Читать книгу Highland Sword - Ruth Ryan Langan - Страница 10

Chapter One

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Mystical Kingdom—1559

“Allegra, you’ve worked long enough.” Kylia wiped a strand of coal-black hair from her cheek and paused beside the garden row where her sister was busy hoeing. “Now come fishing with me.”

“How I’d love to. But I’ve another row to see to.”

“It will keep. And you’ll feel so fresh and cool when you splash barefoot in the stream with me.”

“Aye. I’d like that.” Allegra mopped at the sweat that beaded her brow. “As soon as I finish here, I’ll join you.”

“Promise?”

“I do.”

Kylia smiled, for the pleasure was always greater when shared with her sister. As she swung away, her youngest sister, Gwenellen, came racing across the meadow, followed by Jeremy. Though he’d once been known as a fierce troll, exacting payment from all who crossed his bridge, Jeremy had found contentment here in the Mystical Kingdom.

“Allegra. Jeremy and I have found a marvelous berry patch in the forest.”

The little troll nodded. “They’re the sweetest yet.” His voice resembled that of a frog croaking. “Come with us and help us pick them, Allegra.”

She shook her head. “First I have to finish my chore. Then I promised Kylia I’d fish with her. But if you two are still in the forest when I’ve finished with all that, I’ll help.”

Gwenellen shot her sister a pixie smile. “Here. Let me finish your chore right now.” Before Allegra could stop her she clapped her hands and chanted, “Be gone, weeds. Do as I wish.”

Almost at once a shower of seeds fell from the sky, followed by a net filled with fish.

Gwenellen looked around in dismay, then lifted her head to shout, “Not seeds. Weeds. And I didn’t say fish, I said wish.”

Allegra was convulsed with laughter. “Oh, Gwenellen. You really need to practice your spells.”

“I suppose I do.” Her younger sister’s frown turned into a smile. “Well, it looks like you’ll have to weed your garden after all. But when you’re done, promise you’ll join us?”

“If you’re still in the forest picking berries.”

Gwenellen nodded. “We’ll probably still be there. You know we always eat one for every one we drop in my basket.”

Allegra laughed as she glanced at Jeremy patting his round tummy. “I know. Just try not to eat so many that you can’t make it back in time to sup.”

“Have you ever known me to be late for supper?” With her laughter ringing on the air, the fair-haired lass danced off to the forest in search of her berries, with the little troll racing to keep up.

Just then Allegra’s grandmother, Wilona, made her way along the neat rows of the garden, and paused beside her granddaughter, bent to her hoeing. “You’re doing a fine job, Allegra.”

The lass paused to wipe her forehead with the back of her hand. “I enjoy watching the tender shoots breaking through the ground, Gram. The birth of each small plant is such a wondrous thing.”

“Aye.” Wilona smiled at this. It was so typical of her eldest granddaughter. Despite her practical nature, Allegra had the most tender of hearts. She could do the work of three people, then take on another chore, just to give her sisters a chance to swim or bask in the early-summer sun.

The older woman glanced around. “Where are your sisters?”

“Kylia is down by the stream, no doubt already splashing like a fish.”

The old woman shared a smile with her. “Aye. That one does love the water. Let’s just hope she remembers to fetch some of those fish for our supper. And Gwenellen?”

“Off in the forest with Jeremy, hunting berries.” Allegra wisely refrained from mentioning the latest failed spell, for their grandmother had despaired of ever teaching her youngest granddaughter the skills the others enjoyed with such ease.

“The lass does have a fondness for sweets. As does Jeremy.” Wilona frowned. “Still, it isn’t fair to leave you with the garden chores while they’re off playing.”

“I don’t mind, Gram.” Allegra scraped at the earth, dislodging a patch of weeds. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here. This is as pleasant to me as the water is to Kylia, and the soothing forest to Gwenellen.”

“I understand, for it was always the same with me.” The older woman filled her pockets with greens before turning away. “But you’ve already mucked the stalls and collected bundles of herbs for your mother’s potions.”

Allegra smiled at the mention of Bessie. Her gifts were many, including the ability to sing like an angel. Allegra and her sisters had learned a score of lullabyes from the old woman, who’d often sung them to sleep in their young days.

“When you finish here, come back to the cottage and help yourself to the stew Bessie and I have simmering.”

“I will, Gram.” Allegra kissed her grandmother’s cheek before returning to her work.

She had chosen this spot for the garden because it lay in a high meadow, surrounded by forest on either side. Here in the sunlight, under her watchful care, fat cabbages grew to the size of a man’s head. Neat rows of kale and chard grew alongside sage and thyme.

It wasn’t an easy task to keep the wild things from taking over the garden plot. It took diligence on Allegra’s part. She devoted several hours each day during the short summer months to tilling the soil and attacking the weeds that threatened. Her mother and grandmother had taught her how to build a wattle fence of green willow branches and twigs, intricately woven to keep the forest creatures at bay.

