The Capture of Highland Desire (The Mac Coinnach Brothers) (12 page)

“Aye, well, that much whiskey would give any man strange dreams.
  Ye drank everyone else under the table, man.”

Aye, it must have been the whiskey.  It had been a very long time since he’d drunk so much of the stuff.  Still, he couldn’t help but glance up at the tower window
once more before looking back at Angus, who had evidently been speaking to him again.  “What were ye saying?”

             
Angus had followed his gaze to the window, and understanding crossed his face, followed by a grin and a little snort of laughter.

             
“Good luck to ye lad, if ye have a mind to try your hand with the laird’s niece.  They say he has her already promised to someone.  For a very fair deal, at that.”

             
Eian couldn’t pretend that he didn’t know what Angus was talking about.  He had a feeling that the vicious jealousy rising like bile in his gut would show on his face anyway.  “Who is it, do ye ken?”

             
The other man shook his head.  “No.  No one kens, just rumors.  But people talk, even those privy to the Laird’s business, and the word is she’ll be wed within the month, if Leon has his way.  Probably some fat auld laird from a lesser clan.”  He let out a laugh.  “Poor lass, if I were her, I’d be running about now, and such a pretty thing, too.”

             
Eian looked up at the window again and narrowed his eyes.  He would have to double his efforts, because there was no way he would stand by and see Allia married off to someone else, not when he wanted her more. But first, he really needed to wash.  He smelled like horses and whiskey.

             
He got to his feet, brushing the worst of the straw from his kilt.  “Angus, do ye have some soap?”

             
“Aye, in the tack room.  Help yerself… and Mac Coinnach…”

             
“Aye?”

             
“Good luck to ye.”

             
Eian grabbed a lump of soap and headed to the loch.  He stripped bare and washed his clothing, hanging it on a low hanging branch to drip dry while he soaped his hair and body.  He swam out to the middle of the long, narrow loch and back again, then climbed out onto the shore and put his still-damp clothes back on.  They would dry while he walked back. 

             
As he neared the castle yard, it was obvious that something had happened while he was gone.  Saddled horses were being led out of the stable by grooms, and a group of Leon’s guardsmen were checking their weapons and preparing to ride out.  Eian broke into a jog as the first group of men rode out.  He yelled to one of the guards who was just mounting his horse.

             
“What has happened?”

             
“We ride after the laird’s niece.  She’s missing from the castle.  ‘Tis feared she’s run off.”

             
Eian felt a stab of panic.  Allia couldn’t be out there on her own somewhere… she could get hurt… He had to find her.  “I’m coming with ye.”

             
Before anyone could answer, he was sprinting into the stables for Dair.

***

             
Leon waited behind his huge oaken desk for the visiting sorcerer to be shown in.  He had been wondering when the old man would appear at Lochain.   In truth he had expected him sooner.  At last, Dirc of Creagmor appeared in the doorway.  Actually appeared.  An impressive trick Leon himself could never hope to master, but then there was a reason he was a laird and not a sorcerer.  The Druid magic flowed differently through each of their kind.

“Dirc… it’s been some time.”
  Leon hadn’t seen the Mac Coinnach sorcerer since the last time he’d visited Creagmor, which was years ago now.  Dirc didn’t look like he’d aged a day in that time.

             
“Leon.  Aye, it has indeed.”

             
“What brings ye this way, old man?”  He knew, of course, but he would still play things out.  It had always been their way.

             
“Ye have the lass?”

             
Leon straightened in his chair, his gaze sharpening.  “Ye mean my niece, Allia Logan?”

             
“Aye, of course.  She’s here?  Ye’ve done as ye were told and brought her back?”

             
“How do ye ken I was to bring her back…” 
              Dirc rolled his eyes in impatience.  “How would I no’ ken?  She’s a part of the prophecy, is she no’?”

             
“Prophecy?  I dinna ken what ye’re talking about.”  Though he did, of course.  “She’s been returned to make a good match for our clan…“

             
“Oh aye, and she will.  That is all part of it, and ye ken it is.  Stop wi’ the pretending ye hav’na a clue.  I’m on yer side, if ye remember.  No need to paly coy wi’ me.”

             
“My niece is part of what, old man?”

             
“Bloody hell, will ye no’ listen?  The prophecy, I told ye.  Three sons of three sons and all that.”  He waved his hand impatiently.

             
Leon shrugged.  “She’s no’ here at the moment, but I expect she’ll be back.  A week at the most, given that she’s a strong willed lass.”             

             
“Ye let her go, then?”  The sorcerer frowned as if this was unexpected.  It wasn’t.

             
“Aye.  And she’ll choose to come back.  For him, the man chosen for her.”

             
Dirc tapped his fingers on the hard oak.  “Ye’re so certain.”

             
“Aye, I am.”  Leon smiled, looking very much like a man who had an ace in his pocket.  “I’ve seen them together ye ken, and it’s far too late for the both of them.”

             
Hours later, Eian rode back with the rest of the guard, defeated.  They had looked for miles in every direction, through forests and fields, but there had been no sign of Allia.  Since there were no horses missing from the stable, she couldn’t have gone far… and yet it seemed she had completely disappeared.  After leaving Dair to the care of one of the grooms, Eian made his way to the hall.  He had hoped to find that the lass was still here at the castle after all, perhaps hiding.  Maybe it had all been a mistake.  But now that he was here, he could feel that she was not.  He hadn’t even realized until now that he had begun to feel when she was near, but now he noticed her absence like a glaring hole. 

He didn’t know why he even cared; she was just a pretty lass, after all. 

And my mate
. 

His gut clenched
tightly at the thought, demanding he admit the truth.

