Chapter Fourteen

 

As gloaming cast purple light over the golden autumn landscape, Colin and his men rode closer and closer to Rhodie Castle, but three or four miles yet remained in their journey. They had ridden hard all day to make it this far, but they could not push the horses more at this point. They must keep to a slower pace.

Without Kristina by his side, Colin felt a gaping hole inside him. Plus, the dread and anxiety over how he would find his da's health cast bleak darkness over his mind. He could not remember feeling so fearful and devastated. Everything had become deadly serious. If his father could not survive this wound, Colin's world would crash to the ground. And without Kristina as his wife, his life was not worth living anyway. What reason would he have to go on?

His clan.

Even after the hell Neacal had suffered through two years ago, his main reason for continuing on was his clan. He'd committed himself to leading them to the best of his ability.

Colin could do no less. He would look to his friend and foster brother as a mentor.

One of the men shouted, and Colin's horse reared.

"What the devil?" Colin struggled to maintain his seat. He then noticed an arrow protruding from the saddle near his thigh. "Take cover! 'Tis an ambush!"

Why hadn't Colin been paying more attention to their surroundings?

Two more arrows whizzed toward them from the nearby wood, and the men lifted their targes, deflecting them. Colin was unable to see how many men lurked there. Probably not many if only two arrows were being launched at a time.

Regardless, he wasn't taking any chances with his men's lives or the horses. He vaulted from the saddle and quickly drew his horse farther along toward large boulders, then behind them. His men followed.

"Is anyone injured?" While holding the bridle of his spooked horse, Colin looked the men over. All were either still in their saddles and dismounting or already on their feet as they joined him behind the rocks.

"An arrow grazed my arm." Warton leapt from his horse and ripped at his bloody sleeve to see the torn flesh. "Who are these bastards?"

"Likely the same ones who shot my father." Rage burned like a fire in Colin's stomach. "We must capture or dispatch them." Colin checked his horse and found that the arrow's point that had struck his saddle had penetrated the horse's flesh about an inch. It bled, but not too severely. A flesh wound that would heal quickly. He stroked the horse's muzzle to calm him while observing the trees some thirty yards distant.

He yearned to capture or destroy each of the outlaws, but running into the dark wood after them would be suicide. From here, he couldn't see even one man.

"Rusty, see if you can shoot any of them." Colin kept his voice low. "Their archer must have a clear view of us betwixt the trees."

Rusty was one of the best with a bow and arrow, and his eyesight was keen.

Two more arrows darted toward them, missing by several feet. One struck the stones and bounced off, while the other drove into the dirt.

"Cowards!" Colin shouted. "Come out and face us!" He narrowed his eyes, watching the wood. A blur of plaid moved among the bushes at the edge. "There. Do you see him?" Colin pointed. "Shoot him."

"Aye." Rusty nocked the arrow, drew back and propelled it toward the trees. The plaid vanished behind the bushes and shouting followed.

"You got him!" Feeling a small surge of victory, Colin hoped the downed man was the assassin who'd injured his father. Rustling reached his ears. It sounded as if the other outlaws were fleeing through the dried leaves of the forest floor. "The rest are getting away. Capture them!"

The Camerons ran on foot toward the wood, leaving three in charge of the horses.

"You two, disarm and guard the assassin," he told Warton and Ethan, then advanced with the rest of his men, chasing the fleeing murderers through the wood. Their feet crunched over the dried leaves and pine needles. At the back edge of the forest, the land turned grassy. Colin stopped, his gaze searching for fleeing men, but he saw nothing. Where had they disappeared to? Around the bend? Down the hill to the next patch of trees? Not knowing how many they'd be up against, he didn't want to split up his forces more than he had already. He wanted to keep the rest of his men safe. Besides, gloaming would soon turn to night.

"We need to reach Rhodie before dark. Let's see if the man Rusty shot still lives."

As Colin and the others approached, Warton and Ethan stood watching the outlaw lying on the ground. He was attempting to draw the arrow from his thigh, but that could be a fatal mistake, for it could cause him to bleed to death. The man's bow and quiver lay several feet away, as well as his other weapons.

"Who are you and why did you ambush us?" Colin demanded.

