The Condemned Highlander by Donna Fletcher

13

Brogan watched Annis instruct the men in the various repairs that continued to be made to the existing dwellings and also discussing the new ones planned. At first the few men his father had sent with Brogan seemed annoyed at being here, and that a woman instructed them had ignited some tempers, but after barely three days that had changed. He had thought to warn the men, order them if necessary to follow Annis’s orders. It had not been necessary. Annis handled the men well, having learned from the last time she had been given an opportunity to instruct men and it not going well. This time, she had taken charge without the men realizing it. He noticed the men began to smile and laugh often, as if both had been foreign to them and now were becoming more commonplace.

It also was not lost on Brogan that the men had realized he was not the hard taskmaster his father was and that discovery had made all the difference.

“A word, my lord,” Rudd said.

Brogan stepped away from the tree he had been leaning against. “What is it, Rudd?”

“The men worry about the raven that shows up now and again to perch on a branch and watch them. They believe the bird is a bad omen.”

“I cannot say I blame them,” Brogan said, having caught the beady-eyed bird staring at him a few times. “But there is not much that can be done about it. The bird is free to fly where it wishes.”

“The men had thought of—”

Brogan did not let him finish. “If they think to harm the bird in any way, they will suffer harm themselves—at my hands. The raven is not to be touched.”

The screech of a bird had them both dropping their heads back to look at the overhead branches and see the raven sitting there staring down at them, issuing his own warning.

“I will make sure the men understand, my lord,” Rudd said and could not depart fast enough.

Brogan ignored the raven, since he had little other choice, his glance going to Annis. He was not surprised to see her looking to the hills. Three days and no word from the witch had Annis concerned. He was more worried about her meeting the witch again. How did he protect her when he was not able to see her through the mist? And how did he fight against a witch?

He wasn’t surprised when he saw her turn and approach him. He knew what she would say when she reached him—and he was right.

“We will wander the path tomorrow.”

Her stance alone, her hands planted firmly on her hips, and her sharp tone let him know she would not be dissuaded.

He thought to suggest differently but it would be a futile effort. “If that is what you want.”

“I cannot keep waiting. Every day that goes by I worry more and more for Bliss.”

He tried to offer her some solace. “The witch told you she was safe for now.”

“How long is now?” she argued and shook her head. “Nay, I wait no more. I have instructed the men well and Risley knows much about building. He will be able to guide them. We go tomorrow at first light.”

Brogan glanced toward the hills, worried at what tomorrow may bring.

* * *

Brogan tookher hand as they approached the mist covered hills, little good that it would do if the witch appeared. But he would hold on to her for as long as he could and he would remain where he stood if she disappeared in the mist, knowing last time she had not been that far from him.

The mist grew heavy not long after they entered the path and Brogan tightened his hand around Annis’s. “Watch your tongue with her, Annis.”

“Watching my tongue will get me no answers,” she said.

“I will not see you harmed,” he warned.

“You cannot protect Annis against me.”

Brogan stopped along with Annis, both hearing the sharp voice.

“I would think again on that,” Brogan threatened.

A disgusted sigh echoed around them. “A man in love is the worst fool to deal with. Begone with you.”

Brogan felt Annis’s hand slip out of his and he frantically reached for her only to find himself grasping at nothing more than the mist, and he called out, “I am here, Annis.”

“Brogan!”

His name faded away and fear squeezed at Brogan’s stomach. He could do nothing but wait as the mist grew thicker around him.

Annis watched as the mist parted and once again the witch showed herself. She did not wait to speak her mind. “How long do you expect me to wait?”

“Patience is a virtue,” the witch said.

“For those who have time for it. I have no time for patience. Tell me what I need to know or tell me why I must wait for the information,” Annis demanded and for a moment she thought she caught the witch smile.

“You will learn that time is everything concerning the curse and you will do well to pay it mind. However, the time is right for you to leave this area and continue your quest.”

Annis’s eyes lit with excitement. “The MacWilliam bairn lived, didn’t she?”

