Chapter Sixteen
Ailith
They arrived at Lagavulin a bit ahead of the evening meal. The winds and the weather had worked in their favor.
Cormac approached Dyna and Connor. “Where are you headed? I live on Jura, but I know where Morgan and Magni’s cottage is.
I can take you there, if you like. Magni will be doing two more passes, but Morgan is probably done for the day.
My ship stays here until the morrow, so I’d be pleased to travel with you. They have a pallet for me.”
Connor said, “We appreciate and accept your offer, Cormac. I’m anxious to see my son. We could pick up supplies here? Is it the closest village to Morgan’s place?”
“Nay, we’ll stop near Finlaggan. The market there is much larger than this one.
We can get a couple more horses, while I ready the one we have here, then we’ll visit the market there, though there is one merchant next to the stables who sells wine and spices that Morgan brings in from the mainland. ”
A few hours later, they arrived at Finlaggan, and Ailith was glad to climb off her horse.
Alasdair said, “Lead us on, Edan. I trust you to give us sage advice on the vendors.”
He led them into the village where the few merchant stalls were busy with the local townspeople. Edan and Roger grabbed some dried and smoked meat and a bag of grain to take back with them. At the last minute, Edan grabbed a cask of wine for his sister.
Ailith looked at the many colorful booths, thinking about what she needed most. Boots. “Mama, do you see any shoe vendors?”
Dyna and Emmalin bought some outer garments and sleepwear for the bairns, while Connor and Alasdair spoke with the man selling amber liquid and wines.
Derric was busy with the armorer, studying various daggers and other weaponry.
Ailith stopped to stare at some hair ribbons and a fine bolt of fabric, but she bought nothing there.
She did purchase a pair of nice-looking boots, and her mother bought the same.
She turned to her mother and nearly bumped into a woman, who grabbed onto her sleeve, but her father removed the woman’s hand and pushed Ailith ahead of him. But she couldn’t help but turn around to stare at the woman with the haunted eyes.
Alasdair said, “Time to mount up. Give me your packages. I’m going to help Connor get the horses loaded up. Do you have anything else you wish to purchase? If so, you have about a quarter hour before we leave.”
She looked at Sylvi, and the two spoke at the same time. “Fruit pies!”
Roger and Edan were heading toward the horses. “Edan, go with the lasses, if you please.”
Surprised but pleased, Ailith turned to see Edan nodding in agreement, a faint blush touching her cheeks. Sylvi chuckled and asked Roger, “Where are the fruit pies?”
The four headed down between the merchant stalls. Edan stood a touch behind her, his presence a comforting warmth at her back, and pointed over her shoulder. “The end of this path should have some. And fine meat pies too.”
The two girls led the way, but Ailith slowed when she saw the same woman standing along the path staring at her, her hands clasped in front of her chest as though she were praying.
Sylvi grabbed her hand and tugged her forward, Edan’s hand at her waist, a protective grip that she didn’t mind one bit.
They stopped outside the tent at the end, looking at a row of tarts and pastries. Ailith’s mouth was now watering from all the choices. Her stomach rumbled, and she clutched it. Sylvi let out a hoot. “I heard that!”
The merchant held up a selection from a small, linen-lined crate. “I can offer a selection of tarts with gooseberries or wild strawberries, and I have two tarts with cherries left.”
Ailith said, “We’ll have two of each.” She handed him the coin while his partner packaged the items in a small, cloth-lined tote. Each one was large enough to feed four people.
Edan leaned close, close enough that Ailith felt the heat of him at her back, her pulse quickening despite her resolve not to retreat.
She liked being this near him, liked the quiet strength he carried.
Roger claimed a small package for himself while Edan lifted the tote, and they turned back toward the horses.
They had not gone far when the same woman hurried after them, colliding with Ailith and Sylvi hard enough to nearly send them sprawling.
Ailith cried out, but Edan was instantly there, solid and unyielding behind her.
His arm came around her without hesitation, firm and sure, anchoring her in place.
The contact sent a rush of warmth along her arm, settling her nerves even as her heart raced.
Roger caught Sylvi, and together they faced the woman.
Her voice trembled as she clutched at Ailith’s and Sylvi’s mantles.
“I know you are not from Islay. You must be the ones who have come to help. Please, save them. Please. They are held where the old stones sleep by the western water. My granddaughter. All eight of those sweet bairns. The faeries have them. I am certain of it.”
