad.

  She took the servant’s arm and shook her. “Listen to me, Mara. Ye will see to the lady’s every need, or the lord will have ye’r head. Do ye understand?”

  The servant gave a defiant toss of her head. “Aye, Mistress MacDonald.”

  “Good. And dress the lady’s hair, if that be possible.” The old woman gave a dubious look at the wild mane of fiery tresses that spilled down Allegra’s back. It would take more skill than Mara possessed to tame that unsightly tangle. Still, she knew the servant would do what she’d been told. And anything would be better than the way the healer looked now, like some wild creature just dragged in from a Highland forest.

  Mistress MacDonald flounced from the room, her mind awhirl with the dozens of chores requiring her attention.