Page 18 of Highlander’s Hope

“Since I canna tell ye of my own travels, let me tell ye about a great red-haired hero called Seaghán. He was tall and big and brave, and as strong as a great oak tree. His hair flared like flames, and he fought with the bravery of a hundred men.”

Her eyes watered as she remembered Ian training with swords in the courtyard with her brother Owen. She was eighteen years old the last time she saw Ian in the courtyard of Glenkeld. He’d been fostered with her family as long as she could remember, and he was like a brother to her.

“He had a sister and three brothers, and all of them loved each other. Even at his young age, people looked at him with respect, and his enemies cowered in fear. While they were growing up, a son of the king fostered with them. They all grew up together and knew each other well. Soon, it became apparent that the prince was as evil as his father. Unfortunately, the prince wanted Seaghán’s sister. He did things when they were children…” Her throat clenched as she remembered Alasdair torturing a frog and twisting a duckling’s neck. “He did things that made her fear him. She started avoiding him, and that made him want to chase her even more. He’d take her by the arm too strongly, or pull her hair so hard she cried. But whenever Seaghán saw that, he’d protect her and make the prince stop.”

“Evil bastart,” Colin muttered sleepily. His eyes were still open, but he was starting to drift off.

“Oh, aye. One day, the evil king wanted to take the their home.” She skipped the part when Owen, her younger half-brother, lost MacDougall gold intended for King John Balliol, which started the feud between the two clans. She skipped the part when Alasdair kidnapped and her clan came to her rescue. “Seaghán lived in the castle together with his family. It was big and beautiful, with walls as tall as mountains and as thick as boulders. It was built on a small island in the middle of a loch.”

She was talking about Innes Chonnel Castle. It had been the previous clan seat where her grandfather Colin had lived and where Craig had taken her after the clan saved her. A few months after she was freed from Dunollie, she’d still been recovering mentally and had lived mostly in a fog. She’d locked herself in her bedchamber and had been terrified to come out. Nightmares had tortured her, while in her heart, she was hollow and cold. She’d wondered if she’d ever feel again and had been coming to terms with the fact she carried something of Alasdair inside of her.

“The evil king came with birlinns and hundreds of warriors. Everyone in Seaghán’s clan thought the castle was invincible. But it wasn’t. The enemy warriors climbed the walls like spiders. Fire arrows landed on the thatched roofs and wooden constructions.”

She remembered screams, and the smell of smoke and death. And all that reminded her too much of Dunollie. The memories pulled her back in time…

Panic and fear tore at Marjorie from all sides. She screamed, hearing her own voice as though from a distance. Someone came into her oom, and strong hands took her in a safe grasp.

“Marjorie.”

Brown eyes and blazing-red hair came into focus in front of her.

“Marjorie, ‘tis Ian. I’ve come to take ye. We’re leaving Innes Chonnel.”

She stopped screaming.

“Good lass. Can ye walk?”

“Aye.”

“Good. Then let’s go.”

She walked behind him on shaking legs, bile rising in her stomach. They climbed down the narrow stone stairs, one, two, three flights. Just before they walked into the courtyard, Ian stopped and turned to her. “I want ye to listen to me. The MacDougalls have come to take the castle.”

She jerked in reaction to the name, her gut clenching like a tight fist. Horror rode through her in a black, icy-cold wave.

“Dinna fash, they wilna take ye,” Ian said. “I’d rather die than let them take you.”

Marjorie bit her lip, fighting to stop the panic from her memory taking her over now.

“The evil king was winning,” she continued her story to Colin. “His men infiltrated the castle and swarmed the courtyard like wasps. Seaghán wanted to get his sister on the boat evacuating the women and children of their clan. But just as he got her out of the castle and close to the boat, a band of the king’s warriors reached him.”

She squeezed her son’s hand and buried her nose in his hair, inhaling the clean, herbal scent of him.

“One had a great sword, the other a spear, the third an ax. They came at him all at once, from three sides just as his sister got on the boat. The boatsman pushed the boat off the shore and began rowing away. Seaghán’s sister watched in horror as he fought the three men. He killed the one with the sword, but while he fought the axman, the man with the spear wounded his shoulder. The last thing his sister saw before the boat arrived at the opposite shore and she had to run together with the other women and children, was that Seaghán had been gravely wounded near his heart and had stopped moving.”

She wiped the tears from one cheek, and Colin reached and wiped them from the other.

“Did he die?” he said.

Marjorie nodded. “The clan had to retreat after that, leaving their seat to their enemy, and their hero’s body as well. He died saving his sister.”

Not just his sister, but his nephew, too. And she’d never forget that.

She glanced at the shadows. Thank you for watching over him, Ian.

She kissed Colin’s forehead and tucked him in. “Good night, my sweet, let yer dreams be restful and safe. The heroes of yer clan are watching over ye.”

She blew out the candle and walked to the door, leaving only the dim light of the glowing ambers in the fireplace to illuminate the room.