The Condemned Highlander by Donna Fletcher

6

The sky was overcast when Annis and Brogan left for the hills and the mist hung heavy over the top of them.

“Will your father send men to help prepare the small village for winter?” Annis asked as they walked. “If not, I fear the older ones will not survive, especially Seward.”

“When my father arrives here, I will make sure he understands the urgency,” Brogan said with a strong conviction that left no doubt he would see it done.

Annis did not hold as much hope as Brogan. “Yet he has ignored the small group all these years. Why now would it make any difference to him?”

Brogan grinned. “You underestimate my talent to persuade.”

“I hope you are better at it with your father than you have been with me, or it is doomed to fail.” Annis hid her laugh beneath her breath.

“You are a challenge, leannan, but I love a challenge.”

Love.

Annis had not given much thought to love. At most, it had seemed an inconvenience to her. Something that was not necessary to her life. She had known herself to be a determined lass since she had been young, though some would call it willful. How did she ever accomplish what she hoped, dreamed to accomplish if she wasn’t willful? No one would pay heed to her ideas concerning building. Not so, Brogan. He actually encouraged her. To have a husband who encouraged her passion to construct, would be something she never thought possible and was possibly the reason marriage never appealed to her. She did not want a husband who discouraged or forbid her propensity for designing and building all forms of structures, large or small.

“Do you wish to find love?” she asked.

“Is it that we wish to find love or is it that we wish to be loved?” Brogan asked.

Annis stopped briefly for a moment. “I never thought of it that way. Do you wish to be loved?”

“It would take an extraordinarily brave woman to love me.”

“That is not what I asked, Brogan. Do you wish to be loved?” she asked again.

Brogan threw her question back at her. “What of you? Do you wish to be loved?”

She chuckled. “Does my question frighten you so much that you evade it?”

“Answer me, mo ghràdh, and I will answer you,” he challenged.

“I can do that since I do not fear the question. I have never given much thought to love, probably because I have been well-loved by my sisters. And if I were to wed, I would prefer a man who accepted me for the determined woman I am. But I suddenly find myself wondering if perhaps love would make a marriage more worthwhile. To have a man who gave his heart to me, cherished me, protected me—even though I do not shy away from protecting myself—would be a good foundation for a marriage. It would be like constructing a sturdy building. Without a strong foundation, a building would eventually collapse. Love just might be the firm foundation that is needed for a good marriage.” She smiled and poked him. “Your turn.”

Words failed Brogan for the moment, her words striking a powerful chord in him. “I do want to be loved, but as I said once to you, how fair would that be to my wife, knowing I would live on, and she would die? It is a lot to ask of someone.”

“It isn’t the question you fear, it is the answer. ‘My heart would break a thousand times over to lose the woman I loved.’ Those were your words to me. But you fail to consider how much that woman would love you and how unfair it would be never to let her love you at all.”

Brogan stared at her. Never had he thought of it that way. He had only thought of his own hurt, never considering the pain of his refusal to love the woman who loved him because he knew one day it would be he who lost her.

Annis shook her head. “Now I understand why marriages are arranged. Love can be far too confusing—yet love could be the very thing that makes marriages well-worthwhile.”

The mist suddenly swirled around them and grew denser.

“You will keep hold of my hand,” Brogan cautioned, reaching out to take her hand.

Annis locked her fingers with his tightly. “Do you believe the witch controls the mist?”

“I do not know, though it is believed that a witch’s magic can be strong.”

“I hope you are right,” Annis said, squinting her eyes to see through the thickening mist. “For if she is strong, then she will not have a problem telling me what I need to know.”

“I am being selfish, Annis, when I say I do hope you are successful.”

“You hope, yet you doubt,” Annis said.

“If I had not already walked this path, my hope would be stronger, but a kernel of it exists due to your,” —he chuckled— “willful nature.”

She stopped abruptly, her free hand gripping his upper arm. “Did you see that?”

His body tensed in alarm and his head swerved around, his eyes searching the mist. “See what?”

“A flash of something dark.” Annis turned her head as anxiously as Brogan, glancing around and struggling to see through the mist.