“Of course, she did,” the witch said, her chin going up a notch. “Those fools thought they could outwit my curse and they suffered for it and will continue to suffer if you do not see this made right.”

“How do I make it right?” Annis asked anxiously.

“Find the lass, and all will come to pass,” the witch said. “You must find the woman who took the bairn. But beware, there are those who will try to stop you. Those who have other plans. See them for who they are.”

“Can you not tell me who they are?” Annis asked, annoyed.

“They hide behind lies, sprout meaningless words, and remain in the shadows. You will need all your courage to find them.”

Annis understood that was all she would share about the unknown people and that was fine with her. Her concern was more for… “And what of Bliss?”

“Your sister has time yet. As the curse unravels you will understand why. But—” She raised her staff. “If the curse is not broken, then no one is safe. Not Bliss. Not you. Not Elysia. And least of all not the three cursed lords.”

“Why did you give Lady Aila the curse?” Annis asked, more curious than she had ever been about it.

“The men deserved what they got. They claimed themselves friends of Lord Brochan, then turned their backs on him and Lady Aila. They were willing to take the life of an innocent bairn when Lord Brochan had fought beside them to save their families. Lord Lochlann was the worst, having been like a brother to Brochan. I wanted the three lords to suffer more, not so Aila. She wanted her daughter to live, to be able to love, and have a good life.”

“You call them Brochan and Aila as if you knew them well enough to do so,” Annis said.

The witch raised her brow. “Like you do with Lord Brogan?”

“It seems natural to do since I think of him more as a friend.”

The witch’s brow went up even higher. “A friend. I believe you favor him much more than merely a friend, as he does you.”

“We are finding our way,” Annis said. “When this is done, the curse broken, then Brogan and I will see what there is between us.”

“My dear child, if you do not open your eyes to what is in front of you with Brogan, then your quest will certainly end in failure,” the witch warned with sharp annoyance.

Annis took offense to that. “I see Brogan clearly enough. His tongue may charm but he has a good heart, and I know he cares for me. I believe I care for him more than I want to admit, but now is not the time to explore it.”

“For a wise woman, you are a fool when it comes to a man.”

Annis bristled. “I am no fool. I had no wont for a husband. I have seen how some husbands treat their wives and their bairns. I would not tolerate such nonsense or abuse. He would be dead and buried fast enough, so I thought it wise to abstain from marriage.”

The witch laughed. “I suppose that would be wise of you.”

“Most men think me beautiful, but none can tolerate me, except Brogan. He is patient and does not grow upset with me—”

“Or your quick tongue and stubborn nature?”

“He possesses that virtue you highly praise… patience,” Annis said in defense of Brogan. “He kept me from being locked in his father’s dungeon and he defended me against his father and mother.”

“His father is a hard taskmaster.” The witch tapped her chin in question. “Why would he surrender to his son so easily?”

“Brogan’s tongue can charm.”

“Lord Balloch is not a man to be charmed easily. It is one reason Lord Brogan avoids his father. The man does nothing but demand from everyone, especially his son. The one command he expects his son to obey is to wed and produce an heir. I ask you again why Lord Balloch would easily surrender to his son’s demand?”

“He sees it as wise,” Annis said, though the witch’s remark did have her giving a second thought to it.

“If you close your eyes to the obvious, how will you ever find the lass I send you to search for?” the witch asked impatiently.

“You talk in circles,” Annis accused, annoyed with herself for not understanding what the witch implied.

“And you allow the obvious to slip right past you,” the witch snapped. “How will you succeed if you remain blind?”

Annis was quick to snap back. “I have had enough of your riddles. Point me where I need to go to find this woman.”

“Be gone. You disappoint me,” the witch said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“You disappoint me as well,” Annis shot back.

The witch’s eyes narrowed. “And how have I done that, Annis?”

“You avoid answers to some of my questions. Do you wish to misguide me for some reason? Or do you not wish me to know that you obviously were more familiar with Lord Brochan and Lady Aila than you will admit or want anyone to know. And I have to ask myself why?”

“In due time, my dear,” the witch said.

