Chapter 7

7

A lasdair howled for his men at the keep to bring his clothes with them to the cliffs. He and a few of his men would descend the cliffs and learn how many Vikings were down there while the others would take the two women back to their castle.

He couldn’t believe the women were wolves, and he knew they hadn’t come alone—not when he had seen the lad with the Icelandic woman. If they were correct in saying they were the only two who had survived a shipwreck, maybe there were three of them, which was possible but unlikely. He suspected they were protecting the lad.

He was certain he would also see some remnants from a shipwreck. The woman who fought the guard wore a bloodied cloth around her arm. They were carrying several water pouches, and he suspected they had planned to fill them with water from the loch to return to the others down below.

They were also carrying bows, arrows, and sgian dubhs so he assumed they had planned to hunt for food.

The one woman was most likely a Scotswoman, dark-haired, dark-eyed, very pretty. She was the one doing most of the talking until the other was afraid that he and his men would check the shore for other “survivors” of a shipwreck and spoke up.

He had to find the lad and ensure there were no others. The other woman, with beautiful blue eyes and golden hair, was an Icelander. He was certain of it. Unless she’d been captured when she was very young, and her language had been influenced greatly by the Icelanders who had raised her.

As soon as his men rode to him on horses, bringing his own with them along with his clothes, he shifted, dressed in his tunic, brat, and boots, securing his belt, sword, and sgian dubh , and mounted the horse. Then they rode from the forest to the cliff’s edge.

When they reached it, he and the others dismounted. He peered over the edge, and this time, he saw a young man and two children gathering firewood. The young man looked like the one who had been with the lass who had killed the guard on the beach.

The youngest wore a brown kirtle, leather shoes, and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders—she was a young lassie.

The other was a lad who looked to be about the same age as the lass. He wore a gray tunic and trewes and ran barefoot in the sand on the warm summer’s morn. The older lad was tall but not well-muscled yet, his tunic a muted green while his breeches were tan, and he was ordering the young ones about.

“You missed a few sticks over there,” the older boy told the younger lad.

Alasdair couldn’t believe it. Could the five of them have made it all that way from Iceland on their own? Grown men had to be with them to make that long, hard journey.

Armed with swords, Alasdair and five of his men began the climb down the cliffs. They would use ropes to bring the children up. The younger ones couldn’t make the ascent on their own.

The three of them had been caught unawares as Alasdair and his men descended with swift, practiced movements. Once they reached the beach, Alasdair's feet slipped on the loose rocks beneath them.

But then the lads and lassie disappeared, vanishing into thin air as they ran past a seemingly solid rock wall like the golden-haired woman had before. Alasdair realized there had to be a hidden cave there.

Alasdair and his companions followed, their hearts beating a frantic rhythm. Climbing around the cliff, they found a narrow cave entrance, invisible from the rocky cliffside, where they observed the ocean for signs of trouble.

They stayed there, not showing themselves to whoever was in the cave, just in case they were attacked, not by the two lads and the lassie but by warriors who could be inside the cave just waiting for them.

At first, he thought maybe the women were the only two who were wolves, but he smelled the older lad, and two children had left their scents on the beach and were also wolves. Erik and his kin were Icelandic wolves, but he had never met her. But Alasdair still wondered if more were inside, waiting to fight him. Yet he didn’t smell any sign of others.

“Come on out. “We mean you no harm. We will take you in, feed you, and provide you shelter and clothes. We have taken the women back to our keep to feed them,” Alasdair said. “The young ones canna climb the cliffs on their own. The women willna return for you. We are sheltering them at the castle. You must come with us.”

No one answered. He thought they might be so scared that they wouldn’t come out on their own.

Alasdair needed to do this alone to gain their trust. He said to his men, “Stay back.”

“Are you sure?” Hans asked.

“Aye. I dinna smell any sign of anyone else but the young ones. They’re afraid to come out.” He moved into the cave, the darkness enveloping him like a heavy cloak, though he could see in the dark.

Coming out of the back of the cave, the older lad finally approached him, brandishing a sword and shield, a fierce expression on his determined face. His shirt and trewes were stiff with sea salt, and his blond hair was long, partially braided, and tangled. He would protect the younger ones with all his might.

