Forbidden Highlander

Chapter Twenty-Six

Fallon waited until the door shut behind Larena before he opened his eyes. He had hoped what they had shared the night before would keep her by his side in the morning, but he had been wrong.

As much as he wanted to, he hadn’t stopped her from leaving. With a sigh, he rose and dressed, but instead of heading to the great hall, Fallon went looking for Sonya.

He had seen the way she’d stiffened when Broc’s name was spoken. It couldn’t be mere coincidence that she also knew Broc. There was something about Broc’s appearance and his helping rescue Malcolm that kept niggling at Fallon.

“Morning, brother,” Lucan greeted him.

Fallon stopped in the corridor. “Morning. How is Malcolm faring?”

“Well. Larena is with him now. I’ve taken Cara to bed. She’s exhausted.”

“Good,” Fallon said. “I’m glad to hear he’s mending well. Have you seen Sonya this morn?”

“Aye. She’s on the battlements. Is something wrong?”

Fallon hesitated. He saw the question in his brother’s sea-green eyes. “I don’t know yet. She reacted at the mention of Broc’s name.”

“And you want to see if there is a connection,” Lucan finished. “Aye, I would as well. Do you think she knows him?”

“Could be. Anything is possible. We know nothing of Broc other than what Ramsey has shared with us.”

Lucan leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze thoughtful. “Broc is a mystery. I’d like to talk to him myself.”

“Stand in line, brother.”

Lucan chuckled before he dropped his arms and pushed off the wall. “I expect a full report later.”

Fallon shook his head as his brother walked away. Gone was the bleakness that had lurked in Lucan’s eyes for too many years. Lucan was once more the man Fallon had known before the murder of their clan. Now, if only everything else could be as it once was.

When Fallon walked onto the battlements he found Sonya, just as Lucan had said. She stood with her back to the sea. Her hands gripped the stones tightly, her concentration palpable.

“Are you listening to the trees?”

She turned her head to glance at him. “I can barely hear them. I’m too far away. Every once in a while I will catch a word, but not enough to make sense.”

“Have you always lived in the forest?”

“For as long as I can remember.”

Fallon kept his gaze on her as he leaned an elbow on the stones. “What of your family?”

“My parents are dead and have been for many years. All I have left is an elder sister who likes to spend her days picking wildflowers.”

“Were you born with the Druids?”

She shook her head. “Nay. From what little I was told when I questioned the Druids, we were brought to them when I was just walking and my sister barely older.”

“Interesting. What do you know of Broc?”

Finally, she turned to face him. Her amber gaze was steady as she met his eyes. “What makes you think I know anything?”

“You flinched yesterday when his name was spoken.”

Sonya sighed and looked down at her hands, but not before he saw a flicker of emotion. “My sister spoke of a Broc, a man who would visit her on occasion. She would often speak of their future together, but when I questioned her about him she wouldn’t tell me more. After a while, she quit talking about him altogether.”

“Do you think it’s the same Broc?”

She shrugged and looked into his face. “Fallon, my sister is a gentle soul. She is a good person, but the evil in the world does not trouble her. Anice thinks she can stay in the protected grove and keep away from Deirdre and any wickedness that could threaten her.”

“But you don’t?”

“Nay,” she admitted softly. “I don’t. I tried to convince the other Druids to leave, but the grove has been their home for too long. They feel safe there.”

Fallon blew out a breath. He was troubled by what he had learned. “Can you convince the Druids to come here?”

“I doubt it. I told them of the warning the trees had given me, but they held firm to staying in the grove. I tried to get Anice to come with me, but she said she couldn’t leave. For all I know Broc is someone she made up. She was always going out into the forest alone. I would see her talking to herself, carrying on conversations with people that weren’t there.”

“I’m sorry, Sonya.”

She waved away his words. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I gave them the warning.”

“Surely you don’t want your sister in Deirdre’s hands.”

Sonya’s gaze burned him. “Of course not. But I cannot force the Druids to leave. I told them where I was and begged them to come here should something happen.”

“Let me send Warriors to them.”

“You would never find them.”

Fallon straightened and reined in his growing ire. “Then you take a couple of Warriors and find them.”

“I wish I could, Fallon, but I cannot leave. It’s not just Malcolm that needs me. The trees told me I had to come here and stay, that if I leave MacLeod Castle, Deirdre will find me. And before you think me a coward, know that if I end up in Deirdre’s hands, the location to Druids that have evaded her will be known.”

