Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

A ll too quickly Dahlia had bundled her few items into the saddle bags and was ready to ride. She spent a few minutes with Emilia and Beattie. The maid had happily took on the role of caring for Emilia with Dahlia gone.

Emilia reached a hand to clasp Dahlia's. "I thank ye lass fer yer affection and care. I ken Beattie will tend tae me needs with great kindness also. It willnae be long before I am strong enough tae ride and we will all be reunited at yer family's home."

Tears were rolling down Dahlia's cheeks as she farewelled Arran.

"I'll nae pretend I am nae fashed fer ye. I ken Bairre will come with many guards, ready tae fight, and he'll nae spare ye this time if he has a chance tae run ye through with his sword."

Arran only laughed at this. "I'm a better swordsman than Bairre. I'm nae afraid of me half-braither. Me only concern is the vengeance he might seek on both ye and me maither. Ye'll be safe with Craig and he'll take ye tae yer braithers."

The track they were taking was not far from the bothy. It would take them down the mountain and from there they would reach the main road leading them to into her clan's lands.

He kissed Dahlia's tears away and embraced her again for one last kiss. Then he hoisted her onto the back of her mare, giving it a slight tap with his hand on the haunches and she took off at a gentle trot down the track. He stood and watched until they disappeared into the woods far below. It came as a surprise to discover his own tears moistening his cheeks.

Dahlia and Craig had not been gone long when Nicol rode up. He carried a large leather satchel into the bothy and unpacked a selection of tiny clay bottles which he lined up on the table in front of Emilia.

"This one is a mixture tae give ye a good night's sleep," he held up the first bottle and lined up the others. "And these are special concoctions of Nell's. This one," he gestured toward the first, "will make yer cheeks glow, this next one will bring the breath back intae yer body, and this," he tapped the largest, final bottle, "will make ye strong,"

"Mistress Nell says if ye take a spoonful of each of these before ye go tae bed at night, ye'll be raring tae go come the morning."

Emilia chuckled. "I cannae wait. I am eager tae be gone from this place."

Nicol looked around and raised a quizzical eyebrow at Arran. "Melady Dahlia and melord Donald?"

"Craig is escorting the lady to her home. They should be there by nightfall." He glanced at Emilia and Beattie, who were examining the bottles. "And if Mistress Nell's potions work their magic, we shall be on the road north before morning."

Once night fell, Emilia yawned. "I dinnae think I can stay awake much longer." She rubbed her eyes. Although she was still weak, her voice was stronger and the color was back in her cheeks.

Beattie dished up the last of the rabbit stew which they washed down with a flagon of ale that Nicol had brought with him from the village. Once Emilia was asleep on her little pallet with Beattie resting beside her, Nicol and Arran wrapped themselves in their cloaks and settled down to sleep beside the shouldering remains of the fire. With luck on their side, they would be riding away at dawn.

The sky was streaked with palest pink and mauve by the time they were all awake and prepared for their journey. Beattie passed around the last of the bannocks and oat cakes for them to break their fast.

Emilia was up and helping Beattie, passing their water flagons so they could quench their thirst.

She took the last of the little clay pots and drank what remained of the potion. Grimacing at the taste, she managed a smile.

"I am feeling well enough tae ride. I dinnae wish tae hold us back any longer. We must be off before Bairre Mackinnon has another opportunity fer evil-doing."

Arran studied his mother. This morning she was more like he remembered her. Busy, watchful and calm. His heart sang. His mother would be well again and free. Soon he would be with Dahlia, ready to greet her brothers.

Before they departed, they dragged the two guards inside the bothy. Both men had been tied to a sturdy tree, with just enough spare rope tae allow them tae relieve themselves a matter of a few feet away. They growled at Arran as he and Nicol let them into the bothy. "Our master will slice out yer guts when he catches up with ye," one of them said.

Arran laughed. "Methinks it will be yer guts he hollows out well before then."

They left the two men beside the embers of the fire and made their exit.