Edan gently but firmly disengaged the woman’s hands and stepped forward, placing himself between her and the lasses. The movement was instinctive, protective. Watching him, Ailith felt a surge of gratitude and something deeper, something that warmed her from within.
“Here now,” he said evenly. “Leave them be. They are visitors. They know nothing of what you claim.”
She whirled to face him. “And you, step away. They can save them. Someone has to!”
The woman’s weathered face came closer to Sylvi. “You must!”
A younger woman grabbed her from behind. “Mama, leave them be. They know not where our sweet Lizzie is.”
Edan put his arm around Ailith, a gesture both protective and intimately comforting, and picked up the tote, ushering her toward the horses.
Ailith leaned into him, her cheek brushing his tunic, finding solace in the solid wall of his chest.
Roger and Sylvi were right behind them. Sylvi whispered, “I could feel her thoughts. Lizzie is four summers, with brown hair. She’s been missing for six moons.”
Edan said, “You don’t know that.”
Sylvi whispered, “Actually, I do. Where are the old stones near the western water?”
Edan sighed. “A quarter day from here. You won’t want to travel there in the dark.”
“Is she right?” Ailith asked in a hushed tone. “Are there eight missing?”
“Tavish MacKay told me they’d lost three that he knew of, so she could be correct,” Edan replied. “If they’ve lost eight and MacKay’s lost three, that would be three and ten.” Ailith realized he was including his daughter and Milo in that count, though she didn’t mention it.
He stared straight ahead, his face haunted by all he’d heard in the last few days. Ailith met his gaze, a silent promise in her eyes, and squeezed his hand, saying, “Forget about it for now. We’ll consider it on the morrow. Lia will come and we’ll know what to do.”
Edan’s gaze locked on hers. “I hope you’re right. I’m exhausted from all this guessing and wondering and missing my lass. We’ll leave you at the crossing, but I’ll return early on the morrow.”
Ailith stepped toward her horse, her father helping her to mount, while Edan settled the tote in the cart. She and Sylvi were riding together as they had only a few horses. Her uncle had bought a mare to take as a gift to Morgan.
All were silent as they approached the crossing.
Cormac said, “We’re nearly there, and the clouds look favorable. I prefer not to arrive long after the sun goes down. Plenty of deer. Red deer are the most plentiful if you have any hunters.”
Derric said, “Diamond, you have to get us a deer on the morrow.”
Edan rode his horse close to Ailith. “Do you have archers?”
“Aye,” she replied, tipping her head toward Dyna. “She’s one of the finest.”
“A lass who is an archer?” He stared at his brother before looking back at her. “What else is strange about your clan?”
Ailith shrugged, but Tora overheard and snapped, “Naught. We’re hard-working and intelligent, lads and lasses.”
“I meant no offense, lass. We live on Islay and see little beyond our own isle.”
“Mountains?” Connor asked, interrupting—Ailith guessed—on purpose.
“Nay, our trip is mostly flat. Beinn Bheigier is our tallest mountain over there.” He pointed toward the east where the sound was. “But our fields are fertile and we have lochs full of fish.”
Cormac led the way, Edan and Roger riding off to the side.
Sylvi whispered, “Edan cannot keep his hands away from you. Your sire didn’t see the last one. Do you like him?”
Ailith blushed at the thought of admitting her feelings about Edan. How standing next to him made her feel special, how he had a scent of pine that was all his own, and how her favorite thing about him was the way he looked at her. Like she was the most precious gem on the isle.
But she said naught.
“What are you two whispering about?” Tora asked, riding ahead of her mother.
“Girl talk,” Dyna said. “Ignore them.”
They rode in silence for a short bit, taking in the lush scenery on the isle. Sylvi announced, “You know what I think? I think this is going to be a truly strange trip. Strange land, strange people, strange journey.”
Tora said, “I think we’ll have a grand time. I love new lands, new people, new animals.”
Her mother overheard Sylvi’s comment. “Can’t be any stranger than when we moved to Mull, and we survived quite well. Do not worry your pretty head about it. You’ll learn new things about a new land.”
As the sisters grew, Sylvi worried more and Tora worried less.
The younger of the two had a passion for life that Ailith wished she had.
Sylvi was more reserved, as Ailith was. For some reason, whether it be her new powers or her father loosening his reins on her, Ailith had a growing comfort in who she was.
She glanced at Edan, wondering how much was because of him.
Uncle Connor said, “I know one thing you all had better be ready for. Be prepared to swim.”
“Swim?” Sylvi asked.