Chapter Twenty-Five #2
The other man asked, “Have you ever seen clouds like that before? They’re going in opposite directions, something I’ve not witnessed.”
Alex got his horse under the stone protection and dismounted, patting Midnight down to console him.
Although he was stalwart and footsure in battle, the beast had always reacted badly to thunderstorms, the quaking of the ground too much for him.
He whispered sweet words to the animal and pulled out an apple from his saddlebag.
The horse took it quickly and munched away, the treat calming him for a wee bit.
Alex set his hands on his hips, staring up at the thunderstorm raging around them. “I have seen one storm like this, and it was not from anything good. It meant evil was trying to steal a sapphire sword belonging to the fae.”
“When did it happen?” the other man asked.
“Avelina Ramsay had control of the sword. She fought with a daft man over it. Her brother told me the storm started because she held the sword overhead. She was driving a man with ill intent away from her. I’ve never seen another sight like it.
Howbeit…” He couldn’t help but think of his granddaughter, Dyna.
Blessed with the talents of a seer and the odd ability to pull power into her cousins’ swords by holding her bow over her head, he began to see a similarity between her talents and those of Avelina Ramsay.
Was there more to the spectral swords than he realized?
And what part was Dyna playing in this unnatural storm?
He wondered where she was and who was with her.
Then another thought thrust itself into his mind.
The sapphire sword. His sister Brenna had said something about a challenge arising every fifty years.
Their mother had told Brenna and Jennie about it, about how a fae queen would choose a mortal being when necessary to help save the Scots, but only when all else had failed.
He pushed his memory back to it, trying to remember all he’d learned, how Brenna had told him that Gregor had been near death, but that Avelina had held him and breathed life back into him.
The fae had given her special powers along with the sword.
Avelina had fought against evil and won, and the fae queen had told her to hide the sword, that she would return when it was needed again.
That was it. The fae queen had said there would be peace for a time, but eventually they would need to fight evil in Scotland again.
Was the time nigh?
“I wonder. Has it been fifty years?” He said it loud enough to be heard, though he hadn’t meant to because anyone who heard him was bound to think him daft.
Then he shook his head, chastising himself for seeing things that weren’t there. Besides, it couldn’t have been more than forty years.
“What is it?” his companion asked.
“Naught,” Alex replied. “Musings of an old man, one who wishes to believe his wife comes to him in his dreams and his grandchildren have special talents.”
“Like an orphan dreams of being adopted someday?”
Alex glanced at him and grinned. “Something like that.”
The two men watched the wild gusting of the wind, the sheeting rain drenching the landscape, the thunder coming so quickly it was impossible to anticipate the claps.
Alex whispered to himself, “Never seen another like it until now.”
The other man stared at him.
“And I don’t like it.”
Chapter Twenty
Alex plans to give himself to King Edward in return for the promise to leave
his family alone. Loki, his confidante, is helping him, but will the English leave
his clan alone if he does what they want?
Alexander Grant was tired. Tired of searching over half the Highlands for the person he sought. It wouldn’t be long before someone from his clan found him and he’d be forced to go back to Grant land.
But he couldn’t.
He was done watching his clan be tortured by the English.
The last plan he’d made had failed—the Scottish sheriffs hadn’t been stationed near King Robert like he’d thought. His confidant had done as promised, but he couldn’t keep asking for help.
It was time to complete this mission.
He awakened early that morn and stood on his favorite vantage point, looking down at the snow-topped Highland mountains he so loved. He only knew one person who liked this view more than he did.
His companion joined him. “’Tis a view I’ve always loved, but you know that. We’ve seen much happen in the Highlands over the years, and I still treasure every single trip I’ve made across this point.”
Alex clasped the man’s shoulder. “Aye, we’ve seen much. I’d hoped to see Scotland back in control of the Scots before I leave this land. I hope King Robert will be successful. This move I’m about to make should seal that for all of our countrymen.”
The other man pointed. “Look below. The ones you’re searching for are there, I believe.”
Alex squinted, cursing his loss of vision. “I cannot see that far any longer. I must depend on your eyes.”
