Chapter 20

Lifting his forearm, Rob wiped the sweat off his brow, darkening the hairs so they gleamed in the late winter sunlight. With a nod and a quick, “Tomorrow,” he dismissed the opponent he’d fought with on the training ground.

“There’s one lad who’ll be thankful ye were fighting with dulled blades,” commented Nhaimeth.

Rob looked over his shoulder at his wee friend and grinned. “Not only him; he’s learning fast and has probably left a few bruises on my hide.” His breath floated before him, easily visible as the air around them cooled and every huff of breath as he fought to get his wind back showed how tired he felt. He ran himself ragged trying to tire himself enough that sleep would overcome him the moment he lay down, tired enough that the thought of pulling Melinda into his arms wouldn’t have a chance to surface in his brain; mayhap one of these nights that might happen.

Aye, and one of those nights he could fancy himself as the bravest man in Christendom or the biggest fool. Every little move she made, turning over to her side or stomach, made him want to lurch closer and brought him out in a fierce sweat.

Nhaimeth was speaking again and he had to pull himself out of the memory of his wife’s warm embrace. “What was that ye said?”

Nhaimeth, the one who knew him best, raised his brows and looked past Rob’s raised elbow in his sister’s direction, saying, “Just that Maggie has a fine style about her and a lethal eye to compliment her carved wooden sword.”

A bark of laughter wouldn’t be held back as Rob responded, “I simply wish she wasnae so young, or quite so impulsive.”

Nhaimeth added his own chuckle to the moment. “I blame Morag. She’s one of my dearest friends, yet even I ken fine she’s impulsive. Where else would Maggie get it frae?” he flung back at Rob, still laughing while he studied young Maggie. She was holding her own against one of the younger housecarls. “That’s a fancy sword she wielding, where did that come frae?

“Ach, seemingly Guaril dragged along the auld woodcutter. It was in his wee forest hut that Rowena arrange to meet Melinda. The first I heard of it was when I admired the practice sword she was waving around.” He shook his head. “Guaril didnae think to mention the fact, however, the McArthur will have nae complaints. Morag has already cozened Ronald into carving a grand chair for Euan.” He slammed Nhaimeth with a grin that his friend probably thought had been in hiding, for Rob hadn’t felt like using it lately. It was the notion of his father listening to his clansmen’s complaints in a chair fit for a king that loosed it. “Can ye just see him sitting up there like cock o’ the north.”

He wasnae surprised when Nhaimeth grinned and asked, “And why not? There’s few chieftains as fair as he, an’ if a throne-like seat was guid enough for Erik the Bear then why not for Euan?”

Rob tossed a last glance at his sister afore lifting his abandoned shirt. Using it like a strip of linen to wipe the last of the sweat frae his chest, he turned to stride through the Bailey, Nhaimeth by his side, saying, “Yer right there, wee friend, but it’s more about ye not having been able to get past what yer father did to ye. Have ye told Rowena that by rights ye should be chief of the Comlyn clan?”

He looked down as Nhaimeth lifted his head to stare at him. “Nae. Why give her anything to think less of me? It’s naught to be proud of. Did ye ken that Rowena can nae more see into my future than she can her own, yet it was she who told Guaril that La Mont would kill the woodcutter if he left him behind? What do ye think that means?”

It struck him that Nhaimeth could see nae further than the tip of his nose. “Mayhap the reason is yer future and hers are tied together. What do ye make of that wee man?” he asked, his grin finding its way to his face for the second time that day.

The suggestion made to him by Rob wouldn’t leave Nhaimeth’s mind. However, nae amount of turning it over seemed likely to reveal the truth. Seeing into the future was Rowena’s gift, not his. Aye, he had been tempted to reach for more after he and Rowena had stood together on the battlements, then he’d hear Erik Comlyn’s growl at the back of his mind telling him not to be so foolish, to be happy with what he had. Now Rob had stirred him up again.

For that reason, tonight he had taken a seat in the belly of the Hall to share the evening meal at the same board as Rowena, Guaril and the other gypsies. The evening passed quickly with him enjoying their company, the shared laughter, Rowena. Did the laughing glances she cast his way mean what Rob had insinuated?

Then Rowena nudged him with her elbow, her green eyes twinkling as, with a jerk of her head in the direction of the high board, she jested, “Will ye look at that, the lads have their grandparents twisted around their little fingers. It’s a delight to see a grown man submit to a bairn without recognising what’s happening.”

“Aye, I have to say it’s a pleasure to see Euan laugh at their antics.”

“I hope he can always find aught to laugh over, for that pair are going to be a right handful—Ralf more so than Harry—but he’ll come into his own one day and surprise us all.” Her voice softened, dreamlike, as if she saw something beyond the scene Nhaimeth observed. He turned in his seat and listened to her say, “There was more set in motion than just a marriage when Rob took Melinda to his bed.”

Only to himself would he admit that a cauld shiver slid up his spine, as if a draught had sneaked inside the Hall while Rowena spoke. But it was Melinda who caught his attention as she stared down at them. What was she thinking? Two wee bits of folk, yet one of them had turned her life around. Which led him to wonder if she blamed Rowena for her being at Cragenlaw.

A squeal frae Harry saw Melinda turning away, a light in her green eyes that struck him as familiar—that struck him as being exactly like his Rowena’s.

Shifting his gaze to Rowena again, he took her hand and said, “What do ye mean, more set in motion?” As he awaited an answer, her focus was distant, dreamy as if she had drifted away frae Cragenlaw—away frae him.

“When I watch the twins, Harry and Ralf both, I see more. I see a need to protect them—I see us protecting them. I just can’t see from what or whom, but I do see a need.” She paused, and when she continued, her voice wrought shivers in him again. “They are part of something bigger, and when it comes to pass, they and we will have been in our graves long since. The only prophecy I can make is that a grand Scottish hero will be at the heart of it, and one or more of their issue will be there to make sure he returns.”

After a long, drawn out sigh, she returned to the hall, to Cragenlaw, to him, hanging onto his hand as if she dared not let go. Nae smile crossed her lips, nae jest over what she had told him; instead her features took on a serious mien as if carved frae the granite walls surrounding them. “Are ye with me in this Nhaimeth, ready to put yer life at risk? For that’s what it will take.”

He kept his voice low, felt it roughened by the lump in his throat, “Aye, I’m with ye, lass—both of us together, now and always.” And as if he wasnae surrounded by a Hall full of clansmen and friends, eating, drinking, laughing while Rowena made a prophecy that sounded as if it might be their death knell, “I love ye, lass.” He squeezed her hand, wishing they were in a place where he could kiss her soft lips. “I love ye, Rowena, and I think we should marry, soon—now—afore we’re damned by the prophecy and die afore we ever get a chance to be man and wife.”

“I agree,” she lowered her eyelids, shy-like, and while his heart pounded his chest at the sudden realisation of his temerity, she looked up at him through the veil of her lashes and hesitantly confessed, “I love ye, Nhaimeth. This is why when I hold yer hand I cannot see yer future, because yer life, yer future is tangled up in mine. I have a gift, but all it has allowed me to see is a glimpse of what it might be as regards the wee lads.” She smiled at last. “Let’s marry when the bluebells push their pretty heads up through the forest floor. That feels like a fitting time.”

Nhaimeth couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across his face, and if there was a light in his eyes, it shone for and on Rowena. The unbelievable had come to pass.

He was betrothed to the woman he loved and who loved him.

Erik the Bear had thought his eldest son would ne’er amount to anything.

Nhaimeth had just proved him wrong.