Chapter 14

Speal had the mortals from the fisher they had captured dragged down into the hold, where Teine manacled and chained them. Dearg took two of the youngest and strongest into the cabin to entertain Derdrui, and the sound of their screams kept most of the others cowering and subdued. Only one, a copper-haired older man with eyes like green glass, remained calm and watchful. From the many white scars on his arms and hands she judged him to be the one with the most experience, and once the noise from the cabin quieted, had him brought up to the deck.

"If you wish live another day, answer my questions," she said to him, and got a nod in return. "You're the head of the crew, then?"

"Aye. My name's Lugh." His gaze shifted to Teine, who hovered close by, and his jaw tightened before he said, "What wish you ken?"

Speal knew he was sizing up her sisters, and looking for any advantage he might use to protect himself and his men. Although that might prove an annoyance, she liked him for it. She'd also had him and all his men searched, so if he did attack, he'd have to fight with his manacled hands. "Ken you the MacMar Clan?"

"I've heard tales, aye," he said, showing a flicker of surprise. "None on my crew."

"I ken that, dolt." She caught his chin and made him look at her. "What of their enchanted island, and the fish folk that protect the place?"

"'Twould seem you ken more than I," Lugh said. A low moan that came from the cabin made his eyes fill with disgust. "You're the witches that attacked Orkney, and murdered all the islanders."

"Most, no' all." She released him. "Aid me in finding the MacMar and their island, and I shall give you whatever you wish."

The fisherman considered that for a long moment before he said, "How shall you bid me aid you?"

Speal took him over to the map they had been using, and pointed to the area where they had briefly captured the MacMar seneschal and his woman. "Last we encountered a MacMar, 'twas here. You've fished there?"

Lugh shook his head. "Too many boats, they've vanished out in those waters. Some say 'tis Norsemen that seize the crews, and sink their vessels so they may hide their crimes."

"Norsemen?" She frowned. "'Tis no' raider colony anywhere near there."

He shrugged. "The get of raping bastarts, then." He lifted his manacled hands. "I may guide you, if you wish find them. Release my eldest deck hands and set them free, and I'll aid you."

"Why should you spare the old?" she countered. "Why no' free the younger?"

"Your Witch Queen shallnae permit you release the lads, as they may endure more and longer. The older men, they've wives and bairns depending on them." He jerked his chin at the skiff lashed to the side of the boat. "Send them off in that, with food, water, and oars."

Speal sensed he was deceiving her, but couldn't fathom how. "What of your wife and bairns?"

"I wed the sea long ago," Lugh said blandly. "She's a wretched wife, never cooks, and refuses give me bairns."

She laughed out loud, startling the other Cait Sith watching them.

"I like you, mortal. Mayhap I shall spare your life in the end for amusing me." She leaned closer to look into his calm eyes. "Fack with me, and you shall long for death the rest of your days."

His mouth took on a bitter curve as he looked over at the darkening horizon. "'Tis naught new."

Speal went below with the mortal, who pointed out the men he wanted released. Most were his age or older, and had little about them that would appeal to the enchantress. When she took them up on deck and removed their manacles and chains, the men gathered around Lugh as if they were his personal guards.

"We'll no' abandon you and the lads, Maister," one of them said.

"You'll do as you're told," Lugh said, his tone stern. "The lads shall serve as sacrifice to the old Gods for their protection. Take the skiff and sail for haven."

Speal saw the other men flinch, as if he'd ordered them to end themselves, and grabbed him by the front of his rough tunic. "What deceit work you now, you bastart?"

"Haven, 'tis the name of our village." He looked down at her fist. "No' every mortal schemes against you, Witch. What may a dozen old men do against you lot?"

Again he looked at her with serenity in his cool green eyes, and once more she liked him for that.

"This one and the others below shall all meet terrible ends if you attempt return and attack us," Speal finally said, looking at the other fishermen, all of whom ducked their heads in deference. "Go home, and stay there."

As the men passed Lugh, each one touched his brow with two fingers and pressed his other hand over his heart. Speal had never seen such a gesture, and wondered what sort of bloodline these mortals actually shared. The head fisherman nodded to his crew, but seemed only interested in the supplies Teine loaded into the skiff before helping another of their sisters lower the small boat into the water. Once afloat four of the men picked up the oars, and a fifth began slapping his hand on the edge of the hull to keep time as they rowed away toward the south.

