Awaiting the Wolf Killer Highlander by Alisa Adams
4
Malcolm set off with Amelia early the next morning. Aodh and Freya were made as comfortable as possible in the back of a simple old wagon, pulled by a pair of swaybacked horses. Malcolm and Amelia were dressed as a pair of simple farmers, and no guards were sent with them.
This was because the less attention they called to themselves, the safer they would remain while on the roads. Or at least, that was what Sorcha tried to tell herself.
Deeper down, she knew the truth: That she dared not let the guards know about this trip, lest they speak of it among themselves. If word of this spread to the other members of the clan, she knew that their resentment toward her would grow tremendously. They would demand to know why these two children were being sent to a potential cure for their ailment, while the other children of the village were left behind to suffer without hope.
Worst of all, some guilt-wracked part of her knew that the question was an entirely valid one. Aodh and Freya were benefiting from unique circumstances. Their wellness was being placed above that of the other villagers.
But Sorcha simply could not afford to care about any of that.
After the untimely death of their parents, Sorcha and her two younger siblings had been sent away to grow up as the unwilling guests—or, more aptly, the hostages—of another clan, one loyal to their pernicious uncle. The three of them had relied on each other fiercely in those years of grief and misery. They had made a hundred oaths and promised to always stand by each other in times of trouble, no matter what.
She owed this to them. She owed them a chance to live.
And more than that: As long as Aodh could draw breath, he remained the rightful laird of the Campbells. She knew he would command the proper respect from the rest of the clan when he became old enough to rule on his own. He was strong and wise, just as their father had been.
He deserved every chance at that future, whatever it took, whatever secrets it forced her to keep from her own people.
“It is only a day’s ride from here,” Malcolm reassured Sorcha at first light. She and Amelia had carefully lifted the two youngest Campbells onto the wagon, and now Amelia was carefully ladling water into their mouths so that they would not perish from thirst. “We should return quite soon.”
“I hope so,” she answered. The reasons for that hope hung silently in the air between them, as tangible as the morning mist.
She was seized with a nearly irresistible impulse to kiss him, but she fought it with every scrap of willpower she could summon. It would be inappropriate and futile for all of the reasons Edmund had outlined, to say nothing of the fact that it would be foolhardy (since she barely knew the man) and most unladylike (for much the same reason).
“Keep them safe,” she told him earnestly. “And keep Amelia safe, and yourself as well.”
His eyes widened in mock fright. “Eh? I thought Amelia was meant to be keeping me safe! Good heavens, now I must fear for my safety and rethink this entire endeavor!”
“I do not find you amusing in the slightest, sir,” Amelia said.
“That matters little to me,” he informed her, “as I find myself humorous enough for the both of us.”
“I have no doubt that is true.” The servant girl rolled her eyes. “Now, shall we be on our way? Every moment that we tarry increases the risk that we will be seen, to say nothing of the added agony these two dear children must endure!”
Sorcha could not help but snicker, picturing the expression that would doubtless be on Aodh’s face if he had been awake to hear himself referred to as “a dear child.”
Then again, he said that he was able to hear everything, even in his unconscious state, she reminded herself.
“Amelia, will you speak to them during the journey?” she pleaded. “Will you tell them stories? They will hear you, I assure you, and they will appreciate it greatly.”
“You have my word, my lady,” Amelia promised.
“And what about me?” Malcolm made a joke of sounding hurt as he climbed up onto the wagon and took the reins. “I have plenty of stories too, you know! Better ones than her, I’d wager!”
He flicked the reins, and the horses started forward, forcing Amelia to break into a run to catch up. She climbed onto the wagon next to Malcolm indignantly. “You had best keep your stories to yourself, you…” The rest of her words trailed off as they disappeared over the nearest hillside.
Sorcha watched them go, silently praying that they would reach their destination unharmed and that Aodh and Freya would return from it cured of their ailments.
And then?she thought. There must be some way for me to be able to parlay that into a cure for all the other members of the Campbell clan who have fallen ill. Otherwise, they will see that I sent my own kin away while theirs were left to suffer, and then they truly will revolt against me.
