Chapter 8

"Call for August," the elder among them commanded one of the guards. The man immediately obeyed and entered the tent which Bran had just pointed out as Mahala housing.

Idalia laid a hand on Bran's arm to still him. "That is the lad with our message," she whispered.

Bran's brows arched and his body tensed. He sat crouched, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. "Are ye certain?"

"I am."

"That means they ken the truth about our plan."

"I did not say you helped me in the letter," Idalia reminded him.

"Nae, but August will ken the truth o' it nevertheless." Bran fell silent as August emerged from the tent.

"What is this?" August demanded to know as he came to stand in front of the men.

"The lass escaped." The elder of the men pulled forth the letter that Idalia had written to Tor for help. He unfolded the letter, its wax seal had already been broken, and handed it to August. "It appears Bran helped her."

August read the letter, then crumpled it in his fist. Even from their position in the edge of the woods, Idalia could make out the anger on his face from the fire's light. He scanned the encampment with his eyes and Idalia slunk back further into the shadows, afraid that he would see her. "They are here. Find them," he commanded, sending his men scurrying to the edges of the encampment.

"And what of the girl?" one of the guards stepped forward to ask. "You told Bran you would kill her if he failed."

August backhanded the guard across the face. "Do not dare do anything to her unless I say so. I have no intention of hurting the last of my sister's blood. Go, find Bran MacLeod and kill him and bring me back Idalia Buckland. Go, now!" He shouted this last with a manic voice, as if the man could not move fast enough to please him.

"We must go," Idalia whispered frantically to Bran as she clutched at his sleeve. "You heard him. He means to have you killed and me to be his, no matter the consequences. Mahala is safe. He will not harm her, but if we do not leave now, you will not live long enough to see her ever again."

"I cannae leave her," he choked on the anger and passion in his voice.

"If you remain here, you will leave her in a much more permanent manner. If you leave now, you can return to save her later. If you remain, there will never be a later. She will remain with August Raymond to the end of her days."

Bran turned his pain-filled eyes to meet hers. "Ye ask the impossible o' me."

Idalia shook her head. "I only ask you to live long enough to kill that bastard so that you can free your daughter when the time is right."

The harshness of her language caught his attention. "I do ever so wish tae kill the bastard."

"Then run with me now," Idalia more commanded than begged. "Come with me now, and I will help you kill him myself."

Giving one last longing look at the tent holding his daughter, Bran took Idalia by the hand. Men were running toward their position. In mere moments they would be discovered, and all would be over for them both. "Climb on tae my horse," he commanded. Idalia quickly obeyed. Bran swung up behind her and sank his heels into the horse's side. Together, they raced through the darkness, north, toward home.

* * *

"What about the lad who was to deliver our message?" Idalia asked as the horse raced across the uneven ground.

"August will release him after he has questioned him. It would nae do for him tae make enemies o' the local citizenry. The lad will be unharmed."

"Should we not tell his father he has been captured?"

Bran shook his head. "Once August has questioned the lad, he will immediately send men to the village. We should avoid it if we dinnae wish tae be caught."

"They will suspect we will run to Orkney or Strathnaver for help."

"August kens that I would never leave Mahala alone with him for very long. Let us pray he does nae think tae look for us further north until after we have arrived home."

They rode until the horse could go no further. "The horse need rest. We have nay choice but tae stop." Dawn had long since come and gone, and the midday sun beat down upon their heads. Bran stopped at the edge of a stream and let the horse get a drink of water, then tied it to a tree to graze. "We will need to find food for ourselves soon."

He dipped his hand in the stream and pulled forth water for Idalia to drink. He held his hands to her lips and tilted them upwards to let the cool clear liquid flow into her mouth. Their eyes met over the top of his hands and held. A strange feeling curled around Bran's insides, causing his heart to beat faster. What he saw in her eyes was mesmerizing. He found he could not look away to save himself.

"Thank you," she murmured, her lips brushing his fingers as she spoke.

Desire coursed through Bran's body like a lightning bolt straight to the groin. His body hardened in response to her touch as if he were an untried lad. Taking the pad of his thumb, he brushed the droplets of water from her chin. Her mouth opened in response, and her breath warmed the tips of his fingers. "Idalia," he breathed her name as if it were a prayer.

She sighed, her lip quivering beneath his touch. He leaned in as if to kiss her, but she turned her head, blushing as she did so. She was the first to look away, breaking their held gaze. "Are you certain we are safe here?" she asked, changing the subject.