“As I told you, I do not have time, especially for nonsense or what is between Lord Brogan and me. My concern is not only to free my sister but Brogan and the other lords as well. So, stop wasting my time and tell me what I need to know to see this task done,” Annis demanded.

The witch’s face brightened. “Perhaps you are not a disappointment after all, Annis. Head north and those you meet along the way inquire about an older woman who walks with a limp. And since you showed me your true mettle, I will give you this.” She reached into her cloak and withdrew a small pouch. “Take this.”

Annis took it from the witch.

“You will need it to keep yourself from getting with child while on your quest, since your husband is such a virile man. Make a brew and drink it every day though the leaves mixed with your food will work as well.”

Annis stared at the witch, her lips moving but words failing her, until finally she said, “Husband?”

“Think on it, Annis, and I will see you again,” the witch said, her words fading as the mist slowly receded.

Annis’s mind was a jumble of racing thoughts. Several things the witch had said to her returned to haunt her and she began to make sense of them. But it could not be.

The thought struck her hard. She could not be wed to Brogan.

Surely, he would have told her. Yet it all began to make sense. His father not arguing with him about her being taken to the dungeon. How his father so easily agreed to refurbish the small village. That he had told his father to speak with his wife after she had taken a stick to Annis. How Brogan had followed after her—his wife.

Anger bubbled inside her, and she was ready to erupt when the mist cleared.

Brogan stood there, a smile on his face, relieved to see her.

She marched over to him and punched him in the arm. “We are married?”

Brogan rubbed his arm, not that she hurt him. Her fist probably stung more than his arm. “I can explain.”

“You have much to explain,” Annis said, planting her hands on her hips and glaring at him.

Brogan retained his smile, hoping it would help. “It is both our faults we are wed.”

She scrunched her brow and shook her head. “That makes no sense.”

“Think on it, Annis, for I thought the same when I was first told,” he confessed.

“Who told you?”

“Chieftain Emory,” Brogan said. “He caught up with me when I was not far from the keep and explained.”

“I am listening,” she said, fearful the truth would reveal that she was his wife. What then?

“As I said, it was our own doing, which is what Chieftain Emory told me. Once you proclaimed you would wed me, so that Bliss did not have to wed Rannick, and I agreed to the same, to wed you—our fate was sealed. Bliss’s bargain was for you to choose your husband and so you did, and I chose freely to wed you. We accepted each other and the marriage documents were signed and sealed, and we sealed our fate. We are husband and wife.”

Annis shook her head, finding it difficult to believe, and yet finding it plausible.

“I had hoped to get you to agree to wed me before you found out, so that it would be your choice. I believe we make a fine pair and could have a good marriage. I never thought to wed, never found anyone I wished to wed—until you. Regardless of how we feel, we are wed, and nothing is going to change that.”

“I am stuck with you?” she asked.

He stepped closer to her. “Is that how you think of it? That you are stuck with me? Because the way you return my kisses and the way you respond to my touch tells me otherwise.” His hand grabbed at the back of her neck and yanked her toward him, and his lips came down on hers.

It was not a gentle kiss. It was a possessive one. She could sense the strength of his claim on her and thought that he would leave a mark that let others know she belonged to him. Would others see it or was it that she could feel it?

His hands went to cup her face when he ended the powerful kiss that left her legs weak and her passion strong. He rained kisses along her lips, marking them further and leaving them puffed and tingling, and wanting more.

“There is something between us. You can deny it, fight it, ignore it all you want, but it is not going away. You are going to have to confront it whether you want to or not. You are my wife, and I am your husband.”

Annis had no response to his declaration. She simply stared at him, not a hint at what she should say or do.

Brogan took charge. “We can discuss this later.” He reached for her hand, closing his warm one around her chilled one. “Tell me what the witch had to say.”

Annis found her tongue and her courage, or was it her stubbornness that took hold? She ripped her hand out of his. “Husband or not, you will not dictate to me.” She walked off, her anger mounting, not certain if it was the dictate or his failure to tell her they were wed.

