Redeeming Vows (11 page)

Dinner was a quiet and swift affair. Although Liz pleaded hunger before Grainna’s brief appearance, she couldn’t consume all that much. The nervous twist in her stomach and the worry of the witch’s return was the cause.

Liz watched as the women settled into their blankets. Fin perched beside a trunk and laid his sword across his lap.

Myra extinguished the last of the burning candles and cast the space into darkness. Before long the deep, even breaths of the family filled the silence. A fire still crackled outside the tent where the knights who kept watch could keep warm and alert.

Liz forced herself to close her eyes and try to sleep. When she did, all she could see was Grainna’s floating image hovering above her nephew. She rolled onto her side, and tried counting backwards in her head. Once she reached sixty her mind wandered to images of the nineteen sixties, tie-dyed shirts, and Woodstock. Not that she’d lived in those times, but the heavily documented history made it easy to picture living in them. Grainna would have lived in the sixties. According to the Ancients and legend, Grainna had lived in modern times for nearly seventy years. The witch probably loved all the war and chaos she’d witnessed in those times.

Fin shifted, catching Liz’s attention. “Can’t sleep?” he whispered in the dark.

“No.” And trying to wasn’t helping. Liz gave up and dragged a blanket over to where Fin sat.

“You should try and sleep.”

“I have been for over what, an hour now? It isn’t 87

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working. I might as well help you stay awake.” She sat beside him, using the trunk as a backrest but was careful to keep herself from touching him.

“I won’t fall asleep.”

“I’m sure you won’t mean to.” He stiffened by her side. Even though she couldn’t make out his face, she knew she’d insulted him. “That didn’t come out right.”

“Most of what comes from your mouth doesn’t come out right.”

Liz muffled a laugh. She’d have been insulted if what he said wasn’t true. “I might have to make you pay for that remark,” she managed.

“I’m sure you will.”

Well good, at least he knew where he stood.

“Why didn’t you protest when Duncan suggested a watch in here?” he asked.

“I’m stubborn, not stupid.” Liz glanced up at his shadow. His face angled toward hers.

“No one could accuse you of stupidity.”

It was as close to a compliment as Fin had come in a long time. A pool of warmth spread over her as if he’d just praised her. Perhaps talking with him in the night wasn’t such a wise decision. Everyone in the tent slept and the two of them sat under hushed whispers like two lovers engaging in a little pillow talk before sleep could claim them. Not that she’d had much experience with pillow talk. The lovers she’d taken over the years never amounted to that many and with a son to raise, he didn’t afford her the time to spend long nights and easy mornings.

“What has captured your attention?” Fin’s soothing voice asked as if he truly wanted to know.

There was no way in hell she was going to reveal her true thoughts. Slipping Fin into the image of a man in her bed came to easily lately. Having him discover that wouldn’t bode well for his inflated ego, or her resolve to keep her distance from him.

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Liz didn’t answer his question, instead she asked her own. “Do you think Grainna will come back?”

For a moment, Liz thought she saw Fin smile in the dark before his head turned toward the small bed holding Briac. “We have to assume she didn’t get what she came for. She will be back.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.”

“We need to be prepared for her return.”

“How can we be?”

“We’ve been honing our skills.”

Liz nodded toward her son. “And discovering new ones.”

“And we’ve learned her strategies or some of them anyway.”

“Which ones?” She hadn’t thought they’d learned much in the way of Grainna’s tactics.

“She uses the weakest link to draw us in. She kidnapped Simon and attempted something tonight with Briac.”

“Which means she might try with Amber or Cian.” She hadn’t thought of that.

“Or any of you women. Don’t forget about Tara’s abduction.”

“You’re right.” Liz would love to counter him, but couldn’t. She realized her shoulder had nestled up against his during their conversation. Pulling away would make her look foolish. And in truth, she didn’t want to. Not yet anyway.

“Does it hurt to say that?”

“To say what?”

“That I’m right?” he chuckled.