"As certain as I can be, given the circumstances. We will nae stay long. We must keep moving if we wish tae remain ahead o' August's men." Sighing, Bran moved away from her to search the nearby forest for something to eat. He came back with a small collection of nuts, berries, and edible fungi. They sat together eating in silence for the few moments their food lasted, then they returned to staring at one another, not certain what to do next. The horse was not quite ready to move on just yet.

"Teach me to fight," Idalia requested, suddenly breaking the silence.

"I taught ye tae use a blade. Ye learned quickly."

Idalia shook her head. "I want to learn more than that. I need to know more than how to plunge a blade into a man's kidneys once he is already on top of me. I need to know how to defend myself so that he is never allowed to be on top of me to begin with."

Bran admired her will to learn. He agreed with her that such a skill would be useful for all women. "That is fair." Standing from the fallen tree trunk they had been sitting on, he faced her. "Arise and come at me."

Idalia stood and charged at him as instructed. Bran sidestepped her and delivered a gentle tap to her kidneys. He did not hurt her, but it was enough to get the point across. Her eyes sparked with determination. "Come at me," she commanded, her stance ready for him.

Bran smiled wickedly and came at her. She tried to sidestep him as he had done her, but Bran's arms were far longer than hers and he was able to scoop her up before she could maneuver around to deliver her own blow. Laughing, he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her back to her original starting point. He set her down on the ground and was met by fiery eyes glaring up at him. "Again," he instructed, and returned to his own position.

Idalia came at him again, this time dropping to the ground below him to avoid his long arms and coming up behind him to deliver a tap to his kidney region. "Was picking me up necessary?" she asked him, slightly out of breath from her exertions.

"It gave ye the fight tae defeat me, did it nae?"

She stood thinking for a moment, then nodded slowly. "It did."

"Another?" he questioned.

She nodded. "Another."

Bran taught her several more moves before he called an end to their training, as the horse was once again ready to move on. He admired her ability to learn swiftly. Every time her body brushed against his, his body reacted instantly with desire for her. It had been a long time since he had lain with a woman. August provided all of his men with women to warm their beds, but Bran had never wished to participate in such activities. Any woman August chose could not be trusted, nor was Bran willing to risk that any of them might be providing companionship under duress. He had never in his life taken a woman against her will in that way and he was not about to start now.

Mounting the horse, they continued northward. Having Idalia riding between his legs, her body pressed up against his own, did not help matters any. He did not want to desire her. He tried everything in his power to resist his feelings for her. They were fleeing for their lives, he had been forced to leave his daughter in the hands of her uncle, and yet here he was, lusting after the woman he had kidnapped to save her. Ye have nae soul left tae ye, Bran MacLeod. Ashamed of himself, he attempted to put some distance between their bodies, to no avail. There was only so much room on the back of a horse.

They had ridden until just before nightfall when they came to a small clearing in the woods, with a cottage in the center of it. As it was still daylight, Bran rode up to the dooryard and dismounted. A dog barked a warning as they entered the yard, and a man stuck his head out of the door. Seeing them, he stepped out into the yard, his blade in hand. "Stay as ye are," the man instructed, his tone one of warning.

Bran questioned how much to tell the man who stood before them, but Idalia must have thought him trustworthy for she spoke before he did. "Please, we are in need of shelter."

The man studied them closely. Bran knew they must look a sight with their torn clothes. Bran's were still stained with the blood from his head wound. "What brings ye here?"

"We are running from an evil man who wishes us harm," Idalia answered honestly. "We are simply trying to return home."

The man's brows rose in surprise. "Ye do look as if ye have been in a fight for yer lives. Who is this man that ye fear?"

"He is a Romani leader by the name of August Raymond."

"Romani, ye say?" He eyed Idalia suspiciously. "Ye are nae from around here. Ye gypsy as well?"

Bran's body tensed in readiness should the man decide them harm. He did not believe August's influence had spread this far from the encampment, but he could not be certain. "Aye," he nodded in answer. "The lass is Romani, and she is under me protection."

"And who might ye be when ye are at home?" the man asked of Bran, turning his gaze to him.

"Bran MacLeod o' the Clan Leoideach o' Orkney."

The man's brows arose in surprise once more. "Ye are a fair distance from home."

"Aye," Bran sighed, "too far, for too long."

The man nodded, lowering his blade. "Dismount and we will speak further while ye eat." He led them into the house, where they were met by his wife and children. "This is my wife Deirdre and our eldest son Samuel. That over there is our daughter Anne. Our youngest son, Hezekiah, is feeling poorly so will nae be joining us for supper. All Bible names, ye ken. We thought if we named them after those in the good book that God would be more inclined tae look after them. We have been praying for our youngest all o' the day, but he has made nae sign o' recovery."

