Chapter 18
Wrong. What was wrong with Nella?
Callum tightened his grasp on her as she squirmed on the saddle before him again. “Nella?”
“All is well,” she whispered for his ears alone. “I am simply a wee bit sore. You are a grand size, my knight.” Hell, he had devoured all of her with a ravenous appetite like a Scotsman starved for centuries.
“Forgive my greediness, my lady,” he murmured in her ear.
“There is nothing to forgive, my knight.” She placed her hand over his on her waist to quip, “I believe ’twas two in that bedchamber and not only one?”
He would have chuckled at her jest if not for the matter about to unfold in a mere moment. They would be nearing the ridge of hills surrounding Dundee. Already the scent by roast and fish and wool regarding the largest day of market trade fumed the forested air.
Nella hadn’t told Brayden about her instinct in senses.
Don’t press her. The fact she had considered the reveal it…
it what? Stunned him. After all the false cruelties thrown at her by her misguided sire.
Aonghus had told him once Keirah had lost her sire at a young age, but he had cherished the thought she would possibly carry on her line’s element belonging to being a fate-seer.
A complete reversal on what had happened here with Nella.
She’d also struck him as nervous the whole ride, looking frequently at the gray clouds overhead on the dreich day offering mist off and on.
“Callum?”
“Aye?”
“We are near I take it? The sounds of wee ones running along with the clamor by those bartering fill my ears.” All he heard was the wind along with the pounding from Luss’s hooves on the terrain.
“Aye, my lady, over the next hill shall be Dundee and the port.”
“Then ’tis past time I tell Sir Brayden.” Her spine straightened against him. “Take us alongside our friend.”
After a few strides at a gallop, Brayden appeared closer, or what one could see. The chamberlain had done a fine job. All three cloaks covered over everything with the large hoods, making their faces look like night had come early by the shadows it cast.
“Sir Brayden.” Nella summoned the knight.
***
What if the kind knight with jovial temperament thought her odd or frightening or cursed?
Being a fate-seer was a grand instinct. However, her own sense regarding hearing voices, well.
A daughter of mine is a spawn from the dammed!
Her late sire’s cruel words echoed her mind.
Aye, she was a step from brazen brimstone.
She looked at Callum. He loved her. Having him in her corner gave her the strength to tell Brayden.
Her eyes darted heavenward. Then there were the gray skies overhead.
What if a strike sounded? The lone holdback she had been unable to share with Callum, her only weakness, if lightning struck…
She gave another inward shiver as her palms turned damp, and not from the mist.
It was gray. The sky was quiet. Only wee bit of rain. It was Scotland – get over it.
All would be well. She needed her instinct in sense for the chances lying ahead.
Hiss may be searching for them, or even if not, they could be spotted.
Who knew how many men-at-arms he would have at his disposal in a large port like this one on the single biggest fair day of the year.
Would she rather chance herself than Callum? A thousand times over!
Brayden slowed his charger. “Aye, my lady?”
Here goes. Try not to frighten the knight with being strange.
“There is a matter I have been less than forthright with you upon. I harbor a rather unique talent.” Talent.
Good choice in word rather than odd. “Um, I have a grand sense in hearing.” Grand.
Excellent word choice; not strange or freaky.
“My line MacHearin, well” – she swallowed hard – “we hear a pin drop at twenty paces.”
Brayden’s eyes widened but he didn’t gallop away or start shouting “daughter of Satan!” This was a promising start.
He looked from her at Callum then back at her.
The inward shiver turned into a shaking.
What if he bolted, leaving Callum to fight alone?
It would all be her fault. Why had she thought it possible to tell him?
You ever tell a soul outside this clan they will think you soulless, you foolish lass!
Her sire’s parting words slapped her mind.
Brayden… grinned. Wait, how was it possible he grinned?
“Oh, my lady.” The trees filled with his rich chuckle. “Wonderous! A most wonderous find!”
“You are not frightened?” Nella asked pensively.
“Frightened?” Brayden rode closer then slapped Callum on the shoulder. “Never! Well done, my friend, two ladies bespoke with extraordinary instinct in senses tethered to.” Brayden whispered the final portion. “Clan MacCade.” He winked at her. The inward shaking stopped.
“Do tell, is this how you beheld the eve at the feast and Lord Kolson’s true intent?”
“Aye.”
“As extraordinary as all this is, there is one matter I have wished to learn more about, but I believe shall have to keep till later.”
Anything. “What is that?”
“How did you and Callum meet?” Oh, he is so sweet! “My wife, Lady Maise, is certain to wonder this as well.”
“’Tis a most charming tale.”
“For certain, one I will cherish to hear once we are far from here. You promise to share it then, my lady?” He smiled.
“I promise, my friend.” She had a friend who knew what she was. Her chin raised as Callum tugged a bit on her palm. As she met Callum’s eyes, a warmth in their depths reflected at her. Aye, it felt good, Callum.
“The price was less than half upon our last meet for the same wool!”
Nella’s smile faded.
“Nella, what do you harken to?”
“A pair of Scotsmen are haggling over the price of wool,” she explained.
In her periphery, Brayden’s neck snapped toward the unseen port then back to her. He gave a low whistle. “Matchless, my lady,” he said, awestruck.
At the turn in events all faces became somber.
“Callum,” Brayden recanted, “I believe the route you spoke of through the marketplace is best with me placing a wee bit of distance as planned. So we do not attract attention at the three of us being tethered together in plain sight of this Hiss stranger nor his men-at-arms who may spot us.”
Nella’s eyes widened when they reached the hill’s crest. Massive.
The port was massive! The ships dotted like trees in the harbor with tents born of the fair filled the terrain so fiercely one could scarcely see earth.
Horses and sheep and cattle and Scots floated about same as a dandelion’s seeds on the breeze.
Even with the gray day, commerce shined brightly.
“There is the Spaniard’s ship,” Callum declared, pointing at the impressive vessel nearest the dock.
“How are you so certain?” she wondered.
“The ship is one built by House of Kolbeck, direct from Laenden Isle.”
Brayden tightened the hold on his reigns as the first wagons and tents fell into view after they cleared the forest past at the hill’s base.
“We leave the chargers there,” Callum advised, nodding toward a stable near the inn on the outskirts.
“Aye,” Brayden agreed, “we blend in more on foot.”
The few beginning stalls they passed demonstrated how flashy Luss was for merchants as they began hollering at them.
“Best honey in any burgh!”
“Finest fabrics from the silk road!”
Trotting past the tents, they halted in the stable yard. Callum dismounted then reached for her. As she set her hands on his shoulders, he lowered her before him.
Callum asked Brayden who approached. “If any chaos unfolds the meeting spot is…?”
“Barn near Edna’s cottage.”
“Edna?” Nella inquired.
“A charming elder, part healer, she harbors a sweet demeanor toward our Callum here.”
“Also keep watch for the Northman,” Callum reminded dryly.
Brayden’s grin returned. “Always, I will watch him right to the end of my sword if he tampers with our purpose.”
“Nella?” Her Callum was seeking a clear path for them to the docks as the stable lad bounded out from inside smelling the coin of rich patrons.
She glanced up at the sky. No lightning – yet.