Mates can sense one another in ways other cannot…

Eian felt like he was walking a fine edge, and was about to fall over it, on one side or the other.  He sat down in the nearly empty hall and poured himself a cup of ale from the pitcher on the table.  When he looked up, a familiar yet entirely unlikely figure in a dark robe was walking through the door.  Surprised, he rose out of his chair.

"Dirc?  What the bloody hell are ye doing here?"

              "And it's good to see ye too, lad, so glad I've come all this way.  Ye look like hell, by the way."

             
Eian glared at him, but sat back down in the chair, reaching for his ale.  He was probably going to need it.  He downed half of it and slammed the cup back down on the table.  "So why are ye here, old man?"  If Dirc showed up unexpectedly, it usually meant trouble.  Eian braced himself.

             
Dirc took a seat opposite of him, and Eian reached for the jug of ale, pouring some into an empty tankard and shoving it across to Dirc, who lifted it and took a much more refined and gentlemanly sip than Eian had.

             
He swallowed, then put the tankard down on the table before he spoke.  "I have word of yer brother.  I though ye'd want to ken."

             
Eian sat up straighter, suddenly alert.  "Bren?  What’s happened?"

             
Dirc shook his head, then nodded.  "No, the other.  I meant I have word on yer other brother."

             
Eian leaned forward, his heart speeding up.  Bren had presumed Drust had died in a cave with Mored, when he had gone after the ring that would bring Bren’s mate back to him... Bren's soul mate Faith had been returned to the future she had come from by the evil sorcerer Mored.  Eian and Dirc had played a part in bringing her to Bren in the first place when they stole the Mac Coinnach family's Dragon Ring from under Bren's nose.  The ring had brought her through time, but when Mored got hold of it, he sent her back.  His proud, strong brother had fallen apart without her, and though he and Drust had done everything they could think of to help, Eian secretly thought Bren was a little touched in the head to be that lost over a woman.  These days...  he wasn't so sure anymore.  Could Drust have survived?  Or perhaps they had only found his body, after all.  Then he could at least have a proper burial…

"What is it?  Tell me before I come across the table and choke the life out of ye!"

              "Och, lad, then ye'd never find out.  At least not until ye travelled all the way back to Creagmor."

             
"Dirc!"

             
Dirc sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.  "Verra well.  Drust is back... and..."

             
"What?  Drust is back?  He’s alive?  How?"  Eian didn’t think he’d ever heard such good news.  It had weighed heavily on his soul that Drust might be gone, or at least lost.  But to have his brother back again…

             
“Och, lad, he was saved by the love of a good woman.  His mate.”

             
“What?” 

Try as he might,
and he
was
trying, Eian could not imagine his troubled, stoic brother mated to a woman. 
Any woman
.  Drust had always done his best to avoid the fairer sex, to the point that Eian had actually worried about how it might be affecting his health.  It couldn’t be good for a man to go that long without a woman.  A man had needs…

             
“Aye, I ken…” Dirc told him, obviously divining Eian’s thoughts.  “But it’s true.  They wed just before I came here.”

 
              Slowly, the implications of this news sank in.  Eian ran his fingers through his hair, and it fell back down in loose waves around his face.  "Then there was no real reason for me to come here.  No one needs the charm…  I should probably put it back where I found it."

             
"No, lad, keep it a while longer.  It might be useful yet.  But ye’re right, ye’re quest for the charm is done, and there’s no reason for ye to stay longer at Lochain.  I expect ye'll be coming back to Creagmor with me tomorrow, then?  Ye'll want to see yer brothers, and there's a new lot of men in for training.  Bren could use yer help with them.  The big battle is yet to come, ye ken.  We must always be prepared."

             
"What big battle?"

             
"The big battle between good and evil, of course.  Where have ye been?"  Dirc rolled his eyes and Eian frowned at him, confused.  But that was nothing new when talking to Dirc.

             
"Oh, aye, of course”, he said carefully, as one might when talking to a lunatic.  “And aye, I'll be coming with ye tomorrow.  Nothing more to keep me here now."  God, how those words felt wrong on his tongue.

             
"Right, then.  Ye'll need to tie things up here and pack yer things.  I'll be seeing ye first thing in the morning." 

             
Dirc paused expectantly, as if waiting for Eian to say something else, but since Eian didn't have any idea what that might be, he just nodded.  "First thing, then.  I'll be ready."  He should be glad that the decision of whether to stay and search for Allia was taken out of his hands.  The lass had probably just run off with a lover.  He
had
seen that man kissing her… Oh god.  It made perfect sense now.  All of it.  Why she hadn’t given in to his advances, the man in the orchard meeting her in secret.  He hadn’t seen the man again, and now Allia was gone as well… Hell if he didn’t feel like he had just been stabbed right through the heart.

             
Dirc walked away mumbling something about ‘blind, stubborn imbiciles’ and ‘men without brains even under their kilts’.  

             
Eian couldn’t be bothered to think about what, if anything,
that
meant. He was too busy trying to override the sick feeling building in his gut and persuade himself that returning to Creagmor was the right thing to do.  Certainly if Allia was actually his mate, Dirc would have already known, and would have told him, wouldn’t he?  And she wouldn’t have forsaken him for another man.  He should be relieved to find he was still a bachelor in every sense, free to do as he pleased.  Because if the lass had truly been his, Eian wouldn’t have rested until he found her, and he would have killed any man that tried to take her from him.  Aye, he should be glad to be free, but last night’s dream kept coming back to him in fits and starts.  And he knew in his gut that if he could have half the feeling of peace and joy he had felt in that dream, he would give up bachelorhood in an instant.