Read Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set Online
Authors: Kathryn Loch
Tags: #Historical Medieval Scottish Romance
“All babes are born with blue eyes,” Lia said, “But it seems Maeve’s will stay that way. Your brother’s are so light they appear gray, and yours are a pale blue. Methinks hers will be darker.”
As they ascended the stairs, the door to the solar opened. “Where be my brother!” Ronan bellowed. “I saw him in the bailey.”
“Peace!” Aidan barked then looked to the bairn he carried as she squirmed. He purposefully lowered his voice. “I was just getting acquainted with my niece.”
Aidan entered the solar to see Ronan grinning at him. “We’ve missed ye,” Ronan said, gripping his shoulder.
The wee bairn in his arms opened her eyes, took one good look at her uncle, and screwed up her face, emitting a healthy wail.
“Oh dear,” Lia said reaching for the child.
Aidan grinned ruefully and handed the bairn over. Maeve quieted as Lia sat at the table and put her to breast, covering herself with the bairn’s blanket.
Aidan settled in his chair at the table. Aye, it was very good to be home. Even though he wished his little sparrow with honey-gold hair and brilliant emerald eyes could have accompanied him. He scowled. Where in the hell had that come from? But ever since his rescue of the wee lassie, he could not rid his thoughts of her. She possessed them so totally he could not think of anyone else. What was wrong with him?
Despite all Kenna had suffered, she had been willing to meet her future with courage, one that had been a complete change from what she had known. But she had embraced the opportunity. Her dreadful experience had not cowed her, seemingly giving her a resolve to face the unknown and overcome her fears.
He was weary, that was why his thoughts remained focused on Kenna. As soon as he ate, told his brother his news, and got some rest, no doubt he would be as right as rain.
Aidan sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes.
Ronan studied him, his smile vanishing. “Aidan?”
“I’m just weary. It was a long journey, but I found the answers ye sought.”
Ronan arched an eyebrow at him but jabbed his eating dagger at the food. “Eat first, then talk.”
“Aye,” Aidan said gratefully.
“Gordy delivered yer messages,” Ronan said as they ate. “Ye saved a wee lassie?”
“Kenna,” he said softly, his thoughts focused completely on his little sparrow. “Raven is teaching her tae be one of my birds.”
“I ken Raven has sent a few messages. Gordy told me the lassie be doing well.”
Aidan grinned brightly. “That be good tae hear. I shall study the messages after I get some sleep, if there be nothing urgent.”
“Gordy didna mention anything.”
“I took a bit of doing, but ye may find the answers intriguing,” Aidan said, noting Ronan immediately took Lia’s hand in his.
“And?”
“Ye were right, Lia comes from a noble family.” He paused, his grin growing. He would confound his brother. “But, ye have once again been a fool.”
Ronan scowled. “How so?”
“Ye persecuted her for being a Sassenach. When in truth, she is of Scottish blood.”
Ronan blinked at him, his steel-gray eyes wide with shock. “What?”
Aidan nearly crowed his laughter. “Her da was a Scottish laird, married an Englishwoman. She is only half Sassenach.”
The look on his brother’s face was more than Aidan could bear. He heard Lia giggle and lost all control, roaring his laughter.
Ronan’s face turned ruddy and only fueled Aidan’s laughter. He found himself wiping tears from his eyes.
“Cease,” Ronan growled. Aidan struggled to regain control of himself but failed miserably. As he fought to clear the tears from his vision, he saw Ronan look at Lia and smile. “She will always be my Sassenach healer.”
Aidan saw the look the two exchanged and shook his head, his mirth finally under control. It was amazing, but the two were still absolutely besotted with each other. His laughter faded completely as he once again thought of a lass with emerald eyes.
“Who?” Ronan asked.
“MacTavish.” Aidan drew a deep breath. This part was not so amusing and would probably be difficult for Lia to hear. A foundling at seven years old, Lia could remember little of her past, and those memories were terrifying: a night of fire, death, and destruction. “MacTavish married her mum, and they chose tae live for a time at her dowry in northern Cumbria. The area was struggling, and MacTavish worried over the growing tension between the English and the Scots. He resided there tae strengthen the keep and manage the land properly. But they fell under attack.”
“The English?”
“Nay, ’twas a blood feud with Clan Lamont. MacTavish was attacked by his own countrymen.” He watched Lia closely. The blood drained from her face, and his heart twisted. He didn’t wish to vex the lass.