"Go to hell, you Cameron bastards!" the downed man growled through gritted teeth, his face contorted in pain.

"Did you tell him our name?" Colin asked Warton.

"Nay. He knew immediately who we are."

"What's your name?"

The man kept his mouth closed, his nostrils flaring, his glare venomous.

"Who do you work for? And what do you have against us?"

"I'll tell you naught. If you're going to kill me, then go ahead and do it!" he roared.

"We're not going to kill you, even though 'tis what you deserve. But you will be a guest in the Rhodie Castle dungeon until you tell me why you and your comrades were trying to kill us."

"I said I'll tell you naught!"

Likely, the man would confess what he knew in a day or two, if he lived. Colin would send the healer into the dungeon to remove the arrow and medicate his wound. "Did you or one of your clansmen shoot Chief Cameron?"

The man narrowed his eyes but kept his mouth shut. Of course they had been the culprits. Although Colin wanted to smash his fist against the man's face, he kept his impulses under control.

"Cut the arrow shaft shorter," Colin told Warton. "Have the men bind his hands and feet, then load him onto a horse. We must reach Rhodie before dark." Otherwise, they would be too vulnerable out here in the darkness. The outlaws could return.

 

***

 

When Colin and the rest of the Camerons rode into the torchlit bailey at Rhodie Castle a few minutes after dark, his brother Bryce, younger by two years, was there to greet him.

"Bryce, how is Da?" Colin swung down from his horse.

"Not good." His brown eyes grim, Bryce gave Colin a warrior handshake. "I'm glad you came quickly."

Colin nodded. "I must go see Da. Then we'll talk. In the meantime, can you oversee the men escorting the prisoner to the dungeon and ask Deidra to see to his arrow wound?"

Bryce nodded and glanced at the men unloading the injured man. "How did you end up with a prisoner?"

"Bastard was shooting at us. He may very well be the one who shot Da."

"What?" Bryce growled.

"Aye. Rusty and Warton will fill you in on what happened."

"Damnation." Bryce stormed off in their direction while Colin climbed the steps toward the great hall, his stomach knotting. After nodding a greeting to the solemn-faced clansmen seated at the tables, he ascended another flight to the laird's chamber. He pushed the old carved oak door open and found only his mother and father inside the bleak, candlelit room.

"Oh, Colin." His mother shot up from the chair and embraced him, tears streaming from her reddened eyes. "I'm so glad you've come."

"How is he, Ma?" He held her tightly while she wept. Though his heart was breaking, he forced himself to be strong. Looking over her shoulder, he saw that his da lay unmoving on the bed. His face was very pale above his gray beard. Saints! To see him in this condition was like a strike to his own vitals.

"I'm so afraid," his mother whispered, pulling back and turning to look at his da. "I've never seen him so ill before. He has a fever, and Deidra says his wound festers terribly."

"Is there naught she can do to help?" Surely, there had to be something that could save his father's life.

"She removed the arrowhead, stitched the wound and applied a poultice. You ken she is the best healer in these parts, but 'tis a deep wound."

"Mayhap the poultice will help in a day or two." Colin wished more than anything that he could relieve his mother's worries, but the same hopeless fear latched sickeningly onto his stomach.

"He does not respond. 'Tis as if he is in a deep, dreamless sleep."

Fearing this was indeed the end of the road for his father, Colin kissed the top of his mother's head, her tawny hair shot through with a few strands of gray. "We will pray."

"Aye. 'Tis all we can do."

He sat down on a chair by his father's bedside and leaned forward. "Da, can you hear me?"

No response. Da's face appeared far too ashen, but his breathing was deep and even.

"We're going to figure out who did this," Colin vowed.

 

***

 

A half hour later, Colin met his brother entering the great hall.

"The whoreson won't speak a word," Bryce growled.

"I figured as much."

"Based on what Warton and Rusty said, sounds like the same band of miscreants who shot Da from the wood nearby."

"I agree."

"Which clan could they be from? We've had no intense conflicts for a few years."

"I thought hard on it the whole way here. I cannot think of anyone who hated Da enough to assassinate him. What would they have to gain by it?"

