Highland Defiance (The MacLomain Series- Early Years) (9 page)

“Chieftain Bruce knows everything,” James said matter-of-factly.

“Bruce,” she murmured. “Not Adlin.”

James smiled and nodded. “Laird Bruce is kind and good. You need not worry.”

She didn’t miss the way his young voice wobbled when he said it nor the stiffening of his posture. Was he simply saying what he was supposed to? The wind blew up. Fear flooded her veins. Her palms grew sweaty. Should she run in the opposite direction? But where would she ultimately go? She’d been plopped back in Scotland and James had—however unknowing—been the one there to greet her. That must mean something.

“Are you cold then, lass?”

Mildred shook her head and tried not to shiver. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

Another shrug from the boy and he continued. “The castle’s just up yonder.”

“What clan is it you belong to again?”

The boy looked at her as though she’d sprung an extra head.
“The MacLomain clan.”

He seemed quite sure. Yet how was that possible? The land was considerably different here. Colder, harsher, there existed more rock than trees. Wind blew strong through what was quickly becoming a scarce forest until the trees all but vanished and they walked on a barren path over craggy rock.

Inch by inch a castle appeared over the horizon. Thoroughly chilled and underdressed, Mildred could admit the place, though stern, appeared welcoming. Fear was not an emotion she allowed herself as they trudged closer. But what she wouldn’t do to be home. Or even to have Adlin here. A man she’d only just met! Still, she knew she’d feel far safer.

“They see we’re coming.” James nodded at the castle.

Mildred stopped short. They knew alright.

Twenty armed men were riding their way.

Chapter Four

It took everything she had not to turn and run. But what good would it do to turn her back to what came her way? Thunderous, the men slowed and formed a circle around them. All well-muscled and well-armed, they wore the same sort of garb Adlin had, yet their plaids were a different color.

One man trotted his horse forward a little closer, obviously trying to intimidate her. “Who’s the lass, boy?”

James’ eyes grew round and he glanced from Mildred to the man. “Never did get her name, my laird.” His lip quivered. “But I can tell you she’s no faery.”

The men chuckled, all that is except the one who did the questioning. She wouldn’t call him unhandsome. No doubt he’d once been quite glorious. Now, he possessed an unfortunate fierceness. From this angle his hair appeared dirty blond, his deep-set eyes severely dark. Broad shouldered, he blocked out the sun.

Slowly, methodically, his intense eyes roamed over her. Lord, what must he be thinking of her pants? “Give your name, lass. Why are you here?”

Should she tell them she knew Adlin?
No, best to remain vague until she had more facts.
Mildred made to speak but her voice caught. Not good. She cleared her throat, stood tall and kept her gaze locked with his. “Mildred.  I’m lost.”

The men mumbled in a foreign dialect. The man, Bruce she assumed, shook his head sharply and they quieted.  When he swung down from his horse, Mildred locked her legs so she wouldn’t instinctually step back. This was a man she knew she shouldn’t show fear in front of. Not easy though.

Quite tall but not as tall as Adlin, he again looked her up and down. From this proximity she realized that his eyes were not black but a very dark brown. His features were striking but harsh and weather-worn. She sensed that he was in his twenties but looked more like he was in his late thirties, early forties.

“I’ll ask again, why are you here?” he said.

“Because I am lost.”

“Verra lost I’d say.” His eyes shot from her pants to her face. “What do you wear?”

What
did
she wear? What would make sense?
“Traveling clothes.
I’m from the south you see.”

“One from the lowlands
th
—,” said a random man.

Bruce scowled and he stopped mid-sentence. But she’d been given enough information.

Though she couldn’t put the inflection of the Scots in her voice she replied, “Nay, a highland clan.
The MacLomains.”

Mentioning Adlin would be her best course of action after all.

She hoped.

Eyes narrowed slightly, Bruce’s jaw hitched slightly. “The MacLomains you say. And why is it I should believe you?”

Mildred thought fast and hoped she sounded like she knew what she was talking about. “Because you know the way Chieftain Adlin thinks. It would not be beyond him to send a strange woman to soften the blow of his arrival.”

The men chuckled. Bruce’s pupils flared. She was on to something.

Several long moments passed before Bruce spoke again. “Not even your accent is right. Where did MacLomain find you?”

Ah. So he believed she’d been sent by Adlin…which made her truly wonder about Adlin’s reputation. “East Lothian,” she replied automatically. “I am a Broun.”

East Lothian was supposedly where her mother’s side of the family came from. With any luck that’d explain some of why she seemed out of place.

“So you
are
a lowlander,” he grumbled. “Never did see what the MacLomains saw in them.”

Discussion apparently ended, he grunted and swung onto his horse. “We’re off to hunt. See that she gets quarters in the castle.”

With one last, long eyeful of her, Bruce spurred his horse and left, all of his men in tow save two. One swung James up, the other her. Mildred tensed, severely uncomfortable being on the horse with a rugged and somewhat smelly stranger. The castle seemed hungry to welcome her. Square and unforgiving, she realized it sat on a cliff overlooking a raging sea. It seemed she’d somehow found herself at the tip of Scotland. Grinding her jaw she knew without doubt
she
had not found her way here but somehow Adlin had found the way for her. So did that mean her one true love was here?