Around her, the meadow was a sea of heather, the graceful purple blossoms swaying in the gentle breeze. Out of nowhere a shadow fell over her. Puzzled, she glanced heavenward. A hawk, perhaps. Or a thundercloud. The sky was sunny and clear, without a single cloud to mar its beauty. There was no sign of a bird. Alarmed, she looked around to see what had caused the shadow.

Too late, she saw the figure of a blood-spattered giant, mouth set in a tight line, eyes narrowed on her with grim concentration. In his hands was a length of plaid that he tossed over her, pinning her arms to her sides, covering her head to blot out the light and still her cries.

She struggled, and managed to kick her legs until even they were wrapped firmly. Swaddled as helplessly as an infant, she was unable to move.

She could hear the sound of his breathing as he raced through the meadow, carrying her slung over his shoulder. Once in the forest he paused to pull himself into the saddle while holding her firmly in his arms. Then the horse was running, the wind rushing past them as he urged his steed ever faster. Tree branches slapped and snagged, and she could hear the giant’s occasional muttered curse. But though they splashed through streams and clattered over rocks, never once did he pause, or even slow the pace.

Allegra struggled to clear her mind of fear, so that she could get her bearings. But all she could see in her mind’s eye was the giant. Standing as tall as a tree. Hands big and rough and bruising as they bound her. And that one brief glimpse into his eyes. Eyes filled with utter darkness.

How had he bested the dragon? Could it be that this giant was even stronger than the mighty creature that stood guard over their kingdom? The thought terrified her.

The horse slowed to a walk and Allegra could hear the splash of water. Moments later she was shivering as the water soaked her bindings.

Her heart sank. This had to be the Enchanted Loch, the barrier that had always kept her and her family safe from the outside world. Once her abductor made it to the other side, he would be free to take her anywhere, and she would be unable to stop him.

She had to act now, or all would be lost.

Concentrating all her energy, she conjured an image of her mother, and as the image came into focus, called out to her in her mind.

Nola sat at her loom, pleased with the design she was weaving. At her feet sat Bessie. Despite the old woman’s fearsome looks, she was a gentle soul who had long ago forgiven those who had mocked and reviled her. In gratitude for the haven she’d been given here in the Mystical Kingdom, she was devoted to Nola and her family.

The fabric on Nola’s loom looked as though it had been spun by angels. Soft as a spider’s web it was, with fine, intricate spirals that looped one into the other like exotic jewels.

Old Bessie smiled. “This will make a lovely gown for one of your daughters.”

“Aye. I so enjoy making them pretty things.”

“And why not?” Bessie’s smile deepened. “They’re fairer than any flowers.”

At a cry Nola’s head came up sharply. “Allegra?”

She looked around for her daughter. Seeing no one, she glanced at the old woman. “Did you hear that?”

“Nay. But then I don’t have your gifts, Nola.”

At that Nola shoved away from the loom and walked to the door of the cottage.

Outside, Wilona was stirring her stew over an open fire.

“Allegra just called to me. Have you seen her?”

“Aye. Weeding her garden.” Wilona’s sharp eyes narrowed on her daughter’s troubled face. “What’s wrong?”

“Something, though I know not what.” Already Nola was hurrying up the hill toward the meadow. “She needs me, for I heard her calling my name.”

Wilona set aside her wooden spoon and hurried after her daughter, with the old woman trailing slowly behind.

When they came to the meadow, Nola knelt and retrieved the hoe from the dirt where Allegra had dropped it.

Her mother was already examining the print of a man’s boot in the sand. Her tone was low with fear. “An intruder from beyond. He would have to slay the dragon.” Wilona frowned in concentration. “I thought I heard a cry earlier, but because I was surrounded by bleating lambs, I couldn’t be certain just what it was.”

“Is he a barbarian?” Nola’s tone was little more than a whisper.

“Nay.” Wilona straightened, holding a torn piece of plaid that clung to a section of wattle fence. “A Highlander, from the look of this.”

“No Highlander would dare to risk the Enchanted Loch.”

“No ordinary Highlander, perhaps.” Wilona caught her daughter’s arm. “You must know that even hidden here, away from prying eyes, there are those who desire the power.”

“But for what reason?”

The older woman shook her head. “I know not. But this I know. We must stop him before he crosses the loch, or all will be lost.”

The two women lifted their fingers to their mouths and gave a series of shrill whistles. Within minutes Kylia stepped from the stream and hurried to the meadow. From out of the forest came tiny Gwenellen, moving as swiftly as a shadow, followed more slowly by Jeremy.

After a hasty explanation, the four women formed a circle and joined hands, chanting in an ancient tongue, while Jeremy and Bessie sat in the grass, adding their voices to the chorus.

Merrick MacAndrew had never seen anything like this. One minute the waters of the loch were so clear and calm, he could see all the way to the bottom. The next they were swirling and churning as though they were a bubbling cauldron stirred by a witch’s spell.

Witch. His eyes narrowed on the bundle in his arms. She may have looked like a goddess in her garden, with that exquisite gown and hair neatly plaited in one fat braid, but now he had no doubt that this fiery female was the reason for the loch’s abrupt upheaval.