Ronan also watched her worriedly. He pulled her fingers to his lips and kissed them. Lia’s expression eased.
“Perhaps this should wait,” Aidan said.
“Nay,” Lia said firmly. “I want to know.”
“The blood feud is as ancient as the history of the clans involved. Long ago, a MacTavish ancestor took a great amount of land from them. Clan Lamont attacked yer home, and they did indeed bring a trebuchet against the walls, which is why ye remembered the sound it made. Forgive me, lass, but ye have no surviving family.”
Ronan scowled. “Lamont opposes the Bruce and his ally Clan Campbell, they dinna hold the strength they once had.”
“Aye, they have made some powerful enemies. I found the ruins of Lia’s former home. The keep is now a pile of rubble slowly being reclaimed by the field.”
“The king didna award it tae another?” Ronan asked in shock.
“The villagers who are old enough tae remember tell a story of the heiress who escaped with a healer, but they didna ken if she be alive now. The land is in contest. After the death of the MacTavish, his brother became laird and claimed the land through Scottish law. The crown also sought the land because her mum was English.”
Ronan rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I wonder if Laird MacTavish would still claim the land if he kenned his niece had survived. Cumbria be a goodly distance from the clan’s traditional home.”
“With the war,” Aidan said, “both sides had more important things tae worry over, especially considering it’s a keep with little strategic significance, at least in regard tae Longshanks’s war, and the cost of rebuilding it would be too much for any treasury tae support right now.” Aidan paused, weighing his words carefully. “Ronan, it might cost ye a good bit of coin, but I think yer question is a good one. Would MacTavish allow Lia her inheritance if he kenned she be alive?”
Ronan nodded. “Perhaps he will be cooperative.”
“Ronan,” Lia protested. “It sounds like too great of an expense to worry over.”
Ronan grinned at her. “Nay, lassie, ’tis no trouble. I will send a messenger tae inquire. MacTavish might be quite pleased tae learn his brother’s daughter is alive and well.”
“Aye,” Aidan said, nodding.
“Then we shall see what we shall see.” Ronan paused and studied his brother. “Thank ye, Aidan, for discovering the truth.”
“’Tis my duty, Ronan,” he said with a grin. “And I have been happy tae help.”
Ronan chuckled. “Off with ye now. Get some rest.”
Aidan rose and went to his room, spotting the notes Gordy had left for him on the bed. He stripped off his clothes and tumbled into bed but could not resist reading them. A smile tugged at his lips. According to Raven, his little sparrow was doing quite well. They had recovered and were rebuilding the nest; Raven thought Aidan would be pleased to know he now had even more birds to call on should he have need of them.
“Well done,” he whispered to himself. He would send word to her after he got some sleep. He punched his pillow and settled into bed, his eyes quickly closing as sleep claimed him. Although he was very pleased with Raven’s accomplishments, he discovered a little sparrow inhabiting his dreams.
HHH
Kenna left the tavern exhausted. The hour was late, but the place had been buzzing with activity. Rumor abounded this night that the Bruce had indeed returned to Scotland, but no one seemed to know where he was.
Yet it was on nights like this she questioned her employment there. It was hard work and her feet hurt. Raven had been right, she made good money as one of Aidan’s birds; she didn’t need the pittance that passed for wages at the inn. It was the information she gleaned while she was there. Although her exhaustion always made her question why she did this to herself, she realized that information was what truly made her valuable to Aidan. She had grown tired of being worthless and was happy to be able to help the man who had saved her life.
And what a man he was. She hadn’t seen him in so long and missed him terribly.
She rolled her eyes and groaned to herself. Blessed Mary have mercy, she was acting like a witless maiden. She forced her thoughts from her mind, trudging home. She focused instead on visiting with Mairi. She had been so very glad to see the lass.
The hut was not far, but tonight it seemed as if someone had picked it up and placed it a few more miles from the tavern. She searched the darkness ahead for the soft glow of the candle in the window they always lit for each other when one worked and the other did not. They could not afford the expensive glass for the window, but the shutters covering the opening had more holes than a sieve, allowing the golden light to reach the road.
Kenna spotted a bright glow in the distance. Wait a moment. It was much brighter than a simple candle. Surely it was her weary imagination, but as she stared at the brilliant orange glimmering in the night sky, she fisted her skirts and her stride lengthened until she was in a dead sprint for the hut. She rounded the small bend in the road, and her eyes widened in horror. The hut was ablaze.