Quiet laughter shook her frame and the terror Grainna had placed in her earlier that evening finally started to drift away. “It pains me deeply.

And if you go around telling anyone I said that, I’ll deny it to my death,” she joked.

“I’m sure you will.”

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Their laugher ebbed and silence followed, not an awkward quiet, but a peaceful one.

Fin reached up and drew her head to his shoulder. Once there, Liz felt her eyes start to drift closed. She should move back to her bed, but couldn’t find the strength.

Liz felt the pad of his thumb stroke her cheek.

“Sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll watch over you.”

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“My ass is so sore from sitting on this horse I could scream. Somewhere in my sick, twisted mind, I looked forward to getting away from the keep. Now at least I’ll know what I’m talking about when someone suggests a visit to the coast.” Tara’s complaints matched Liz’s thoughts exactly. They’d been riding for four days, four long, tiring days. It didn’t help that sleep didn’t come easy with the threat of Grainna hanging in the air. She hadn’t come back, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time before she did.

“I could use a bath,” Liz added her own complaints.

“Duncan thinks we’ll be camping by a river tonight. We can bathe there.”

The thought of clean water, even cold, frigid water brought a smile to her face. “Maybe Duncan could stand upstream and heat the water.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Like no one would notice that.”

Still, the thought had merit. From her sister’s expression, Liz knew Tara considered how her husband’s gift might aide her in a warm bath.

Up ahead, Simon rode alongside Cian. Lizzy’s son appeared asleep in the saddle, a term she’d only heard of in old westerns until she’d nodded off herself after the first night on the road
.
Now she knew a person could actually sleep while riding a horse. Not a peaceful sleep, but a few minutes of shut-eye helped break up the day and rejuvenated 91

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what the night neglected.

It was crazy how she no longer stressed when her son rode a horse or lifted the sword he had strapped to his waist. And to think she balked at a pocketknife back when they’d lived in California.

Simon’s head jerked up, as though he’d awakened suddenly. His gaze shifted above him where Ian’s falcon soared. Even from her distance, Liz noticed Simon’s shoulders stiffen.

He turned in his seat and met her eyes over the riders separating them.

Mom,
his voice sounded in her head.
Someone’s
coming up ahead.

Just then, the falcon squawked. Ian’s eyes shot to his flying weapon.

Grainna?

I don’t know.

Liz watched as Simon attempted to get inside the falcon’s head and see through the bird’s eyes.

What do you see?
she quizzed him.

Riders, oh geeze. I can’t hold on. They have
swords like us. Lots of men.

“Dammit.”

“What’s wrong?” Tara asked, unaware of her silent conversation with Simon.

Liz glanced over her shoulder, noticed Gregor riding up alongside them, and thought better of voicing her concerns. “I, ah, need to use the little girl’s room.”

“Again? We stopped less than an hour ago.”

Gregor rode ahead, unconcerned with their conversation.

“Tell Duncan to stop us,” Liz told Tara in a hushed whisper. “Simon sees people ahead.”

Tara’s eyes grew large, her eyes focused toward the beginning of the caravan. After a few silent moments, Duncan glanced over his shoulder then up again to the falcon flying. Duncan said something to 92

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Fin, who quickly rounded his horse and drew up beside Liz and Tara.

“How are ye faring?” he said in a voice loud enough for the surrounding men to hear them.

Tara took the lead and cradled an arm around Briac’s sleeping frame. “I need to change my son, Finlay. Can we stop for a short time so I can see to his needs?”

Liz jumped in to be sure they had more than a few minutes to assess what lay ahead. “I could use a break, seems the sun is wearing on me.” As if that were possible. The sun barely peeked beyond the clouds and the mist had hardly lifted from the land since they woke. Still, Fin understood and signaled for the caravan to stop.

Within seconds, Simon stood beside his horse, Ian drew up alongside him, and both spoke with their heads close together. Tara ducked into the wagon with the ruse of changing her son. Several knights took the opportunity to dismount and see to their needs.

“Someone is coming,” Simon told Ian.

