The Bewitching Twin (19 page)

A
liss had just administered a salve and bandage to Tara’s minor burn when Rogan appeared at the open door of the cottage.

“I interrupt?”

Aliss shook her head and waved him in. “All finished.”

He wore his dark plaid and tan shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The summer sun had lightened the blond strands that ran through his long hair and tanned his skin to a healthy bronze. It delighted her to see that she had such a handsome husband.

Tara stood to leave, drawing her attention. “Daniel does well?”

Her smile spread generously across her pretty face. “He runs around without a limp or complaint. He tires me out just watching him.”

“Good, I am glad that his broken bone healed so well.”

Tara hugged her. “Thanks to you and your skills. I do not know what we would do without you. The clan is so very grateful to you.” She hurried out the door with a wave.

“The chieftain is also grateful for your skills.”

Aliss laughed and walked around the table to step into his open arms.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

“You just saw me at breakfast a couple of hours ago.”

“Much too long, don’t you agree?”

She did, actually, having thought of him all morning. Soon they would need to talk and settle things between them, but not just yet. For now, she needed time to heal her wounds and love him.

“Aye, I do agree, perhaps we can find time today and slip away together.”

“I already have it planned,” he whispered.

A gruff cough at the door had them both turning around.

“Sorry to interrupt,” John said apologetically. “You are needed at the keep. A foolish dispute.”

Aliss sighed and whispered, “When and where?”

He bent and nibbled at her ear. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Gooseflesh ran over her skin and she shivered as she watched him walk off.

“A brisk walk,” she ordered, needing to stem her passion. She left the cottage and headed for the woods. She wanted to be alone, solitude her only companion for now. She wanted to find a place to sit, relax, and enjoy the beauty of the last days of summer. Soon she would journey with Rogan to await the birth of Fiona’s babe. She looked forward to seeing her sister. She missed her and wished to talk with her.

It had been too long since they had shared walks together, talking and laughing and offering each other advice. Aliss’s advice had always been the more logical of the two.

She heard a rustle and looked around, hoping to spy friendly animals at play. She loved to watch their antics. They always made her laugh.

She saw nothing and assumed they were scurrying about out of sight.

She continued walking. A cloud slowly sneaked across the sky and covered the late afternoon sun, robbing the woods of sunlight. A chill breeze rustled the trees, shedding leaves and sending a shiver through Aliss.

She had not thought to bring a shawl. The last days of summer lingered, with only the occasional hint of autumn in the air.

With a rough rubbing of her arms, Aliss kept up her unhurried pace.

A noise that sounded like rushing footsteps had her swerving around.

She stared at the dense woods and heard nothing but her rapid heartbeat. Was she being followed? Was someone playing a trick on her?

“Rogan?” she called out, her own voice returning in an echo.

She suddenly felt uneasy. It seemed as if the forest had grown darker, though the cloud covering had not grown heavier. The urge to flee took hold of her and she tried to calm herself.

It did not work and finally she decided her best course of action was to satisfy her irrationality and return home.

Aliss turned, and staring at her through a grove of trees was a pair of brilliant green eyes.

Rogan listened to the two squabbling women from his perch atop the long table that sat in front of the cold fireplace in the great hall. The two were bickering over the ownership of a fine piece of a recently woven plaid.

He knew it was an important matter for both women, but he would have much preferred to be with Aliss. Last night he had realized that he loved his wife even more than he thought possible and he knew she loved him. He hoped soon, very soon, he would hear her say “I love you” to him as easily as he said it to her.

For now his attention was needed here in the hall, but as soon as he finished he intended to return to Aliss and whisk her away to a very special place, and share a part of his past with her.

Both women claimed their skilled hands had weaved the cloth, and they expected him to settle the dispute. But it was impossible to settle. He would have to designate one of them as the better weaver and thereby animosity would grow between friends.

“Let me see the cloth,” Rogan said.

John handed it to him while the two women looked on and several other women watched from the surrounding tables. No men took interest in the debate, though Raynor had wandered in and sat to the side watching with interest.

Rogan weighed the cloth in his hand and saw that it was a fine weave made by skilled hands. He also knew that one of the women would suffer because of his verdict. He gave it thought, studying the cloth, bringing it up to examine it closely.