"You need make use of my boat if you wish search the waters here," Lugh told her as night fell and the skiff disappeared in the darkness. "'Tis faster, and no trader sails out so far from the islands. Half your crew should come with me."

Caroline carriedthe last bundle of clothes from the dock to the cottage, and stowed them in the old cabinet she had decided to use as a closet. The fire in the hearth crackled nicely, but she went outside to assure the smoke from it was funneling out of the chimney. Taking care of the shabby little place was now her responsibility, and she couldn't wait to make some improvements. Tomorrow she'd start with clearing the overgrown garden. She also wanted to clean the cottage from top to bottom, and see what exactly she had on hand to use. If she found some hand tools, the first thing she would build would be a bigger bed.

Jamaran may not be able to spend the whole night, but at least we won't have to have sex on the cobblestone floor.

She didn't want to brood again over Nyall, so she went over to the little pantry room to investigate what Brochan had given her for her food stores. The clan's cook had been overly generous with bread, fruit and cheese, and had even given her a dozen large crocks of butter, jams and honey. She'd told him not to bother giving her any meat, as she intended to catch fish for herself for the time being, but found a huge box of grayish sea salt that would help her preserve what she didn't eat. He'd also promised to teach her how to do or make anything else she needed food-wise.

"Oat flour," she murmured after sniffing the rough-grained flour in one sack. "If I can figure out a skillet, then it's pancakes for breakfast."

For the first time since landing in the bay Caroline completely relaxed. Not having anyone watching her was a huge improvement, as was having her own dedicated living space. By the time she finished improving this place she'd see if the laird would give her permission to live here permanently. As long as she was careful, she'd have another fifty or sixty years to enjoy it.

As long as I'm careful while I'm out diving every day, and none of the Finfolk attack me, and the sharks don't eat me, and I don't get plague or cholera or an impacted tooth that ends up giving me blood poisoning.

Someone knocked on her door, and she walked over to lift the window covering, expecting to see Jamaran. Instead Valerie stood holding a basket filled with nuts, pears and little twine-tied sacks, with two MacMar guards standing behind her.

Against her better judgement Caroline opened the door. "Kind of late for a welcome wagon visit, isn't it?"

"I apologize for disturbing you, but the maids said you probably wouldn't be coming back to the stronghold. I really wanted to talk." She lifted the basket. "The house warming gift was just an excuse."

She opened the door wider to let the laird's wife in, and noted how the guards took flanking positions beside it. "Any coffee beans in the basket?"

"They won't get here for another five centuries or so," the other woman said as she carried her gift over to the kitchen table. "I tucked in some packets of the herbal teas I like, and wrote the ingredients on tags so you know what they are. There's one made of dandelion and roasted barley that is actually pretty close in taste to coffee."

"That was nice of you, thanks." She gestured for her to sit, and took the seat across from her. "Are you going to try to talk me into moving back? Because that will definitely be a one-word conversation on my end."

Valerie smiled a little. "No, the reason I'm here is something Lark told me earlier today. Her sewing room overlooks the walking maze, and she said she noticed you there with Captain Nyall and Commander Jamaran. She said the commander hugged you, which I've never known him to do. From other things I've heard I'm guessing the three of you are, ah...involved?"

"We are." She wondered why Valerie always tried so hard to be polite with her. "Want all the juicy details?"

The laird's wife held up her slim hands. "Honestly, I respect your right to privacy. I think both of them are fine men, and you're a lucky woman. What I want is to help Connal keep the peace on Caladh, and that means not antagonizing the Finfolk. How do you think all those unmated young males will react when they learn you're sleeping with a MacMar and their garrison commander, but not marrying either of them?"

"Like I care what they think." Caroline sat back in her chair. "The laird wants me to break it off with my guys, is that it? Because that's another one-word conversation."

"We want the three of you to protect yourselves." Valerie looked around them. "Put coverings on the windows that no one can see through, and ask the men not to come here at the same time. If you make it public that you're having a ménage à trois, everyone will talk about it. That gossip will only make your relationship sound even more outrageous. It could also provoke someone to attack you again."

