Stone Heart (16 page)

"By the way, you weren't going to actually use that on someone, were you?" She pointed to the butcher knife he'd held.

"I will put this back," he said, putting off answering. She did not know he had wielded weapons of a much crueler nature for less reason than self defense. On several occasions she had reiterated her belief that he was incapable of such things. The truth would chase her from him. And he dearly wanted her near.

"Open the packages the Sorceress sent with Pluck. I shall see to our meal."

Karen wasn't fooled by his evasiveness when it came to the subject of the knife. But it was clear he didn't want to discuss some habits which were connected to his past. Before all this was over, she'd find out more about him. Angus wasn't the brute or as savage he purported to be. He
couldn't
be.

She took the packages to a wooden table, which served as the dining area, and tore the brown paper from the smaller of the two bundles. It was an unmarked, black cannister.

"Wonder what this is?" she mused, as Angus walked toward her.

He opened the container, sniffed the contents and nodded.

"You shall have some of this with your meal. It is a special blend of herbal tea. It will help you relax and sleep soundly."

"And not
you
?" she questioned.

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He laughed. "Perhaps she meant for me to drink some as well. What is in the other package?"

She tore through the second larger bundle and unfolded a white robe much like the ones Hugh and Shayla wore. There were matching doe skin boots as well. The fabric felt soft and warm. It would also make her feel more like a part of this semi-medieval world. The robe was expertly sewn and had tiny silver oak leaves embroidered around the cuffs and hood.

"This is beautiful," she whispered. "But why would she want me to dress as one of the Druids?"

"To be more easily accepted by them, perhaps." He fingered the soft material knowing it would look good on Karen's slight frame.

"What about you? You
are
Druid. I wonder why you weren't given one?"

"The Sorceress knows I would no' wear it. Long ago I disassociated myself with my heritage. Though I have pledged myself to the Sorceress, my Druid ancestry is for me to reclaim when I am ready."

"And you're
not?"
she asked.

He noted the sad tone of her voice. "First, there is much I would amend and atone for. I will know when I am fit to reenter this life completely. The robe would make no difference to my feelings. I must earn my place here."

"Angus, please, let the past go. Let me help you," she pleaded and took one of his hands in hers.

"Since
you
ask, I will try." He smiled. "Now, put this garment and the boots on. They will keep you warm and offer protection from the forest plants."

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"Will we be going out tonight?" She asked with a sense of rising expectation.

"Aye, after we've eaten. And only for a short distance. You should see the forest and some of its inhabitants by moonlight. The magic is truly missed otherwise."

Angus almost gasped when she gifted him with a smile that was bright enough to light any pit in a dungeon. He watched as Karen quickly grabbed up her new clothing and made her way to the small bathroom. Had he a fraction of her courage, he would have requested a robe on the morrow. But there was much he wanted to know first. His questions would wait for the daylight.

Karen debated about leaving on her underwear, but guessed the Druids probably wore none. They seemed strictly the back-to-nature types, so she decided to follow suit. She lifted the robe over her body and let it fall into place. Nothing had ever felt more natural or comforting. She ran her hands over the soft fabric and lifted the hood in place. There was a full-length mirror on the back of the door. It reflected an image she hardly recognized as her own. She was still too thin, but she looked less ill in the robe. She smiled and brought her long hair forward and over her shoulders. Then she pulled on the soft leather boots which seemed to fit perfectly.

Angus was putting the meal on the table when she walked into the room. "What do you think?" She extended her arms and turned around for his inspection.

The difference was astounding. It was as if she belonged in the garment, and she appeared so much less frail than 140

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before. He would have thought it would swallow her tiny figure. But she only seemed more alive. More vital somehow.

Her face glowed with joy.

"It suits you well," he murmured. "Many will no' easily sense you are new here."

"Like you said, maybe that's why Shayla sent it." She paused. "Should I refer to her by her given name or as Sorceress?"

"Since she introduced herself to you as both, you may use either." He moved closer to her and looked down into her eager face. "Whenever we are out of this cottage, you must stay near me. Promise me this."

"I will," she nodded. "I'm on
your
turf now."

He was not exactly sure what that meant, but she was sincere in her promise. "Good. Now, let us eat. Then I will change my garments and we will venture forth."

* * * *

Karen had packed his leather clothing with hers. There was no question in her mind as to why he'd want to wear his former clothing. Medieval surroundings demanded the same mode of dress. She was sure, in his mind, he'd feel more secure in them. While he was changing in the bathroom, she unpacked her own things and placed them in a small bureau located on the side of the room. She supposed, since he'd made an issue of staying so near her, that the arrangements were firmly made as to quarters. And that was fine as far as she was concerned. Having Angus around was as comfortable to her as the Druid robe she wore. His huge presence would 141

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have been forbidding to some. All she experienced was a sense of protection. It was sort of like having armor surrounding her, and it was a security she was beginning to like. It was also rather peculiar how quickly he'd become nonthreatening and so endearing. Especially since they'd known each other such a very short time and how fierce he'd first seemed.

"I am ready," he announced as he entered the room.

And she'd just been telling herself how
comfortable
she was with him. The breath left her body for an instant. He was positively primal. His loose hair caught the firelight and reflected blue-black strands. The leather jerkin, pants and boots he wore clung to his perfect form as though he had been poured into the clothing. All he needed was a sword.

Some Excalibur piece of equipment with which to slay any enemy insane enough to get in his way.

