Warrior Reborn (11 page)

“You claim birthright from the houses of the Ancient Picts, do you?” Editha approached to stand close to Brie, speaking to her as if no one else were around them.

“I do.”

“Then I will rely on the honor of yer ancestors for yer absolute honesty with us. Where is it you’d hope to go?”

“Toward the northern coast.” To a place she hadn’t seen since she was little more than a bairn. “To Tordenet Castle.”

“I dinna ken a place called—” William began.

“Thunder Castle,” Editha interrupted. “Gleaming white upon the shore. Deandrea’s home.”

“A gleaming white castle, is it? There is wealth in this place of which you speak?” Hugo seemed to have overcome his distrust at the mention of Brie’s destination.

“There’s wealth aplenty,” Brie confirmed. If Torquil MacDowylt had stolen from others as he stole from the MacGahan, he must have storage rooms filled to the bursting with treasures.

“We willna go to the Thunder Castle. We would no pass through the gates of Tordenet for a wagon filled with silver.” William crossed his arms. “No Tinkler would.”

“But you can go near to Tordenet, even if you dinna go inside, true?” That was all Brie needed. She’d find her own way in.

“Indeed,” Hugo agreed. “This Tordenet of yers sounds to me to be a place in dire need of the entertainment we can provide. Especially since you say no one goes there.”

“Just get me close. That’s all I ask.” Begging didn’t come easily to Brie, but she was willing to make an exception for so important a cause. “I will be in yer debt.”

“I suppose we are long overdue for a visit to Rowan Cottage.” William looked to his wife, waiting for her nod of agreement.

“It is settled then. We travel to the Thunder Castle.”

F
ourteen

Y
OU’LL STAY WHERE
you are until I say it’s time to stop, aye? And this is no the time I’m choosing to stop.”

Chase had taken just about all of Ulfr’s crap he could stomach. Much more of this over-the-top rudeness to Christiana and he wasn’t sure he’d be keeping his job with the MacDowylt, regardless of whether the Faeries who’d sent him wanted him here.

Punching out your senior officer was likely as bad now as it would be in his own time.

He glanced to Halldor to see his friend’s face uncharacteristically drawn in anger.

Christiana ignored Ulfr as if he’d never spoken, climbing down from the wagon and hopping the final distance to the ground.

“I’m only going as far as the trees. I’ve a need for a moment of privacy, so I’d appreciate yer no following me.”

Seemed a perfectly reasonable request to Chase.

Apparently Ulfr didn’t see it that way. He dismounted and started after her.

There was a definite line between acceptable and unacceptable that Ulfr seemed determined to blunder across. With a tug on his reins, Chase moved his horse forward, blocking his captain’s path.

“And what do you think yer doing?” Ulfr demanded. “I gave an order and I expect it obeyed. We’ve precious little daylight left us as it is, especially with the speed at which this storm is rolling in. We’ve no time to waste.”

“Let her have her moment of privacy. Five minutes one way or another isn’t going to make that much of a difference now.” Chase glanced up toward the dark, heavy clouds roiling overhead. “If we’re going to get caught out in bad weather, whether it’s here or five hundred feet down the trail won’t matter much, now will it?”

Halldor moved his mount closer. “There’s no need for disagreement, gentlemen. Here’s our lady now,” he announced.

Christiana had emerged from the trees, clutching her cloak against the rising wind as she made her way back toward the wagon.

Ulfr stepped around Chase’s horse and strode in her direction, grabbing her arm to jerk her forward, causing her to stumble.

That did it. Line was officially crossed and, job or no job, Chase could tolerate no more of Ulfr’s behavior.

One moment Chase was sliding from his saddle and the next, his fingers closed around the linen
at the back of Ulfr’s neck, bringing the man to an abrupt halt.

“If you plan on keeping that hand, asswipe, you better keep it to yourself,” Chase advised. “Now let go of the lady and get back on your horse.”

Chase led Christiana to the wagon, assisting her up into her seat. Her gasp as she turned had him spinning just in time to avoid Ulfr’s charge.

“Son of a—” Chase ducked under the other man’s arm, leading with an uppercut to Ulfr’s chin that sent the captain staggering sideways against the wagon even as Halldor roared a warning.