Daunting thought.

As the horses cantered over the drawbridge she found herself longing not for the company of her siblings but for that of David and Jim. With them here, this would be an adventure. Without them it felt more like she was being imprisoned. For all she knew that’s exactly what Bruce intended for her.

When they dismounted James left without a word. Though she didn’t blame him she wished he’d stuck around. It seemed he was her only potential ally here. The man who had given her the ride nodded toward the castle and started walking. Apparently she was supposed to follow him.

What a place! Like the environment itself the people seemed more abrasive, their faces harder,
eyes
colder. Then again, she could only compare them to the MacLomains who she’d so recently visited. But it’d felt warmer there… cleaner almost. Not that it was dirty here. Everything seemed in order. But this clan didn’t nearly possess the comfort level she’d felt when with Adlin. Why would it though? The chieftain hadn’t escorted her here.

No, he’d all but ordered.

“I’ll take her the rest of the way, lad,” a woman barked.

Iosbail?
Impossible! Yet there she was, hands on hips, expression exasperated. Before Mildred could say a word, Adlin’s sister looked at the man escorting her and said, “You heard me then!”

The big guy who’d been so strictly ordered by Bruce to get her here now almost cowered when confronted with Iosbail. With a brief nod he turned and left. Mildred was about to speak but Iosbail shook her head. “Come on, lassie. Let me show you where ye’ll be sleeping.”

Could this get any stranger? Why was Iosbail here and so familiar with this clan? Guess she’d find out soon enough. It’d be a lie to say she wasn’t slightly more comfortable now knowing Adlin’s sister was here. That she wasn’t alone.

Like the castle, the great hall was extremely different than that of the MacLomain clan. Where the MacLomain’s hall boasted a variety of tapestries ranging from nautical to warring to sensual, this hall screamed war. The artwork was near sinister and borderline evil.

This clan liked to be in charge… or think it was.

Iosbail led her to the second floor then down a long hallway lit by torches. The smell of Brach and seawater filled her nostrils. The air felt oppressive, musky, humid yet chilly. Eventually, they entered a small chamber. With nothing but a cot in the corner and a single wall torch, it felt like she’d truly been ushered into a jail cell. 

The minute they entered the room Mildred confronted Iosbail. “What’s going on?”

“You, it seems,” Iosbail said bluntly before she pointed at the bed. “That’s where you sleep.”

“Really?”
Mildred crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s all you have to say.”

“Glad to see my stable boy, James, found you.” Iosbail sat on the cot and casually braced back on her hands. “Aren’t you glad that I’m here to say anything at all?”

Before Mildred could respond, Iosbail continued, “I am here because I married into this clan. You are here because you soon will.”

Iosbail was married into this clan?
Interesting.
But irrelevant right now.

“So you say.” It took everything Mildred had not to flee now while she could. Would Iosbail stop her?
Hard to tell.
Iosbail didn’t seem that cordial. Then again, she hadn’t been with the MacLomain clan either. Arms still crossed over her chest she continued. “Where’s Adlin. Again, what’s going on? Why am I here?”

Iosbail lay back on the bed and crossed her legs. With a shrug she said, “It’s hard to ever tell where Adlin is. Typically, he’s with his precious clan. What’s going on? I’d think that is obvious, you’re back in time again. I already told you why I was here.”

Mildred banked her irritation and took a deep breath. Iosbail was a far different creature than her brother. Purposely eying Iosbail up and down she asked, “So why did you marry into this clan?”

A small smirk crawled onto Iosbail’s lips then vanished. “Let’s just say I came into this clan from a different angle than Adlin.”

It didn’t surprise her in the least that Iosbail now acted more like a twentieth century female than one born in this era. The woman was devious and manipulative amongst many things. Iosbail stretched and cinched her hands behind her head, eyes somewhat on Mildred. Naturally, she said nothing but left the conversation loose.

Honestly, this wasn’t Mildred’s cup of tea. Nobody in her family acted this way. In fact, the closest personality type to this pre-meditated sort of nonchalance could only ever belong to Jim. And she knew how to deal with that.

Leave.

With a smile and gracious nod she said, “Thanks, Iosbail,” and left the room.

With no real direction, she walked back down the hall. She’d made it all of twenty steps when…

“Brazon.
I see why he likes you.”

Mildred slowed at the sound of Iosbail’s voice but didn’t stop. Why who liked her?
Adlin or Bruce?
Who cared! As she started to walk down the stairs she wondered where she’d go from here. Truth told she’d hoped Iosbail would have stopped her before this. Apparently the woman had too much pride. Halfway down the stairs she noted how near-empty the hall was with scattered clan’s folk here and there. Though a few had turned their heads when she entered minutes before, now they seemed oblivious. Were they that used to strangers?

“Mildred, yer going in the wrong direction.”