“You both claim to have weaved this, you say?”

Both women nodded and affirmed, “Yes!”

“There is a knot here in the weave.”

Both women stepped forward and stopped when Rogan turned the cloth over and back again.

“A loose weave in spots,” he said, once again bringing it up for a closer look.

One woman took a step back.

The other noticed and joined her.

“This looks to be the work of a beginner,” he said.

Both women gasped at the insult.

“You both teach the young ones to weave, do you not?”

“Yes, yes, we do,” said one.

“Could you have made a mistake and this cloth may be the work of one of the young women you have taught?” he asked.

“I think he is right, Agnes,” one said.

“I believe you are right, Cara,” the other agreed.

“The cloth?” he asked, holding it out to them.

“Keep it,” both said, and turned and walked off together.

The other women followed, smiling broadly. There would be no hard feelings this day.

Raynor walked over to him, shaking his head. “You handled that well.”

“What choice did I have?” Rogan asked with a laugh. “The other women would have had my head if I had caused a rift between the two women who weaved the cloth for the clan.”

Raynor grinned and slapped him on the back. “Your meals may have also suffered. I spied one of the women who cook for you lurking in the shadows.”

Rogan gave a quick glance around the hall.

“Don’t worry, she left with a smile.”

“I tell you, settling disputes between women is worse than going into battle without a weapon,” Rogan said.

“Amen to that.”

“Did something bring you to the hall?” Rogan asked. “Since I do not think a woman’s quarrel would bring you here.”

“I wondered if Giann was visiting you. She visits with my family on occasion and I thought I saw her wandering the woods,” Raynor said.

“She has made her presence known.”

“Does she intend to speak with Aliss?”

“She has not made mention of it,” Rogan said. “Why?”

“I saw Aliss walk into the woods and wondered.”

“Wondered what?”

“If Giann had summoned her?”

Aliss stood perfectly still, not sure who the glaring green eyes belonged to, animal or human. Her urge to flee dissipated and her heartbeat calmed. She instinctively realized she had nothing to fear, though much to say.

“I am glad we finally meet.”

Aliss stared as sunlight spotlighted the woman who emerged from the woods, the cloud having drifted away from the sun. She was stunning, with blond hair and green eyes that claimed the color of the forest. Her garments blended with nature’s own colors so that her tall, graceful body could move within the woods undetected. She carried a gnarled walking stick that was topped with a claw that held a clear stone.

“You are Giann,” Aliss said.

“And you are Aliss, one of the twins.”

She drifted closer to Aliss, and that is exactly how it appeared—as if she drifted, not walked, toward her.

“Whose life you have interfered with much too long.”

“Not I, fate,” Giann said gently, and led her to a thick, flat stone.

Aliss had been anticipating their meeting and she eagerly sat beside the woman. “Are you telling me fate was responsible for my sister’s and my abduction? You had nothing at all to do with it?”

“You both were meant to fulfill a destiny. I was meant to help and guide you along the way.”

“You talk of the prophecy.”

Giann nodded.

“My sister and I suffered because doom was predicted for the clan and in order to avoid it our uncle thought to sacrifice us. Not to mention the untold suffering of my parents and brother, wondering all those years what had happened to us. And you tell me all that was due to fate?”

“Fate must be appeased.”

“At any expense?”

“What expense have you suffered?” Giann asked gently. “Your sister has wed a man she loves. Raynor, your brother, thrives on reuniting with you both. Your parents will greet a new granddaughter soon and watch her grow into a fine young woman—and you?”

Giann looked her over with a loving glance. “You will help fulfill the final part of the prophecy so that peace may finally be achieved.”

“How so?”

“You will discover that in time. Fate has yet to be completely appeased with the current situation.”

“Why isn’t fate appeased?”

“What was once done wrong must be made right.”

“I do not understand.”

“You will when the time comes,” Giann said.

“Fiona and I both wed as the prophecy predicted we must. Does that not settle it?”

“The prophecy was not only about you both marrying.”

“How can you say that?” Aliss asked, perplexed. She then recited, “On a full moon twin babes are born, with their birth sounds the horn, eyes of green, hair of red, destruction comes unless both wed.”

