Susan King - [Celtic Nights 03] (36 page)

BOOK: Susan King - [Celtic Nights 03]
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"What happened the other night?" Alpin asked. Eva did not answer, and wrinkled her nose at Lachlann, knowing Alpin was not as deaf as he sometimes claimed to be.

"I found out that our girl has a bit of the warrior in her," Lachlann answered. Alpin grunted as if that was obvious.

Eva bent to pick up the leather scabbard for her sword, and Lachlann came toward her to take the sword before she could sheathe it. He fingered the nicks and scratches. "This is an old blade, and has seen a lot of use. Obviously you want to keep it blunt for practices. But these scars should be smoothed out, and the blade polished."

"That is not the sort of swordsmithing I want from you," she murmured.

He cocked a brow. "Still after me for weapons?"

"The rebels need them sorely now, if they think to resist further, or to take Innisfarna."

He frowned. "A few repairs are all the bladesmithing you will have of me."

She took the sword and jammed it into the scabbard. The movement twisted her wrist, and she winced, rubbing her forearm.

"Does it still hurt?" Lachlann asked. He took the scabbarded sword from her. "I thought it was better."

"I am fine," she said as Alpin approached them.

"What happened the other night?" Alpin asked, looking from one to the other. He pointed to her wrist. "You said nothing of being hurt, only that your muscles ached."

Eva sighed. "A few nights ago, Lachlann and two soldiers saw me out in the hills. They mistook me for a rebel, and we fought with swords."

Alpin looked pleased. "No doubt you bested them! Though sparring Lachlann would be a challenge—I trained him myself."

Eva nodded. "I twisted my arm when Lachlann—"

"She nearly took me down," Lachlann said. "Her skill amazed me. You must be very proud of your pupil."

"I am," Alpin said. "Girl, you should have said so. She will benefit from a hot soak for those muscles," he told Lachlann, who nodded. Ninian came toward them, balancing the wooden practice swords in his arms, while Alpin held the old steel blade he had been using. "You can help her prepare a tub."

"I can," Lachlann agreed, and lifted a brow, glancing down at Eva. She felt herself blush, and saw Alpin's piercing gaze take in both of them. She began to unlace her quilted tunic, and Lachlann helped her remove the heavy garment.

"Look at this old sword, too, smith," Alpin said, holding out his blade. "I would appreciate it if you could repair both weapons. I do not like to take my blades to that smith in Glen Brae. Take them back with you and clean them up, eh?"

"All they need is some grinding and polishing, and a touch of heat here and there," Lachlann said. "It is easy enough."

"Good." Alpin nodded. "Give that one back to Eva. She needs more practice with steel. The way she fought today, she could not have cut down a straw man."

"The edges were blunted," she said in her defense.

"And you were moving like an old woman," Alpin answered. "You still need practice with downstrokes and stances. I work the girl hard," Alpin told Lachlann. "And she is good, but she could be excellent with more training. The soldiers take up my time rowing them back and forth, and doing chores at the castle like a servant. I have not given her as much time as I wanted." He peered at Lachlann. "You were always a good student of the sword. Perhaps you can work with her yourself."

"I could help her with some moves," Lachlann said.

Eva felt a small thrill go through her. During their sword encounter on the hillside, he had guided her and taught her, and even in those few minutes she had learned and implemented. And his guidance later, in the depths of the heather bed, was natural, tender, and eloquent. Those lessons in particular she was eager to repeat. She felt a hot blush creep up her throat into her cheeks.

"Be sure to work on thrusting," Alpin said then.

Lachlann looked at her, his eyes sparkling, a smile quirking his lips. She pursed her mouth to keep from laughing. "We could do that," Lachlann replied easily.

"Good, good," Alpin said. "Eva, come back to the house with me. Ninian has something for you. Smith, you come, too, and I will take you both over to Balnagovan." He gathered the rest of the gear with Lachlann's help, and led them out of the alder grove, with Ninian trailing behind them.

They crossed the narrow end of the island and headed for Alpin's house, perched on a grassy slope above the loch. The rose garden was bare, the vines sticklike and cut back.

Dry leaves blew in small whirlwinds beneath darkening skies.

Inside the little house, Ninian went to a corner and lifted a cloth sack, which he handed silently to Eva. As she opened it, a wonderful fragrance wafted out.

"Rose petals!" she cried, and sifted her fingers through hundreds of variously hued petals. "Oh, how heavenly!" She inhaled in delight. "You gathered these, and dried them for me?" she asked. Ninian nodded happily.

"When autumn comes and the blooms drop away, I never know what to do with them. Ninian gathered them up and dried them, and said his grandmother used to do that. So did my own wife, as I remember," Alpin added, a smile creasing his cheeks.

"Ninian, thank you," Eva said, and reached out to hug the boy, who blushed furiously and covered his mouth with his hand. "This is a lovely and thoughtful gift. I can use these to freshen the mattresses and pillows, and to make rosewater. The house will smell lovely this winter." Her smile included Lachlann, who watched her with a bemused expression.

She suddenly wondered where she would be that winter: at Innisfarna in her own home, or safe and happy at Balnagovan with the smith; or, God forbid, shut up at Strathlan like a prisoner.

"Take a hot bath with some of those roses, to ease your aches," Alpin said. "Get the smith to help you fill that great tub in his smithy." He grinned, and Eva blinked at him in surprise. "Ninian, you did well, boy. Carry the bag down to the boat for Eva, if you will, and wait for us there. Lachlann will take the swords. We will follow in a moment," he added. "I want a word with Eva about her practice."