Bryce shook his head. "Several of us had a meeting on it earlier. We came up with naught."

Colin turned, spying the healer on the other side of the great hall. "Did Deidra pay a visit to the prisoner yet?"

"Nay, she was busy." Bryce walked with him toward her.

"Deidra, what can you tell me about Da's injury?"

The middle-aged woman with gray hair shook her head, looking dejected. "'Tis a bad one, Colin. The arrow went through the lower side of his gut. I may be a good healer, but I'm nay that good. I did the best I could on him, but I'm thinking even an Edinburgh physician couldn't heal him. It'll take a miracle."

Dread weighed heavily upon Colin's heart. He couldn't imagine life without his da. "Is he suffering?"

"He does nay seem to be in any pain, but who can know, in truth? I wish I could do more. I'd best go check on him again."

"When you finish with him, can you come to the dungeon? We brought in a prisoner who has an arrow in his leg. He may very well be the man who shot Da."

"And you wish me to heal such an evil man?" she snapped, her gaze sharp as a spear.

The woman's vehemence rendered Colin speechless for a moment. "Aye, we must question him and find out which clan he's from. Several men in his party fled. We need to stop them before they attack again."

"I'll think on it." She stormed away and up the stairs.

Colin could well understand Deidra's anger, and he was tempted to feel the same way himself, but he wasn't barbaric enough to withhold the help of a healer from anyone, even from a man who'd tried to kill his father. He believed in upholding the law. If the archer recovered, he could be turned over to the authorities. But first, Colin had to find out what the man knew.

He and Bryce strode outside to the bailey, then descended the steps into the dungeon.

Lying on the floor, the man writhed and groaned in pain.

Colin stopped before the cell door. "We've asked the healer to come down and help you."

"I want naught to do with a healer!" the man shouted.

"Which clan are you from?"

"Go to hell!"

Ignoring him, Colin asked, "Why did you shoot at us? What grudge do you hold against the Camerons?"

Eyes closed, the man lay still, not uttering another word.

"Damnation. I think he passed out," Colin muttered.

"Hope he doesn't die before we get a name from him," Bryce said.

 

***

 

Tears burning her eyes, Kristina lay in bed awake long after everyone else was asleep. The castle was quiet. What a mess she'd made of her life. She could not get Colin out of her head or her heart. She missed him sorely and prayed his father would recover from the wound.

What a daft ninny she'd been to reject Colin's marriage proposal, but she'd had no other choice. Because she loved him beyond anyone and anything, she could not saddle him with a useless wife. How she wished she was capable of scaling mountains and doing things beyond what the average woman could do. Why had her sight been taken away? What had she done to deserve this punishment? She could not comprehend why some people had easy lives, while others were kicked down at every turn.

Feeling sorry for herself, she cried herself to sleep and dreamed.

"What do you truly want, my child?" The whisper sounded like her mother's voice.

"Ma?" she asked, opening her eyes within the dream.

Her mother stood beside the bed and a bright golden light emanated from her, as well as from behind her, as if the sun were shining in the bedchamber window. Kristina loved how she was always able to see within her dreams.

"Are you truly here, Ma?"

"Aye. Whatever you want, Kristina, just ask God and your angels for it and believe. You do not need to suffer any longer."

"Angels?" Kristina frowned, confused. "I did not know I had angels."

"Of course, sweeting. Everyone has guardian angels for help and protection."

"But… what I want is impossible. I want to spend my life with Colin and be a good wife to him. I cannot do that without my sight."

"Nothing is impossible. Ask God's angels to lift your prayer for healing your eyes to heaven. And then believe you have already received this."

"But that would be…"

"A miracle?"

"Aye."

"Miracles happen every day, but you must believe with such a strong knowing that it is no surprise to you when your prayer is answered." Her mother smiled. "You have a strong and beautiful spirit, Kristina, and Colin is your soulmate."

Gasping, Kristina woke up instantly to the blackness. She sat up, disappointed that the eyesight she'd had in the dream was gone. Her mother's image had been blindingly bright and warm in the dream. So real.

"Ma?"

Silence filled the chilly room. Was her ma's spirit still with her? Were her guardian angels by her side as her mother had said? She could not feel them.

