Page 21 of Highlander’s Haunted Past

“Are ye sure?” the Queen asked subtly as if asking for her to confirm a bit of mediocre gossip.

“Aye! How many times do I have to swear it?”

“‘Til ‘tis the truth,” the Queen said with a nod, and Kenna’s consciousness was burned to ash in a wave of fire and flame.

Kenna?

Kenna looked about her for the voice. Where was she? Inverness? No. It was the camp. Back by that little fire, where she sat alone on Rob’s plaid. He was yelling at the guards, angry that they had interrupted. Kenna was angry too. Realizing she was angry, Kenna turned away from Rob to look out at the trees, hiding the furious return of her blush.

Kenna?

She should get away now, while Rob was distracted, and retreat to the safety of the tent where the distance between her and Rob was firm and comfortable and didn’t make her heart pound so hard that she could hear it in her ears. Yes, now was the time. She began to pull herself to her feet.

Wake her up, now.

The pain in her legs made her wince, and she collapsed back to the ground with a thud, grateful Rob hadn’t seen. And then there it was, the arrow whizzing toward them from the darkness of the trees and just over her head. It was so close. If she hadn’t fallen, it might have even hit her.

I do not care how you do it, just do it!

Kenna couldn’t turn to see where the arrow went, but her eyes instead fell to the place where it had come. The trees. So dark, so elusive. But there it was, a rustle and the flash of gold in the moonlight.

“Kenna!”

Kenna felt her mind ripped away from that little fire as cold water exploded over her face. Her nose was flooded with the smell of burnt cotton and flesh while her arm seared with pain so sharp that she wouldn’t have been surprised to find it still aflame.

The Queen looked disappointed, her eyes pitying. “It was just yer arm, lass. Honestly, to faint after such a wee bit.”

“I—” Kenna mumbled, her brain going back to the flash of gold, but she didn’t understand it enough herself. There would be no way to articulate it now.

“Yes?” The Queen asked, tilting her head to the side. “No? Anything? Shall we give it another go?”

“Yer Majesty, might I have a word?”

God bless the Earl of Sutherland, Kenna thought.

There he was, standing out starkly against the crowd of nobles that were looking firmly at their feet. He had never looked so heroic as he did now, his face smooth with calm and his eyes cast firmly ahead.

“What?” Queen Mary snapped at him.

He bowed deeply, surprising everyone with how low he could go before that belly of his hit his thighs.

“More men are emerging from the forest. As was the case with the earliest reports, they were unable to find a soul.”

Kenna couldn’t help feeling that Sutherland was ultimately unhelpful as the Queen rounded back onto Kenna, screaming, “Where did they go?”

“Yer Majesty,” Sutherland interjected, waddling forward. “I must also report my own expressed opinion on the matter. While they could find no single man, they could also find no trace of an army, large or small. Yer own guard claimed to have only seen one man.”

“Are ye suggesting that the Queen is incorrect in her accusations?” chirped the Lockhart with a look of feigned horror.

“I am saying that it may be wise to investigate the poor guard a bit more deeply than we have done thus far. Perhaps it was a personal vendetta rather than the work of a traitor.”

“How dare ye contradict the Queen!” the advisor chimed in again. “And this is not the first time! Yer Majesty, the Earl of Sutherland is always sticking his nose where it ought not to be. Yer Majesty’s royal instincts are a divine blessing from God. So, if ye believe that Clan Gordon is responsible, then it is likely to be true!”

Kenna really wanted to kick the Lockhart or, better yet, see him stumble upon the hot poker that his queen loved so much. Now that would be a divine blessing if there ever was one.

“I am not clearing Clan Gordon of blame, necessarily,” Sutherland said again, this time with a bit of trepidation in his voice, forcing Kenna to wonder if he was truly the hero she had thought him to be. “But if it was Clan Gordon, perhaps it was a lone man. Just one who was operating outside of the Earl of Huntly’s orders. They could have seen us pass by and decided to act of their own accord.”

“Then this Gordon lass could still ken the truth of it, could she not?” the advisor countered with a victorious smirk.