The Condemned Highlander by Donna Fletcher
22
“How is it you always get your way?” Brogan asked, shaking his head and keeping his hand clamped firmly around his wife’s as they set foot on the path to the witch.
“I am persuasive,” Annis said, glad for the brightness of the nearly full moon that lit the path well enough.
“You mean relentless,” he corrected, the snap of a branch causing him to cast a cautious glance about. “This is madness. Anything can be hiding in the darkness that surrounds us.”
“You truly think the witch would summon me and leave me unprotected?” she asked as though it were a logical conclusion.
“You… not me,” he clarified.
“We are one. She hurts you, then she hurts me, and I will make that clear, though I believe she is already aware of it.”
He was a bit more skeptical than his wife. Besides, he did not trust the witch. How could he when she had empowered the curse that had brought him and others endless suffering?
“If she wants to see you so badly, where is she? Where is the fog?”
“You think I need fog to appear?”
Instinct had Brogan stepping in front of his wife to shield her as the witch suddenly appeared a short distance in front of them.
“Good to know you would die for her,” the witch said.
Annis hurried in front of her husband and shook a finger at the witch. “You dare hurt my husband and I will see you suffer for it.”
The witch laughed. “I am trembling with fear.”
“You two are much alike,” Brogan said, wondering how to deal with both stubborn women.
The witch looked at Brogan as she slowly stretched her arm out from her side and pointed. “Go wait over there while I speak with Annis.”
“I do not take well to orders,” Brogan threatened.
The witch scowled. “In that we are alike. Go! Wolf will keep you company.”
Red eyes glared in the darkness before a large wolf appeared.
“Not much of a name,” Brogan said.
“It suits him well since he is leader of his pack. Would you like to meet them?” the witch asked with a sneer.
“Stop threatening my husband,” Annis warned.
“Or what?” the witch challenged, a glare in her eye most people would fear.
Brogan understood that his wife was not like most people—she would not back down from the powerful woman. He took her by the shoulders, forcing her to turn and look at him. “I will wait where she says. I can see you from there.” He kissed her cheek and whispered, “Watch your tongue.”
Annis kept an eye on her husband until he sat on a flat boulder and the wolf eased his backside down not far from Brogan to stare at him.
Annis turned to the witch. “That wolf better not harm my husband.”
“As long as your husband gives him no reason, he will be safe. Enough of such nonsense, I summoned you for a reason. “You found the woman with the limp?”
Annis nodded. “I did and we brought her here to the village, but she is of little help. A woman crippled with age told her that the MacWilliam bairn lives and that Gunna gave the little lass to a childless couple since she knew she would be hunted, then she disappeared. She also said that Gunna has returned to protect the lass from the three lords one last time.”
“And so it begins,” the witch whispered.
“What begins?”
“The wrong being righted and ultimately the demise of the curse,” the witch said.
Annis shook her head. “I do not understand. This woman, Gunna, will see the wrong made right?”
The witch cast an annoyed look on Annis. “You are not paying attention. The curse was cast. The only thing that could stop it was the death of the MacWilliam lass. Gunna made certain that did not happen. She disappeared, sacrificed everything to see the MacWilliam lass kept safe.”
Annis began to understand. “And now that the time draws near for the wrong to be made right, she has returned to make certain her promise to Lady Aila is kept. But how does she save the lass this time?” Her eyes shot wide. “Gunna is here to protect the lass’s identity.”
The witch smiled.
Anger flared in Annis. “If that is so, she will stop me from finding her.”
“You will need to ask Gunna that.”
“Why send me to find the woman with the limp if it is Gunna I must speak with?” Annis demanded.
“The woman with the limp provided you with information you needed.”
“All she said was that the bairn was given to a childless couple,” Annis said. “How does that help me find Gunna or the child when it was near to twenty years ago?”
“Think on it, Annis,” the witch snapped.
Annis snapped back. “Bliss has no time for me to think on it.”
