Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
Gabe looked better once Isabelle entered the hall, and Brenna brushed a few tears away as the couple exchanged the familiar words binding them together for the rest of their lives. Brenna could only hope they would find the same happiness she and Ronan had.
Despite all the heartbreak that had come before, they were exactly where they belonged.
Brenna felt a chill of unease as everyone settled for the meal. Ewan was still out there, and until he was found, their happiness was at risk.
***
Ronan knew he was sleeping. He was even somewhat aware he was dreaming, and the soldiers he was striking down were not real, for surely, after this many, his arms would have grown heavy with fatigue.
His men lay among the dying, and he turned away, ready to fight the next threat.
He continued to raise his sword against French soldiers and raiding clans alike. Every enemy he’d ever faced came at him one after another until he was standing in a field of dead bodies across from Ewan.
It had been weeks since he’d seen the man. The bastard walked freely amongst his dreams. He looked down at his blade to see the gleaming steel had been replaced with a small wooden practice sword from his youth. One like those he and Ewan had sparred with as children.
“Do you plan to kill me, nephew?” Ewan asked.
Ronan opened his mouth to speak. To say yes because he had harmed Brenna, but no words came out. Instead, bubbles of air escaped.
He was in the lake.
He felt the joy of running into the cool water and splashing his uncle.
The relief from the day’s heat as the water penetrated his shirt caused the fabric to cling to his thin body—the chill of the mud oozing between his toes.
Sheer happiness for a moment before everything changed, and he descended into darkness.
He fought to stand up but wasn’t strong enough to escape his binds.
The weight on his shoulders restraining him kept him from reaching the surface.
He couldn’t break free because the shadow was more powerful than him.
He kicked at the weight and felt the pinch as the weight moved its grasp from his shoulders to clench his hair.
“Let me go!” Ronan screamed silently, for no breath was left in his lungs, and one couldn’t scream underwater.
He continued to fight until his vision sparkled and faded. His limbs grew heavy, and he couldn’t do anything but let go. Give up and float upward with the bubbles.
He lurched up in his bed, surprised he hadn’t awoken Brenna. By now, she had grown used to his restlessness. He guessed it was just after dawn from the slant of the weak sunlight coming through the windows.
He waited until his breathing slowed as his mind struggled to decipher the dream’s details and determine if it was a memory or a nightmare.
It felt so real. Unsure, he left the bed and quietly found the clothes he’d tossed off hours ago.
He found his boots and carried them downstairs.
He’d barely tugged them into place before ordering the gate opened, and he was on the trail heading away from the castle, not even taking the time to saddle his horse and ride out.
He needed to see the place from his dream before the memories drifted away beyond his grasp.
He chose the path that took him directly to the lake.
His limp was more pronounced this morning, having not allowed his muscles to limber up.
Despite the ache, he picked up his pace, suddenly in a hurry to find the truth, as if whatever he was looking for would still be there all these years later.
When he arrived at the lake, he was almost surprised to find it looked as serene as it had that day when he and Brenna had come upon it.
The early morning sun glistened on water that would refresh later in the day.
It would offer a brisk awakening if only he were brave enough to step in.
Ronan found himself shucking the boots he’d just pulled on moments ago.
He tossed off his belts, shirt, and kilt and stepped into the cool lake, pushing himself past his fear of the water.
He didn’t run like he had in his memory.
Instead, he took careful steps as he submerged in the dark water until he was near the center.
From here, the water only came to his chest, slightly above his nipples.
Gauging the depth, he realized he would have easily cleared the surface even at twelve.
He’d been tall for his age and had only grown a few more inches to his current height.
He’d only been two inches shorter than Ewan.
At the thought of his uncle, he recalled the look he’d given him that day when Ronan had launched himself into the pond, splashing him, laughing, and making a right nuisance of himself.
Ewan had been angry and grabbed him. And then, just as he’d known all this time, his uncle—the man he’d loved as a brother—held him under the water until he’d stopped fighting. Until he’d stopped moving.
Until he’d stopped breathing.
Ewan had saved his life that day, but only after he’d nearly killed him first.
As if he’d conjured the man, Ronan looked up to see Ewan standing on the bank near the pile of Ronan’s clothing and his weapons.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Ewan taunted.
“What I’ve seen is the truth. By having the courage to step into the lake, the water has washed the lies from my eyes.”
Ewan tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“I remember what happened in this lake all those years ago.”
“I pulled you from the water and saved your life. Everyone knows the story,” Ewan said.
“Everyone knows the story you told them, but they don’t know the truth, that my life wouldn’t have been in peril had you not held me down. Had you not caused me to drown in the first place, I would have not needed rescuing.”
“Your memory does you a disservice, nephew.”
“You were willing to take my life back then, and again when you attempted to poison me, and when you shot my wife in error. Perhaps you’d like to come in and try to drown me now.”
Ronan had height and muscle on his side this time.
No longer a lanky lad, Ewan would be quickly bested.
Which the man knew as well. His answer was a low chuckle.
“No. It will not do. For if it is known that I killed you, I would be imprisoned or worse for such a crime against the laird. But if your wife were to do it…”
Ronan was the one to laugh this time. “Not one person in the keep would believe my wife killed me even if she was found standing over my lifeless body with a knife. You will never rule this clan.”
Ewan’s face betrayed his anger before the smug smile returned. “We shall see. I’m a patient man, nephew.” Ewan slipped away into the trees, much as he had in Ronan’s dream.