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Chapter 6

6

B essetta had returned from her watch, having seen nothing, and Alasdair—as a wolf—was taking another turn observing the cliffs.

Hans and a dozen of their men had taken off to check out the village where the villagers they had freed resided to see if it was safe for them to return home.

Other wolves from Alasdair’s pack would come throughout the day to watch from the cliffs, but if they didn’t see anyone on the beach by midday, Alasdair figured it would mean he’d only thought he’d seen another longship, and there had been nothing to it.

When he drew close to the cliff's edge, he heard a rock falling down the rock face close to the top. He couldn’t imagine rocks falling for no apparent reason if they had been experiencing a land lash, strong winds, or punishing rain—mayhap. The other possibility? Someone was climbing to the top.

He peered over the edge and saw a golden-haired woman climbing up the rock face. His heart nearly gave out. She bewitched him, her hair partly hanging loose and some in braids.

She fascinated him not only because of her blond locks but also because of her garments—deer hides fashioned into trewes and a tunic, and leather belts that showed off her slim figure and leather boots trimmed with fur.

She was a Norsewoman, he was certain. And she was the one who had so deftly killed the Viking watchman on the beach who had been guarding the longships. Everything about her intrigued him.

He wondered if her longship had broken up on the rocks, and she had swum to shore, dried out, and was now trying to reach the top of the cliffs so she could find food and shelter. But what about the lad who had been with her?

She appeared to be alone and wouldn’t pose any threat to him or his pack members unless others of her kind came to rescue her. Though he could see she was armed with a sword and probably a dagger hidden in her boot.

She suddenly looked up as if she realized someone was watching her. He ducked away from the edge. He didn’t want to scare her if she should see a wolf watching her, and she worried he would attack her. Though he wouldn’t.

He wanted to watch her progress and help her should she have trouble, but he couldn’t as a wolf. If he shifted, how would that look? A naked Scotsman coming to pull her up on top of the cliffs? She would be terrified.

He tore off into the nearby woods so when she crested the cliff, he wouldn’t be seen as a threat. He strained to listen for sounds that said she was still climbing the cliff. He was dying to know if she was near the top.

He wasn’t sure what he would do after she reached the top. He guessed he would follow her wherever she went and stay out of her line of sight. He wouldn’t howl to alert the others. Not since there was only one of her.

She finally reached the top but didn’t climb the rest of the way. She just peered around at the scenery, the mountains in the distance, the forest, the loch while he watched her and waited. He assumed she was afraid to reveal herself, but no one was about. She didn’t climb to the top of the cliffs. What was she waiting for?

Then to his surprise, she disappeared below the edge of the cliffs. No way could she be climbing back down to the beach below. What if she had been the scout? And others were hiding down below, and Alasdair hadn’t seen them?

He ran toward the cliffs, and when he reached them, he slowly peered over the edge. He saw the top of her head as she continued to make her way down the cliffs. Others, or maybe just the lad she’d been with, had to be hiding down below somewhere, though he couldn’t imagine where. Unless…there were caves down there? None of his people had ever climbed down there. There hadn’t been any reason to.

Still, he didn’t howl, wanting to see where she was going once she reached the bottom of the cliffs. He was amazed at how agile and strong she was. That was a long climb to make.

He lay down, keeping a low profile, peering over the edge. She didn’t look up while descending; she was too busy keeping her footing. Once she was down, he backed off, afraid she would look up. Then he heard her running across the rocky shore, and he moved to the edge again, staying low, peering down.

He expected to see a whole bunch of Viking men coming to greet her, though he wondered why they wouldn’t send one to climb up the cliffs instead of one of their women. Though Alasdair knew their women fought as ferociously as the men.

She paused near the water’s edge, and he anticipated she would glance back at the cliff to make sure no one was watching her, which she did. He ducked out of sight, hoping she hadn’t seen his head. She might have thought he was a villager’s dog and would warn the villagers she was there.

He finally chanced looking over the cliff again, but she was gone.

“Well?” Conall asked. “What did you see, Isobel?”

“Forests, a loch off in the distance. It’s a strenuous climb, and I think you and I should go if Elene is all right with it, and she can stay with the younger ones,” Isobel said.

Conall was all for it, but Elene was quiet.

“I want to go,” Drummond said.

“Nay. You stay with your little sister. You’ll both come with us once we scout around and learn what we can.” Isobel glanced at Elene. “What do you think?”

She had to remember that Elene was from this land, and she would know the people and their customs better than Isobel and her kin would.

“I believe I should go with you or with Conall, should you choose to stay with the wee ones. I’m a Scot, and they’ll know it. I can do all the speaking for us. But we could also run into danger. Like your people, mine also have clan fights, so we willna know which clans are in this area and if they are friend or foe of my people.”

Conall looked ready to object but said, “I’ll stay behind. As much as I dinna want to, my brother and my sister are my responsibility, and two women may no’ be seen as much of a threat. They would be wrong, but they wouldna know it.”

“You saw no one up there?” Elene asked Isobel.

“The forest was alive with the songs of birds, but there was no sign of human life. We’ll take our bows and see if we can find something to eat, and then we’ll fill our waterskins at the nearby loch."

Elene frowned. “Are you sure the others will be safe?”

“ Ja. While we’re gone, you three gather more wood and put it into the cave. I smell rain in the air, and we need all the dry wood we can find. Hopefully, we’ll also find something to eat,” Isobel said. “Are you ready, Elene?”

