Chapter 1 #2
Donal’s connection to the Lathans went back most of his life.
He’d fostered with Jamie’s grandfather and stayed as Lathan’s arms master at his request. Donal was there when Jamie’s mother lost her brother in the same way Jamie lost Calder.
She had hated Jamie’s father for a while, but had come to see that he’d saved her life.
Jamie heaved a sigh. Donal had saved his, too. And Donal got his men back into MacKyrie territory where they knew every rock, rill, and hollow, and where his men could pick off the raiders if they dared follow.
Jamie got to his feet, finally steady. The best thing for the sensations filling his body at the moment was another good fight.
He’d go to the training ground and work off his anguish there.
But not until after he got rid of the lump on the back of his head and the pain in his head and belly.
He was about to use his healing talent to take care of himself when someone knocked softly on the door.
“Come,” he called out and reached for calm he didn’t yet feel. Only one person would dare his temper.
Ellie, Donal’s wife, the MacKyrie laird and Seer, opened the door and stood, leaning on the frame, studying him.
Her long dark hair, bound to the side, trailed down to her hip against the wooden doorframe.
Silver streaks glinted that had not been visible when he first came to foster, all those years before.
“Ye ken he’s right.” Her voice was soft and sure.
Jamie always pictured velvet over steel when he heard her speak. This woman could make him more nervous than going up against her husband Donal, but remnants of Jamie’s anger still burned in his blood, making him bold. “Ye would say that.”
“Aye. But he is.” She stepped into the chamber. “Ye’d be dead with yer friend and more of our precious few men.” Her serene expression slipped for a moment as she glanced aside. “Even him.”
The thought of the Seer knowing and grieving the hour of her beloved husband’s death froze the blood in Jamie’s veins. “Ye canna ken that. Ye werena there.” Despite his earlier fury, Jamie knew he would grieve him, too, and hoped that day was long in coming.
“Ye forget who… and what I am.”
Jamie lowered his gaze to her hands, now clenched at her sides, and watched as she forced them open. “Never,” he told her. No more than he could forget who and what he was. Or what his own mother was.
“Then hear me. This is a turning point for ye. Ye will go from here—angry, aye. Grieving. Of course. I ken that. But ye will find another path when ye do. Another way to be of value to those ye care about.”
“What does that mean?”
“Live yer life, Jamie Lathan.” She turned back to the door, then looked over her shoulder and smiled at him for the first time. “Dinna be so certain ye ken who ye are. Ye will find out as it happens.”
He left the next morning, after the last handful of dirt had been dropped onto Calder’s grave.
The Seer had begged him to stay another day to rest his head and his temper, then told him if he was careful, he would not encounter any of the men they’d fought the day before.
Jamie believed her. He’d never known her to be wrong in all the five years he’d fostered with them, nor during the visits since for holidays or battles.
Donal approached and grasped his forearm before Jamie finished checking the contents of the packs on his horse. “I’m sorry to see ye leave us like this,” Donal told him. “But Ellie tells me ’tis for the best, and if ye keep yer temper under control, ye will do well.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Jamie told him, and meant it.
“Tell yer da I’ll pay a visit when I can. And kiss yer ma for me. For us,” he added, pulling the Seer to his side and wrapping a muscled arm over her shoulders.
She smiled up at her husband, then turned the smile to Jamie. “Safe travels, lad. Ye are yet a young man. Ye will learn much in the next few years.”
Jamie nodded and tied closed the last pack while he tried to come up with a response to that. Ellie MacKyrie had not stinted the supplies for his long journey home, but he knew better than to ask for more detail in her foretelling. Still, he appreciated her attempt to send him off with good wishes.
Instead, Jamie mounted and rode away from the keep before the lump in his throat could grow any larger.
Once he got into the trees and out of sight, he wiped his eyes, annoyed that his emotions could betray him this way, first with anger, now with regret.
He took a deep breath. The Seer’s promise was still vague, but perhaps more specific than her usual pronouncement.
Jamie pictured her. Would she have smiled when she delivered it if he didn’t have much to look forward to in the next year?
Days were growing longer, so he rode hard, stopping to make camp and quiet his mind through the short nights, resting himself and his mount against the next day’s long road. Finally, he got a glimpse between some hills of the Aerie on its high tor. Home.
He reined in and just looked, thinking about the people he loved there, and those he’d left behind.
Would the Aerie be home for much longer? The Seer’s words stayed with him. What other path would he find? And how would he be of use? As usual, her words were cryptic, as though she forbore giving anyone too much information about their future. Would their path change if she did?
Her talent, like his mother’s and his, could not be explained. Only used, something Jamie did as seldom as possible. He was a warrior, not a healer, except when a life was at risk on the battlefield.
Like Calder’s.
The image remained as clear in his mind as if he still leaned over his friend, fighting to save him.
He’d never forget it. Never lose that sensation of life slipping away faster than he could stop it bleeding out of Calder’s body.
He’d saved Lathan lives on many battlefields, and when he could safely do so, those of their allies.
But he hadn’t been able to save Calder's.
He vowed never to use his talent again. He was and would be a warrior—one of the best. Nothing more.
Though his fury had abated, he had not forgiven Donal that blow to the back of his head. The Seer’s words made him wonder if the next time Donal called for men to fight MacKyrie’s battles, would Jamie be among them?
Was that what the Seer meant?
He kicked his mount into motion and headed for home. Perhaps he would find answers there.