Chapter 7
Duncan stood as still as a mountain cat, as if he expected the hare to run out of its hiding place at any moment.
And then it did. With an ease that seemed to come from years of practice, he pointed the arrow shaft and let it fly.
The arrow whizzed through the air, and cleanly pierced through the animal.
He was about to retrieve the game when Adrina’s foot stepped on a twig, snapping it.
He pivoted. “Why arenae ye with the beasts?” he asked, frowning when he saw her.
“I didnae want tae be alone,” she said, hugging her arms to her stomach. “I feared that someone was —”
“Nay one would have harmed ye,” he said, cutting her off. “I wouldnae have left ye by yourself if there was such a threat.” Duncan retrieved the hare, and started back to where their horses waited.
“Ye might have told me this before ye left,” she said, following him.
He grunted, but didn’t say anything else. At first he strung the dead hare to the back of his steed, and then turned to lift her onto her mount.
Off in the distance, wild geese honked as they passed over the area. Moving a few paces more, she heard the surge of water from a nearby loch. And as they moved closer to the watercourse, she felt the occasional cool breeze breaking through the tree barriers, brushing across her skin.
By now the rolling heather slopes had disappeared hours ago, and Adrina only had view of the forest that encompassed them.
Under her, she caught the distinct crunching and swishing of vegetation being trampled beneath the horses’ hooves.
And every heavy step they took released the smell of earth, leaves and bracken.
On her right lay a small rocky outcrop that was overgrown with sphagnum.
However a small cluster of flowers, the blooms as red as the speckles in her bloodstone, somehow managed to spring up from the bed of moss.
And even as the sun began to drop in the sky, the leaves on the trees caught the sunlight, shimmering on the branches like pretty coins.
Yet, despite all the beauty that encircled her, she was well aware that darkness and silence would conceal it all.
And the only things that remained were questionable and sinister.
A chill ran through her as the idea took hold in her mind.
As she tried to rub away the gooseflesh from her arms, she felt even colder.
Suddenly she began to feel dizzy as well. Raising her hands, she cradled the sides of her head in an attempt to gain relief. And when she closed her eyes, a faint image appeared in her mind. She shook her head, trying in vain to prevent herself from hallucinating.
“Nay, I dinnae want tae see anything!”
But it was no use. She forced her eyes open, and with a sinking feeling, she discovered that the forest had disappeared, and she now stood in the courtyard of Dunnvie Castle.
For several seconds, she was met with silence, but as she continued to observe the scene in front of her, she became aware of the low murmur of the people who surrounded her.
A slight movement caught in her peripheral vision, and when she turned her head, her heart skipped at seeing her father.
He was so close that she could almost touch the sash of his great kilt.
In all respects, she should have felt joyful at seeing her sire, but the expression on his face frightened her.
She had never seen him like this before.
He stared straight ahead, while the muscle at the side of his jaw pulsated.
Another small movement to the right of her father drew her attention. It was her mother, she realized. Her mother’s face was pinched and stained with tears. Her hair was in disarray, and she appeared to have aged several years.
Adrina clenched her fists. Usually she only had to endure the vision up to this point. But for some reason, her guidance wanted to show her more.
“Ye cannae do this!” Alarm increased the volume in her mother’s voice, as she was pushed to climb the large platform. She turned to her husband. “Stop them, Tevon!”
But even her father knew that he was powerless.
“Keep moving,” the executioner said gruffly, nudging them toward the hanging ropes.
“Nay,” Adrina whispered. “This isnae happening. This cannae be happening. This is only a dream…”
She propped her forehead on her palm. Her parents were living when she left Dunnvie, and they would be alive when she returned.
They had to be! She covered her ears and shook her head, trying to block out the awful scenes.
Yet her mother’s cries still echoed in her head.
Why was she experiencing the impressions now?
All previous times, this particular vision had come to her in her sleep.
This time, however, it struck her while she was fully conscious.
So what did this mean? Did something terrible happen to her parents while she was away?
The turmoil continued to swirl in her body, leaving her helpless and afraid. But then the sweeping chill abruptly left her. As she lifted her head, she discovered that she was once again surrounded by the vibrant colors of the forest.
She took in a deep breath. The execution hadn’t taken place. What she saw was only a nightmare. There was no truth to any of it. Unless she saw physical evidence to indicate otherwise, her parents were alive and well.
“This is where we’ll make camp…” Duncan said, his voice interjecting into her thoughts.
“What did ye say?” She sat up on her saddle, grateful for the distraction.
“I said that we’ll spend the night here.” His brow furrowed with concern, and something else too. “Are ye all right, lass? Ye look ill.”
Adrina felt heat rise to her cheeks when she realized how she must have appeared to him. She knew that she shouldn’t care what he thought of her, but she didn’t want him to view her with fear and abhorrence. She already experienced plenty of that in Dunnvie.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “I just have a wee headache.”
Duncan studied her face, but she must have sounded convincing enough because he abandoned the subject.
Circling around her horse, he came to help her dismount.
Then gathering the reins, he led the horses to secure them to a nearby tree.
He started to take a sack and the dead hare from the horse when he paused.
“Do ye ken how to start a cookfire?”
“Of course,” she said. “A woodcutter once taught me how tae do it.”
“Guid, then I willnae have tae explain what ye need tae do,” he said, handing her the bag.
“Ye will find the flint inside the pack, and there should be enough dry material around here for ye tae start a fire. I’ll be by the river tae clean the hare.
” With that, he took his catch and walked toward the loch.
She watched him leave, feeling at once relieved that he didn’t question her odd behavior, yet also feeling scared that her visions would return.
But the unsettling fears soon faded to the back of her mind.
Picking up large and small twigs, fallen leaves and dried brush, she placed them into a pile.