“Aye, let’s go.”

Then the two women left the cave and ran across the beach to the cliffs as fast as they could go. Elene was also wearing trewes instead of a kirtle, which the women wore. They had taken Isobel’s parents and her aunt’s clothing for warmth and to change into when they were too wet.

At one point, Isobel swore she saw a wolf peering over the cliff at them, but it was gone so quickly that she had to have been mistaken. The first time up the cliffs had been wearying, but she was getting winded the second time.

Elene was doing well, and Isobel was glad about that. They worked hard in the clan, so they were in good shape, not to mention all the rowing they had done for weeks at sea whenever they were becalmed.

When they finally reached the top, Isobel peered over first, and seeing that the way was clear, she climbed up on top. Then she helped Elene the rest of the way, and the two raced across the meadow grasses to the safety of the forest. But she was surprised to smell a wolf had been there—a male wolf—watching them at the cliff’s edge.

“Do you smell a male wolf?” she asked Elene, whispering the words.

“Aye. One of our kind? Or a real wolf?”

“I dinna know.” Wolves could be territorial, either kind. Isobel was surprised. If their kind lived in the area—Scots’ wolf shifters, not Norse wolf shifters—would they be more receptive to taking them in? Or would they want to eliminate them, fearing they were here to fight them for their land? Or steal from them?

As soon as they reached the woods, Isobel felt they were being watched. She looked around but didn’t see anyone, and her skin prickled with unease.

“Do you sense it, too?” Elene asked. “That we are being watched?”

“Aye.” That’s when Isobel saw a wolf and then another. Gray wolves suddenly surrounded them. Isobel and Elene didn’t dare ready their bows. There were too many wolves. All Isobel thought about was poor Conall and her young cousins and how they had led them into a trap.

One of the wolves suddenly shifted into a tall man—with glorious dark brown hair, a beard, and dark brown eyes, and the rest of him was well-muscled. He appeared to be a warrior, and he was truly beautiful to look at. And then she realized where she’d seen him before. He and his men had killed the other guard watching the longships and set them ablaze, setting the hostages free also.

Isobel and Conall hadn’t stuck around to see them set fire to the ships, only that this man had killed the guard before she and Conall made their way around the rocks and swam back to their cave. They’d seen the orange flames as they glanced back when they reached the second beach though.

She should have been alarmed to see him naked before her, but she was— impressed . He was looking at Elene, and Isobel chanced to look at his remarkable staff, but when her gaze returned to his face, she saw he was looking her straight in the eye, a small smile settling on his lips. She was blushing, her face afire.

“I am Alasdair, these are my pack members, and you are wolves trespassing on our land. Who are you, and what do you want?”

Isobel’s mouth gaped. He was the pack leader? She thought he would want to kill her right there, but he seemed—reasonable—at least for now.

“We mean no one any harm,” Elene quickly said. “We were slaves of an Icelandic clan and escaped from there, traveling for weeks to get here.”

“You are a Scot.” Alasdair sounded surprised.

“Aye. The Norsemen killed my family. I dinna know if any of the rest of the pack survived,” Elene said, tears filling her eyes.

It was the first time Isobel had seen Elene shed tears and she wanted to hug her and comfort her when the man called Alasdair said, “You are welcome to join us. Where is your longship?”

Isobel nervously chewed on her bottom lip. She hesitated to mention their longship or her cousins, worried that these men may not have their best intentions in mind.

“We were shipwrecked,” Elene hastily said, and Isobel was glad she was such a quick thinker.

“Oh?” Alasdair sounded like he didn’t believe her. “Is anyone else waiting below the cliffs for you? A lad, mayhap?”

“Nay,” Isobel said too ferociously and with her Icelandic accent. She shouldn’t have said anything like Elene had told her not to. But then she realized her mistake. Alasdair had killed the other guard, and with his wolf’s night vision, he must have seen her and Connal near the longship.

“Just the two of us made it to shore,” Elene said.

“Who else was with you? More slaves of the Icelanders that chanced to escape?” He sounded like he didn’t believe her.

Isobel didn’t think that sounded believable either, but she waited for Elene to say something further.

“You couldna have manned a longship all that time, just the two of you, and they wouldna have brought you to our lands, risking your escape.” Alasdair took a deep breath and let it out as if he would let them off at their word—at least for the time being.

Elene swallowed hard.

“Come, we will feed you and provide you shelter, and you can tell us more about your people.” But he continued to eye Isobel with suspicion, and she knew she shouldn’t have spoken a word.

Isobel would have to, though, when they questioned them further. She couldn’t pretend to be a mute. It was too late to use that scenario as a ruse.

Then Alasdair shifted into his wolf and motioned with his head for the others to take the women with them.

At least Alasdair hadn’t shifted and then disarmed them. That made her feel safer. Until a wolf howled from behind her, and more wolves howled beyond the forests and the loch. How many were there?

She quickly looked around, expecting Alasdair to be trailing close behind them, making sure they didn't attempt a foolish escape. It would have been unwise for both her and Elene to try.

They had nowhere else to go, and if they had climbed back down the cliffs, these men would have learned who else was down there and found the longship and their supplies. Isobel and her companions would have lost everything.

She thought Alasdair would lead the way. Then again, her father had told her that he followed behind their small wolf pack when they were traveling to ensure no one was left behind.

But Alasdair had disappeared into the woods.

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