“Trust me that the man you are looking for is ahead of us. ’Tis time for us to move.”
Alexander Grant smiled and squared his shoulders. “Lead on. We’ll end this.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Who the hell is Hamish???
Alex had been tied to his horse, but it was no matter—he’d always had a talent for directing his mount with just his knees. Midnight was distressed because of his containment, but he knew the beast would follow his lead.
Busby had told DeFry that he was leading Alex to a specific pathway he wished to take, after which he’d return.
Alex was annoyed to be portrayed as a daft old man who’d gotten lost, even more so because DeFry hadn’t thought to question it.
Before they left, Hamish following, Alex gave instructions to his guards, loyal men who already knew precisely what to do when he was taken captive.
He knew his grandbairns would be upset, but they would follow him. He hoped they would come together, as a group, because he suspected he’d need the spectral swords to get out of this. But he also knew his headstrong granddaughter would be beside herself with worry.
He wished he could tell her there was no need.
Alex wasn’t ready to say goodbye to wee John and Ailith yet. He suspected there could be another couple of grandbairns coming along soon, but he didn’t prod.
The three men didn’t go far before they came upon a small English garrison. Busby left Alex with Hamish and rode ahead to speak with the man in charge of the group.
“You don’t remember me, do you, my laird?” Hamish whispered when he brought his horse abreast of Midnight.
“You look familiar,” Alex said. “Were you one of my guards many years ago?”
“Aye. I lived on Grant land for years, trained every day in the lists. Do not worry, my laird. I’ll help you get through this safely.”
His words were those of a faithful man, but Alex noted that Hamish would not make eye contact with him. Not a good sign. Memories trickled back to him. “Why did you leave Grant land? If my old memory serves me properly, you left without saying a word to anyone. Just disappeared.”
“I received word that my mother was severely ill, so I left in a state of panic. My pardon for not having acted more appropriately. I was young and foolish.”
But Hamish still wouldn’t make eye contact. He hadn’t even turned his head toward Alex.
Alex knew better than to trust a man who wouldn’t look him in the eye. He tried to recall more about Hamish’s time as a Grant warrior, but at the moment his mind came up empty.
Busby returned and said, “The garrison will escort you to Berwick Castle, where the king is presently in residence. Hamish and I will follow, see that you’re treated well.”
“Treated well, my arse,” Alex scoffed. “You’re a traitor, so don’t try to pretend otherwise.”
Busby grabbed the bindings around his wrists, his expression a dark glower. “You’ll regret saying that. I’ll have my chance with you.”
It was then Hamish finally looked at Alex.
His wide grin showed the two missing front teeth, the kind a fist to the face usually caused.
Experience had taught him that a man who lacked those teeth had typically lost them because he was untrustworthy, confirming the inkling he had about the bastard.
But that inkling also told him there was more to Hamish’s story.
What the hell was it?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alex’s scheme is playing out.
The time was nigh. Alex tugged on his bindings, hoping he could free himself once Loki’s group attacked, but the ropes were stronger than he’d anticipated.
He’d given Loki instructions on where he should attack, if possible.
Just as he’d thought, Busby had brought him to the group of English cavalry.
The group numbered around eighty, but Loki had at least two score.
Everyone knew one Highlander could take out two to three Englishmen, so the numbers were good.
He had complete confidence in Loki’s warriors.
He also suspected his granddaughter would come along soon with the spectral swords. They’d assist as necessary. Once this was done, word of the defeat would pass through all the Highlands and Lowlands. Everyone would know a small group of Highlanders had crushed a much larger force of English.
He hoped it would be enough to keep Edward’s son away until next summer.
Once he was free, he’d have the task of convincing the lass that Derric was meant for her.
That he belonged with the spectral swords and would also make a fine addition to Clan Grant.
Of course, he’d have to ensure Corbett had completed his quest, but if he’d spent this much time with Dyna, he must have seen her soft heart.
Unfortunately, the lass could be a wee bit stubborn. Somehow, he’d have to convince her Derric was the one for her.
***
Alex dreams of Maddie again, and finally remembers who Hamish is…