“He had two blades,” Keenan said (8 page)

Chapter 5

Keenan tapped his horse into a jog and they plodded across the planked gateway into the torch-lit bailey.

“What do you mean?” Serena asked, but the shouts of warriors rose up as Keenan pulled his horse to a stop before the massive doors to Kylkern Castle.

Men, tall and broad came running out of a low building off to the side. The double doors looked as if they belonged to a giant. They towered up into a peaked arch to point toward the sky. The doors swung outward and a press of more warriors rushed to greet Keenan under the darkening sky. Shouts of “Keenan returns,” rang through the air and through Serena’s battered mind. Although she was able to block most of the individual thoughts, the hum of emotion washed through her; elation, relief, and something else. Hope.

He’s returned. Finally, I’m ready to spill some English blood. He’ll lead us to victory!

Before she could contemplate what her senses told, Keenan dismounted amid cheers, and his iron-like hands lifted her down.

“Take the horses and rub them down well, lads,” Keenan called to two stable boys who grabbed his reins. Serena could just make out through the crowd of men, Robert Mackay lowering William from his horse.

“The three who journey with me are honored guests. The boy has been hurt and needs to rest.” One of the warriors tried to take William from Robert’s arms, but Robert shook his head and marched toward the door with his burden. Serena thought she saw William glance around before closing his eyes again. Concerned, she moved as best she could toward him.

“Let me to him.” She spoke out above the low hum and several of the men parted to give her room. She ran up and placed a hand on his head. The fever was nearly gone, but she hadn’t touched him to sense a fever. He was frightened and still confused. She bent to his ear.

“All will be well, Shoshòy,” she said, speaking in Romany. “Rest easy.” Her closeness and the familiar language comforted him. She looked to Robert. “Thank you.”

He smiled.

Serena watched him walk up the thick slab steps. It was only then that she noticed the large man standing at the top of the steps, illumed from behind by torchlight. His face hid in shadows but his stance held purpose. She sensed authority around him, an air of importance.

“Aye, come inside,” he said to Robert, but continued to watch her. “Ye are all welcome to Kylkern Castle.”

Keenan closed his hand around her upper arm and tugged slightly to move forward. “Lachlan, chief to the Macleans of Kylkern, please welcome Serena Faw of the Romany tribe into yer home and protection.” Keenan’s words rang through the hushed courtyard.

If Serena hadn’t felt the push of hundreds of curious minds against her back, she’d have thought them alone in such silence. It was as if the highland wind held its breath as the chief, Keenan’s older brother, studied her. The man was not quite as tall or nearly as broad shouldered as Keenan. He had a handsome face surrounded by brown hair pulled back from his straight, unmarred features. His forehead pinched a bit as if he toiled over some complex problem, and his eyes searched her.

Lachlan extended his hand to hers. Serena took a deep breath and prepared to touch him without her gloves. She had left them with the horse. She clasped his fingers timidly to allow him to pull her up the remaining steps.

Soft skin, pure and beautiful. Who is she? Is she Keenan’s? Romany? She doesn’t look Romany.

His thoughts were normal but something lurked behind them. She sensed fear, fear mixed with great frustration.

“Ye are very welcome here, lass,” he said, his soft burr like his brother’s. He smiled and led her into the cheery interior of the castle’s main hall.

Serena glanced back to see Keenan watching as if pain pulled at him. Their eyes met and he grinned, but the smile did not lessen the intensity of his gaze.

Serena turned. She coughed and pulled her fingers from Lachlan’s grasp to cover her mouth. Breaking the contact helped immensely.

Lachlan stepped away. “Do ye have the ague?” he asked, his forehead furrowed.

“No, just a bit of dust from the courtyard.” He took her hand and placed it on his arm. He led Serena to a long table laden with food. Most of the men had retreated outdoors leaving only a few talking heartily around the hall. Tapestries covered several of the stone walls, beautifully woven with colorful battle scenes and victories. One of a beautiful woman caught her attention, for the woman had her coloring down to the deep blue violet of her eyes.

“Sit, sit, and fill yer stomachs,” Lachlan called out to Keenan, Serena, and Robert who had just descended from where she assumed William lay resting. The fire blazed in a magnificent hearth at the other side of the room, casting warmth throughout. The stone floor was nearly spotless with a few area rugs placed for comfort near sitting areas. The table shone with cleanliness, and the room smelled of dried herbs and flowers. Its cheerfulness did not match the tension around her.

Keenan strolled over to them. He dropped her gloves and turned to talk to his brother. She quickly donned their familiar comfort.

“Tell me brother, what news from Gerard?” Lachlan asked. “Did ye bring the letter?”

“Gerard’s dead,” Keenan said.

Serena watched cold worry flash across the chief’s face. His fear jumped to the surface.

“And the letter revealing King George’s plans to rape Scotland?”

“Taken from his corpse.”

“And where were ye when our only hope to unite the clans against the English was thieved?”

Guilt sat heavily in Serena’s stomach, which made it impossible to pick up the buttered dark bread. Would Keenan place the blame on her or William? Should she speak up? Before she could utter a word Keenan sat down next to her and broke off a piece of bread and began to chew. Serena watched as he shrugged his massive shoulders that looked even bigger since they were now contained indoors.

“Lachlan, ye ken how hard it is to keep a hold of that slimy bastard. He was always trouble. For all we ken, the letter was created as a trap to prove we’re Jacobites so the crown could take our lands.”

Keenan’s brother sat down and rested his head in his hands, rubbing as if that would chase away some ache. “Keenan, what are we to do now?” Lachlan said lowly so that only his brother, Serena and Robert heard. “We need something to bring the clans together.”

Keenan nudged Serena’s bread closer. She nibbled the herbed bread and let the heady taste swirl around in her mouth. Keenan gulped down some mead before looking at his slumped brother.