“She has no time for you not to think on it. Need I remind you that if this curse is not broken, Bliss will not be the only one to suffer being wed to a cursed lord—you will as well. And worse, any bairns born of your union.”
“I will make certain I conceive no bairn if that should come to pass,” Annis said with an obstinate toss of her chin.
“Bairns are a stubborn lot. They decide when they will be born, and you will not stop it. So, do what must be done to find the MacWilliam lass.”
Annis repeated what the witch had previously told her. “Find the lass and all will come to pass. It sounds easy and yet—”
“It is not,” the witch said. “Remember there are those who hide in the shadows and want something far different than you. Lies come easily to them. Listen and you will hear it for yourself. It grows late and the hills can be dangerous at night. There is a small dwelling just past the stream where two boulders hug like a loving couple. Seek shelter there tonight.”
“I do not understand,” Annis said shaking her head. “You are a witch. You know things. Why do you not know where the bairn is?”
“You and others may call me a witch, but I am a woman wise with vast knowledge—knowledge that is feared rather than embraced and understood. Even with all the knowledge I have gained, there are still some things I do not know. But that does not stop me from finding out.”
Annis smiled. “So basically, you are sending me to collect knowledge.”
The witch returned the smile. “There are times you do not disappoint, Annis. Embrace the knowledge you collect. All of it will serve you well.”
“There is something that nags at me, that does not seem quite right.”
“What is that?” the witch asked.
“The servant Gunna’s unrelenting mission to keep the MacWilliam bairn safe. What servant would surrender her life for a lord or lady’s bairn? It makes no sense, unless…” Annis spoke with confidence. “I or my sisters would surrender our lives to keep a niece safe or disappear and leave all who I love behind and return when needed. Gunna was not Lady Aila’s servant—she was her sister, wasn’t she?”
The witch stared at Annis for several moments, then she nodded. “You are perceptive, and you unravel secrets quickly. Be careful, for some secrets will bring danger.”
The darkness seemed to reach out and swallow her or had she retreated into it, for the next moment she was gone.
“Annis.”
Brogan stood a short distance from her. “The wolf left.”
“So did the witch,” she said and stretched her hand out to him to steady herself, a tremble running through her legs.
His arms went around her, alarmed at the tremor in her body and relieved when she sagged against him in relief.
“Gunna, the servant who hid the MacWilliam bairn, is Lady Aila’s sister,” she said.
“I never heard my father make mention of that.” Brogan wrapped himself tighter around his wife as lightning flashed in the sky. “We need to get back to the village, the thunder rumbles closer.”
“No one knew of it,” she said and slipped her arm around her husband’s. “The witch said we should take shelter in a small dwelling by the stream. Come, it is where to boulders hug like a loving couple.”
Brogan set a good pace, prepared to scoop his wife up and carry her if the dark clouds got any closer to swallowing the nearly full moon and snuffing out what light guided them.
As the first fat raindrops fell, Annis spied the dwelling and as Brogan rushed them inside, the sky opened up and soaked the earth. Wood sat in the hearth ready to spark to life and a bed was freshly prepared with linens.
“It seems we were expected,” Brogan said.
Annis paced by the bed while Brogan saw to getting a fire started.
“Something is not right,” Annis said.
“What do you mean?” Brogan asked as the fire caught and its warmth was soon filling the room.
Annis stopped pacing. “The witch is keeping something from us, I can feel it. Why not tell me that Gunna was Lady Aila’s sister? And if your father did not know of it, why had it been kept a secret? And who exactly knew about it?”
Her annoyance was palpable. It sparked around him like a flame that had yet to catch.
“There is much more to this than she tells me. Why is that? Why does she choose to keep things from me? What is she afraid of?”
“You cannot mean to think she is fearful,” Brogan asked, the thought absurd.
Annis turned on her husband, agitated. “I tell you there is more to what surrounds this curse than she says.”
“What makes you believe that?”
“Her avoidance,” Annis said. “It is like she wants me to know something yet needs me to find it out myself.”
“Why would she want you to do that?”