Brogan reached her in a few easy strides and took hold of her arm, bringing her to an abrupt stop.

But before he could speak, Annis did. “You could have told me right away.”

“And have you rant and rage at me that you did not want to be my wife, though I cannot say I would blame you. It is far too much to ask of a woman to wed a man as burdened with a curse as I am.”

“Not only burdened with a curse but with a wife you do not want,” she said, annoyed at the tears threatening her eyes and wondering why she was teary-eyed at the thought.

“I never said I did not want you as a wife,” he said, moving closer to her, ready to catch her tears brimming her eyes.

“You said so that day when we were told we would be wed,” she reminded.

“Aye, to save you from wedding me—a cursed man.”

“I am not fearful of the curse. It was your pompous nature that irritated me,” she said, trying to sniffle back her tears and silently admonishing herself for a sensitive nature that did not pair well with her tenaciousness.

He ran his thumb along the corner of one eye, catching the single tear as it slipped out. “And it was your daring tongue that fascinated me.” Another tear slipped out and he caught it.

“What have I done, Brogan? If I had not been so stubborn and wed you when I was told, Bliss would not be in danger.”

“And the curse would not have the chance to be broken,” he said, his arm going around her. “Fate brought us together for a reason, Annis, and I for one am glad she did. But that can wait for another day. You came to save Bliss and that is what we will do.”

“And save you,” she said, another tear trickling down her cheek to be scooped away by his tender touch. “I will save you as well.”

Brogan stared at her a moment and his words surprised him. “If you break the curse and free me, Annis, I will do the same for you. I will free you from this unwanted marriage.”

Her heart slammed in her chest, and she thought it shattered into a million pieces. The pain she felt at that moment left no doubt in her mind—she loved Brogan. And there was no way she wanted to lose him, a sobering thought for sure.

“The choice is yours to make. I will leave it to you,” he said and kissed her gently. “That does not mean I will not try to persuade you to remain my wife.”

“And you think you can do that—persuade me?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“Easily, my ghràdh,” he said with a chuckle.

“That’s a challenge I accept,” she said and stepped away from him to continue along the path to the village.

“A warning. You have no chance against my charm,” he said as he rushed up behind her. “But enough of that. Tell me what the witch had to say.”

Annis detailed her conversation with the witch about the curse.

Brogan stopped just before they reached the village. “The MacWilliam bairn does live?”

“So says the witch and the old woman with the limp will point us to her. ‘Find the lass and all will come to pass’ is what she said. How, I do not know, and I am not going to concern myself with that right now. First, we must find this woman.” He nodded agreeing, but Annis wondered what he truly thought since his father had lied to him about killing the MacWilliam bairn.

Annis also shared the witch’s warning. “She also told me to beware, that there are those who will try to stop me that they have other plans. She told me to see them for who they are. Though it will not be easy since she cautioned that they hide behind lies, sprout meaningless words, and remain in the shadows.”

“She speaks of people who say and show one thing and mean another. They are not easy to recognize. And what other plans could they have? Many want the curse broken and all the suffering that goes with it finally laid to rest, so they would have no problem with our quest.” He shook his head. “It makes no sense.”

“She told me in time, all will be revealed. For now, the quest takes us to find the older woman with a limp.”

Brogan took both her hands in his before she could walk away. “I am going to tell everyone we are wed. More protection will be afforded to you that way.” He kissed her before she could protest. “The decision is not open for discussion.”

“What if in the end I choose not to stay wed to you?” she asked, the suggestion alone a troubling thought.

Her words were like a punch to his gut, and he tried not to let it show, but he did not think he was successful. “We will face that if the time comes.”

She had caught the hurt in his eyes though it vanished fast. Did he care enough for her that he actually wanted her as his wife? She thought him a good man, so wouldn’t he be a good husband to her? And though she didn’t know much about love, she had to admit, at least to herself, that she was falling or had fallen in love with him. If she had found love, would she be foolish enough to let it go? There was time to see how they would fair together. Time to see if what she was feeling for him could be… something she did not want to lose.