“What color do you see on their flags?”

Simon shook his head. “I can’t tell.”

“How many men? Do you see women?” Fin asked.

“I think so. There’s a lot of riders.”

Simon shot his gaze back and forth between Ian and Fin, his feet shuffled beneath him. “I can see better for myself. When I look through the falcon the colors aren’t as clear.”

Liz stepped forward. “That could be dangerous.”

Fin was shaking his head, too.

“I’ll just reach the top of the trees to see if they are a traveling party like us or…something else.”

Ian let a rare smile slip from his lips. His hand clasped Simon’s shoulder. “You would be in far more danger to be in the middle of a battle.”

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Liz tilted her head back and noted the height of the trees. Her stomach started to turn. Simon had changed into a bird twice since the day at the river.

Each time he shifted back into his human form without incident, but she still wasn’t ready to have her son scouting for this army of medieval men.

“I’ll only go as high as that tree,” Simon said while pointing to a nearby cluster of birch trees.

They stood on the edge of a rise of hills that would give him a decent view of the party coming their way. Liz narrowed her gaze to Ian who seemed to be waiting for her approval. Surprisingly, Fin held his tongue, his eyes traveled to the trees and beyond.

The decision was hers. Something she’d never truly been given since arriving in Scotland. Her heart flipped in her chest and squeezed with uncertainty.

“Okay,” she breathed her consent. “But you and I have to talk the entire time.” Liz tapped the side of her head several times.

Simon squared his shoulders and nodded to her once.

“I’ll escort him into the brush for the change,”

Fin said.

“Cian?” Ian called his son over. “Go with them and keep watch.”

Cian turned on his heel and followed.

Liz watched the backs of her son, Fin and Cian as they disappeared into the thick of the surrounding forest.

Ian patted Liz on her back and glanced around him. Some of the men seemed anxious to continue their journey. More than a few watched the trio walking away from the group. “I’ll send Lora to your side and divert the men.”

Ian walked away, ushering orders to his men.

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Lora, oblivious of the problem.

Lora glanced over her shoulder. “Ian suggests we take the time to see to our needs.” With a dart of her head, Lora motioned toward the trees, a short distance away from where Simon and the others slipped. Alone, they could talk easily and Liz could concentrate on Simon’s inside voice without worry.

“Good idea.”

Walking with purpose, Liz led the women to a hidden section of trees where the MacCoinnich caravan would think the women in need of relieving their bladders. Lora filled Myra in with what was happening.

I’m ready, Mom,
Simon spoke in her head.

Liz picked up her skirt and walked faster.
Are
you sure about this Simon? You don’t have to do this.

I’m sure.

The women ducked into the shade of the trees and away from prying eyes.

Be careful,
Liz told her son.

“Can you hear him?” Lora asked.

Liz nodded, waiting for her son’s voice to reach her ears again.

I’m a bird,
Simon chanted. His thoughts flowed into her head like water from a faucet.
A big strong
winged bird… Ah, yes.

He’d changed. Liz didn’t even need to glance to the sky to know her son soared above them. His ease into the change morphed faster this time. Easier.

I’m up. Can you see me?

“He’s in the air,” Liz told Lora who she knew spoke to Ian in her head. Glancing at the sky, Liz searched for her son. The thickness of the trees made it difficult to see him.

Where are you?
he asked.

Don’t worry about me. What do you see?

Hold on.

Liz held her breath, waiting for his next words.

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Green. The flag they carry is green with white
edging.

“The flag is green-and-white,” she relayed to Lora.

“Are there women?” Myra asked.

Are there women with them?

Yes, three… No, make that four. They have a
wagon like us.

What about Grainna? Is she there?

Two seconds passed then three.
No. No sign of
her.
Liz told Lora what Simon saw. Instantly, Myra and Lora smiled and relaxed their stance.

“A traveling party. Probably en route to the Lancaster wedding.”

“MacTavish has a green coat of arms,” Myra said to her mother.

“Friend or foe?”

“Ally.”