Thunder cracked overhead and Christiana screamed as her frightened horses reared and bolted forward. Chase grabbed for Ulfr’s plaid, yanking him away from the out-of-control wagon just in time to avoid his being crushed under the massive wheel. He let the other man fall to the ground, running for his mount, urging his horse to a gallop even before he had both feet in the stirrups.

Christiana had fallen backward over the seat into the bed of the wagon. She wrapped her arms around one of the barrels of flour as the wagon pitched perilously over rocks and dips in the trail with the horses gaining speed.

One side of the wagon lifted entirely up off the ground and hit back down with a loud crash of splintering wood as the back wheel gave way. The horses, in full frenzy, dragged the broken wagon off the trail and through the brush.

Chase was so close now, he could see the reins flapping uselessly over the lead animal’s back. He tried not to think what it meant that Christiana’s body bounced between the barrels like a rag doll. Another few feet and he should be able to reach . . .

The horses darted away in another direction, speeding across an almost dry riverbed, sending the wagon off-kilter. His heart thudded in his chest as he raced toward them, so close he could see Christiana’s face but too far to do more than yell, when the whole thing tilted onto its side and rolled completely over.

As if by some random intervention of a benevolent god, the front of the wagon jammed into the riverbank and the rigging broke free, allowing the horses to stampede on, leaving the broken wagon behind.

“Christiana!” he yelled as he jumped from his horse and squatted beside the wreck, reaching into the small, dark opening between the seat and the wet ground. His touch grazed something soft and he tightened his fingers around his find, the edge of her cloak.

“Christiana? Can you hear me?”

He waited, holding his breath, praying for a response. A noise sounded from the dark—a groan perhaps? It was all the encouragement Chase needed.

He was up, his back against the side of the wagon, straining to lift it off her.

“Halldor!” he called, shifting position to put his shoulder into his effort. He couldn’t do this alone; the wagon was far too heavy. “Help me, Hall. Hurry!”

“On three,” the big man said, landing at his side as he leapt from his horse. “One, two, three!”

Together they pushed the bed of the wagon a few feet up off the ground.

“Move a barrel there.” Halldor motioned down with his head. “I can balance this.”

Trusting his friend to know the limits of his own strength, Chase reached inside to drag one of the barrels under the edge of the wagon bed.

With the side propped up he could see her clearly now, making not even the slightest movement. On his hands and knees he moved to her side, slipping two fingers along the warmth of her neck.

The pulse he felt there, strong and steady, rocked him with relief.

Short-lived relief, as a crunching sound came from the barrel supporting the wagon’s weight.

“Get out of there,” Hall ordered.

Ideally he’d check any victim of an accident for broken bones before moving them, but this situation was about as far from ideal as he could imagine.

On hands and knees, he hooked his hands under Christiana’s arms and began to back out, but something was holding her firmly in place.

Another splintering crunch from the barrel.

“Hurry, little brother. Our brace is not going to hold for much longer.”

“She’s stuck.”

Chase methodically felt along her body, tucking her arms up onto her chest and following lower to her legs, at last finding the problem. One foot was trapped between two barrels, both of which were firmly lodged under the lower edge of the wagon.

“Goddammit,” he growled, ramming his shoulder against one of the barrels without result.

Light blocked out behind him as Hall, on his hands and knees, backed into the opening.

“Back up against the wagon bed. If we push together, we can lift this wooden beast onto her side.”

Chase slid into position and, giving it everything he had, pushed, straightening his legs as he lifted up.

Another splintering crack and the wagon rocked back over onto its side. With the weight of the wagon lifted off the barrels, it was now a simple matter to move them and free Christiana’s foot.

“She lives?” the big man asked, hovering over them.

As if in answer, Christiana groaned.

“She lives,” Chase confirmed, kneeling at her side to brush away the hair splayed across her face.

Another groan and her eyes fluttered open.

“You’ve had yourself quite the little adventure, haven’t you?” he asked, smiling down at her.

“I’m no at all fond of adventure,” she managed through gritted teeth, clutching the hand he offered. “I must reach Orabilis.”

