Chapter Fifteen

 

Kristina gasped and covered her eyes with both hands as tears welled. Had that burst of light been real or in her imagination only?

"What is it?" Maili asked urgently.

Kristina lowered her hands, blinking away the burning tears, but the light was gone. Only darkness surrounded her again. "A brief flash of light."

"In truth? Maybe 'tis a sign." Maili moved to the bed beside her. "Let me see if I pick up anything for you." After holding both her hands for a few seconds, Maili said, with a smile in her voice, "Oh, you and Colin share a magnificent and special love."

Kristina's whole body flushed as conflicting emotions swirled within her—joy for the love but sadness because she could not grasp hold of it.

"You ken this, do you not?" Maili released her hands.

Kristina nodded, blinking back tears.

"Why do you cry?"

"I want my eyesight back more than anything, for then I could…" She snapped her mouth closed. Even though Maili was a new friend, mayhap Kristina was saying too much. Did she really want everyone to know the situation with her and Colin?

"Aye, go on," Maili urged.

"Anna knows this, but no one else. Do you promise to keep it a secret?"

"Of course. I consider you a sister also, just as I do Anna."

"I appreciate that." Kristina blotted at the renewed tears that threatened because of Maili's kindness. "Well, the truth is… Colin asked me to marry him—"

Maili gasped, then giggled. "Oh, that's wonderful."

Kristina held up her hand. "I have not finished. 'Twould be my fondest wish to marry him, but I refuse to do so without my sight."

 

***

 

On horseback, Colin, Bryce and ten of their clansmen followed the tracking dog, a small terrier. The dog took a meandering path through the leaves and pine needles, his nose to the ground. Colin had cut off a piece of the prisoner's doublet sleeve for the dog to sniff occasionally. But there was a good chance it wouldn't work, for the other men in the gang might not smell like the archer. He hoped their scents were somewhat alike since they were accomplices. Aside from that, it had rained the previous night, which had likely destroyed any scent left on the leaves or ground.

Although Colin had spent several hours by his father's bedside the night before, he could not sit still during the day. All the waiting and wondering drove him mad. Besides, he had to find the bastards responsible.

Much as he would love to capture the group of outlaws, especially their leader, even this victory would not help his father recover. Only God could help him now.

This morn, Da had shown no improvement, nor did he appear to be any worse. Deidra continued to apply the poultices and do all she could for him.

Once Colin had fully explained to the healer that if the injured archer died, they might never find the man behind his father's ambush, she had agreed to help him. She'd removed the arrow from his thigh, stitched him up and applied a poultice. Her helper had given him a cup of tea to ease the pain and help him sleep. But the man had been out of his mind with fever this morn. His recovery was uncertain. Even during his moments of awareness, he had not revealed any names or information that would help Colin find the rest of the outlaws.

Now, Colin observed the gray terrier as it trotted through the wood. Something shining brightly on the ground in a small patch of sunlight caught Colin's attention.

"What is that?" After riding closer, he leapt down from his horse and picked up the gleaming object—a golden earring, the sort that dangled, coin shaped with an embossed flower and a small red stone in the center. Kristina's earring!

"Saints!" he hissed.

"What is it?" Bryce dismounted and moved closer to see what lay in his palm.

"I think this is Lady Kristina's earring. Damnation! That means…" Colin's chest felt crushed of a sudden. "Red Holme." He'd stolen Kristina's earrings from the pouch.

Cursing, Colin shoved his hand through his mussed hair and stared toward the heavens, feeling as if a spear had gutted him. "Red Holme shot Da."

Colin glanced around the wood, seeing no one, then muttered a curse. Why had he not sent a missive to his father warning him Holme—or rather MacKillican—was back? He had not considered that the bastard would come to Rhodie. Colin had assumed he would lurk at Bearach and continue trying to kill him or to capture Kristina again.

"Red Holme?" Bryce frowned. "Who's that?"

"'Tis a name he invented. He is a MacKillican."

"Hell. I remember that name," Bryce growled. "The traitors to the crown who held Rhodie years ago."

"Aye, you were a lad, too young to fight in the battle. Red is the son of the last MacKillican chief. A few weeks ago, he was at Bearach, fighting on the side of a man named Blackburn MacCromar. When Red Holme saw me, he recognized me from the battle over ten years ago. He tried to kill me but ended up fleeing here to take his revenge and rage out on Da by shooting him like a coward from the bush."

"Saints," Bryce hissed.

Colin hadn't recognized the archer. He didn't think he was one they'd fought in the cave near Bearach. If Holme had recruited him along the way, he could have several more men than the two he'd left the Moidart area with.

"The archer in the dungeon is naught but a pawn, someone he enlisted recently. I have to get this bastard," Colin said through clenched teeth.