Still, I suppose I am making a great many assumptions, aren’t I? Just because pagans inhabit this secret place Malcolm spoke of doesn’t necessarily mean they will be able to do what he says they can.
But she could not contemplate that. The thought of her younger siblings enduring this wretched disease until they succumbed to it was simply more than she could bear.
Meanwhile, as the cart bumped and shuddered over the stony road, Amelia said, “So, you fancy her, do you?”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow sardonically. “Freya, you mean? Bit young for my tastes, as it happens.”
“Don’t hand me none of your nonsense, you!” she shot back. “Do you honestly believe I have not seen the way you look at Sorcha?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “She is an attractive woman. I imagine a great many men look at her when in her presence. Why? Would you prefer that I avert my eyes next time?”
“Now you listen to me,” Amelia admonished, jabbing a finger in his face. “The Campbell clan has had more than enough hullabaloo in recent years when it’s come to people seeking romance above their station! Dand Campbell, the eldest heir to the lairdship, was forced to give up his title when he fell in love with a servant girl. Now he lives the life of a commoner, leaving poor Sorcha with the responsibility of leading our people.”
“Good heavens!” Malcolm marveled. “That is a tale I would not mind hearing in greater detail. I shall have to ask Sorcha to elaborate upon my return.”
“Ask her whatever you please about the matter,” the servant girl said, “only don’t go getting any ideas about wooing her, do you hear? Ever since what transpired with Dand and Maisie, I’ve seen a great many of the castle’s servants and guards suddenly act as if they, too, might be fortunate enough to marry above their stations someday. It is most improper, and I will tolerate none of it from the likes of you! My lady shall have a fitting suitor, one befitting her class and station, not a traveling rogue who will seduce her with his piercing green eyes and bring her more heartache and strife!”
He wiggled his eyebrows at her playfully. “Do you really think my eyes are piercing?”
“Oh, do be quiet, knave!” she retorted, batting his upper arm.
They mostly remained silent for the rest of the journey, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Amelia fretted about the welfare of the Campbells in the back of the wagon and tried to fend off dark thoughts about the future of the clan if those poor children did not survive their current plight. She had seen and heard the attitudes of the clan members regarding Sorcha. They did not seem to have any faith in her ability to lead without a man at her side, and Amelia did not wish to contemplate what might happen if the clan turned against her completely.
For his part, Malcolm thought about romancing Sorcha.
Why not? Was that not what men regularly did—fantasize about the women they wished to be with, even if the chances of such a thing turning out well seemed terribly slim? He had to admit to himself that the tidbit Amelia had revealed about Sorcha’s older brother fascinated him. He resolved to learn more of these matters at his earliest opportunity.
Not that it will do me much good in terms of wooing the fair lady of the house, he conceded mentally, but a fellow can still daydream, can’t he?
Their trip was without incident, and by midafternoon, they found themselves riding into a sunlit valley covered with a veritable rainbow of wildflowers. The dreamy and intoxicating smell of them wafted on the breeze, and a bit of pollen went up Amelia’s nose, causing her to sneeze three times. Bees and butterflies danced around the blooms as badgers frolicked in the tall grass. A trickling freshwater brook twinkled and gleamed through the grasses like a ribbon of pure silver, and the horses immediately trotted over to it, drinking their fill.
Amelia’s eyes were wide with astonishment. “In my dreams alone have I imagined such a place,” she breathed. “However, I see no village, no houses or farms.”
“No, of course you don’t,” he remarked, hopping down from the cart and stretching his legs. “The people who inhabit this land must do so in secret so that their peculiar ways of worship do not attract the attention of those who might persecute them.” He cleared his throat, cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice, and bellowed, “Esme! Arabella! It is I, Malcolm Haldane! Fear not my guests, for you have my word that they come in peace!”
Suddenly, the grass shifted in several areas, and to Amelia’s wonderment, secret hatches swung open, revealing a series of holes in the ground. Numerous men and women poked their heads up to look at the visitors.
Their expressions were not especially welcoming.
Two women sprung up from the ground and walked toward the cart. They were old and wizened, with large hooked noses and wisps of white hair blowing around their craggy faces. They wore plain brown robes that looked rough and itchy and walked on gnarled wooden canes.