“I would never think you a coward, Sonya. You forget I’ve been in Deirdre’s mountain. I’ve seen what she can do. You are right to want to stay away from her, but we need to get the Druids here before she does find them. And she will eventually.”

She sighed and nodded. “I will try to send a message through the trees if I can.”

Fallon covered her hand that still held the stones in a death grip. “You did all you could. Let me and the others help you for once.”

“Thank you.” Her lips quivered as she smiled.

Fallon left her on the battlements and walked to the hall. He glanced at Ramsey and Hayden who sat at the other table looking over the fake scroll. Fallon slid into his seat by his brother and blew out a breath.

“That bad?” Lucan asked around his mouthful of food.

Fallon was glad the other Warriors weren’t in the hall. He was still sorting out all Sonya had told him. “The group of Druids Sonya lived with are in danger.” He reached for some food and began telling Lucan everything he’d learned.

When he was finished Lucan whistled long and low. “I hope she can send the message. I cannot believe the Druids would think they were safe in the forest. No one is safe from Deirdre, not even here, but at least with us they stand a chance.”

“The grove is known to them. I can understand not wanting to leave a magical and protected place.”

“And Broc?” Lucan prodded.

Fallon tore off another piece of bread and rested his forearms on the table. “Sonya doesn’t know if he’s real or not.”

“Is there something wrong with her sister mentally?”

“Sonya didn’t say as much, but I think there might be.”

Lucan drained his goblet and set it on the table. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see about Broc then.”

“I suppose so. I was hoping to learn something about him, but I know less than yesterday.”

“By the way,” Lucan said, and leaned close to Fallon. “I found your and Larena’s clothes this morning in the village. I folded them and put them in her chamber.”

Fallon inwardly cursed. He had forgotten all about their clothing. “I appreciate it.”

“Have you two resolved anything?”

Fallon shook his head. “I don’t know that we ever will, Lucan. I would give her anything she wanted, but each morning, she leaves my bed with the sun.”

“Give it time. I see the way she looks at you. There is something there, Fallon.”

Larena wiped Malcolm’s brow and silently willed her cousin to wake. She worried about his arm and how it would affect his future, but deep inside she knew she was running from the memories of her night with Fallon. She had stared at her neck in the mirror for a long time that morning still surprised to see his mark on her.

Her hand went to her neck and the bite that was now covered by her tunic. She wondered if Fallon was angry to find her gone once more that morning. How could she explain that staying to see him wake up was a step she couldn’t take? Not yet anyway.

She knew her time with Fallon was running out. If she didn’t give herself to him, she would lose him forever. Fallon had offered her everything. What had she done? She had kept part of herself from him, but more than that, she hadn’t trusted him with the truth about the Scroll.

Larena put her head in her hands as she felt the tears threaten again. How she hated to cry. Ever since she had met Fallon the tears had been nearly unstoppable.

He deserved the truth. All of it. If he hated her for it, then so be it. As a Highlander and laird to a clan, he should understand the weight of a vow.

Her decision to tell him made, she lifted her head and wiped her eyes. She needed to find Fallon before she changed her mind. She could help Ramsey and Hayden with the scroll so they could fool Deirdre completely.

But as she turned to leave, she heard her name whispered.

Larena whirled around to find Malcolm looking at her through his one good eye. She smiled and reached for his hand. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he murmured, and licked his cracked lips.

She reached for the cup of water and raised his head to help him drink. Once he was finished she wiped the water from his chin and brushed a lock of blond hair from his eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

He grunted. “Like. Hell.”

“I know, but you’re going to get better. You’re at Fallon’s.”

Malcolm’s brow furrowed, and she saw the questions forming in his mind.

“Not yet, cousin,” she said. “You need to rest. There will be time enough later for answers.”

“All right.”

“Are you in pain?”

He nodded as his eyes drifted shut.

Larena squeezed his hand. “I will get you something. Rest easy.”

When she turned around Sonya was in the doorway. The Druid’s amber gaze was troubled, but she quickly schooled her features and smiled.

“He woke?” Sonya asked.

“Aye, and he’s in pain.”

Sonya strode to the bed. “I’ll mix some herbs in his water. It will ease his pain and allow him to rest.”

“Thank you.”

The Druid looked at her. “There’s no need to thank me. This is what I do, the gift I was given. I will continue to use my magic to speed his healing.”

Larena glanced at Malcolm once more. “Thank you anyway. If you ever need anything, Sonya, I will help you.”

“It is good that you’ve come here. This is where you belong,” Sonya said.