Next, she searched for medium-sized rocks, and formed them into a circle.
Arranging the dry material in the center of her small fire pit, she then brushed her palms together to get rid of the dirt from her hands.
Her next task was to use the flint to start the blaze.
Slipping her hand in the sack, her fingers encountered the smooth, cool surface of the bottle.
Gladness filled her heart. This was the anecdote that would free her people.
Pulling it out, she examined the dark liquid within the container.
She had gone so far to obtain this potion.
Recalling the difficulty in brewing the tincture, she didn’t want to risk anything happening to it.
Then with great care, she placed the vial back into the sack, and dug around until she found the flintstone.
In short time, Adrina had a cheery little fire burning in the pit. Stretching her arms out, she allowed the heat of the fire to warm her hands.
It was the leaves that were the first to burn.
As the material curled in the fire, it released a fragrant vapor.
Adrina sat back on her heels, and watch the tendrils of smoke rising higher and higher.
Her eyes traced the delicate gray wisps that swirled and danced to a music that seemed indiscernible to human ears.
She had never seen smoke behave in this manner before, and she watched it with fascination.
But then the curling haze changed direction, as if a small gust of wind had pushed it aside, and the area above the fire pit began to shimmer.
While she might have considered that the flames triggered the curious waves, however that assumption couldn’t begin to explain the multiple colors that rippled through it.
The smoke patterns in front of her continued to swirl and dance.
It was impossible to look away. Holding her breath, she watched as the vapor spun more rapidly, forming into a large mass.
Then the smoke unexpectedly stopped its motion and began to shift.
Still part of the mist remained, and soon a faint image began to show itself.
She leaned closer to get a clear view of the picture, but it wasn’t necessary.
“Duncan,” she whispered, recognizing his likeness. Somehow she was viewing him remotely, and without his knowledge.
As the seconds passed, the picture became more vivid, so vivid that it was as if he stood a few short paces away from her. Her mind couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing, yet she knew she couldn’t turn away even if she tried.
Every warrior she knew wore a kilt, carried a claymore, and fought in wars. There was nothing special about any of these things. So why was she so fascinated, so curious by this particular Highlander?
Pivoting on his heels, and with his back to her, Duncan stood at the edge of the loch, and casually loosened his belt.
Her hand went reflexively to her mouth when he pulled off his great kilt, and dropped the material to the ground.
She glanced nervously behind her, and was relieved to find that no one was there to witness her guilty pleasure.
Then as if the image above the fire held some magnetic force, her scrutiny was immediately drawn back to him.
But what she saw next caused her to suck in a sharp breath.
Duncan was now reaching behind him, pulling the leine over his head.
At the sight of his naked masculine frame, she lost all coherent thought.
Her eyes traced his broad shoulders down to the curve of his tight, well-formed backside.
Every muscle on his body was defined, and established from long hours of labor and combat.
Taking long and powerful strides, Duncan made his way toward the bank.
She didn’t think she had ever seen anyone so beautiful, or so wild.
It seemed that he belonged in the forest, and was perhaps not a man but an immortal.
But she was spying on him, she realized, and a guilty blush bloomed across her cheeks.
Still, her eyes continued to lock onto the scene that unfolded in front of her.
If she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to miss a single detail.
At any moment, he could turn around, and she could view him from another perspective.
But Duncan continued to present his back to her. As he clamored down the bank, he waded into the loch until it came up to his waist, and rippled around his athletic form.
After scooping up a handful of water to wash his face, he dove into the clear water.
He seemed to disappear for long minutes, and she waited almost impatiently for him to re-emerge.
But then he burst through the surface, facing her way.
Shaking the water from his hair, the droplets sprayed every which way.
Duncan raised his hands, and ran his long fingers through his damp locks.
Adrina’s eyes traced the curve of his biceps, which bulged slightly from the movement.
He was the epitome of male splendor. From this new angle, she could see that his massive chest was muscular and chiseled, as if he was cut from stone.
Along his tanned, smooth flesh, she could discern the ridges of his sculpted abdomen.
How would it feel to trace her palm over his solid contours?
She plucked at the front of her kirtle, unexpectedly feeling as if she had stood too long in the mid-day sun.
Suddenly Duncan looked up, and stared into the direction of the trees, an alarmed expression on his face.
Adrina’s hand on the stick tightened as she leaned closer to see what it was that disturbed him. But then a large black mass descended, obscuring the picture.
She blinked, and the image of Duncan was gone. All that remained were a few faint wisps of smoke.
“What happened?” she asked out loud, the question sounding shrill to her ears. But there was no one in the woods to answer her.
“Show me Duncan,” she demanded, poking at the embers with her stick. “Reveal what has happened tae him.”
But there was nothing.
“’Tis because ye are thinking obsessively about him,” she muttered to herself, trying to push away her doubts.
She thrust the stick into the embers, watching the sparks fly into the air.
She didn’t need to concern herself with him.
After all, he was a trained warrior, a man who was more than capable of taking care of himself.
Adrina directed her attention back to the fire pit, resolving to finish building a fire that would satisfy Duncan. If he returned to camp, and discovered that the fire wasn’t ready, he likely would think that she was incompetent.
She picked up another stick, absently jabbing at the burning wood in the fire pit. But even as she tried to occupy her mind with mundane things, doubt continued to grow and churn inside her belly. And then the whispers in her mind, became louder and more persistent with each passing second.
Evil was afoot.
Was there really something wicked looming about?
Certainly she could recall the sinister feeling she had experienced earlier.
What if something horrible happened to Duncan, and he needed her help?
She was the only one nearby who could come to his aid.
If the situation was reversed, she was certain that he would come to her rescue.
Throwing the stick into the middle of the fire, she stood up. That was it; she had to see if Duncan was all right.