"Ye need tae ride me horse, melady, he's a good, wise steed, sure-footed and cam." Nicol passed the reins of his gentle chestnut to Arran who assisted Emilia into the saddle.

Beattie was already mounted on her mare and within moments Arran had swung himself onto the back of his stallion.

Nicol gestured toward the better-looking of the two horses tethered nearby that had belonged to the guards. "I'll ride this one." He mounted, taking the reins of the second horse and wheeled around to face the path with both horses.

Without any further delay, the little party moved off down the track on their descent from the mountain. The going was much easier than their climb had been and, with fine weather on their side, they continued without mishap. Arran kept a close eye on his mother, with an ever-watchful Beattie close by, but she kept up with them, uncomplaining, although at times he noticed her wincing as if she was in pain.

Once they'd reached the gentler, grass-covered slopes at the foot of the mountain, impatient as he was to push a head, Arran called a halt. They dismounted in a shady grove where the horses could graze on fresh grass and a little burn tumbling nearby enabled them to refill their water flagons.

After consulting briefly with Nicol as to their position, Arran went over to Emilia who had found a seat on an old fallen log next to Beattie, who was assisting her. He crouched beside her, his eyes mirroring his concern.

Emilia reached a hand out and patted his arm. "Dinnae fash, son. I am tired, that's nae secret, but I can sit on a horse with nay trouble. I dinnae wish fer ye tae travel slowly fer me sake." She looked up at him knowingly. "And I ken from the way ye regard the Lady Dahlia, that ye are eager tae be in her company once again."

Arran laughed softly. "I am pleased tae hear ye're travelling well, Maither. And, it seems, yer eyesight is still as keen as ever. She has stolen me heart, ye ken... Nay matter how much we both tried to avoid it. She has agreed tae wed with me, if we are able tae get the king's approval tae break her betrothal tae Bairre."

Emilia gave a heartfelt sigh, taking Arran's hand in her gentle grip. "That gladdens me soul tae hear. And I give me blessing tae ye both."

She rose to her feet, shaking out her skirt and smoothing her hair. "If ye're wishing tae wed ‘tis all the more urgent that we find the priest who performed the marriage ceremony fer me and the Laird Gregory Mackinnon. He has the documents that prove yer entitlement tae inherit from yer legal father and be recognized as Bairre's half-brother."

"D'ye have any notion of what happened tae the priest once the laird was dead and James Mackinnon refused tae acknowledge the marriage?"

"After Gregory's death, when there was so much turmoil and threat from James Mackinnon, Father Deiran was in fear of his life. Taking the documents with him fer safekeeping he took flight to Eire, the place where he was born. I believe he obtained refuge in a monastery there and has remained in that place all these years. He must be a very old man now, if he still lives."

"We must seek him out and obtain those precious documents. I can only pray that the old man has kept them safely and, if he is no longer living, he has entrusted the proof I am nae bastard tae an honest soul."

Emilia brushed a stray lock of his golden hair behind Arran's ear and smiled encouragement. "We require the services of a loyal and honorable man willing to endure the hardship of a sea crossing and who has the courage to travel in a strange land on yer behalf."

Arran nodded, a smile quirking his lips as he glanced over at Nicol who was tending the horses. "Och! Methinks I ken exactly the man tae fulfill all that ye say and bring the documents safely tae me." He turned to his mother and put up an arm for her to grasp as they walked over tae the horses.

Once she was safely ensconced in the saddle again, with Beattie mounted beside her, Arran took the reins of his stallion from Nicol and in no time they were moving ahead with new vigor in their steps.

They followed the same road Arran had travelled a few short weeks before, when he'd been tasked with escorting the Lady Dahlia Mackinnon from her home at Castle MacLeod to meet with her prospective husband, the Laird Bairre Mackinnon in his castle.

Once they passed the tavern where their first night had been spent, he knew they were straddling the border with MacLeod clan lands and within less than a mile they would be safely out of Bairre's clutches. He smiled to himself, recalling Dahlia's efforts to disguise herself as a lad and how she'd fought him when he captured her that night. He'd already been in love with her then, although he'd not dared acknowledge it to himself.