Liking the boy at once, Alasdair smiled. “We are wolves like you. If you are a well-trained warrior, but most of all, a hunter and a farmer, we can use you in our pack.”

Still gripping the shield and sword at the ready, the lad’s jaw dropped as he stared at him in surprise, frozen in his stance.

“I’m Alasdair, the leader of the pack. Our pack is thirty wolves strong. And you are?”

“Thirty?” His blue eyes widened, and the lad looked even more shocked.

“Aye.”

The lad stood straighter. “I’m Bodolf.”

Viking for wolf leader. They were Vikings.

“I mean…” Bodolf hesitated. “Conall.”

Alasdair opened his mouth but then nodded. Gaelic for wolf. He was a Viking. “And the others?”

“My sister, Libby, and her twin brother, Drummond.” Conall ducked back into the depths of the dark cave and had to usher them out, holding the girl’s hand, her eyes as blue and wide as her brothers. Conall was still holding his sword, but he’d let go of his shield so he couldn’t hold the younger sister’s hand. Drummond looked like he wished Conall would hold his hand, too, as he stuck to his side.

Drummond looked like the spitting image of his older brother, except younger.

Their weapons were ready, and Alasdair and some of his men investigated the cave. The air grew colder and more damp. It smelled of salt and seaweed. They didn’t smell anyone else in the cave besides the two women, the lad, and the two children. Reassured that they were the only ones here, Alasdair and his men sheathed their swords.

A seaworthy longship with a carved wooden dragon at the prow led the way. It creaked as it rocked gently in the currents moving in and out of the cave, which surprised Alasdair, given how dangerous it was to navigate the narrow passage between the breakers and into the cave.

Deeper in the cave, they found an array of treasures—furs for warmth, finely crafted clothes, sturdy tools, a brazier for fire, and weapons fit for warriors.

Alasdair couldn’t believe they had made it across the open ocean all the way here in the small longship—just the five of them, and two so young, he assumed they would not have been very much help.

Together, they emerged from the cave, the children now in the safety of Alasdair's men.

“We’ll leave the longship here if you need it at some point, but we’ll bring your supplies so you can use them while you stay with us.” Alasdair wanted them to know they were free to stay with the pack or leave as they wished. They didn’t take slaves or force wolves to join them.

“This is my brother Hans, who is my second in command. And Rory, who is with the women, is my other brother. We also have a sister, Bessetta, who’ll help look after your needs. Let’s get you up the cliffs.” Alasdair had the men carry their supplies to the cliffs, and while they hauled them up, they made a harness for the younger lad first.

Conall remained with his sister while their brother was taken away, appearing uncertain about what to do. Conall didn't seem willing to leave his sister alone with the strangers, nor did he want to be separated from his brother. Alasdair fully understood how he felt.

“We can take your sister up now, and you can climb on your own, aye?” Alasdair asked.

“ Ja. Aye.”

They had learned to speak Scots well, and Alasdair wondered if it was because the one Scotswoman had been a slave and had taught them their language. That would make it easier for them to understand each other in the pack. As long as they didn’t cause trouble for his clan, he welcomed them to become productive members of the pack.

After they managed to bring all the children to the top of the cliff, each one rode with one of his men and headed back to the keep.

“So tell me, how did you come to be here?” Alasdair asked. “The women didna tell us their names. How are they related to you?”

Conall hesitated to say at first. Then he let out his breath. “Elene was a captured slave. And Isobel is our cousin. Our da was her uncle.”

Conall explained all that had happened—his father attempting to kill the chieftain with the support of others who hated Funi, but then they turned on his father and killed him instead.

“I’m sorry to hear it, lad,” Alasdair said.

“My mother and Isobel’s mother and father had died while fighting earlier clan battles.”

“How long ago?” Alasdair asked, wondering if their losses were recent.

“Four summers ago. All were killed in the same battle. Isobel was fifteen and raised us as if she were our mother. Even though we are cousins, she was always there for us like a mother would be. If she hadna had overheard what my da planned to do and planned to save us, none of us would be alive today.” Conall spoke with pride of his cousin.