“It could be an animal if it moved fast,” Brogan said, moving his hand to rest on the hilt of his sword at his waist.

“It was fast,” Annis confirmed. “No more than a flash.”

“The mist blinds and that is dangerous. An animal could be lying in wait,” Brogan said, his eyes continuing to search.

“I have only seen small animals,” Annis said more to comfort herself than believing it the truth.

“Wolves,” Brogan whispered.

Annis wondered if she had not been meant to hear that. “I have heard no wolf howls since I have been here.” She cringed since, of course, at that precise moment a wolf’s howl echoed through the misty woods, long and powerful.

“We need to leave here. Wolves travel in packs,” Brogan cautioned.

The sudden thought in her head slipped past her lips. “Maybe the wolf belongs to the witch, and he announces her arrival. Did you ever hear a wolf howl the various times you were here?”

His answer would only make the situation worse, but he could not lie to her. “Nay, I never heard a wolf howl when I was here.”

She squeezed his arm and excitement filled her eyes and words. “She is letting us know she is here.”

“Or she sends her wolf to eat us,” Brogan warned, worried he could be right. “We keep walking.” He tugged at her hand to pick up the pace.

“We need to slow our pace, not go faster, to let her know we are here to speak with her,” Annis said, though had no choice but to keep up with his quicker pace, since his hand remained clamped tight around hers.

“I am not taking a chance with a wolf nearby,” Brogan said.

Annis.

Brogan hurried to prevent her from tumbling against him, she stopped so abruptly.

“Did you hear that?” she asked, her eyes as wide as full moons as she cast a glance about. “My name. She called my name.”

Brogan listened but did not think he would hear anything, and he did not.

“You did not hear it, did you?” Annis asked, seeing the dour look on his face. She looked more closely, realizing she could see his face a bit more clearly than only moments ago. “The mist thins.”

Brogan saw it then for himself and he was glad for it. He intended to get them out of there as fast as possible.

Annis looked around as the mist retreated, rolling away as if by command. “She knows I am here to see her. It is only a matter of time before she shows herself. She tapped Brogan’s chest. “Maybe it is your presence that stops her. Maybe she wants to meet with only me.”

“That will not happen. You will never come here alone,” Brogan ordered.

“What was that you told me about never saying never?” she asked sweetly.

“I mean it, Annis. You are not to come here alone,” he commanded.

“You are not my husband and cannot dictate to me,” she argued.

He had to bite his tongue. She would learn soon enough and there was time yet for all hell to break loose.

“Bliss would expect me to protect you,” he said, hoping that by mentioning her sister it would give her pause to think, which it did—in the wrong way.

Annis laughed. “Bliss sacrificed herself to save me from you. She would be telling me to run from you.”

“Not in this situation,” he argued.

He was right about that, and she admitted it. “True enough, but she would also warn me to be careful and not trust lightly.”

“You can trust me, Annis,” Brogan said.

“And what reason do I have to do that?” she asked, not at all accusingly but pragmatically, since she already trusted him but wanted to hear his reason.

“You have my word on it and while the curse has robbed me of much, it has not robbed me of my word. Trust me, Annis, it is the one thing you can be sure of.”

Strangely enough, she was confident of her trust in him.

With the mist lifted, they walked in silence along the path until they both spotted something and stopped to stare down at it.

“Is that what I think it is?” Annis asked.

“Aye,” Brogan said, his eyes focused on the ground. “It is a paw print of a wolf.”

* * *

Two days—two days—sinceshe had last explored the path. First, it was the rain and now the mist so heavy at the base of the hills that you could not see where you stepped.

“It will have to wait,” Brogan said and gave Annis’s hand a tug to return to the village.

“She travels in the mist. This is the time to find her,” Annis argued.

“Nothing can be seen, not in front of you or beneath you. There is no telling what might happen, what might attack, what misstep might be taken. We wait and I will hear no more about it,” Brogan said with a command that rose the hairs on Annis’s neck. “I will not have you eaten by a wolf.”

Annis groaned and shook her head when the cry of a wolf echoed along the hills.

“I cannot keep delaying this,” she protested. “Bliss’s life depends on it.”