Larena let Sonya treat her cousin and left the cottage, strangely content at the Druid’s words. She looked at the castle against the blue of the sky. She imagined it must have been magnificent in its former glory with the towers reaching to the clouds and the air filled with the MacLeod war cry.

The only evidence now of the massacre was the gray stone that was marred from the fire and the one tower yet to be rebuilt. The castle didn’t house the MacLeod clan any longer, but if Fallon had his way, the land would be filled with people once more.

Druids and Warriors who dared to stand against an evil such as Deirdre would gather on this land and face the greatest battle of their lives.

“Larena!”

She turned to find Galen, Logan, and Camdyn holding up a large post.

“We need you,” Galen called.

Larena glanced at the castle. Her confession to Fallon would have to wait.

Broc steeled himself, as he always did, before he walked into the mountain. Ten steps inside and he could hear the screams from the dungeons below. Those screams would haunt his dreams for eternity.

Though he wanted to find his own chamber, Broc knew he had to see Deirdre first. There would be a punishment for him, he was sure. Deirdre didn’t like to be kept waiting.

Broc took the narrow stairs that wound up the mountain. When he reached the top, he turned left and walked down the corridor.

There were times he could have sworn the stones were alive, that they could read his thoughts and feel his hatred. He had been a part of Deirdre’s army for so long now that he should be used to it, but he knew he never would be. The mountain was an unholy place, a place where wickedness thrived and built with each passing day.

He nodded to the two Warriors guarding Deirdre’s door. They knocked and announced his presence. Broc heard her shout a response through the thick rock of her door.

As her double doors creaked open, Broc cleared his mind of everything but the MacLeods. It was a trick he had learned early on, and one that had saved his life countless times.

The first thing he did was look to the spot where Deirdre had been holding James prisoner in the rocks. The Warrior lifted eyes full of hate and anger to Broc.

“Where have you been?” Deirdre demanded as she walked into the chamber.

Broc glanced at the doorway she had just passed through. He glimpsed her bed and a man’s feet. He knew without a doubt it was Quinn. Was Quinn there because he wanted to be, or was Deirdre keeping him chained to her bed? Broc sighed inwardly. He wouldn’t get to talk to Quinn again now.

Deirdre’s white brows rose. “Well?”

“I stayed behind after the attack to see what Fallon and the others would do,” he lied.

The ends of Deirdre’s white hair twitched and rose from the floor. He had felt the sting of her hair before, and he had watched her strangle enough people with it to know that whenever she called for its use, it wasn’t good.

“Did you tell Fallon everything I told you to?”

Broc bowed his head. “Of course, mistress. Every word.” And then some, but she didn’t need to know that.

“And Larena? Did you see her?”

“I did. She is alive.”

Deirdre let her gaze run slowly over him. “You’ve been loyal to me a long time, Broc. I’ve never questioned your allegiance, but don’t be late again or there will be punishment.”

Through the bile that rose in his throat he continued to play her fool. “My apologies, mistress. I thought you would want to learn that they are rebuilding the village.”

Deirdre’s colorless eyes narrowed. “Is that so? Interesting, Broc. Very interesting.” She started back toward her chamber, dismissing him, when she paused. “A group of Druids has been brought in by Dunmore. Help the others with the interrogation.”

Broc’s heart pounded in his chest and sweat beaded his brow. More Druids? How was she finding them? And how much longer before Anice and her Druids were discovered? “As you wish.”

She paused, and with nary a word, the stones that held James released him. The pale green Warrior dropped to the ground and rubbed his arms and legs where he had been held. He gave a bow to Deirdre, and then stomped out of her chamber.

When Deirdre disappeared into her chamber, Broc turned and woodenly walked out of the room. The last thing he wanted to do was see the Druids tortured and killed, but he had no choice.

Broc turned the corner from the doorway and found Isla in his path. The drough was petite, barely reaching his chest, with long raven locks and ice-blue eyes that seemed to see straight through a man.

He didn’t understand why Deirdre hadn’t killed Isla like the other Druids. Isla rarely spoke and no emotion ever flickered over her face. Her eyes were as dead as Broc’s heart.

“Isla,” Broc said as he started around her.

“Did you see them?”

He paused as her softly spoken words filled the hallway. “See who?”

“The MacLeods.”

“Aye. Deirdre had a message for them.”

“They will come for their brother, Warrior, and the battle will be bloody. Many will die.”

Her whispered words reverberated in his head long after she walked away.