 

***

 

Wearing a black cloak and perched atop a cliff in the wood a mile or two from Rhodie Castle, Red Holme watched the search party below. It consisted of a dozen men, headed by none other than Colin Cameron himself. How he hated the thieving whoreson. Holme narrowed his eyes, his muscles tensing.

He hoped MacAlpin, the archer, hadn't revealed his identity. When MacAlpin had signed on, he'd sworn to never reveal Red Holme's identity, nor his own, if captured. The man had been the son of his father's head archer, another man dead now because of Colin's father.

Holme had been lucky to find MacAlpin living in a village a few miles away from this area. The man had wanted a way to escape the life of menial labor he'd been doing for the past few years.

The Camerons had gotten a lucky shot when their arrow had struck MacAlpin. Holme had hated to abandon him, but there had been no other choice. His followers well knew it was every man for himself. Holme wasn't going to risk losing his opportunity for revenge just to save MacAlpin's life.

All of these Camerons had to be eliminated. Every last one.

At the moment, Holme only had four men—Scroggie, Dobson, and two more from the disbursed MacKillican clan he'd found in the same village where he'd run into MacAlpin. He'd hired them using the money from the sale of one of Kristina's earrings. Alas, he had lost the other one, but no matter. What he couldn't buy he would steal.

The Camerons were following a small shaggy dog that sniffed the ground. Fortunately for Holme, he was downwind and far above them.

He silently lifted his bow from the ground. Should he shoot Colin Cameron now and be done with it? Or wait and kill several dozen of his clansmen along with him? Craving revenge, he ground his teeth but forced himself not to move. Victory would be sweeter when he could watch them all fall.

Where was Lady Kristina? He had not seen her traveling with the Camerons. He'd made sure before the last ambush. He'd been certain Colin was so besotted with her he would marry her, but… maybe she hadn't survived that last strike to the face Holme had given her.

If she was dead, she deserved it!

Although he tried to force himself to believe that and to be angry with her… something gnawed in his gut. What was it? Regret? Deep down, he hoped she still lived. Strangely enough, he liked the prickly, disfigured witch. She retained a beauty and strength he admired. She reminded him of himself—half normal and half damaged. A survivor despite all odds.

But he would likely never see her again. Revenge against the Camerons was far more important than having a lass beneath him. He was willing to give up his life to gain the revenge he'd craved for a decade but had been too afraid to pursue. Fear no longer ruled his life. His father, God rest his soul, would finally be proud of him. But Holme didn't think he would have to give up his life, in truth, for he had a plan.

Having grown up in Rhodie Castle, he knew every nook, cranny, secret passage and escape route. Upon viewing the castle from a short distance away, he saw that the Camerons had made additions in the past decade, but the main keep appeared the same. Now he simply had to bide his time and wait for the perfect opportunity to slip inside.

Holme grinned, imagining all the Camerons screaming and running for their lives. To his way of thinking, Colin and his father deserved every pain they received, as did the rest of the clan. And he planned to unleash a wrath upon them such as they had never imagined.

 

***

 

At Bearach Castle, Kristina sat at the high table during supper, eating and listening to the musicians while Anna and Neacal sat nearby, conversing quietly. On her other side, Maili and her husband, Shamus, also talked. She missed Colin all the time, but especially at times like this when each of the others had a loving companion but Kristina did not. Every day she missed Colin more than the day before… and more than she had thought possible. She'd believed it would get easier with time, but the opposite was true. And it had only been five days.

A messenger had arrived the day before with a missive from Colin, saying his father still lived but was critically ill with fever. And they had not caught the assassin. She prayed his father would improve soon.

In that moment, all sound faded away, for Kristina noticed something with another of her senses… her vision. It almost seemed that she could see the flame of a candle to her right. She blinked, pressed her eyes closed, then opened them again. Aye… her heartbeat sped up with excitement, for she could see the dim flickering flame of what had to be a candle. Tears filled her eyes, and she knew not what to do. She feared the image would fade away if she moved. What if it was only temporary?

She turned her head toward the left and saw the more distant impression of another flame burning there.

A pale, blurry form moved across in front of the high table—a servant refilling her wine goblet.

"I thank you," she murmured to the servant, and then burst into tears of gratitude for her returning sight.

Thanks be to God and his angels.

"Good heavens, Kristina, are you well?" Anna placed an arm around her shoulders.

On her other side, Maili also embraced her. "What has happened?" she whispered.

Kristina shook her head. She did not want to tell them here and now. "Can one of you help me to my room?"

"Of course." Anna stood.

"I'll come too." Maili took her arm and helped her down from the dais.

Holding her hand, Anna led her up the narrow turnpike stairs. Every time Kristina saw a faint movement or a blurry corner or object, renewed tears of joy filled her eyes.