Idalia smiled and nodded to each of them in turn. Bran liked it when she smiled and wished she had more cause to do so. "Do you mind if I see the boy?" Idalia asked, confusing all present. "My mother was a healer among our people. She taught me much."

A light went on in the man's eyes and he nodded. "Aye, lass. We would be most grateful."

Idalia and Bran followed him to a room at the back of the house, where a little boy lay on a pallet in the corner. He was coughing uncontrollably. His face was pale and drawn. His breath came in wheezes. "How long has he been like this?"

"Since yesterday."

"Was there anything that seemed to cause the coughing to begin?"

"He began his apprenticeship with the village blacksmith. They said he became quite ill when the blacksmith's shop filled with smoke. He has nae stopped coughing since. I was about tae go tae leave for the holy well tae fetch back a cure for him from the waters. Can ye help him, lassie?"

Idalia nodded. "I believe that I can. I will need some herbs."

"I will get ye what ye need," the boy's father promised.

"I need mint, balm, thyme, wild marjoram, rosemary, honey, garlic, horehound…" She continued to name various other herbs she would need to treat the boy.

Bran stood and listened in wonder at her knowledge of medicinal herbs. He had previously thought her to be a selfish woman, reckless with her own life. But she had managed to prove him wrong at every turn since then. She had shown kindness to him even when he did not deserve it. She had stayed to help him save his daughter, even when it would have been safer for her to return home without him. Now, she was helping the child of a total stranger simply because she could do so. And she had saved a mouse, a small yet significant sign.

The boy's father returned to the kitchen and informed his wife of everything that Idalia would need to prepare her treatment. "What is wrong with the lad?" Bran asked, coming to stand beside her as she knelt to run her fingers over his brow.

"I have seen this before. Some people become quite ill when near smoke or other smells in the air, or when over excited. I will make him a tea that should help to ease his breathing. I will also make him a poultice for his chest that will help."

"It is kind o' ye tae help these people."

She shook her head. "Where there is knowledge, there is a duty. That is what my mother always said." A sadness came over her that touched Bran's heart. He stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"I am sorry for yer loss."

"Alistair Morgan took much from us. We never would have been there to begin with if it had not been for August Raymond."

"Both men have much to answer for," Bran agreed.

"Both men deserve to die." Her eyes were hard when she spoke, as if she were picturing driving the blade into each man's heart with her own hands.

"Aye, I would agree with that. We dinnae ken what befell Morgan, but we can certainly kill August Raymond given the right number o' men at our backs."

"That will be the day when I will dance once more. That is what we were doing when the men came and slaughtered my entire family. We were dancing in celebration at escaping the clutches of August Raymond."

Bran's heart went out to her. He wished he could take the pain from her eyes. "I am sorry, lass. I wish I could have been there tae help ye."

"You were, later. If it had not been for you, I would have been taken by August Raymond from Morgan's prison, and my sister Leonor would have died. Katarina would not have found us and taken us to live with her and her Dunn. We would never have been a family again. You saved me from an unthinkable fate. You saved me from losing what was left my family. I thank you for that."

"I am only sorry that I forced ye in tae the situation we now find ourselves in."

Idalia shook her head. "You felt you had no other choice. I can understand that. It does not make what you did right, but it does help me to forgive you."

Bran held her eyes for a moment, lost in their dark depths. "Will ye never cease tae surprise me?"

"I doubt it." She gave him a brief smile before their host returned with the required medicinal herbs.

Idalia set to work mixing and grinding, steeping and packing together all of the various ingredients she needed for her concoctions. Bran stood by in awe and watched her work, along with the boy's parents. When she was done, she placed the poultice on the boy's chest, smearing some on his throat, then she had him drink the tea she had made. In a short time, the boy's breathing began to come a bit easier.

"We thank ye," the boy's parents exclaimed as the coughing lessoned and some of the boy's color began to return to his cheeks.

"Make this for him no less than three times a day. Leave this poultice on his chest at night. Once he has fully recovered, I recommend keeping these herbs in your house at all times for when he has another coughing spell, or when his breathing becomes labored. When it does, do as you saw me do, mix the ingredients just so, and give them to him as I have instructed."

The boy's parents nodded vigorously in agreement. "We will," his mother promised. "Please, come. We have prepared a place for ye both tae rest. Ye are married, aye? We only have the one room. If ye are nae married or brother and sister, then yer man will have tae sleep outside."

Without skipping a beat Idalia lied. "We are married."