Alasdair deeply admired Isobel and the children for having gone through the ordeals they had and survived. “Aye. That was a dangerous journey to take.”

Even hardened warriors could find it difficult.

“It was. Isobel was always optimistic, even when I was sure we were lost near the end. I knew she was mad at me when I said so, but even then, she encouraged us and masked her feelings. Though at times, I knew she’d been anxious.”

“I imagine all of you were.”

“Aye. Isobel had a twin brother who had been lost at sea.”

“How long ago?”

“Seven years ago, before Libby and Drummond were born.” Conall cleared his throat. “Elene had been sold to my clan, and Isobel befriended her because she was a wolf. We had to be careful talking to her because they would beat her. But every chance we got, she shared the words you use, and we learned some of your language. In secret, Isobel trained her how to fight.”

He would have if Alasdair could have freed Elene and killed the chieftain himself. Better than that, if he’d been allied with the wolf pack she belonged to and had been able to come to their aid before all the killing took place.

“You really have thirty wolves in your pack?” Conall asked, sounding in awe.

“Aye, and if the five of you stay with us, that will make five and thirty.”

“I don't know about my cousin and what she wants to do, or Elene. She said she would stay with us for now but might want to look for her family.”

“Aye, well, you are all welcome to stay with us,” Alasdair said.

“I am a good hunter and a fighter,” Conall said.

“And you are good at taking care of your family. That is what’s so important also in a wolf pack.”

Looking pleased at the praise, Conall nodded sagely. From what Conall had told Alasdair, he had already seen so much death in his young life. Alasdair knew he understood the importance of being there for his family.

When they finally arrived at the castle keep, he saw that the outer wall was still being repaired after the storm. Isobel and Elene came out of the keep wearing léines and brats that made them appear as though they were some of their own Highland women, which he was glad for. They had washed their hair and plaited it.

He didn’t want to have trouble with Highlanders passing through who might cause difficulties for them because they had Vikings living with his clan.

As soon as Elene and Isobel saw them arrive in the inner bailey, they ran to give the children hugs. The young lass and lad hugged them back, glad the women were safe. Conall tried to appear more warrior-like and stiffened when Isobel and Elene hugged him, but the women didn’t seem to care. They were just glad to see their companions safe and sound.

Alasdair couldn’t take his eyes off Isobel, seeing the love she had for her kin, the friendship she had for Elene. He wanted to get to know her better.

“We will hunt and then eat,” Alasdair said. “Bessetta is my sister. She’ll take care of the younger children if you want to hunt with us.” He meant for Elene, Isobel, and Conall to go with them if they wanted to.

Elene said, “Some other time if it pleases you. I’ll stay with the children and get to know your sister. I’m sure they’ll be more comfortable if at least one person they know stays with them.”

And that they trusted, Alasdair figured. He understood her concern.

“I will hunt,” Isobel said, and Conall wanted to also.

Alasdair suspected they both volunteered to prove they had what it took to be part of the pack.

“Do you know they have thirty wolves in the pack? With us, five and thirty?” Conall asked Isobel, smiling.

Isobel glanced at Alasdair for confirmation, her striking blue eyes catching his gaze, and he smiled a little.

“Aye, if you will stay with us, that’s what we’ll have. It is good that you changed your names. You’ve changed your garments, but you still sound Icelandic when you speak with your distinctive brogue. Which we can work on. You blend in with us otherwise. Your older cousin mistakenly said he was named Bodolf at first.”

“It will take some getting used to. Dinna fault me if I dinna answer to my new name sometimes either,” Isobel said.

Alasdair smiled. “Believe me, I would be the same way. How is your arm?”

“It’s better. I scraped it on the rocks when we swam to the beach to reach the other longships. You know, with our faster healing abilities, it will be better in no time.”

“Good.” It was times like these that he really regretted them not having a healer. But they hadn’t had any luck at finding one who was a wolf who would leave their own pack.

“Hey.” Hans rode up to join them, his horse’s hooves pounding the ground. “We have visitors. And they could be trouble. It’s Baine and his brother, Cleary.”

“God’s wounds.” They were trouble. And Conall was wearing Icelandic clothes still!