“Did this man Nolan who told you about the witch mention anything about a wolf?’ Brogan asked.

She hated to admit it. “Nay, he made no mention of a wolf at all.” She made no mention of the ravens.

“Then that says much, and you would be wise to think on it,” Brogan said and waited, keeping hold of her hand, worried she would hurry into the thick mist before he could stop her.

“I suppose you are right,” she grudgingly admitted.

“We will try again tomorrow,” Brogan assured her.

Annis nodded, but wondered if there would come a time, she would have to walk the path alone.

Reluctantly, Annis returned to the village, Brogan’s hand firm around hers. They entered the small village to find the people huddled in talk.

“Is something amiss?” Brogan asked as he and Annis approached the group.

The small group exchanged skeptical glances.

Iver was the one who spoke. “We weren’t sure if we should tell you but hearing the cry of a wolf for a second time, we thought it best we did.”

“Tell us what?’ Brogan asked.

Iver rushed to say, “The last time the wolf was heard here in the hills was just before Lady Aila cast the curse.”

A chill rushed through Annis along with curiosity. What did it mean? Why had the wolf returned? Or was it the witch who had returned? It would explain why Una never came across the witch when she ventured in that area and why Brogan and the two other cursed lords never found her—she hadn’t been there. If so, what had caused her return?

Annis wanted to discuss it with Brogan but now wasn’t a good time. Meat was needed for supper, and she was eager for the work to continue on the stone shed. With that done, they could concentrate on at least making repairs to the existing dwellings.

“I have some thoughts,” Brogan said, taking a moment to talk with her before going off to hunt.

“As do I,” Annis said excitedly. “You and the other cursed lords never found the witch because—”

“She wasn’t here,” Brogan said with the same excitement as Annis.

Annis turned a puzzled look on him. “Something has caused her to return.”

“You,” he said.

Annis shook her head. “Nay, not me. There is more to her return.”

“I need to go and get the hunting done so I can return and help get the stone shed completed. Then we can start on something else. Think on it as will I and we will talk later,” he said and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Annis rested her hand to her cheek as she stared after him. She didn’t mind the kiss, but to kiss her in front of the small group for all to see when she was not his wife was not something he should have done. It had to be obvious to him that she would be intimate with no man unless wedding vows were exchanged. Yet he kissed her as if she already belonged to him? Why? Was he letting her and everyone there know his intentions? Had their talk of marriage and love swayed him toward a decision?

She shook her head. He did not love her—did he? She shook her head again. That was a foolish thought. Though—she was growing accustomed to him and found she enjoyed his company. And she did like when they kissed. Heat rushed to redden her cheeks. Kissing was one thing, coupling another. She might enjoy his company and his kisses, but him touching her in places she barely touched herself was not something she could fathom.

“You can see that Lord Brogan loves you.”

Annis turned around so fast to face Una that she almost stumbled. “He does not love me.”

Una laughed. “I know little about love, but one would have to be a fool not to see it in his eyes when he looks at you.”

“Una’s right,” Maddie said, joining them. “Lord Brogan loves you powerfully and he does not hide it. The man has lost his heart to you. But he is a cursed lord and unless you succeed in breaking the curse, I would run from him if I were you. Or the curse will touch you as well.”

* * *

Yesterday had passed far too quicklyand Annis never got a chance to talk with Brogan about the witch or anything. She had yawned so much after supper that he had gently ordered her to bed, promising they would talk in the morning before they headed to the hills for another wander on the path. She had woken early with thoughts on whether or not she should ask him if he loved her. It seemed logical to find out, yet her reasoning also brought her to the conclusion that he would ask her if she loved him. And she did not have an answer for him—at least not yet. Her decision then had been made easily. She would say nothing and watch to find out if she could see what the others saw—that he loved her.

He was waiting for her when she stepped out of the dwelling.

“The air is chilled this morning,” he said and reached for her hand.

She gave it to him as she always did, though this time she wondered if it was because she had grown accustomed to the gesture or because she wanted to feel her hand in his. It did not take her long to decide. It was because she liked the way his hand greeted hers, eagerly, wrapping around it snug as though he had missed her and was happy to be joined with her.