"Of course," Lachlann said, and gathered the two scab-barded blades. He put a friendly hand on Ninian's shoulder as they walked away.

Alpin turned to Eva. "What happened the other night?" he asked bluntly.

"Ah, what do you mean?" she asked, and cleared her throat.

"I mean you have his heart, and he has yours. I am not a blind man." When Eva did not answer, he peered closely at her. "When the smith's lad was young, he adored you, girl, though you did not seem to know. It was plain enough to me and my wife."

"You both knew?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Suspected it, though he is a man who keeps his thoughts private. Sometimes it was keen in his eyes, like a pain, when he looked at you. Likely he kept that hidden from you. And now I see his heart is still in your keeping. I watched you both, and I think something happened recently—beyond sword sparring."

She suddenly wanted to cry, not from sadness, but because Alpin, who was more like a father to her than her own father had been, had touched off some wellspring of emotion. "I do not know what you mean," she said, her chin quivering.

"Do you not? None of your kinsmen want you to stay with Campbell. I am sure Lachlann MacKerron agrees, for reasons of the heart." He leaned close. "Am I right?"

Tears rose then, and she dashed them away, nodding. "I do love him," she whispered. "And now I know he loves me, too."

"And you want to be together," he said. "As it should be. Though I think you have been together already," he added gently, and patted her shoulder. "I was young once, and I remember that sort of fire. Did you think I would lecture you for it?
Ach,
I kept a watch over you when you were younger, Eva girl, but now you are old enough to know what you want. And I like the fellow you love, and so do your kinsmen. Just follow your heart, and all will be well. Do not worry about Green Colin."

She sniffled. "I want to refuse Colin, but I dread the trouble it will cause."

"No matter what it stirs up, we want you to be happy. Your young lads will survive this and regain their rights without the help of that snake."

"What about Ninian? I cannot desert him to Colin's care. He is happy now, thinking he will be my stepson."

"Ninian will always have your friendship. You need not wed his father to give him that. And I will not desert the boy either. But do not let sympathy rule you. Obey your heart, and you will never regret the choices you make."

Impulsively, she hugged him. "We must go, before the soldiers see me here, dressed like this," she said, indicating her plaid and shirt. "Thank you for the roses. I will make you a wonderful pillow stuffed with them."

"That would only make me sneeze," he said gruffly. "If you want to thank me, use that new-sharpened sword to cut down a few soldiers and take this island into your keeping. I have trained a new Aeife, and I think she is ready."

Eva was silent as they headed toward the beach, where Lachlann and Ninian waited beside the boat. She felt a vague, dark sense of dread, not only at the thought of facing Colin, but at the thought of raising her sword to him.

Alpin handed her in, waited for the others, and took up the oars. "Make sure you get that hot bath," he said as he rowed. "My wife always said roses had healing properties. The blacksmith can help you heat the water." He grinned again.

"Alpin," she warned him. He chortled, and Lachlann sent them a perplexed look.

Alpin rowed hard to pull the boat out into the water. "Think of the princess Aeife," he murmured to Eva. "Remember how much she loved Innisfarna, and how she fought for it." She nodded, watching him. "And remember that Aeife had her prince. You need yours, too." He waggled his white brows.

The boat skimmed over the wavelets toward Balnagovan, and Eva thought about the shining sword lost in those depths. She thought about Aeife and her prince, and remembered that, in her daydreams as a girl, he had always resembled Lachlann.

 

 

 

Chapter 25

 

Lachlann woke beside Eva, who slept like a dove, quiet and still. Rising carefully, he left the house and walked down to the smithy. After starting the fire in the forge, he took Jehanne's sword from its hiding place on the ledge.

Flames licked bright and hot in the forge bed as he unwrapped the sword' and turned. He stretched his hand near the blaze, and the heat seared his skin, dared him to draw back. Finally he pulled away.

Fire had destroyed her, yet he knew, in his faith and in his heart, that she was remade now without suffering, finer than she had ever been on the earth. In the profound depth of his soul, he knew she was joyous and fulfilled. Each day, he mourned her less. He was grateful for having known her and he cherished his encounter with her. Because of it, he was a stronger man than he had been.

But his anger at the injustice done to her lingered, and a sense of guilt still darkened his heart. He had a promise to fulfill. Until it was met, he would never feel the burden lift.

He passed his hand through the flames, feeling no burn. But he still could not touch fire to her sword. He snatched up the twig brush to rake the ashes inward and smother the flames.

"Stop," Eva said. He turned. She stood inside the door, just closing it, her plaid draped over her head, her cheeks pink from wind and rain. She came toward him. "Please do not put the fire out, or hide that beautiful sword again. She wanted you to repair it."

He looked at the bright, broken sword now resting on the anvil. "Eva, I cannot."

"Lachlann, why?" she asked, looking up at him. "Why do you always deny your ability to make swords? You are a gifted bladesmith. I do not understand."

He sighed heavily, pushed the broken blade away, and sighed again. "Here is the truth of it, then. I can no longer forge steel."

"I do not understand," she said. "Do you lack materials?"

"It is the eye injury," he said, touching his left brow. "I told you about the changes in my vision, and the odd lights and color shifts that I sometimes see." She nodded. "Without good eyesight, especially for colors, I cannot forge good steel. That is why I work only black iron now. Those simple color changes even I can see."

BOOK: Susan King - [Celtic Nights 03]
6.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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