"I thought so," Deirdre smiled. "I can always tell. It is the love in the eyes, ye ken."

Bran and Idalia shared a look. Idalia's cheeks turned pink, but she hid it by turning away and following the woman to a loft space above the main house. Herbs were strung up in the rafters and foods were stored in bags and barrels across the floor and against the wall. A pallet had been prepared for them on the floor.

"We thank ye for yer hospitality," Bran murmured, nodding in gratitude.

"Ye will be safe here. Dinnae fash. My husband will protect ye. Rest well." She left a candle for them burning on a side table, then descended the ladder to the main house below.

Bran looked around their temporary abode and nodded in approval. "This will do nicely."

Idalia agreed, nodding.

They both stood staring at the single bed on the floor in silence for a moment. Bran was the first to speak. "Ye are a good liar."

"Thank you," Idalia replied as if he had paid her a compliment on her beauty.

"In that, ye are and yer eldest sister are quite alike."

Idalia nodded. "It is a necessary skill when one lives on the road traveling from place to place. The truth can be a very dangerous thing at times."

Bran studied her face for a moment. "I can agree with that."

"I only use such a skill when it is necessary. Too much lying and to the wrong people can cause harm."

"Aye, that is also true. Ye are a wonder tae me, Idalia Buckland."

Idalia smiled. "Shall we sleep? Tomorrow is another long day."

"Aye," Bran agreed and motioned for her to go ahead and get settled on the pallet. Once she was comfortable, he lay down beside her careful not to touch her. He did not trust himself when in such close proximity to her. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and kiss her. She had amazed him, made him want her more than he had ever wanted any other woman. She was special in ways he did not even understand, but he longed to know more about her. "Ye were good with the lad. Ye will make a good mother."

"I do not wish to have children."

"Ye dinnae wish tae have bairns o' yer own?" he asked in disbelief.

She shook her head. "I do not."

"Forgive me for asking this, lass, but why?"

"I have lost too much that I love. I could not bear to lose another person. If I had a child, then it would be in my heart always, and if anything ever happened to it, I would die along with it. I am not willing to commit my heart to another person. My sisters are all that I have left in this world, and they are all I need."

"What o' a husband? Most men want children tae carry on their blood."

"I do not to wish to marry."

"What do ye wish tae do?" He had never met a lass who did not wish to wed or have children before. Idalia was turning out to be a complete mystery to him.

"I wish to live out my days in the way of my people, but August Raymond has made that impossible."

"If August Raymond were nae more?"

Idalia sighed wistfully. "I would rejoice at such a day."

"As would I."

They lay there in silence for a time, each thinking of a more peaceful time before August Raymond had entered their lives. An image of Mahala's mother flashed through his mind, but he pushed it away. She was gone. She had been gone a long time. She had rejected him and left their daughter with a mad man. It was time that he let her go in his mind as he had long since done in his heart.

"We should sleep," he advised, wishing to put all such thoughts from his mind.

He felt her shift beside him, rolling over onto her side facing away from him. "Rest well," she murmured softly, then silence fell once more.

Bran lay there in the darkness and listened to Idalia breathing, soft and quiet. Her warmth radiated toward him in a comforting way that wrapped its tendrils around his body, seeping into his heart. He let his muscles relax, his body conforming to the floorboards beneath their pallet. The pain in his head throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

His mind turned back to Mahala, left alone without his protection back in the Romani encampment. It had turned out that August was not willing to act on the threat he had made against her. For that, Bran was greatly relieved, but he had no certain way to trust that such a thing would go on forever. He prayed it would at least last long enough for him to find a way to free her from August's grasp.

Idalia sighed softly and his mind returned back to the woman lying next to him. She had been through a great deal and yet, in spite of his abducting her with the intent to turn her over to August Raymond, she had still cared enough to help him. She had cared more for his safety than her own.

She is a lass o' exceptional abilities. I am beginning tae understand why August Raymond is drawn tae her. Any man would be after seeing what she did this night with that wee lad. She appears tae have saved his life. Any man who believes she is his will nae be willing tae let her go. August will ne'er let her go, and I was a fool tae believe he would. I should have kenned it was she he sought and nae another. If I am being honest with myself, it would nae made any difference if I had kenned it was she that I was tae take. The threat tae Mahala still would have held more sway than any other prior loyalties.

Returning home was not going to be easy. He had spent nearly his entire life in Orkney serving his laird. Now, he would be returning after he had been gone for more than a year and had abducted Idalia. There was no possibility of being welcomed back without doing some extensive explaining. I may never be allowed tae return.