“That is not the prophecy.”

“It isn’t?” Aliss asked incredulously.

Giann smiled, raised her hands to the heavens as if drawing down the light to her, and recited, “On a full moon twin babes are born, with their birth sounds the horn, eyes of green, hair of red, destruction comes if for love the twins do not wed, for true love will open the door for peace to reign forever more.”

“The prophecy was always about love?”

“For many, not merely the few.”

“You talk in riddles,” Aliss accused.

Giann smiled like a patient teacher. “Open your heart and you will understand.”

“So we’re back to love again.”

“Love is what connects us all. Understand that and fate will be appeased.”

“Another prediction?” Aliss asked.

Giann reached out and touched her cheek. “No, my child, a gift.”

R
ogan reached the edge of the woods and stopped abruptly. He knew the time would come for Aliss to meet Giann face-to-face. It was what Aliss wanted, and a meeting that was necessary. He had no right to interfere.

He stepped back, grabbed a large stick off the ground and snapped it in two as he paced impatiently. He would give Aliss time. How much, he wasn’t certain, but for now he would wait.

He snapped the now smaller stick again and continued to pace.

A pile of broken sticks covered the ground before he saw Aliss in the distance making her way around the trees. He snapped the last stick he held and tossed it away then stepped forward, eager to greet her.

She stopped in front of him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, not certain why her green eyes glared so brightly.

“I met with Giann.”

“Did the meeting go well?”

“Do you think it is possible for me to be more confused now than I was before?”

He shrugged, realizing it would be better for him to listen.

“Love. It all comes down to love. For the many not just the few.” She began to pace in front of him. “Love is a gift, she says, but who gives the gift?” She stopped pacing and poked him in the chest. “And what if I don’t want the gift? Can I give it back? And is the gift even for me?” She threw up her hands and continued pacing.

“It makes no sense,” he said. He had hoped this meeting would settle unanswered questions for Aliss. It definitely had confused her even more. He had caused her enough concern. He didn’t wish any more problems heaped on her.

“That is not all that doesn’t make sense. She tells me that love connects us all. Who is us?” She shook her head. “It is all too much for me. I never wanted to deal with love in the first place. See where it has gotten me.” She halted abruptly and pointed a finger at him. “Probably because I knew it would be nothing but trouble. Now here I am smack in the middle of a riddle.”

Her hands went up in the air again. “I even rhyme as Giann does.”

That he found humorous and attempted to hide his laughter.

“It is not funny,” she said, shaking a finger at him. “This prediction of hers—” She waved her hand at the woods. “It has brought much heartache to many and I do not wish to see it cause any more.”

“As difficult as it may be to believe, Giann is wise in ways we know nothing of. Perhaps we should trust her.”

“I do not want my life in the hands of another.”

He stepped closer to her and took her hands in his. “Your life is in my hands and mine is in yours. I would never let any harm come to you. I would die first.”

“Hush,” she said, her hand rushing to cover his mouth. “Do not speak nonsense. I would not see you die for me.”

“The choice is not yours.”

Her eyes rounded wide. “Promise me you would never do something so foolish.”

“I cannot,” he said honestly, for if a time came when it was necessary to forfeit his life for hers, he would do it gladly.

She slapped his chest repeatedly. “You will not lay down your life for me.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed her reddened palm. “I would.”

She rested her forehead to his chest. “I would not want to lose you.”

He grabbed her chin. “I
will not
lose you. Have faith and trust that I will always keep us safe.”

She raised her head. “But I am the one who is to fulfill the last of the prophecy and appease fate.”

He grabbed hold of her arms. “You are my fate. The prophecy is fulfilled.”

“Then what wrong is to be made right?”

“Worry not, it is done.” He realized then that the prophecy involved much more than just the twins. Fate had cast a wide web over the many not just the few.

“I don’t understand—”

“You don’t need to. Leave it to me. Now come with me. It is time for us to escape.” He felt the need to run away, leave all behind and go, just Aliss and him, and that was what he intended if only for an hour or two.

