Chapter Thirteen
Edan
It had been a busy day at Duart. Packing satchels, a few crates of necessities, settling horses, and arranging food for a voyage had kept everyone busy.
Edan and Roger took the opportunity to visit the lists just outside the curtain wall.
He’d practiced his sword skills when he was younger, but he hadn’t had many opportunities to use them.
Watching the group for a short time told him he needed to work hard to measure up to this group. They watched Maitland go against three men at a time, then Ailith’s father jumped in to give Maitland a break.
Edan turned to his brother. “I’m asking for a bit of training. Join me, Roger?”
“Nay. I’m going to visit the armorer, see what I can learn. You enjoy yourself.” He clasped Edan’s shoulder and left with a smirk.
Edan moved up to Maitland. “You have some fine warriors here. May I request a session? I need to brush up on my skills. We’ve not had many battles on Islay.” His father had forced him and Roger to practice, but he’d gotten lazy.
“I’d be pleased to give you some pointers. Islay is mostly peaceful? I’ll tell Alasdair. He’ll feel better about this journey.” He wiped the sweat from his brow and cleaned his blade with a thick cloth.
“Let’s go over here. No need to set you in the middle of our best swordsmen until you’re ready.”
Edan worked hard, relishing the feel of his weapon in his hand. He had brought one of their newest creations with him. Maitland was a good instructor and had a calm demeanor that many of the other Grants lacked. When he finished, he said, “My thanks to you, Maitland.”
Maitland winked at him and said, “You’re going to have to show you can protect her if you hope to be accepted.” Then he headed toward the stables, whistling.
He wasn’t quite sure what the man meant by that, but he shrugged it off, heading to the armorer to join his brother.
***
That night, Edan saw Ailith step outside and decided to follow her. Once they cleared the courtyard, he called, “Ailith, a moment, if you please?” Perhaps he should have spoken to someone else, but he found himself inexplicably drawn to her.
There was something about her. While she was a beautiful lass, it wasn’t her beauty that captivated him.
She possessed an inherent trustworthiness, an essence he completely relied on, and at present, he desperately needed stability in his life.
Roger had already fallen asleep, having returned from the stables after helping the lads pack food for the several horses they were taking on the journey, along with the largest and finest warhorses Edan had ever seen.
Ailith stopped and turned, waiting for his approach. “What is it?” she asked.
“Could we talk for a moment? There’s a bench that overlooks the sea around the corner. Would you mind?”
“Nay, I’ll come along.” Ailith led the way to the bench. “Is something wrong, Edan? You are returning with us on the morrow, aye?”
“Aye, and I am grateful some of you are returning with me, but there are so many lasses going along. Why?”
“Because the situation on Islay is not a usual situation, so we think it’s best to bring seers along with us.”
He got up and paced a bit, looking out over the water before taking a seat next to her again.
“But I think we need more warriors. More men. I believe that mayhap some mercenaries have taken my daughter, intending to sell her. I’ve heard others talking about selling bairns over the sea.
If that’s what is happening, then we need warriors.
Who will be in charge of the group leaving on the morrow? ”
“Dyna.”
“A woman? Truly?”
Ailith jerked as if he’d slapped her. As someone who had grown up in Clan Grant, this unfavorable opinion of women was new to her experience.
She’d spent time with other clans too: Clan Ramsay, known for its all-female archers; Clan Drummond, led by Chieftain Diana; and Clans Cameron and Matheson, all of whom valued women.
She’d been protected more than she’d known, but this was her turn to teach someone to think differently, a lesson her mother had taught her.
As a MacLintock, she’d had to fight to prove her value as a woman before she and her father had become co-chieftains of MacLintock Castle.
And her mother had fought hard against an evil English baron.
“A woman. Aye. The strongest one I know. You’d do well not to underestimate her, or any of the lasses on this ship. Did you not listen to the other conversations about what we learned last eve, Edan?”
He held her gaze, his jaw working. “Forgive me. I meant no offense to your chieftain.” He looked away, out over the water. “My daughter is missing, Ailith. I want every sword in Scotland between her and whoever took her. Tell me what you learned last eve.”
“That the Unseelie are probably involved. That your daughter is probably being held inside a faery hill.”
He raised his hands, cutting her off. “Nay, I disagree. Faeries have naught to do with this. You can’t possibly believe that to be true. Faery hill. What the hell is a faery hill?”
A man resembling Ailith came around the corner and quickly introduced himself. “Edan, my name is John, and I’m Ailith’s brother. We spoke with someone last night who is convinced your daughter is in a faery hill on Islay.”
Edan squared his shoulders and lifted his chin.
“Aye, I witnessed a lass riding a dolphin, and Sylvi convinced me that she has special talents, but a faery hill? I don’t know that I can believe in that, John.
” His father’s last words echoed in his mind, the grip he’d had on Edan’s hand so tight for a man in his weakened state that Edan would never forget the moment.
John stood next to Ailith while Edan began to pace, kicking stones about as he moved.
Her brother glanced at his sister, then pressed on.
“I think you need to consider that possibility. We can’t tell you more about our source, but once we arrive on Islay, I believe you’ll be convinced.
Ailith, a seer, has a special talent for seeing into the past. Once she’s on Islay, we believe she’ll be able to see exactly what happened to your daughter. ”
Edan spun around to face her, his eyes wide. “You’re a seer, Ailith? Why have you kept this a secret? If you truly are, then tell me now. Where is Heilyn?”