“Raven!” she screamed, running for all she was worth. “Mairi!” Her gaze searched the darkness around their home; surely they had escaped the inferno. But the more Kenna cried their names, the greater her terror grew. Where were they?
Please not inside! Blessed saints, not inside!
Neither lass answered her call. Without checking her pace, Kenna charged through the broken door, a part of her mind acknowledging that it barely hung on shattered hinges. She slid to a stop just as a section of the burning roof collapsed in front of her.
“Raven!” She coughed, her eyes searching the dark, smoke-filled hut. She didn’t hear the wail of a bairn. Then Kenna saw a slight form, blood soaked, lying so still on the floor, a kitchen knife beside her also bloodied. “Raven!” She lunged forward, grabbing her friend. Although Kenna was smaller than Raven, terror gave her the strength to pick Raven up and haul her out. Coughing terribly, she collapsed to her knees just outside the hut.
“Raven,” she called, shaking her shoulders. “Oh God, Raven! Where’s Mairi?”
Raven coughed, blood streaming from her mouth, but her eyes opened. “I made Mairi run,” she gasped, her voice so soft Kenna struggled to hear her over the roaring flames. “They found her . . . I fought them so she could run.”
Then Kenna realized that the blood and wounds on Raven were not caused by the flames but by a sword. “Raven, what happened?”
“Find Mairi . . . find Aidan.”
Kenna, terror lunging in her heart, looked around, but could see no one to call on for help. The hut was away from the town and it was late. It was doubtful anyone else would see the glow from the fire. The heat from the burning hut grew unbearable. They were still too close. Kenna knew she had to get Raven to safety. She again found the strength to haul Raven with her. She pulled her arm over her shoulders and moved as quickly as she could away from the hut and toward the ruined keep.
It seemed to take forever, but Kenna finally reached the keep and eased her friend down. Raven cried out in pain, blood streaming from her wounds in alarming amounts. Kenna quickly ripped her skirts, trying to bind the worst of them, trying to slow the bleeding.
“Nay,” Raven said weakly. “Ye must run.”
“Who did this? What happened?”
“Hurstal...”
Kenna stilled. Nay! It could not be. The bastard leader of the brigands had found them? It had been so long Kenna had thought he had stopped caring about two worthless lassies.
“Mairi . . . escape . . .”
Kenna hesitated, staring at Raven in shock. “What about Mairi?”
Raven choked against the blood in her mouth.
Oh God, nay! This couldn’t be happening! “Easy,” Kenna whispered, stroking the hair from her face.
“Find Aidan . . . must stay . . . safe . . . stay alive...”
“I’m not leaving ye.”
“I’m dead, Kenna. Leave me.”
“Nay!”
Raven caught her hand, her dark eyes filled with pain and fear, but she managed a tiny smile. “It was good having a sister.” She shuddered slightly and her eyes fluttered closed.
“Nay, Raven,” Kenna whispered, pulling her into her arms. She sobbed out her heartbreak, sending terrified prayers to the heavens.
“Find Mairi,” Raven whispered so softly Kenna could barely hear her. “Her bairn . . . ” She gasped, fighting to breathe. “Her bairn . . . succession . . . Mairi . . . ”
The breath rattled in her throat, her eyes grew unfocused, and she relaxed against Kenna as her life drained onto the ground in the blood pooling around her. Kenna held Raven close and screamed in anguish as Raven died in her arms.
HHH
She couldn’t stop crying. How much time had passed? Kenna couldn’t be certain; she knew only that it was day, and a light rain fell from the sky. It soaked the inside of the broken keep, a pile of rubble that matched Kenna’s heart. She huddled under some fallen debris where the water didn’t drip so terribly on her head.
Beside her lay Raven’s body, covered with the old canvas they had used to protect their clothes. What should she do? After all she had learned, after all she had accomplished, she never thought to feel so alone and abandoned again.
Find Mairi . . . find Aidan.
How? Where? Raven had said she fought so Mairi could escape. But where should Kenna start looking? Aidan had only said the MacGrigor’s holdings were a ride of a sennight east of here. If only she could stop crying she would be able to think straight. If only her sister wasn’t dead. Kenna never had any siblings. She didn’t know what it was like to have a brother or sister until Raven took her under her wing. If she had known, her own awful life with her father surely would have been much easier to bear.