Chapter 8
After a long sleep in a warm cocoon of blankets by the fire in the cave, Wilona woke.
Rehashing memories of Brodie and the wench, she ground her teeth.
Plots spun through her mind, ideas for how she could get Brodie, Torr, and Gavin together so she could slay them all with one blow.
They deserved whatever hell she rained down on them for killing her only child.
Even if 'twas the last thing she did on this earth, she would avenge Silas's death.
She had put her whole heart into raising him.
She'd given him everything he'd ever wanted.
Even when her late husband had refused him, she'd talked him into providing Silas everything he wished for.
Some said Silas had been spoiled. She didn't see it that way.
As a lad, he had been a chief in training, a future leader.
He'd deserved the finest clothing, the highest-quality weapons, the most expensive horse—the best of everything.
And briefly, he had been an admirable chief, but Gavin MacTavish and his two comrades had cut her son's life short. Who knew what Silas might have achieved if he'd been a chief for decades as his father had been?
As for this cave, Wilona was sick of living like a primitive barbarian, hiding in plain sight from her enemies.
She deserved a fine, warm castle or manor house, nice clothing, and servants to take care of her.
She craved an easier life, not exhausting herself shifting forms or maintaining a youthful glamour.
The only way to attain that was to acquire a significant sum of money, which she was going to get from Talnaroch.
If Elsea told Brodie what she knew, 'twould destroy Wilona's plans.
So, she must either frighten the jezebel away or kill her.
Right now, the forgetting spell was holding strong, but it might weaken over time. 'Twas not a full-blown curse but a weaker, temporary incantation. And the mute spell was much the same.
Earlier, during the raid, Wilona had not known Elsea was on one of Talnaroch's galleys.
Why was she involved? Were she and the earl still lovers?
If so, that would be rich, especially after Brodie had rescued her.
Either way, Wilona had to get Elsea away from Brodie.
'Twould be disastrous if they fell in love again, for that would destroy his curse. Revenge would slip through her fingers.
Wilona must keep the wench from revealing anything to him, and he must never ken the truth about the past.
More determined and energized than she had been in ages, Wilona rose and approached the cave's exit. The fierce wind lashed, and the surf roared.
She shifted into the storm petrel, then launched herself off the sand and into the wind. It attempted to toss her about in the air, but this bird was designed for the challenge.
***
ELSEA'S THOUGHTS FLOATED away like mist as she stared out the window. She would think of something, and then a moment later, it drifted away. Her clearest memories were of her childhood. Her head injury had certainly done some damage.
The maids had washed her hair and helped her bathe. She'd put on a clean, dry nightgown, even though 'twas before noon, but had no notion who it belonged to.
When she had pulled off her smock earlier, she'd been surprised to find a sapphire ring tied to a cord around her neck.
She'd felt it earlier, but thought it was her favorite pendant, the one her da had given her for her birthday.
Instead, it was this mysterious ring. One of the maids had stared at it, her eyes wide but said naught.
Elsea kept the makeshift necklace on, hidden beneath the gown, for it must have been important to her at one time.
The maids had gasped when they had seen the sheathed knives on her calves, strapped on over the trews, and the empty leather sheathes on her forearms. They had removed them along with her damp trews.
Her brothers would be annoyed with her for losing so many weapons.
She was especially heartbroken over losing her prized Highland dirk, which she'd worn on her belt for years.
After the maids had left, she'd strapped on her sheaths again, then moved one sgian dubh to her forearm within easy reach and kept one on her calf. She didn't ken who she could trust here. What of her parents and her four brothers? Did they ken she was here? Would they search for her?
She paced to the table. One of the kitchen maids had left a wooden tray with porridge, bread, and ale. Elsea had eaten a few bites, but she had no appetite. Her head still ached.
She was too antsy to go to bed, even though exhaustion dragged at her.
She paced to the window again and looked out over the gray sea and the rocky shoreline beneath the tempestuous sky.
Sunlight faded in and out of the billowing white clouds.
A parterre lay far below, just beneath the window, inside the curtain wall.
It contained a couple of benches, herbs, and roses.
Though autumn had arrived, a few pink blooms persisted.