Once in her chamber, Maili closed the door behind them.

"What caused you to cry?" Anna asked.

Kristina burst into tears… nay, laughter. Laughter and tears at the same time.

"Good heavens." Anna helped her to the chair so she could sit.

"Are you laughing?" Maili asked, sounding bemused.

Kristina nodded. "You will not believe this. I can see!"

"What!" Anna gasped.

"In truth? When did this happen?"

"At supper, I started seeing the candle flame, very dimly at first. And then I saw the blurry form of the servant's pale clothing."

"Oh, 'tis a miracle!" Anna embraced her. "Thanks be to God."

Maili knelt before her. "Can you see me?" She moved her hand from right to left.

"Aye. I see your hand moving."

"This is astonishing. Oh, I'm so happy, Kristina!"

"Do you think my vision will keep improving?"

"I believe it will," Anna assured her.

"Indeed. Remember your dream?" Maili asked. "You must have been talking to your angels."

"I did." Kristina told Anna about the dream in which she had talked to their mother. "That wasn't the first one. I've had a few where Ma told me things in dreams."

"'Tis amazing. She has not visited my dreams. Although John has. My late husband," Anna added for Maili's benefit. "Shall I go get Tavia and have her examine you?"

"If she isn't busy."

"I'll be right back." Anna left the room.

Once the healer had examined Kristina, she said, "I have seen sight return one other time. Could be a miracle or it could be that last blow to the head knocked something back into place for you. I don't ken the how of it. Only the Lord does. Either way, 'tis a wonderful blessing."

"Aye, indeed," Kristina said. "And I'm so thankful."

After Tavia left, Anna said, "Can I tell Neacal?"

"Could you wait? I want to be sure 'tis permanent."

"Aye, but 'twill be hard to keep it from him. And I'm certain it is permanent. It makes sense in a way. A head injury caused your blindness, so 'tis reasonable to think a head injury could also cure your blindness. Oh, you must tell Colin! Surely you will reconsider marrying him now."

"I know not if he will have me, after my rejection. He may never forgive me."

 

***

 

"Who is this Lady Kristina you spoke of earlier? The one whose earrings Holme had stolen?" Bryce asked while they ate a quick supper in the great hall. Though Colin had little appetite, he forced himself to eat the venison stew and bread.

Hearing Kristina's name was like a kick to the gut. He'd just been thinking about her, as he did at least a hundred times per day, remembering the joyful times they'd shared.

"She is Neacal's new wife's sister. Blackburn and Holme had taken her hostage in Stirling and brought her to Bearach to try to force Anna to come with them. With the help of our clansmen, I snatched her from Holme. She is blind and scarred from Blackburn's severe abuse two years ago." Colin relayed the rest of the story as briefly as possible, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

"Poor lass. I'm glad you were able to save her life."

"Aye. She's a strong and remarkable lady." If only she'd wanted to spend her life with him. If only she would've let him prove that her blindness didn't matter. She was so precious to him. Having her by his side right now, during this difficult time, would've made a world of difference.

"Is she beautiful?" Bryce asked.

"Aye," Colin answered without thought.

"I suspected as much."

Colin tensed, wishing he'd kept that last observation to himself, then scowled at his brother. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Bryce lifted a brow. "I have a gut feeling the lass means more to you than you're letting on."

Colin glanced away. 'Twas true, but he was not ready to reveal all to his brother. Everything inside him was too raw and painful to talk about. If he didn't keep it all buttoned up tight inside, he was afraid he would disintegrate.

"I don't wish to speak of it." Feeling annoyed, Colin shoved back from the table and stepped down from the dais. He strode across the great hall and out into the light drizzle at gloaming, headed toward the dungeon. He had to focus on something other than Kristina. Finding Red Holme was the only thing he could control right now. And no matter how difficult a task it was, he had to accomplish it.

Of course, he loved his brother and trusted him, but now was not the right time to speak of Kristina. He'd wanted to tell his father about her before anyone else and ask his advice, but that was not possible.

After descending the steps, he let his eyes adjust to the gloom and torchlight of the dungeon. Upon his bedroll, the archer shifted and grimaced. Hearing footsteps, Colin glanced around to find Bryce coming down the steps.

They both watched the archer for a long moment. "Are you awake?" Colin asked.

"I curse the very name of Cameron." The archer turned his head and glowered at him.

"The curse will be mirrored back to you," Colin said, forcing himself to remain calm. "I know Red Holme is behind both ambushes. And his real name is MacKillican."

The man's eyes widened briefly, but Colin saw it.

"Red Holme shot my father! Did he not?" Colin demanded. "Or was it you?"

"You're all bloody thieves," the archer growled low.

"Where is Holme now?"

"How would I know? I've been in here for days!"