It was not long before they encountered two riders wearing MacLeod tartan. He guessed they were scouts, patrolling the borders of their territory.

After introductions were made and Arran had managed to reassure them, he was not an enemy, despite his Mackinnon name, it proved to be as he'd assumed. Keen to hear news of Dahlia, he asked the men if some time yesterday they had seen two riders, one of whom was the laird's sister, entering their territory.

Both men looked surprised at the question.

The older of the two, whose name Arran understood to be Davie shook his head, while his partner, Euan, declared that it was impossible fer two riders to have entered the clan land without either of them being aware, adding, "and if one of them was the lady Dahlia she would have surely found us out."

This news aroused a dire sense of foreboding in Arran. Surely Craig and Dahlia would have been here well before them. Had some accident or illness befallen them that had caused the delay?

"Can ye they escort us intae the company of the Laird Haldor as I have urgent news of his sister tae convey. He will wish tae hear what I have tae say."

The two men rode ahead with Arran's little group following in their footsteps. As they galloped toward the castle his thoughts were of Dahlia and the dread that she and Craig may have met Bairre's men on the road somewhere and been prevented from completing their journey.

Once they entered the castle courtyard and dismounted, a pair of grooms hurried from the stables to take the reins of their horses and lead them into the stables to be properly attended to after their long, arduous ride.

The Laird Haldor had been alerted to their arrival and he appeared on the steps of the keep and greeted them warmly, shaking Arran's and Nicol's hands. Beattie and Emilia walked behind them up the stairs, to be greeted by Haldor's wife, Sofia, a charming young woman with sparling dark eyes and glossy black hair tumbling over her shoulders.

"Come with me," Haldor commanded, "I've sent fer me braithers Ivor and Arne and they will meet with us in me study. I ken ye bring word of our sister Dahlia and we are most anxious tae hear what ye have tae say."

Arran followed Haldor into the keep and down a series of long passageways, while Nicol disappeared in the direction of the stables, and Emilia and Beattie were escorted into the solar by Sofia.

"I thank ye fer yer kindness tae me maither, Emilia, and melady Dahlia's maid Beattie. Both women have endured harsh conditions during our travel and will be grateful fer some comfort.

Haldor nodded agreeably. "Sofia will arrange fer a meal tae be served and, I daresay, she has already instructed the chamber-maids tae prepare comfortable sleeping quarters fer them. Ye may rest assured they will be well cared fer and their every need met."

As they entered the study Haldor's two brothers, Arne and Ivar, who were waiting by the fire, rose to their feet to greet Arran with broad smiles and handshakes before they joined Haldor at the large oak table in the center of the room.

A scullery maid entered with a tray and tankards filled with ale and distributed them among the men. Haldor lifted his tankard, "Slàinte mhath," he said, "Here's tae yer health."

Arran took a grateful swig of the ale and lowered his tankard.

"I was expecting tae find the Lady Dahlia already present in the castle."

Haldor raised a quizzical eyebrow, fixing Arran with a curious expression. "I received a letter from me dear sister, written mere days ago. In it she mentioned she was in danger from the laird and begging us tae come tae castle Mackinnon tae aid her."

Arran nodded. "Aye. She told me she had written tae ye, asking fer help. But matters became urgent, and it was unsafe for both of us tae remain in the castle, so we made the decision tae leave."

He went on to describe their escape from the castle and how the search for his mother had led them up the mountain, and to the eventual discovery of her imprisonment in the old bothy. Then he told them of Craig's plan to escort Dahlia home tae castle MacLeod in the hope of evading Bairre's pursuit.

As he finished the story, he noted Haldor's expression growing grave.

"Me sister and this man, Craig Donald, didnae arrive. Ye've spoken with our scouts. If they'd entered the clan lands any one of the lads would have seen them."

Arran felt a block of ice settling in the pit of his stomach as he took in the somber faces of the three men opposite. Clearly, they shared his fears.