Authors: Ruth Langan
C
andles cast an inviting glow over those gathered around the table. Across the room a fire blazed on the hearth. The air that wafted through the windows was perfumed with the scent of heather and roses and all manner of exotic flowers that grew in profusion around the cottage.
Grant leaned back, feeling more content than he could ever remember. “That was a fine meal.”
“I’m glad it pleased you.” Wilona filled goblets with hot mulled wine and passed a plate of biscuits drizzled with honey and nuts. “Now that you’ve had a chance to see some of our kingdom, what do you think?”
He sipped his wine. “It’s even better than anything I could have imagined. The stories told in our land don’t do it justice.” He chuckled. “From the winged horses to the tiny fairies flitting from branch to branch in the trees, it’s simply beyond belief. And yet I saw them, and touched them.”
“And would have ridden Starlight,” Gwenellen interrupted, “if you were a bit smaller.”
Grant nodded at the young woman with the pixie smile. “What I wouldn’t give to ride a winged horse. To fly across the sky…” His voice trailed off before he mentally shook himself. “I saw things today I never would have believed. And if I were to tell such tales in my homeland, the people would scoff.”
“Such as?” Nola looked up.
“I saw Kylia fill her sister’s arms with exotic flowers, the likes of which I’ve never seen in my land, yet she didn’t pick them, but simply willed them into her hands.”
“I could have done it myself if I could just get the proper words,” Gwenellen said with a shrug.
“What’s more, I watched Kylia calm the wind with a stern command.”
“I wasn’t stern.” Kylia tilted her head in challenge. “I’m never stern.”
“Perhaps. But the command seemed stern enough to me. And to the wind, which,” he added with a laugh, “went dead calm as soon as you spoke.”
That had everyone laughing.
Still chuckling, Grant spread his hands. “This place is truly paradise. And the lot of you have gifts beyond the realm of my world.”
Wilona found herself smiling at the easy camaraderie that seemed to have developed between these three young people. “We feel privileged with our gifts and our dwelling place. Perhaps you would consent to stay awhile, so that you can see all that our kingdom has to offer.”
He sighed. “If only I could. But I came here seeking the name of a traitor.” He stared down into his goblet, as though searching for truth in the depths of his wine. “I have been betrayed by someone close to me. Someone who will do whatever it takes to defeat and disgrace me. Someone who has no regard for the pain being inflicted on innocent people.” He looked up and
met the old woman’s eyes. “You asked earlier if I would use that knowledge for revenge. And I ask you. Could I knowingly permit such a person to continue to harm my people? Vengeance may not be mine to take, but I will not look the other way if I can put a stop to it.”
Wilona glanced around the table. “Most men seek wealth or power. Do you not covet such things, my lord?”
Grant shrugged. “I share my wealth with my people. In good times and bad, whatever is mine is theirs.”
“A noble deed, but one expected of a lord. And does not your title laird of the MacCallum clan imply power?”
He smiled. “The one chosen lord must be willing to fight to the death to keep his people free. I’ve given my word that I will do all in my power to honor that pledge. But that is the only power I seek, or shall ever desire. I have no wish to wield my power over others.”
Wilona found herself warming to this young warrior. There was a dignity and honor about him that touched her heart. “Tell me. This truth you seek. What if learning it should bring you even greater heartache?”
“Why should it?”
“You could learn that you are being betrayed by one near and dear to you.”
He frowned, considering the possibility. “I come seeking the truth. If that knowledge brings pain, so be it. I will have to be strong enough to bear it.”
Wilona smiled. “So what you’re really requesting is wisdom and insight along with truth. Do you agree?”
He returned her smile. “Call it what you will, my lady.” He got to his feet and bowed to the others. “By your leave I go now to see to my steed. I must return to my people on the morrow.”
“So soon?” Kylia clapped a hand over her mouth when she realized that everyone had turned to look at her.
Grant gave her a gentle smile. “My lady, my people have been without my protection long enough.” He walked from the cottage.
Almost at once Kylia excused herself and slipped away to the privacy of her room. Minutes later Gwenellen followed.