“I do not know,”—she threw her hands up in frustration—“though I wish I did. And what about those who lie to us that she continues to warn about? Who are they and what do they lie about?”
Brogan felt the guilt like a stab to his gut. “There is something I have not told you.”
Her stomach twisted. “You have lied to me?”
“Not exactly,” he said. “It was a secret I was bound to, but no longer.”
“What secret?” Annis shook her head. “Tell me before I go mad with worry.”
“Weeks ago, Lord Odran rescued Clan Loudon from attack.”
“Una told me, and I was sorry to hear that Chieftain Emory succumbed to wounds received in battle.” Her eyes turned wide. “Something has happened to Elysia?”
There was no other way to tell her, and she had a right to know. “Saber hid his true identity. He is Lord Odran—the silent Highlander.”
Annis staggered back, the news shocking. “The very thing Bliss fought so hard to protect us from, marrying any of the cursed lords. Now all three of us are wed to them. I am assuming Elysia now knows her husband’s true identity?”
“There is no hiding it now with Lord Odran having saved Clan Loudon from defeat.”
“I do not only fight to keep Bliss safe but Elysia as well,” she said, realizing how important her quest had become. She shook her head. “Elysia chose to wed Saber—Lord Odran—of her own free will and sealed her fate, didn’t she?”
“Aye, she did,” Brogan said, “and from what I have heard they truly love each other.”
Annis sat on the side of the bed. “Elysia did favor Saber and he was kind and gentle with her.” Her head shot up to glare at her husband. “Tell me Lord Odran is no different than Saber.”
“I can tell you that Saber’s love for your sister is no different than Odran’s,” Brogan said.
Her mind was filled with far too many disturbing thoughts. She needed to let them go like she did when something she was constructing posed a problem. She would give it time, move away from it so she could better understand it and see it more clearly before solving the issue. That is what she needed to do now—clear her head.
“Make love to me,” she demanded.
Brogan’s brow shot up. He knew what she wanted from him. He had sought it himself often enough when his mind troubled him. Meaningless coupling.
“Nay,” he snapped. “I will not couple with you meaninglessly, so you can avoid what troubles you. Our love means more to me than that.”
“I cannot believe you refuse to make love with me,” she said, more than a bit shocked.
“I cannot believe you would ask me to pointlessly couple with you,” he shot back, annoyed.
She drew back her head as if he had struck her. “Pointlessly couple? Is that what you think I want from you? What I need from you?” She silently cursed the tears that gathered in her eyes.
He had been rash in refusing her. But how did he explain how her words had stung and brought back memories of how he had lost himself in women whose names and faces he could no longer recall. He did not want that with her and if he had not allowed his memories to sting, he would have realized their lovemaking would never be pointless.
“I spoke out of turn,” he said, rushing his fingers through his hair, not sure how to right the hurt he had caused her. The tears that glistened in her eyes ready to spill stabbed at his heart. She cried easily, often at foolish things, but this time he had caused her tears and that was something he never wanted to do.
“You spoke out of turn. I spoke out of love. If I cannot come to you in need…” She shook her head. “I never gave thought, not for a moment, that you would deny me.”
Brogan hated himself at that moment and all he wanted to do was snatch her up in his arms and beg her forgiveness for being such a fool.
“Annis,” he said and stepped toward her.
Her hand shot up stopping him. “I need a moment of privacy.” She went to the door.
“It’s raining,” he reminded, the fear she would run from him once she stepped outside squeezing at his heart.
“I need a moment alone,” she insisted and swung open the door.
Brogan let loose with a curse as he went after her. She was several steps ahead of him. The dark clouds rushed across the moon, leaving intermittent flashes of light.
“ANNIS,” he yelled, cursing his foolishness that drove her away from him.
She stopped and turned and just then light peeked through the clouds and his heart shattered seeing the sorrow on her lovely face. But what broke his heart even more was that she stretched her arms out to him, forgiving him, giving him another chance. He seized it and was about to rush to her when a dark figure emerged in haste from behind her and snatched her away.