For this moment in time, she'd be the damsel he'd chosen to protect. And for the rest of her life, however long that might be, she'd never forget how he was holding out his hand, bestowing her with a beautiful smile and asking the perfect question for that moment.

"Shall we go forth, lady?"

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Chapter Seven

Karen looked up into the cobalt-colored sky. The moon hung like some huge garden lantern. Angus took her arm and led her a short distance from the cottage. He found a stone for her to sit upon. The night breeze was surprisingly cool, but the robe she was wearing protected her. Dew hung on the plants like thousands of tiny diamonds. If there was anyplace in the world that could be truly called enchanted, Karen knew this forest was such a place. They were in a small vale where ferns and wild flowers crowded each other at the feet of ancient oaks. In the light of the moon, the flowers glowed like everything else. She couldn't tell what varieties were there, but their sweet scent lingered.

"In this place, time seems to stop," Angus whispered. "This is a home for the Pixies and Sprites. I can sense them near."

"Will they let me see them?" she asked as he sat and wrapped an arm around her torso.

"I believe they will. They fear nothing here. No prey threatens them in this protected place. You may verra' well be one of the first outsiders to have ever seen such a thing."

Though he did not add the words
and live to tell about it
.

"What could possibly want to harm such creatures?"

"The biggest fear they have is of being caught by some kinds of birds. Owls love making tasty morsels of them. Then, there are cats people keep as garden pets. They stray into the forest from some nearby village and toy with the wee folk before pouncing. Occasionally, a frog or toad mistakes one for 143

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an oversized insect. I believe a few have probably met their fate on the front of one of your cars."

"
Angus, that's horrible!"
Her hands covered her face. Then she felt him shaking with laughter and Karen punched him in the arm. "That wasn't funny!" She playfully pushed him away.

He tried to stop chuckling. "They have no natural enemies except man. You can imagine what might happen if people were to know of them."

"On the grill of a car? That's
disgusting
!" She tried hard not to laugh at his twisted humor, but she wasn't succeeding very well. "You're a
sick
man, MacGregor."

"Aye, just a little Druid humor." He smirked.

"A
very
little." She tried to keep the mirth out of her voice.

She didn't want to encourage him. "If they heard what you just said, they'll never show up."

"They will come in but a few moments."

"What's the difference between Fairies and Pixies?" she asked. Again, she felt him quiver again with laughter.

"About three lengths of my arm, I should imagine."

"What?"

"I'll introduce you to some Fairies tomorrow. We're here to see some of the wee folk tonight."

"Well, you're in a
rare
mood." His good humor was infectious, even if it was a little bizarre.

He suddenly held up his hand. "They approach."

From a distance, tiny bells tinkled. Then the sound grew closer. Lights, which might have been mistaken for fireflies, approached from everywhere and soon surrounded them. The sound became more like small wind chimes in the evening air.

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Angus pulled her very close and wrapped his arms about her. "Dunna' move."

Karen did as he instructed and froze in his embrace, but she was so enthralled he needn't have bothered with the order. Tiny beings, each about five or six inches in height, flew from one flower to another. Their wings were like colored cellophane and they carried tiny baskets. Light emanated from the baskets much the way a night-light would glow from behind a sheer curtain. They came in all shapes and sizes.

Some were in various stages of undress, their tiny garments no larger than a doll's. "What are they doing?" she barely whispered.

"Gathering nectar for various drinks and medicines," he loudly announced.

From the ambient light created by their small baskets, she could see him grinning mischievously. The Pixies didn't seem at all concerned about their presence and continued with their chores as though nothing was unusual. "You told me to be quiet." She pushed her hood back and glared at him.

"I told you not to move. I said nothing about being quiet,"

he reminded.

"You're an ass!" She openly laughed with him. "What's gotten into you?" She'd never seen Angus in an outright silly mood.

"I dinna' know 'twould feel so good to be back. I have had no contact with these creatures since I was a small boy. One day, I would like my own children to know such joy and wonder."

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His own children.
Of course he would want a family of his own. That had never occurred to her. Just because he'd recently rejoined the world didn't mean he wouldn't eventually want as normal a life as possible. But why did the thought of it hurt? Because she knew he'd have a future with someone else when she was gone. There were probably dozens of women who would stand in line to get their chance to have him. And that's what she wanted for him. Wasn't it?

Angus had never thought or felt things like this before.

Women had only been a means to satisfy his lust, none had been considered worthy as a life mate. Three hundred years.

It had taken him that long to feel what others felt. Then he remembered fathers who had not come home again because of him. And what had become of the child or children that might have been his? That was one of the reasons he had asked Karen about researching the past. As more of his history flooded his consciousness, guilt heaped upon him. It was as the old Sorceress had said, his parents would have hated what he had become, and all that he had done in the name of vengeance.

Karen felt his light mood slip away. Hers was gone, too.

The Pixies were lovely, graceful creatures, but their magic was suddenly lost on her.

"Angus, can we go back now?"

"Aye, we should," he readily agreed.

He led her back to the cottage. Karen did not seem in any better mood than he was, though he'd meant for the evening to be a treat for them both. Something had gone wrong the instant he had mentioned having a family someday. He
knew
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what disturbed
him
. But what could have curbed
her
happiness so suddenly? Then a thought occurred to him. He abruptly stopped walking and faced her. "Karen, please
forgive
me," he begged. "I am an addle-minded ass!"

"What? What are you talking about?" She looked up at his face in surprise. It was so dark she couldn't see his expression, but she could hear the contrition in his voice.

"There are many times I speak without thinking. That matter I brought up about having children ... I dinna' think ...

That is I..."