If he weren’t so desperate, he’d have the sense to be afraid. If his life meant anything at all to him, he would surely turn back. But without his son, his life was meaningless. And without the woman in his arms, his son would surely die.

“Witch. You’ll not deter me from my path,” he muttered.

Just then the angry waves swept him from the saddle and he found himself floundering in the deep. For a moment his precious bundle was torn from his hands, but he managed to snag an end of the plaid and drag her close.

Coughing and choking, Allegra struggled against the cloth that bound her. “You must set me free at once.”

“So you can flee? I’ll see you dead before I consent to such foolishness.”

“Then you’ll have your wish soon enough.” She coughed and came up sputtering as another wave washed over her. “At least give me an opportunity to stay afloat.”

He was about to refuse when a thought came to him. “Aye. I’ll do as you ask.” Within seconds he’d unwrapped the length of plaid, freeing her hands and legs. Then, just as quickly, he wound it around his own waist and around hers, binding her firmly to him. “As long as you understand that in order to save your own life, you must save mine, as well.” He shot her a look of triumph. “If one of us dies, the other dies, as well.”

“You’re mad.”

“So I’ve been told.”

A series of waves rolled over them, tumbling them about like leaves in a storm. But the cloth held, and when they came up, gasping for air, they were still bound together.

Seeing a flash of movement beside him, Merrick’s arm shot out and he captured a handful of his horse’s mane. His other arm wrapped around her as he shouted, “Hold on, woman.”

They were dragged through the waves with such force they couldn’t catch their breath. The water thrashed and pummeled and hurled them about until they were dazed and clinging. Each time they thought they’d survived the worst, the waves would increase in strength, battering them until they were struggling for breath.

Above the sound of the waves and water, Allegra heard the familiar words of the ancient chant and knew that her family had come together to try to save her. The thought of them forming a circle of protection gave her a sense of peace. As she was buffeted and tossed about, she closed her eyes, willing herself into the circle with them.

Suddenly a wall of water as high as the rock cliffs that surrounded the loch bore down on them, rolling them over and over until they were bruised and battered, their lungs screaming for air.

So this was how it felt to die, Allegra thought as she was dragged to the very bottom of the loch, still bound to the stranger. She absorbed a blow from the horse’s flailing hooves as the terrified animal struggled to the surface.

For a moment she feared her head would explode from the pain. Then she felt wave after wave of darkness rolling over her. Strong arms surrounded her, and she saw the face of her long-dead father, who had descended from the noblest of Scotland’s families. Kenneth Drummond could trace his lineage all the way to the first king of the Scots.

She held on to him, thrilling to his strength as, with powerful strokes, he broke the surface. For several long moments they clung, filling their lungs with precious air. Then he untied the plaid and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to shore.

The water here was as calm as glass.

She lifted a hand to his cheek. “Am I dead then, Father?”

“You’re neither dead, nor with your father.”

At the sound of that stern voice, she opened her eyes and felt her heart plummet. Not her father. The giant.

He had somehow escaped the perils of the Forest of Darkness and the Enchanted Loch to storm the Mystical Kingdom itself.

Sweet heaven. Who was this man, that he could overcome such powerful magic?

In the meadow of the Mystical Kingdom a dark shadow passed overhead. A sudden wind came up, catching their hair and sending the hems of their gowns whipping about their ankles. The nearby trees were bent nearly double from the force of the wind.

Their chanting abruptly ceased as they looked around with a feeling of dread.

It was Wilona who finally spoke. “Allegra is lost to us. She is no longer safe within the confines of the Mystical Kingdom. Her captor’s powers must be far more potent than ours. Or perhaps his need greater than ours.”

“But how can that possibly be?” Gwenellen’s eyes, as blue as sapphires, went wide with disbelief as she looked to her mother for the answer. “Why can’t we cast a spell to stop him?”

“Come here, child.” Nola drew her youngest daughter close, then caught her middle daughter’s hand in hers. “There are two powers that are stronger than any other.” Nola remembered the man who had claimed her heart, and had given her three precious daughters. “One is love.” She thought of the myths and fears and gossip that had driven them from their home to seek refuge here in this place. “The other hate.”

“How will we know which power drives Allegra’s captor?” Kylia’s dark eyes, usually flashing with humor, were now sparkling with tears.

Nola shook her head. “It is not for us to know.”

“Then how can we help her?” Gwenellen’s voice nearly caught in her throat.

Nola dropped an arm around each of her daughters’ shoulders and drew them close to press kisses to their cheeks. “We can send Allegra calming thoughts and healing light to see her through whatever the fates have in store for her. Though your sister is unaccustomed to the ways of that other world beyond our shore, she is strong and brave. Best of all, there is a goodness in her heart that will see her through whatever trials may be in store for her.”

But though Nola spoke with conviction, there was a heaviness around her own heart. She had brought her daughters here to protect them from a world of disbelievers. Now her beloved Allegra had been taken away from all that was safe and familiar, and thrust back into that very world.

A world that could use her innocence and tenderness against her.

A world that seemed always bent upon destroying that which it couldn’t understand.

Highland Sword

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