She wanted to tell the other woman to get out of her house, but what she said was the same thing Caroline had been thinking. "All right, we'll keep our private life very private. Anything else?"

"Shaw is on his way back to the stronghold. He'll probably arrive in the next few days." The laird's wife hesitated before she said, "You've made it clear that you don't like him. We'll ask him to stay away from you, if you'll do the same with him."

"Thank you." She suppressed a shudder.

"I just wanted you to know that his situation is not his fault," Valerie said. "Slavers did that to him with some pretty dark magic when he was just a young boy."

Caroline grew uneasy. "They screwed with a kid like that?"

"Unfortunately, yes. In that time, no one lived much past thirty, so the Pritani regarded ten-year-olds as grown men. Some of the remaining tribes still do." She grimaced. "The chieftain has been fighting the effects of what they did to him ever since he came back to the clan. We hope someday to find a cure, but for now, all we can do is be supportive."

"He and your husband had the same mom, right? I guess that factored in when the laird decided it was okay for me to live here, too," Caroline said, and saw her flinch. "It's not a problem. I'd do the same for family. I'll also try my best to stay out of the man's way."

"Thank you for understanding." She gave her a genuine smile. "I hope someday you and I can become friends, but for now, please think of me as a friendly ally. If you need anything for your new home, just say the word." She winked. "The guy in charge here will do just about anything for me."

After Valerie left, Caroline went back to work, but she also thought a lot about what the other woman had said. The three of them were going to attract a lot of unwanted attention, which might cause problems for both men. What was supposed to be simple and easy was becoming even more complicated now. Then there was the whole deal with Shaw.

Why can't everyone mind their own business? This was why she'd always avoided making friends and joining groups, because people like Connal and Valerie thought they had the right to tell her what to do.

Yet even as she thought that, Caroline knew she was being unreasonable. The laird's wife had been careful and respectful, and considering both situations, she wasn't asking a lot. They had also let her finally move out of the castle. Now that Caroline had decided to stay in the twelfth century on this island, she needed to at least get along with the clan. That Connal had given her permission to live in this house for his brother's benefit needled her a little, but it still worked in her favor, too. He'd likely also asked his wife to talk to her.

So what if he did? I'm not the easiest person to talk to, and he has to keep the peace, even with me.

Caroline knew she needed to let go of the anger that had gripped her since Rich had left her to die. She'd said as much to Nyall and Jamaran at the maze, but the truth was she still burned with resentment. Valerie and everyone else who got in her way became targets because she hadn't coped with all the pent-up outrage.

She needed to finish this, tonight.

Walking over to the hearth, she removed the pearl stud earrings her partner had given her for her birthday, the final reminder she had of Rich. That had been their last date, when he'd taken her out for dinner and drinks on her birthday. When he'd tried to settle the bill his credit card had been declined, and he'd sheepishly admitted to being over his limit. Out of sympathy she'd paid for her own birthday meal. She had been truly surprised when he'd handed her the unwrapped box and promised to upgrade them to diamonds someday. Had he been thinking about killing her even then? she wondered.

She glanced down at the earrings, and then tossed them into the flames.

"I was good to you. Better than I've been to any man." Seeing the tiny pearls blackening in the fire made something tight and hard inside her melt away. "You decided to murder me just so you could keep treasure you didn't even have all to yourself. So, okay, it's done. I survived. Maybe you'll live a charmed life and die when you're ninety. Or maybe you'll spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder, unable to sleep through the night or trust anyone while you wait for the cops to find out what you did. I just don't care anymore."

When a charred piece of wood fell down and covered the pearls, she hoped she had buried her anger with them.

The sound of someone walking up to the cottage made her go to the door. When she opened it she expected to see Jamaran, but instead saw Nyall. He carried a big tartan under one arm and held a bundle of firewood wrapped in heavy cord. For once his hair, which he usually wore tied back, hung around his face, creating shadows that made his handsome features look almost dangerous. He looked at her for a long time before he placed the plaid and the wood on her doorstep.