Seeing the way Nola was staring at the closed door, Wilona drew an arm around her.
“You see?” Nola looked into her mother’s eyes. “It’s as I feared. Already Kylia is mourning the loss of this stranger.”
“It’s only natural.” The older woman ran a hand down her daughter’s hair. “We’ve had so few visitors to our kingdom. You can’t blame Kylia for wanting this young lord to stay.”
“Nay. I can’t.” Nola stared at the floor. “But our loneliness and isolation will seem all the more when he is gone and Kylia finds herself alone with only Gwenellen for company.”
Wilona sighed and patted her daughter’s hand. “What will be will be. We’ll face the morrow when it comes.”
Nola walked to the window of the cottage and watched the silhouette of the man tending his horse by moonlight. In her heart of hearts she knew the morrow would come far too soon to suit her.
The sky was barely streaked with fingers of dawn before the members of the household were awake and seeing to their morning chores.
Jeremy added fresh wood to the fire, while Wilona lifted perfectly baked scones and Bessie
stirred a bowl of still-warm fruit preserves. Nola put the finishing touches on a gown of soft cream wool that she’d been stitching for Gwenellen. The two sisters returned to the cottage, giggling over secrets and carrying a basket of eggs between them.
Grant paused in the doorway of the cottage and felt the quick tug at his heart when he caught sight of Kylia. She was unlike any maiden he’d ever known. There was a shyness, a sweetness about her that set her apart from the women in his world. And yet, for all her innocence, she seemed aware of him in a womanly way. He’d felt the heat whenever they touched, and sensed that she felt it, too. But though she did nothing to encourage him, neither did she discourage him. She was a strange one. He wished he had more time to stay and figure her out. But he had an obligation to his people. As much as he loved seeing her world, it was time to return to his.
He stepped out into the morning sunshine and breathed in the sweet, fresh air.
“Good morrow, my lord.” Wilona set aside her spoon and dried her hands on a square of linen. “How did you sleep?”
“Well enough.” In truth, he’d been beset by strange dreams, seeing the faces of family and friends, all turned against him.
“We will break our fast now,” Wilona announced, leading the way inside.
Grant shrugged aside his unsettling thoughts and followed her. At the table he sipped a goblet of mulled wine and nibbled eggs and scones slathered with fruit conserve.
“You seem distracted, my lord. Is the food not to your liking?”
He turned to Wilona. “Forgive me, my lady. My thoughts are on those I left behind.”
“Have you a wife, my lord? A family?”
Across the table, Kylia held her breath.
He shook his head. “There is only my brother, Dougal.”
Kylia felt a hand on hers, and looked over to see Gwenellen smiling. A matching smile stole over her own lips.
“There is also an elderly aunt, Hazlet.” Grant found himself staring at Kylia’s mouth. Even from this distance he could feel the warmth of that sweet smile. “She was sister to my father, and serves as mistress of my home.”
“Did your aunt never wed?”
“Nay. She lost her heart to a warrior, who was killed on the field of battle. She chose to live alone rather than love another.”
Nola felt her daughters’ glances and lowered her head. Though her husband Kenneth Drummond had been gone since she was ten and nine, she missed him still. Some would consider her life a lonely one. She felt no such loneliness, for she had her memories to comfort her. And much preferred them to a flesh-and-blood man who could never take the place of her Kenneth.
The silence was broken as Grant set aside his goblet. “You know the favor I seek. Which of you will be gracious enough to give me the name of my enemy?”
Wilona turned and fixed her middle granddaughter with a look. “It is Kylia’s gift to see the soul through a person’s eyes. If anyone can identify the one who betrays you, it is she.”
Grant pushed away from the table and dropped to his knees before Kylia, bowing his head. “You healed my wounds, my lady. Now I ask that you heal the wounds of my people by revealing the name of my enemy.”
Kylia was aware of the way her family was watching, but all she could see was this man, this mighty lord and warrior, bowing humbly before her to ask a favor. A favor that only she could grant.
She placed a hand on either side of his face and lifted it until she was looking into his eyes. She was jolted by the sadness revealed in their depths. Hadn’t she seen this man and his sorrow since she was but a child? She believed with all her heart that he had been fated to come here, just as she had been fated to be here awaiting his arrival in her kingdom.