And what her mother had said about Colin being her soulmate… good heavens! Could it be true? How could she be a soulmate and wife to such an exceptional man? She did not believe she had it in her. How could she possibly rise to such a lofty position?

She felt lonelier than ever before. Cold and alone.

Her mother's spirit had visited her in the dream. She had no doubt of it. 'Twas too real to be only a dream.

She lay back down, turned to her side and thought about what her mother had said about angels and asking them for help.

"Angels, are you there?" she whispered.

After a few moments, her loneliness drifted away and she felt cocooned in a warm, loving embrace. Could there be real angels holding her now, or was she only imagining it? Either way, she felt better… calmer, not so afraid. No longer alone. Her mind drifted into daydreams where she imagined herself with Colin, and for the first time she could see him in this fantasy. He was gorgeous, with tawny hair and eyes the color of silvery gray clouds.

Colin, I love you. And more than anything, I want to be a good wife to you.

He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. The fantasy was so vivid, she even felt his breath upon her skin.

"This is what I want, God… angels… anyone who is listening," she whispered. "To spend my life with Colin and see his face. Thank you for hearing my prayer."

As she floated toward sleep, she visualized herself walking with Colin, hand in hand, up a beautiful, heather-covered hill. Everything around her was so bright and vivid—the purple heather, the green grass, the blue sky reflecting off the loch. But she could hardly take her eyes off Colin's wonderful smile to view the stunning scenery. 'Twould be truly magnificent to have her sight back, for then she would have a fulfilling life with Colin. She could be his helper and mate. Her dreams would come true. She knew they would.

Upon waking the next morn, Kristina immediately remembered her dreams and her fantasies as if she had lived them during the night. It had been so grand having her sight back in the dreams. But now reality struck. Her vision was not miraculously restored. All was darkness around her. A moment of disappointment sank into her.

Do not lose faith, my child.

The words had been inside her head, like a thought. But not her thought. Again, it was like hearing her mother's voice. Saints! Strange things were happening. She needed to speak to Maili. She had the gift of second sight. Mayhap she could explain what Kristina's unusual dreams and the voice in her head had meant. Was this normal or was she losing her sanity?

 

***

 

After dressing and breaking her fast in her room, Kristina sent the maid to find Maili and ask if she could speak with her. A short time later, a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," Kristina called, looking forward to talking to her new friend.

The door opened and closed.

"A good morn to you," Maili said in a bright and cheerful tone. "The maid said you wanted to talk."

"Aye. Good morn. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"Of course. Anytime. I value your friendship. How are you feeling?" The chair by the hearth squeaked as Maili sat down.

Kristina knew what she meant—how did she feel since Colin had left? Miserable. But she was sidestepping that topic for the time being. "I'm not sure."

"What do you mean?" Maili's voice held much concern.

"You have second sight, do you not?"

"Um, aye," Maili said tentatively.

"I had a dream last night, and I'm hoping you can help me figure out what it means."

"Of course." She sounded far more relaxed now. "I will try. I often have dreams in which I see something that is happening at a distance or in the future."

"My mother passed many years ago when I was a child, but I saw her clearly in my dream, as if she were really here. She was surrounded by a golden light, and she relayed a message about angels." Kristina explained what her mother had said about asking angels for help.

"It sounds like a visitation dream," Maili said. "Angels and spirits are real, even though we normally cannot see or touch them."

"Do you think angels could heal my eyes so that I might regain my sight?"

"'Tis possible. Angels are extensions of God, and they do God's work. This includes healing and many miracles."

"Although I've dreamed of my mother before, and heard her speak to me, this dream was so real and detailed, 'twas unsettling."

"I'm certain it was. Maybe your mother's spirit delivered the message from above so you wouldn't be afraid. And now you can communicate directly with your guardian angels."

Kristina nodded, though she was still unsure if angels were truly beside her. "I also dreamed what Colin looks like. I have never seen him with my eyes, so I don't know if the image was right. But if it was, does that mean I'm developing second sight?"

"I don't know. Mayhap. I only know of my own experiences. Either way, do not be afraid."

A bright streak of light, like lightning, flashed across Kristina's black field of vision.