“Serena and her brother saw who took the letter, Lachlan. The boy is too weak to travel back, but the lass and I can find them.”

This is what Keenan must have meant when he said that she was their savior. The letter must be of incredible value.

Lachlan looked up. Although hope once again brightened his eyes, his brow furrowed deeper. He frowned nearly as much as Keenan did, Serena thought and took another bite of the aromatic bread.

“Keenan!” A woman’s high pitched voice echoed through the high rafters of the arched room. “Ye’ve returned.”

A tall, slender woman rushed down the steps, her skirt pulled up in her haste to reach him. Keenan jumped up and caught her as she hurtled into his arms.

Serena watched, the bread turning tasteless in her mouth, as the lovely woman kissed Keenan’s cheeks, his forehead, even the tip of his nose.

Keenan wrapped her in a fierce hug and swung her around.

An invisible weight descended upon Serena’s shoulders, and the heaviness of ignored tears sat behind her eyes. She turned back and took a drink of the honey mead. She shouldn’t care if he had a woman back in the Highlands. He rescued her and William and that was enough. He would help clear William’s name, and she could help these people at the same time by finding their letter.

Anger followed the cold path of honey mead down into her stomach. But he had kissed her, kissed her thoroughly, twice. What would the laughing woman behind her think of that?

“Serena.” His voice still held his smile. She turned to face the two radiant people, a tangy aftertaste settling in her tight throat. “I wish to introduce ye to the light of my simple life.”

Several warriors behind her snorted, and the lady pinched up her nose good-naturedly at them.

Serena stood woodenly.

Keenan continued. “Elenor, daughter to the late Angus Maclean, and my beloved sister. Elenor, please meet Serena Faw of a Romany tribe,” he said.

Elenor gripped Serena’s fingers in warm greeting. “Rom, the Traveling People,” she said, and her eyes glittered brilliantly. “I remember them visiting when I was a lass. Papa would proclaim a festival when they came. I remember dancing to lutes and rattles and drums,” she said wistfully.

Serena stood speechless, still gripping the woman’s hand. Slowly her stomach began to unknot under the happy stare. Although the glove muted the woman’s happiness, it radiated up to her rapidly beating heart. She smiled back.

“I am pleased you share the fond memories of my people. I am glad to meet you,” she said and actually meant it. The woman’s happiness surrounded her. Elenor seemed to bring out the smiles from all except Lachlan who still brooded in his chair.

Elenor sat and pulled Serena back down. “Continue yer meal, Lady Faw.”

“Please call me Serena.”

“As long as ye call me Elenor.”

Serena nodded and took a bite of a buttery yellow cheese, flavored with dill.

“Delicious,” Serena said.

“Aye, I had the cook add the fresh dill to give it a bitterness against the tangy sweetness of the cheese. I think it turned out quite pleasant,” Elenor said, and cut off a small chunk from the block in the center of the table.

Serena nodded.

Lachlan punched his fist down on the table making the dishes, and Serena, jump.

“And what the bloody hell will I tell the clan chiefs while yer away finding the blasted letter that ye were supposed to bring back with ye?” Lachlan shouted at Keenan who had taken a seat to his brother’s side. Keenan barely registered the outburst.

“Lachlan yells a lot,” Elenor whispered to Serena. “He is nervous and impatient by nature, but he calms down eventually.

“There are the three of us, I dinna ken if Keenan told ye about us,” Elenor continued.

Serena shook her head.

“Well then, Lachlan is the eldest and therefore laird, I was the second born and last came Keenan.”

Serena could feel the love the sister had for Keenan without any of her powers. It dripped from her voice, and Serena wondered if she sounded that way when she spoke of William.

“Call the chiefs together and tell them that I,” Keenan said and jabbed his finger into his chest. “I have seen the letter from King George ordering the revocation of their lands, for I have. The English king would give our land to English nobles who have no ties to our homeland because he fears our support of the Jacobite cause. He fears what he cannot control.”

Several of the warriors standing nearby muttered obscenely.

“But Keenan, without proof, they willna unite against England. Some even plot secretly with George in order to save their lands. And without the clans united, we willna see James Stuart and his son, the bonnie prince, sit on the throne of all Britain.” Lachlan ran his nervous hands through his hair making it stand out around his pale face.

Keenan lowered his voice but Serena could still hear.

“Remember to consider, brother, that Bonnie Prince Charlie maybe should not be the one to lead us.”

“Enough,” Lachlan said. “That talk is treason, Brother,” he said stressing the familial title.

“All talk is treason to one side or another.”

Lachlan moved his hand in the air to dismiss Keenan’s words. “We support the Jacobite cause, any cause to stop the German miscreant from stealing our lands.”

Keenan nodded. “Of course to save our lands, but consider that there may be other ways to secure our lands apart from putting all our trust in the hands of an untried prince who prefers women and drink to battle.” Hard words set in a hard face. Serena felt rage emanate from Lachlan.

“Father backed James and his son, and so shall we,” Lachlan said.

“Father never met the prince as I have,” Keenan countered.

Elenor leaned into Serena. “Old argument. Lachlan willna listen,” she said quietly. “Let us away to the hearth, else we get an ache in our heads. Ye have the most unusual colored hair for a Rom,” she said. Elenor stood and Serena followed her to the cheery fire lapping up the insides of the huge hearth.

Keenan watched his sister lead Serena away. Had Elenor noticed the lass’s hair and eye color yet? His sister had always been obsessed with the legend of his death and the witch that would herald it. Much to their parents’ horror, Elenor studied the Wiccan ways over the years so that she would understand her sister-in-law. If Serena were the one, Elenor would discover it. And then what would he do?
I suppose I can die.
He smiled sardonically and tried to pay attention to his brother’s ranting.