Prologue
Constantinople, 1463
Nay Highlander feared the sea—even if a wicked storm threatened to smash his ship into a thousand pieces. Jamie MacKay shivered and pulled his hood up as he stepped onto the pier, eyeing the angry, black sky overhead. Lightening exploded, followed by the loudest crack of thunder he’d ever heard.
His time in the great city of Constantinople, now called Istanbul since the Ottomans conquered it, had finally come to an end. Jamie had successfully completed his cousin’s affairs, reducing to order all of Laird MacKay’s properties and servants and was proud to return with enough profit to keep his clan comfortable for generations to come. Three leather bags filled with coin were secured beneath the folds of his tartan. He rested his hand protectively over his right hip, reassuring himself the gold was safe.
Like any good Scot, he missed home. But something about this place… He turned around, taking in the sights and smells—a thriving market surrounded the harbor, welcoming water-weary visitors from around the world. Jamie closed his eyes, reliving the passionate nights with the woman who had gladly welcomed him into her bed, knowing the arrangement was temporary, knowing Jamie would eventually leave. But he’d rewarded Hana with a house and coin; her family would never want for anything.
Aye, twas no mystery why his cousin had lost his soul to this exotic place. For as much beauty as it held, the cobblestone streets were stained with blood from the thousands of martyrs who had died in defense of its secrets and wealth.
Jamie wiped the rain from his face and continued walking down the sturdy, plank walkway. Men shouldna have access to so many temptations. And men shouldna gaze into the wide, black eyes of the exquisite women who lived there. Perhaps that’s why most of the women wore veils. To protect strangers like Jamie, to keep him from falling in love and abandoning everything he held sacred in the Highlands.
Jamie.
Who had called him?
No one stood out.
Jamie.
An old woman smiled at him, pointing. “You are the Highlander, Jamie MacKay?” she asked in broken Gaelic.
He scratched his head, trying to place her, trying to remember if he’d ever seen or met the woman before. “What do ye want?”
“Give me your hand.” She edged closer, her tanned face weathered from years in the hot sun.
He shook his head, something deep inside warning him to get away. “I doona know ye. Go back to yer family. Women shouldna be at the harbor alone.” Though he knew the statement meant nothing, for the stranger was well beyond the age of childbearing, granting her more freedom than any young woman possessed.
“Why do you fear me?” she asked, unmoving. “Is it my eyes?”
Jamie hadna noticed before. Her left eye was green, her right brown. Though a rare physical characteristic, he’d known another woman with two different-colored eyes in Scotland. “Nay, woman. Yer eyes doona scare me. I am in a hurry.”
“To return to your homeland? Where another woman is fated to fall in love with you?”
Her words grabbed his interest, as they were meant to. “What is this babbling? What woman? What homeland?”
“Alba.”
For the love of Christ… How did she know him? “Is it coin ye want?”
She laughed. “I have been well compensated to seek you out, Highlander. Your woman, Hana, has sent me as a parting gift.”
For what purpose? Surely not… Had he left Hana that dissatisfied, that bitter? Twould take an ungodly amount of ale to make him…
Again, the old woman laughed at him. “You limit yourself by thinking like a man. I am not here to warm your bed. I am the greatest fiosaiche in Istanbul.”
Jamie took in her colorful robes made of the finest material, the red head covering, her white teeth, and the gold bracelets on her delicate wrists. Someone cared for her—only a wealthy family could afford such luxuries. “I am in nay need of a soothsayer.” He rubbed the back of his neck, anxious to join his men on ship. “Return to Hana and thank her for thinking of me.” He turned to go, but the woman gripped his arm.
“You are not a coward,” she said.
Jamie sighed and faced her. “It doesna take divine powers to make such an observation.”
“No,” she agreed. “You are a strong man. Loyal. Stubborn. Foolish sometimes. But keenly aware of what you want. Hana prepared your heart for the woman you are meant to love and protect.”
Hana was a skilled courtesan. Beautiful and energetic. The last thing he associated with his former lover was anything related to his heart. “My heart doesna require anything, woman. I am more stalwart than the fortifications of this great city.”
She grinned. “Great city? The city of many names? A place where too many spirits wait for vengeance. Never return here. Though you do not believe in my abilities, I will tell you two things I hope you will remember. You will be the father of a new land, a new people.”
This time Jamie chuckled. “I am a servant—sent here to…”
“Laird MacKay? Yes. He is an accomplished prince. Half of the city knows who he is—some miss him, some wish him a long and painful death. You are his kinsman, sent to eliminate any connection he has to this place. But tell him, once anyone spills blood on the desert sand, whether his own or another man’s, he becomes part of this land. Nothing can change that.”
Jamie shifted his feet, starting to believe her. “And the second thing you wanted to tell me?”
“Eager to depart? Good.”
“Aye.”
“The woman who will claim you, her name will remind you of Hana. Let that serve as my mark of the truth I speak. You will have a long and meaningful life.”
Without another word, the woman disappeared into the crowd, leaving Jamie with an uneasy feeling in his gut. What had she meant by saying he’d be the father of a new land, a new people? He served at the pleasure of his cousin, the MacKay. To rise against him would be considered treasonous.
“Jamie?” His friend and interpreter, Kuresh, called.
Relieved to hear a familiar voice, Jamie said, “Is the ship ready?”
“Yes. What did the old witch tell you?”
“Witch?”
“Nudar. She is famous.”
Jamie slapped his friend on the back and started for the ship. “Nothing of importance.”
Within the hour, Jamie ordered his men to set sail, the desire to breathe Highland air again, stronger than ever.