He did not give her a chance to object. He grabbed hold of her hand and tugged her along with him. They would not run far, just far enough to be alone. He intended to take her to his favorite spot, a place he had found when he was a young lad and his father brought him to the isle.

“Where do you take me?’ she asked, rushing to match his hurried pace.

“You will see.”

He stopped suddenly. Aliss would have collided with him if he had not grabbed hold of her and swung her around in front of him.

“My secret place,” he whispered in her ear.

He gazed along with her at the towering weeping willow tree whose flourishing branches brushed the ground. Its many roots drank from the nearby stream and its thick trunk told of its advanced age, though its leaves shone a healthy green.

“Let me show you,” he said, and walked over to part the weeping branches for her to enter.

She stepped forward, peeked in, and entered.

He stepped in behind her, releasing the branches.

“It is like a hideaway,” Aliss said.

“The very reason I liked it when I was young.” He pointed at the walls of willow branches. “No one can see in. It shelters its occupants. It sheltered me as a child. I wanted to share it with you.”

She turned in circles with a smile. “What did it shelter you from?”

She would ask that of him, the healer who always wanted to heal. She would realize that a child who sought shelter from the world hid from something. But perhaps that was why he had brought her here, to share the pain of the past with her, to help her better understand him.

“From my anger,” he said.

“This land belonged to your mother’s clan?”

He nodded.

“She wanted you to have it?”

“My legacy, she told my father. Her firstborn son was entitled to the isle, and she wanted to make certain her firstborn received what rightfully belonged to him.”

She walked over to him and placed her hand on his arm. “I understand. Your mother wanted this for you.”

“Her legacy to me. How could I deny it?”

“Why didn’t you bring me here sooner?”

He stepped away from her. “I couldn’t. Not right away. Not until—”

“You believed I loved you.”

He nodded and walked over to her, taking her hands in his, bringing them to his lips and kissing them gently. “This place was where I felt closest to my mother. To me it is a place of love and I wanted to share it with the woman who loves me.”

He kissed her then, a soft whispery kiss, and they drifted closer together, his arms circling her waist, her arms going around him, closing tight, protecting, sheltering, just like the willow branches that surrounded them.

“Much could have been avoided if you had been honest with me from the start,” Aliss said.

He stepped away from her and spread his arms. “An angry young boy planned his revenge here. It smoldered in his heart for years and nothing was going to stop him. Love threw him a curve and he didn’t know what to do. He was foolish and made a mistake, which he now regrets and probably will for the rest of his life.” He held his hand out to her. “But he doesn’t regret falling in love with the most beautiful, understanding woman in the world.”

Aliss smiled and took his hand. “There you go, wooing again.”

“I’m glad it works.” He tugged her into his arms. “Forgive me for being a fool and not telling you the truth from the start.”

“You have told me everything now?”

He rested his cheek to hers. He had abandoned the last of his plan. There was no need for anyone to know of it. It would do no good and serve no purpose. It would bring only pain and he had lived with the pain far too long. He wanted his past buried now, and his future to begin with Aliss.

“Everything,” he whispered in her ear.

They lingered, sharing stories of their youth, until they both grew hungry and hurried back to the village.

There was excitement in the air; everyone was running in the same direction.

Rogan spied Derek, Tara beside him and Daniel straddling his shoulders. He and Aliss caught up with the couple.

“What goes on here?” Rogan asked.

Derek laughed. “A fight over a woman.”

Rogan shook his head. The worst kind, since pride would allow neither man to surrender until one was left near lifeless.

“You must stop this,” Aliss insisted.

“It is between the men,” Derek said.

“What of the woman?” Aliss asked. “Does she have a say in it?”

“No,” Derek said. “When a man wants to fight, he’ll fight.”

Aliss looked to her husband. “Stop this senselessness or I will.” She marched off ahead of them.

Derek grinned. “I think I’d rather break up the fight than face my wife if I didn’t.”

“A wise choice,” Tara agreed.

“Thanks for the advice,” Rogan said, and marched forward. He would settle this to please his wife, and besides, he didn’t want her spending the rest of the day tending to avoidable wounds.

“Stop!” Rogan commanded, once on the scene. His voice reverberated across the field where the men fought, both bloody and bruised from a battle that looked to have gone on far too long.