The view was somewhat familiar, mayhap because she had seen the sea several times.
But Farspag had to be quite a distance from Kincreag, because her home was farther inland.
Who had brought her to the coast, or had she ridden alone?
Nay, she'd been on a galley, but that made no sense.
'Twas impossible to take a galley from Kincreag to the coast, unless she traveled to a sea loch first.
She had never been so confused.
Earlier, when Brodie had asked her when they had first met, Elsea knew she'd given the wrong answer, based on the disbelieving look in his eyes. But she honestly couldn't remember him before that morn.
When she'd asked him the same question, at first, she was unsure whether he would answer. Hesitating, he'd looked away, then finally said, "Over two years ago."
She still couldn't grasp it. Had she known him that long? Or had they only met briefly one time? What had been the nature of their association?
Besides that, some of his men knew who she was, so she must have met all of them before. They'd said her name and eyed her in disbelief, some glaring. Why?
Pain shot through her head, and thinking hard made it worse. She sat near the hearth, hoping her hair would dry soon.
Recalling naught from the past three years disturbed her... if she was one-and-twenty now.
Would Brodie help her get back home? Why had she left home to begin with? She tried hard to dredge up a recent memory, but couldn't. Her head pain was growing worse.
A light knock sounded at the door. She rose and opened it. Amy, the young maid who had helped her earlier, entered. She wore her brown hair pulled back into a bun.
"The physician bid me to bring you this. 'Tis a warm tisane of willow bark and herbs for the pain in your head and to help you sleep."
Elsea nodded, for she had heard of this. She did not believe Finnian would wish to harm her. He was a kind old man, surely. She drank the tisane, and though 'twas bitter, she choked it down.
Still unable to speak, she nodded her thanks. The maid curtsied and left.
Soon, the herbs worked their magic, and she grew sleepy.
She crawled beneath the blankets and counterpane. After getting warm, she drifted into dreams.
A woman lurked there, in the shadowy recesses of her mind. She stepped out, the candlelight glaring off her flaming ginger hair. Her green eyes, the color of poison hemlock, narrowed. She looked vaguely familiar, but Elsea couldn't place her.
"You are to convince someone to take you back to your brother's home forthwith. Or you will regret it."
"What? Who are you?" Elsea asked, surprised she could speak in this dream.
"That matters not. You are to stay away from Chief Brodie MacCain."
"Why?"
"You ask too many questions," the woman growled in a hateful voice.
"Naught makes sense."
"I'm glad to know your memory is completely gone." The woman smirked.
Elsea frowned. What a horrible thing to say.
"Ask Brodie to have some of his guards escort you to Kincreag Castle. If you do not, your life will be forfeit."
Ice prickled along Elsea's nerves. "You're threatening to kill me?"
The hag lifted a thin ginger brow.
Elsea dared not move, her thoughts muddled.
She wanted to go home, but she also wished to know how she'd come to be here. And she wanted to remember more about Brodie and their prior association. "I cannot speak outside of dreams, so I cannot ask him," Elsea said, thinking that was a good excuse.
"Aye, you can."
***
WHEN ELSEA WAS ALMOST ready to wake up from the nightmare, Wilona opened the bedchamber window and transformed into storm petrel form.
She flew into the whipping wind and misting rain, trying to make her way back to the island. But the challenge was too much for her to bear. She hadn't rested long enough between shifts, and was already growing tired. 'Twould be impossible to fight the brutal wind and return to the cave.
Struggling, she flapped her wings, but the gale kept carrying her northward along the coast. The shift would happen soon!
She scanned the land below her, and Dunrhyne Castle came into view.
Was Talnaroch in residence? Smoke wafted from two of the chimneys, and a half dozen horses lingered outside.
Mayhap the earl had left a few men to guard the place.
He wouldn't mind her staying a short while. They were business partners, after all.
Even if he objected, she would do what she wished. If the men discovered her, she would vanish and pretend to be a ghost. She snorted, imagining scaring the wits out of them.
The evening before, Wilona had left her pilfered clothing in one of the upper floor's rooms before shifting and flying out to the selkie's island. She flew into the same chamber through the broken window. As her strength gave way, she landed gently on the floor before turning human. Whew. No pain.