Page 43 of A Laird and a Gentleman

After all the years she’d kept herself locked away from further abuse and pain, could she allow herself to be vulnerable, and open her heart to him? There was only one way to find out.

More anxious than before to return to her, Cameron spurred his horse into a faster gait. Behind him, his men did the same, eager to see their own loved ones again.

His attention back on the last leg of their journey, Cameron suddenly noted that far above them the sky had shifted from brilliant blue to gray, with darker clouds on the horizon. A light breeze rustled through the treetops, but it did not sound like wind. Instead, the noise was slightly akin to screeching, except there were no birds in the sky. To the west of the caravan, four deer bounded past, unfazed by the presence of humans.

“Something feels wrong,” Cameron said to his second in command as he rode up beside him.

“Agreed,” Keith MacFarlane said. “We’ve both been through summer storms before.”

They were seven miles from Ravenscraig and any sort of shelter—if this truly was a storm. It was then that the air filled with a heavy, decaying scent, almost like that of rotten eggs.

“Is the woodland on fire?” Keith asked as he scoured the distance ahead.

“Looks more like the God is preparing us to face hell’s flames,” Conall replied, bringing his horse between Cameron’s and Keith’s.

Cameron’s fingers tightened around the reins he held. “Something is definitely wrong here and my gut says we need to risk going even faster.”

To a man, they all agreed and the horses lunged forward at a dead run. Within three miles of the castle, heavy, black clouds started rolling in. Within moments, Cameron and his men were enveloped.

The horses made high-pitched raspy sounds as they slowed their pace, then stopped. Terrified of the sudden darkness, they lifted their forefeet into the air, snorting their distress.

“Easy, Bucephalus.” Cameron tried to calm the horse beneath him even as his own heart thundered in his chest. Everything was pitched into darkness and it grew hard to breathe—as though the air had no life in it any longer. He forced a deep breath, realizing the air contained a gritty substance: almost like ash.

An ice-like chill slithered down his spine. Nay, it was ash that weighed the air down and made it hard to breathe. “Use anything you can to cover not only your own nose and mouth, but also your horse’s.” Cameron grabbed the edge of his shirt and tore it upward and to the side until he came away with a significant length of linen, which he tore in half. He tied one cloth about his face, blocking out the ash but not the smell of death and destruction. Ash fell like snow all around them, the sound reminding Cameron of rain.

Cameron quickly dismounted and tied the second cloth around his horse’s muzzle. “It will be all right, Bucephalus,” he soothed the terrified beast, though he doubted the truth of his own words. Nothing appeared to be right with the world.

Slowly, the darkness eased enough for Cameron to see the dim shadows of his men and their horses. The ash grew heavier, falling in sheets and gathering in a thick layer of grayish white upon the ground.

“We will have to walk the horses the rest of the way. The ground is too slick for any of us to go much faster, and visibility is low. Stay close.” Cameron grabbed the reins and led his horse forward. He could hear the others behind him as he fixed his gaze, searching through the haze ahead.

Mariam. He had to believe she and all the others were safe and well, inside the castle walls.

Chapter Fourteen

When all the castle residents were tucked in places that kept them safe from the ash, Mariam had covered her nose and mouth with linen, then left the safety of the castle to gather the animals. In the outer courtyard, the sheep she had led in earlier were eager to follow her into the stables and joined the remaining horses there. When that building was full, she drew both sheep and cattle into the barracks, since all the remaining warriors were now inside the sickroom she had set up.

After seeing that the animals had as much protection as possible as well as what remained of the fresh food and water, she returned inside, coughing ash from her lungs.

At Mariam’s return to the great hall, Vivian looked up from where she cradled a young boy by the name of Jasper in her arms. The lad’s heartbreaking cough had disappeared during the night and his cheeks were no longer pale. “I can see by the ash coating your clothing that the air is still thick.”

“It’s getting heavier.” Mariam removed her face covering and shook off the ash before stepping fully into the chamber.

Vivian gently settled the boy back on his pallet with a promise to return to him soon, then stood. “And the animals?” She made her way through the pallets to Mariam’s side.

“They are safe enough for now,” Mariam said. “How are the patients?”

Vivian’s face brightened. “At least there is good news there. Only two remain in the grip of fever. The others are now resting comfortably. I believe we have slain that dragon.”

“Only to be beset by another.”

The two women stared at each other for a long moment. They’d had no time to get to know one another in a conventional way. Yet a deep bond already existed between them. Vivian reached out and took Mariam’s hands. “Is there anything you can do to settle this ash storm?”

“I don’t know, but I have to try.” Mariam pressed her lips together with resolve.

Vivian squeezed then released Mariam’s hands. “Would you like me to come with you?”

“Nay,” Mariam replied. “You are needed here.”