“They may come in peace, Malcolm,” the first one said, “but that does not change the fact that they are now aware of our home. If they reveal it to others…”
“Esme, I give you my personal assurance that they will do no such thing,” Malcolm reassured her. “We seek your powers of healing. You have my word that I would never have brought anyone to your doorstep if it were not a matter of life and death.”
The other one, who Amelia assumed was Arabella, looked her up and down, then sniffed contemptuously. “She appears healthy enough,” the woman croaked.
“She is not the one in need of aid, dear lady,” he replied, leading her to the back of the cart where the two Campbell children slumbered. “Rather, it is these poor innocents who have fallen gravely ill.”
Arabella put her bony hand on the youths’ foreheads to check their temperatures, then nodded. “Aye, they are in dire straits, right enough. Indeed, they may be beyond even our ministrations.”
“But you will try, will you not?” Amelia asked hopefully. “The very future of their clan depends upon their survival!”
Esme laughed harshly. “Oh, does it, now? Look around, child. What do we care of clans and their affairs? Involving ourselves in such things has only ever led us to persecution and misery. Aye, we heal their sick right enough… and as soon as they have the strength to stand, they denounce us as witches and druids and call for our heads to be spitted upon pikes!”
“I would never bring such a fate upon you,” Malcolm answered solemnly. “In fact, you may recall that on two separate occasions, I went to great lengths to protect your secrets. As far as I am concerned, this means that you owe me two lives. And so, I have come to collect on behalf of these two unfortunate young people.”
Arabella tilted her head to one side, curious. “And pray tell, what are they to you, Malcolm?”
A chance to earn the gratitude of their lovely sister, he thought. Gratitude, and perhaps even more.
Out loud, he said, “They represent their family’s best chance for peace and prosperity. As such, their lives are worth a great deal. Now, will you help them and honor your debt to me?”
“We shall, aye,” Esme told him with a smirk. “We shall even do them the added kindness of allowing them to return to their home once we have done all we can for them…though our custom would normally be to ensure that they never leave to tell our secrets. Thus will our sizable debt to you be repaid at long last, Malcolm. Will these terms satisfy you?”
Malcolm smiled. “Indeed they will, and I am most grateful. Now, there is one final matter for us to attend to.” He turned to Amelia. “You must write a letter to Sorcha letting her know that you and her siblings are safe here and that you must all remain here until these good ladies have taken the necessary steps to cure the children.”
Amelia’s eyebrows went up so sharply that Malcolm thought they might fly off her forehead. “What? You do not seriously intend for me to remain in this strange place while you go back without me?”
“Lady Sorcha will want to know that her brother and sister are being looked after by someone she trusts implicitly,” Malcolm explained. “I’d wager she trusts you well enough since she entrusted you with this errand, whereas she has only just met me and has little reason to take comfort from the news that they were left here with me and a pack of strangers.”
The servant girl’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “No, I think it is more than that. I believe you are returning without me because you desire my mistress and rightly fear that I would do all I could to come between you!”
I must privately concede that what she says is not far from the truth, Malcolm thought to himself wryly. But there is another purpose as well. One more fit for her ears, I think.
“When I protected her from the mob in the village,” Malcolm said, “I saw the look of distrust and hostility in the eyes of the people. I have traveled to many lands in my time, and I have seen that look several times before, always before violence and chaos break out, and the balance of power shifts mightily. If such a thing should happen, I would just as soon be by Lady Sorcha’s side with my sword at the ready. Unless, of course, you feel that you are a more proficient fighter? To be fair, I have not seen your prowess with a blade, so I cannot presume to guess at your level of skill.”
Amelia sighed, decidedly unamused. “Very well, then. Give me a pen and paper, and I shall do as you ask and remain behind in this…place.”
“Delightful. And do try not to look quite so glum!” he said with a hearty laugh. “Your surroundings are idyllic, and your hosts will prove tremendously engaging once they get to know you and trust you a bit. By the time you are prepared to return to the castle, I have no doubt that you shall be in fine spirits and in better health than you can ever remember enjoying before! Mark my words, Amelia! You shall see!”