“Your pain touches me deeply, Lord MacCallum. I promise to do my best to learn the name of the one who betrays you.”
He caught her hands in his and pressed a kiss to each palm. “I thank you, my lady. And I await your word.”
At the touch of his lips to her flesh, Kylia’s eyes widened and she was forced to absorb a rush of heat that left her shaken to her very core. She shook her head. “You misunderstand, my lord. I cannot simply look into your eyes and see all that you desire. There is but one way for me to recognize your enemy.”
“And how is that?”
“By looking into his eyes.”
It took him a moment to realize what she was saying. “You would willingly leave this paradise and accompany me to my home?”
“I know of no other way to discern your enemy, my lord.”
He seemed overwhelmed by her words. “You realize I must leave within the hour.”
She nodded. “I’ll make ready to leave, as well.”
“Nay. It’s too soon.” Nola pushed away from the table, unable to stop the words of protest that sprang to her lips.
Everyone turned to look at her.
She clasped her hands together and stared at the floor. “You’re far too young to consider leaving home, Kylia.”
“At my age you were wed and had three children, Mother.”
“But you’ve led a sheltered life. You’re ill prepared for the world beyond our shores.”
“Perhaps. But I’ll learn, as Allegra learned. As you and Gram learned.” Kylia turned pleading eyes to her grandmother. “What good are
our gifts if we have no chance to use them? Aren’t we being selfish if we keep ourselves hidden away here, when there are those in need of us in that other world beyond our shores?”
“What about me?” Gwenellen caught her sister’s hand and felt tears well up. She blinked hard to keep them from spilling over. “How can you leave me here alone, Kylia?”
“You could come with me.”
The young girl shook her head sadly. “I can’t leave Mum and Gram.” Her lips pursed into a pout. “Please don’t leave me, Kylia. What will I do with both you and Allegra far away?”
Her sister gathered her close. Against her temple, she whispered, “I shall miss you terribly. But I must do this, don’t you see? I believe it is my fate to do so.”
Nola gripped the back of the chair and studied her middle daughter as though memorizing every line and curve of that lovely face. “Can you not give us a few more days?”
Kylia turned to Grant, who had watched and listened in silence.
He squared his shoulders. “I wish it could be so. I’ve been gone long enough. I must return to my people now.”
Kylia nodded. “Then I go with you. Now.”
As they started toward the door, Nola picked up a heavy traveling cloak and draped it around her daughter’s shoulders.
Kylia paused and turned.
Nola managed a weak smile as she lifted a hand to the fasteners. “I was just your age when I wore this. You’ll have need of it. The weather in that other world is not as gentle as ours.”
Kylia wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and hugged her fiercely. After, without a word she embraced her grandmother, then her sister, before pausing to hug Bessie and Jeremy.
She stepped out the door where Grant was holding the reins of his steed.
He paused a moment to look down into her upturned face. “You’re sure of this?”
She nodded, too overcome by the enormity of what she was doing to speak. There was a lump in her throat the size of a rock.
He lifted her to the saddle, then pulled himself up behind her. With a quick salute to her family, he flicked the reins and the horse took off at a run.
As the horse and its riders crested a hill, the
three women stretched out their hands to one another and formed a circle. As they began to chant the ancient words, Kylia lifted her head. Even above the sound of splashing as the horse entered the Enchanted Loch, she could hear the words clearly. As the water rose, she rolled her cloak into a bundle and tied it behind the saddle before slipping into the water. Grant was amazed by the ease with which she swam, easily keeping pace beside him. With each powerful stroke, he thought he heard chanting.
By the time they’d reached the far shore, he could hear the chanting inside his mind. And though the words were foreign to him, he found them oddly soothing.
“You’ll need this to keep warm until your gown dries, my lady.” He unrolled her cloak and draped it around her. As he did, he felt the quick jolt. Though he’d prepared himself for it, it still managed to catch him off guard. He allowed his hand to linger as he lifted the hood and tucked her wet hair inside.