"The nights, they're still cold. I'll send some vassals on the morrow so they may clean the old chimney." He started to turn away.

Someone else needed to deal with their anger, Caroline thought. Maybe she could help him with that.

"I need you more." That stopped him in his tracks. "Come on, don't go. You just got here, and it's my first official night in my own place."

Nyall's shoulders went rigid. "Doubtless Jamaran shall come later. You wished him come tonight, no' me."

"That's not true." She'd hurt him that much, Caroline realized, hating herself now for being such a bitch to him earlier. "He's not you. I want you."

Still he didn't move. "Take care, my lady. You dinnae ken what you ask."

"Don't I?" Caroline went to him, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his broad back. "I'm not asking you to marry me, or even like me. I just want to be with you. Can't you–"

Before she could finish what she was saying he pulled her hands apart, turned and lifted her off her feet to kiss her. With that he clearly showed her his desperation, anger, and all the things that had been simmering between them since she'd first kissed him on the cliff stairs. He kicked open the door to the cottage and carried her inside, falling with her onto the narrow bed, which groaned and shook under their combined weight.

He's finally letting go,Caroline thought, completely dazzled.

Nyall didn't give her time to take a breath as he straddled her and tore open her leine, filling his hands with her breasts as he watched her face. "'Tis what you want, so I shall give you all of me, then."

She'd never really let go with a lover before now; even when they had been with Jamaran she'd held back, afraid to surrender herself. "Okay, but that means I get to do the same."

Caroline didn't care if she ended up covered in bruises, but instead of being rough Nyall lavished her with wild passion. His hands moved over her as if she were an instrument and he was playing her, tugging on her nipples and squeezing her bottom and stroking her between her legs. His mouth never stopped kissing and licking and biting her, so hungry and relentless she nearly came as he ravished her breasts. At some point he got them both naked, and then drew her up on her knees, lifting her off the mattress to position her over his cock, and then shoving her down, filling her with one savage, gorgeous stroke.

She dragged her nails down his back as he bit her shoulder, her body practically gushing with her arousal.

"Don't you dare stop," she murmured against his ear.

Nyall made a guttural sound as he started pumping in and out of her, first pressing her against the wall by the bed and then dropping her on her back. He hooked her legs over his shoulders as he pressed deeper, thrusting so hard now she came almost helplessly around his rampant shaft. He muttered against her mouth, urging her on even as he fucked her, and she twisted her fingers in his thick hair as she met every hard, plunging stroke.

Delight swelled in her again as she saw the tautness of his expression, and reached down to gently stroke her fingers over his balls. She clasped them as they tightened, her own climax overtaking her as he jerked out of her and stroked his cock, spilling his seed over her breasts and belly in long, thick streams. It was such a primitive thing to do, as if he wanted to mark her with his scent and fluids as she shook with the pleasure he'd given her.

He stretched out beside her, and rubbed his hand over her body while she came down and quieted. When she turned to him he gave her a whisper of a kiss and then smiled.

"How long have you wanted to do that to me?" Caroline murmured.

He brushed his thumb along her jaw line. "Since you kissed me the first time, you brazen wench. Again when you fell asleep in my arms, and every time since you've looked upon me." He moved his hand to her breast, caressing the dark pink patches his mouth had left on it. "I've never wanted a woman as much."

"I almost jumped you when I woke up in your bed, you know," she told him as she cuddled closer. "It's why I was so crabby that day. I had you right where I wanted you, but you handed me off to Valerie again."

He grunted. "'Tisnae seemly, to fack only an hour after meeting."

"Who cares? Wait, you're not leaving," she said as he climbed off her and got to his feet, and then saw who was standing a few feet away. "Hello there, Commander. Did you enjoy the show?"

"Aye." Jamaran stood leaning against the door, watching her with an enigmatic expression. "Shall I remain, or leave you two alone together?"

"Don't you dare go," Caroline said, just as Nyall said, "Stay."

The commander nodded, and went to add some wood to the fire before he came to the bed side and looked down at her. "Mayhap you should rest a bit."

"Mayhap you should get naked." She glanced over at Nyall, who had pulled on his trews but left them unlaced, and smiled. "I think someone wants you to return the favor."