The men were far too engrossed in beating the hell out of each other to hear their chieftain’s shout. The clan members surrounding them heard and parted when Rogan marched toward the circle.

Rogan shouted twice more to no avail. He’d had enough. He ran forward with a fierce growl, grabbed one man by the back of the shirt and tossed him aside to tumble in the dirt. He then reached for the other fool and gave him a good toss, sending him sprawling to the ground. He stood with hands on hips, his feet spread apart and his handsome face contorted by fury.

“This fight is over.”

Peter, tall and lanky, spat blood from his bleeding mouth before standing. “He stole my woman.”

“She’s my woman,” Robert said, his one eye nearly shut closed by bruising as he rose on shaky legs.

“She is not,” Peter shouted, and lunged for Robert.

Rogan’s hand shot out and caught the young man in the chest. He stumbled but remained on his feet. “I’ll not see another fist thrown or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“I have a right to fight for the woman I love,” Peter asserted, blood covering his chin.

“She doesn’t love you,” Robert spat, shaking a raised fist.

Rogan shot a warning glance at Robert and the man quickly lowered his clenched hand.

“A fight will settle it,” Peter claimed bravely.

The crowd agreed with a cheer.

While Rogan didn’t agree with their method of settling this dispute, he could not fault it either. Any man worth his honor would fight for the woman he loved, and most in the village would agree, except his wife. And he was much more concerned about pleasing her right now.

“What of the woman? Does she want either man?”

The shout came from the back of the crowd.

Rogan recognized his wife’s voice, distinct and determined, and nearly grinned. Had he really expected her to stay out of this?

The crowd made way for her and she came to stand just at the edge of the circle.

“Shouldn’t the woman be heard?” Aliss asked, both hands set firmly on her hips.

The women cheered in unison.

The men attempted to drown them out with their own protests.

Rogan raised his hand and shouted, “Enough!” While he admired his wife’s audacity, he needed to keep order in his clan.

“We fight and settle this,” Peter said once it turned quiet.

“Aye, it’s the way of things,” Robert agreed.

Before Rogan could address the issue, Aliss turned to the crowd.

“Who claims to love one of these men?”

Both men craned their necks to eye the crowd.

Silence followed, everyone looking at everyone else.

“Sheila, speak up,” Peter cried out.

“Yes, Sheila, set this to rest once and for all,” Robert urged, his one eye wide and searching.

A young woman finally emerged reluctantly from the crowd, her head bent and her hands clasped together. Whispers and murmurs trailed her every step.

Rogan wasn’t surprised to see his wife walk over and offer her hand to the young woman, or that she took hold of Aliss with a nervous tremble.

Both men began to speak but Rogan quickly silenced them with a raised hand.

“What say you, Sheila?” Rogan asked. “Do you favor either man?”

Both men puffed their chests out and stood tall, though both looked a fright covered in dirt, blood, and bruises.

He noticed her hand tighten around Aliss’s, her slim knuckles turning white. His wife placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“You have nothing to fear,” he heard Aliss whisper to her.

Sheila raised her head and kept her eyes on Rogan.

He thought that a telling sign since if she loved one of them, her gaze would immediately go to him. He waited, as did the silent crowd.

“I favor neither man, my lord.”

A mingle of gasps and cheers circled the crowd.

Rogan recognized the young woman by the way she had addressed him. None in the clan called him “my lord.” He wasn’t one nor did he fancy himself one, he was Rogan to them all. But she had only joined their clan a short time before Aliss’s arrival, and she had kept much to herself like many did when they first arrived.

The women had befriended her and informed him that she had been badly abused by the lord she had served and was fearful of men.

“I bring you game for your table,” Peter said.

“I bring you flowers,” Robert said more gently.

Rogan caught the promise of a smile when Robert spoke. She liked the young lad but feared him at the same time.

“Do you wish them to stop?” Rogan asked.

Aliss whispered something in her ear.

“I like the flowers,” Sheila said.

Robert grinned.

The crowd cheered.

Peter grew red with fury and lunged for Robert.

Rogan stepped in quickly and Peter’s fist connected with his jaw.