“She wants her wit—” Hall bit off the word before starting again. “She wants her wise woman. That one will be able to heal our lady’s pains.”

“In that case, I’m taking her to her wise woman.”

“I’ve captured the runaway team,” Ulfr called as he rode toward them, leading the panting animals behind him. “They tired of their escape at last.”

Chase was already in his saddle, leaning down to take Christiana from Hall’s arms by the time Ulfr reached their side.

“Here now, what’s this? What do you think yer doing with our laird’s sister?”

Chase had no time for Ulfr’s questions. “If I stay on this path, will it lead me directly to the wise woman?”

“Yes, but . . .” The captain looked from Chase to Hall and back again, his eyes narrowing. “We’re no going forward now. We’ll head back to Tordenet and return with a work detail to repair the wagon.”

“No,
you’ll
head back to Tordenet. Christiana’s hurt. She says this Orabilis can help her, so I’m taking her there.”

Chase urged his horse forward to speed down the trail. It didn’t matter what Ulfr had to say. He was doing what needed to be done, and he’d deal with the consequences later.

“S
TRONG BARRELS, EH?”
Halldor slapped a hand down on one, still intact in spite of the accident. Turning his back on the quickly disappearing rider, he gathered
up the reins of his own animal and climbed into the saddle. “I pray the wise woman’s healing skills are good enough to justify our lady’s faith in her.”

“Good as any, I’d suppose.” Ulfr turned his horse back in the direction they’d come from. “Though you’d no catch me putting my own self into the clutches of one such as her. Wise woman, my arse. A witch she is, plain and simple.”

It would do little good to point out that a talented witch could often be a valuable ally. Such thoughts would be wasted on the likes of this captain. They rode in silence for the next several minutes, the guilt of not having done enough to prevent the accident preying on Halldor’s mind. He should never have lost his temper.

“Unpleasant business, this,” he intoned, as much to himself as to his traveling companion. “I suppose our laird will be heartily displeased at news of his sister’s injuries.”

“Mayhap.” Ulfr shrugged. “But like as no, his ire will be tempered by the knowledge that yer brother is the one he seeks.”

Halldor tugged on his reins, bringing his horse to a stop. He didn’t care for the sound of that. “Explain yourself.”

“My lord directed that I should seek to determine which of you it is that fulfills Mistress Christiana’s Vision. It was foretold that the rightful man would see himself as her defender.”

“Visions? Of future events?”

Now there was a twist he’d not counted on. And if Torquil was so set upon determining which of them had appeared in the good lady’s visions, it seemed only wise to hinder that determination in any way he could.

“Aye,” Ulfr confirmed.

“And it was for this reason you behaved as you did to the good lady we accompanied?”

Ulfr only nodded, as if he suspected he’d already said too much. Perhaps he had.

“It’s not that I want to ruin your plan to tell your laird that my brother is the man he seeks, but I feel that I should be honest with you about one small detail.”

“Aye? And that would be?”

“The only reason it was Chase instead of me who ended up defending our good lady against your rudeness is that I was on the opposite side of the wagon at the time.”

Ulfr swung his head in denial. “No, yer brother was ready to do battle over Mistress Christiana. It’s him, no you, as I figure it.”

“Could be you’re right. Not having all the information available, I’ll be the first to admit I could be wrong.” Halldor paused, waiting for his words to lull the other man. “On the other hand, I can tell you this much for a fact. If I ever see you treating our good lady in such an accursed manner again, I’ll crush your head between my own two hands like a dried apple between rocks. You follow my meaning?”

Ulfr nodded, this time pulling his horse a few steps ahead of Halldor.

That should give the worm something to think over, and something to pass along to his laird, as well.

The silence hung over them for miles, which Halldor appreciated, since it freed him to consider more important matters.

And chief among them was deciding which he found more interesting: that Mistress Christiana frequented Skuld’s world in visions of the future, or that he and Chase Noble somehow figured into those visions.

F
ifteen

C
HASE TIGHTENED HIS
hold on Christiana, berating himself for all his mistakes. Just about everything he could imagine doing wrong, he had done wrong, like some new recruit on his first mission out. He knew better than to be jostling an accident victim cross-country on horseback. Not that he had much choice. He could hardly call for an evac here.