Ailith replied, “I haven’t kept anything secret. I just learned of this talent with the help of Lady Menzie and Dyna. If I knew where she was, I would tell you, but I can’t see her now. I think she’s too far away.”
John pulled out a dagger, tested its edge on a broken twig, then threw it at a distant tree. His first throw missed. He pulled out two more and threw the three knives in quick succession, each blade embedding deeply in the trunk.
Edan watched, impressed.
John stopped and wiped his hands on his trews.
“Your daughter has to be on Islay. We have a group of seers: one for the present, one who hears the unspoken, and Ailith for the past. Dyna’s even stronger powers will help them find answers, but she also needs to be near Islay.
Your island is known for faery activity.
Did you not know that?” He retrieved all his daggers, re-sheathing them, and tipped his head toward Edan, waiting for an answer.
Edan rubbed his knuckles across his beard, keeping the truth to himself.
He wouldn’t tell anyone. His father had spoken of the thin barrier for years, but Edan had chosen not to believe him.
It was the sole reason his father had moved their family to Jura, or so Edan had been told.
After their father died, he, Roger, and Catrina decided to return to Islay, pleased to find out it had more fertile soil.
Edan never believed all the ramblings from his sire about faeries, banshees, and other otherworldly beings, so he’d shoved them from his mind.
He crossed his arms, determined not to discuss such fanciful notions with John.
As stubborn as his father, he would not be deterred. “Nay,” Edan scoffed, “I’ve heard naught about Islay being more receptive to faeries. And what exactly is a ‘thin barrier’ supposed to do?”
John narrowed his gaze but said little. “A thin barrier allows the Seelie and the Unseelie to move between worlds with ease. Easier than on Mull, for instance.” Ailith’s brother was tall and broad-shouldered, a head taller than his sister but a bit shorter than his sire.
His presence was powerful, even without his sword, and he spoke with the confidence of a Highland chieftain.
Edan was pleased to learn that John would be joining them. They needed fierce warriors like him to fight off the mercenaries who were stealing bairns.
“John,” Edan pressed, “I have no use for tales. I have a missing daughter and no time for faery hills.”
John moved closer, standing eye-to-eye with him. “If you insist on being that stubborn, you’ll have a hard time getting your daughter back then.”
Edan would not back down and refused to accept such a tale. “We shall see. My father’s belief in faeries drove him mad and ruined our family. I will not follow him down that same path. Have you not considered that there could be mercenaries working much like the ones caught on Mull a decade ago?”
“I was here then, and I fought against them, all driven by the greed of one man and one woman. This is different, and I don’t have to be a seer to feel it. But I have an open mind, so if mercenaries are at work on Islay, we’ll find them too.”
John looked at Ailith, who said, “I’ll believe in the Seelies until the faeries leave and say they won’t be back.”
“You’ve seen a true faery?”
“I have. You’ve never seen Lia?” Ailith asked. “I thought you saw her on the voyage here with Magni.”
Edan wouldn’t admit the truth of it. “I saw something I was unsure of, but I cannot tell you that she was a faery. But she was a bit otherworldly. I’ll admit that much.”
“Her name is Lia. She’s a Seelie, one of the guid people. You’ll meet her, and she will explain about the Unseelie.”
“Edan, I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to help you find your daughter. We’ll locate her with Ailith’s help. I’ve some packing left, so I’ll take my leave.” John nodded and left.
Edan turned back to Ailith, suddenly aware of how close they stood. His gaze traced her tall form, and he felt that familiar pull. One of the many reasons he admired her was her fearlessness, her willingness to challenge him. She had a strong constitution, as his father would have put it.
With John gone, her nearness pressed in on him. Her lips parted as she watched him. He leaned close before he thought better of it.
His wife had been dead just over a year. Their marriage had been arranged, barely begun before Florie died. They had never learned each other’s hearts.
Guilt sat in his chest like a stone. The empty cradle. Florie’s last breath. He had no right to want, not now.
He brushed his lips across Ailith’s. Light. Brief. More question than kiss.
She drew back first.
Her fingers rose to her own mouth, then dropped. She studied him, and there was no anger in it, only something careful. “Should we be doing this?”
He had no answer ready.
“Your daughter is out there somewhere. Your wife is barely a year gone.” Her voice stayed even. “I will not be a thing you reach for because you’re grieving.”
The honesty of it humbled him. “It was not grief. Or not only. I have thought of little but you since you spoke to me in that hall.”
She held his gaze a long moment. “Then think on it. I’ll not run.” A small, dry curve touched her mouth. “But I’ll not be kissed and apologized to, as though it were a mistake.”
“Then I’ll not apologize.”
“Good.” She stepped back, putting honest space between them. “We’ve your daughter to find. And I’d have you keep an open mind, Edan. About all of it.”
He doubted anything would change his mind. The only thing he’d be forced to accept on Islay was how desperately he wanted Ailith Grant. Her tall, broad-shouldered brother, parents, and other family members would likely be there.
Perhaps distance was his wisest course.
She affected him in ways unrelated to faeries but entirely connected to the loneliness that had carved a hollow in his chest since Florie’s death. Starved as he was for connection, he doubted his ability to resist.
Hell.
Staying away from Ailith Grant would be absolutely impossible.