Rage and desperation clawing at his soul, Colin grabbed hold of the iron bars and shouted, "Where has he been staying? You will answer if you want to make it out of here alive!"

"Go ahead and kill me now, you whoreson!" the man roared.

Colin ground his teeth, sore tempted to give the man what he asked for. He felt exhausted of a sudden, completely drained. He could not remember ever feeling so defeated and frustrated. He hung his head. He could not think of all the challenges and disappointments facing him now, or he would never crawl out of this dark abyss.

"Come." Bryce laid a hand on his shoulder. "Get some rest. Mayhap he will talk later. You've gotten very little sleep this week."

That was true enough. Besides, he could not stand this dank, suffocating dungeon one second longer. He turned and forced himself to climb the stone steps. He should drink himself into oblivion so he could forget it all for a while. But he was not that type of man. His family and clan might need him at any moment.

As they crossed the wet, torchlit bailey, a wild-eyed, anxious servant rushed toward them. "Her ladyship requests your presence in the laird's chamber."

 

***

 

'Twas after midnight and Colin sat alone by his father's bedside, listening to the older man's labored breaths. Bryce and his mother had been beside him for hours earlier in the night, after the healer had said his father's fever was worse and his breathing weaker. His ma was even more sleep-deprived than Colin, and she was not as strong as she used to be.

Bryce had tried to convince Colin that he would stay up while Colin slept. Colin had refused and assured them if anything changed, he would wake them. He wanted another chance to pray for his father's recovery. Without doubt, Colin had prayed more in the past week, since arriving back home, than in his entire life.

How could he be struck with two punches of devastating news in such a short span of time? First a rejection from the woman he loved, then news that his father was critically injured. The two people he was not certain he could live without.

His father was the man he trusted, admired and depended on most in the world. Colin had always sought out his wisdom when making important decisions. But now he couldn't. He'd so wanted to tell him about Kristina.

He observed his father's sleeping face, then leaned forward, wondering if his father might hear his words despite seeming far away.

"Da, I met a beautiful lass. Her name is Lady Kristina MacQueen. I want to bring her to meet you. I want… to marry her, but she doesn't think she's capable of being a chief's wife. She has the most caring heart and… she is strong. In fact, she's the strongest woman I've ever met. She has survived terrible treatment by her clan. Because of her severe injuries, she lost her sight, but that matters not to me in the least. Her spirit shines like a beacon in the night. I know she is the only woman for me. I asked her to marry me, but she has refused. I so wanted to discuss this with you and ask you if you would approve of her as a bride for me. She has no dowry and can bring no alliances to our clan. You must recover so you can give me your advice."

"Colin," his father whispered.

Shocked, Colin wondered if he was imagining things. He moved closer and took his father's hand. "Da? I'm here. Are you awake?"

The older man's eyes remained closed. "Love," he breathed, forcing the word out.

Though they had always been close, his father had never told him he loved him. Colin's throat felt near choked off, but he forced in a breath. "I love you, too, Da. Please stay with us. I need you now more than ever."

"Strong chief, son." His da squeezed his hand.

Nay! His father could not be saying what he thought he was. Colin swallowed past the large lump in his throat as his father's fingers went lax.

Holding on tightly to his da's hand, refusing to let him go, Colin said another prayer.

"I blame myself, Da, and I'm sorry," Colin whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't send a messenger to tell you Red Holme, the son of the last MacKillican chief, was out for revenge. I had no inkling he would come after you." Colin knew he should've left Bearach the instant he'd gotten Kristina back safely. He should've been here to protect his father.

For hours, Colin sat close to the bed, holding his father's relaxed hand, listening to his breathing. Thoughts and images entered his head—the good times he had spent with his father. In his earliest memories, his father had been a strong and noble man, so robust, tall and commanding. He took his responsibilities seriously, but at times, when no one was looking, his father was playful. He seemed to delight in his sons. He would whisper funny things to Colin and Bryce during supper at the high table, making them laugh and earning them scowls from Ma. Da had taught them how to ride horses and fight with a sword and targe.

Colin must have drifted off to sleep with these pleasant, soothing memories. The sounds of a female yelling shocked him awake. He bolted from the chair.

"M'laird!" Deidra stood on the other side of his father's bed, shaking him. "Och! Nay!" she wailed.

"Is he gone?" Colin felt as if he were choking, breath refusing to enter his lungs. Not seeing his father's chest rise and fall, he touched his face. "He is still warm."

"Aye, but he does not breathe," Deidra sobbed. "Your poor ma will be devastated."

"He must have only just passed, minutes ago." Damnation, why hadn't Colin been awake? Ma and Bryce should've been here. He'd promised them he would wake them.

Colin felt as if his soul were being ripped to shreds. How could he go on without his father?