“I have started another fire, so as not to disturb Iver,” Brogan said, and they walked over to it. “I am glad you woke so we have time to talk before the others wake.”

Annis spotted an eagerness in his blue eyes that she had not noticed before and it took her only a moment to see something else shining there quite strongly—hope.

“My thoughts have been on the witch all night,” Brogan admitted.

She surprised herself when she asked, “Not me?” She gave a quick chuckle, so it appeared she meant it as humorous. Hadn’t she?

“Was I on your thoughts last night?” he asked with a grin and was taken aback by her response.

“You haunted my thoughts and dreams all night.” She had seen no reason to lie to him or avoid his question as he did hers. And from the expression on his face—sheer shock—she was glad she had. Seeing that, she decided to leave it there and let the thought stir in him. “Tell me about your thoughts on the witch.”

Brogan ran his hand through his hair, her response shocking and delighting him. He wanted to pursue what she had said, find out what thoughts and dreams of him had haunted her, since her remark had not been punctuated with laughter as her previous one. She had been serious, but she had also moved on away from it and he would let it be—for now.

“I wonder if the witch had marked her time and intended to return here now, at this specific time,” Brogan said, having given it much thought.

“If what you suggest is true, then she returns at this particular time for a reason,” Annis said.

Brogan nodded. “A reason that concerns the curse.”

“Why though after all this time? What has changed?” Annis asked, annoyed no answer was forthcoming. She turned a determined glare on Brogan. “I need to summon her. I need to call out to her when we wander the path today. She needs to know I wish to speak with her.”

“Calling a witch forth can be dangerous,” he cautioned, worried for her safety. “The witch is sure to want something from you.”

“I was warned about that, but Bliss’s bargain was gained at a far higher cost—her life. I will do what I need to do to see her safe.”

“You will not do it without me by your side,” he ordered, his eyes turning stern. “And if you think to trade your life for Bliss’s life, that is not something she would want you to do.”

Annis turned quiet.

“Tell me you will not even consider such a bargain,” Brogan said with a tinge of anger. “It would defeat the whole purpose of reaching out to the witch if you were to die for your sister to go free.”

“But it would not only be my sister who goes free,” Annis said, and seeing the worry and anger in his eyes, kissed his cheek. “You would be free and so would the other two cursed lords. Four people free for one life.”

Brogan grabbed her face in his hands. “Listen well, Annis, your life isn’t less important than mine or anyone else. Bliss would never forgive you for trading your life for hers, and I would see the witch dead by my bare hands if you attempted to do something so foolhardy.” He was no sooner finished, then he kissed her.

The kiss overpowered Annis, it feeling as if he laid claim to her, marked her as his so another could never touch her.

He rested his brow to hers when he ended the kiss. “Give me your word you will not bargain with your life, not for any reason.”

His kiss had set her heart to pounding and left her a bit breathless. She nodded and whispered, “You have my word.”

Yet at that moment she knew that if it came to a choice of saving him, she might have to revoke her promise, and that was when she realized that she just might be falling in love with the condemned lord.

Brogan kissed her quick, relieved she had given her word, though knowing how willful she could be, he intended to keep a more cautious eye on her. “The village stirs. We will talk more when we are alone.”

The sun poked its face out for a short time before an overcast sky hurried over it and the two continued to duel for dominance as morning blossomed.

After the morning meal and Annis got finished explaining what needed to be done on the stone shelter, she and Brogan made ready to leave for the hills. All heads turned when thunder seemed to rumble in the distance, but with the sun having presently conquered the clouds, a storm seemed unlikely.

It took a moment for everyone to realize that it wasn’t thunder they heard, it was horses’ hooves pounding the earth. Fright filled the few faces there and Una hurried to her da’s side, his arm going protectively around her. And Annis hurried to Brogan.

Twenty warriors entered the village led by a man who sat his horse with pride and arrogance. The way fear grew on the faces there, it left little doubt to Annis as to who he was.

The man brought his horse to an abrupt halt in front of Brogan and pointed his finger at him. “You, son, will return home with me, and she,” —he jabbed a finger toward Annis— “will be taken to where she belongs—the dungeon.”