Dragon Knight's Axe (15 page)

“For the love of Odin, Alastair, what are you saying?”

Alastair took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “Ye heard me correctly. Do not fear, for I want to return to the ship. Nevertheless, if I should not, then she is yours to command.”

Gunnar stepped close. His voice was low when he spoke, “I shall await your return,
MacKay
. If the Gods deem you should not come back, they will give us a sign.”

Gripping his friend’s arm, Alastair smiled. “May your Gods be so kind.”

Turning around to the group now gathered at the far end of the dock, Alastair strode forward. Already his senses tingled at the anticipation of taking that first step on land.

“Where to, MacKay?” asked Desmond.

“I have friends yonder past the trees. Food and drink will be plenty, but I fear we will have to sleep outdoors. Though, they will have a place inside for Fiona.”

“I don’t care where I sleep. Anywhere would be wonderful considering the past week,” interjected Fiona and removing her cloak.

“I could not agree with ye more,” stated Kevan.

Alastair was fairly certain the druid was just as anxious to leave the ship. His face had been a mirror of Fiona’s during the entire voyage. “Then follow me. Once there, I will have to attain more horses.”

He led the group away from the harbor and made for the path that would lead them up the hill. Passing by one of his favorite taverns, Alastair longed to quench his thirst with a cup of mead. He quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. Keeping the pace steady, he moved onward letting the energy of the land seep through his body. His fingers flexed with renewed strength. Squirrels dashed about joining them as they climbed higher into the thick pines. Their tall stature threw off a clean, fresh scent and combined with the soil, overwhelmed his senses. Summer had descended in this part of Scotland, and he welcomed the season, along with embracing his power during their journey.

“How much further?” mumbled Fiona. She leaned against a tree wiping the beads of perspiration from her brow.

Alastair paused hearing her question. Seeing her breathing heavily, he frowned. What a fool he had been. She was weak from the voyage. Lack of food and rest depleted her. He raked a hand across his face.

“Do ye need some assistance?” asked Desmond, dropping his sack.

“Gosh, no. I’m fine.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m a little weak, that’s all.”

“MacKay should slow the pace,” hissed Desmond.

Seeing Alastair striding toward her, she waved him off. “I’m all right.” Moving away from the tree, Fiona put her hands on her hips. “See, ready to get going.”

Alastair considered tossing her over his back, but with her brother and the Fenian warrior standing guard, he did not think it would be a wise solution.

“The longer you
gape
at me, the longer it will take us to reach our destination,” she stated.

Alastair blinked. “I can assure ye, Fiona, I do not
gape
.” Moving slightly closer, he added, “I was thinking of throwing ye over my shoulder.” Giving her a wink, he strode back up the hill.

“Over my dead body, MacKay,” growled Desmond, grabbing his sack and taking Fiona’s elbow.

Alastair raised his sword to make his message quite clear. “Feel free to name the time, O’Quinlan.”

Kevan passed by Fiona and Desmond shaking his head. “Ye should not provoke the Dragon Knight. He is on land.”

Desmond snarled, releasing Fiona. “And your point?”

“Because this Knight draws his powers from the land. With one swift thought or gesture, he could strangle you with the roots of one tree,” interjected Rory as he passed between the two men.

“Is he that strong?” Fiona’s tone took on a hushed sound.

“Aye,” nodded Rory. “The land
and
animals.”

Fiona smiled. “Oh my…”

“And that makes ye happy?” Desmond frowned, shaking his head.

“I just find it interesting.”

“He is a dangerous man, not
interesting
,” snapped Desmond.

Clasping Rory’s arm and ignoring her brother, she said, “Well, I would like to hear more. And you seem to be a wealth of information.”

“When you have rested and eaten, we shall continue this conversation. It looks like we have arrived at our humble abode.” Rory stopped a few paces back from where Alastair stood.

“What a beautiful cottage,” mumbled Fiona. “All made of stone and not wood.”

They watched as a man and woman emerged from the cottage. Alastair no sooner greeted the woman than a huge dog came bursting forth and lunged at him.

Fiona gasped.

Alastair heard her, but paid no heed as the deerhound placed its front paws on his chest. “Ye foul smelly beast.” Rubbing his fur, he was greeted with licks and whining.

“What have ye been feeding him, Aymer? He has the look of more weight than when I left him in your care.”

“’Tis not me,” grumbled Aymer. “Ask the wife.”

“Mary?
Not ye
?” mocked Alastair, releasing the dog.

“Whist,” she replied. “The poor wee dog was naught but skin and bones when ye left him with us.”

Alastair wagged a finger at her, but she batted it away.

Rory coughed into his hand to signal their presence.

Turning, Alastair made the introductions, “This is Aymer and Mary MacLean.” He looked to Mary when he asked, “Would it be too much if ye could spare a bed for Fiona?”

“Sakes, Alastair. I would not have the lass sleeping with the likes of ye and your men, even if one is her brother.” Pushing past him, she tucked an arm around Fiona, leading her inside the cottage.

Glancing over her shoulder, she shouted out, “Aymer, show the men where they can lay down their packs.”

Alastair noticed the grin on Fiona’s face as Mary ushered her inside. He shook his head and smiled. “I will need to purchase some horses,” he said turning toward Aymer.

“Aye, thought ye might,” he replied.

****

“You’ve been baking bread,” smiled Fiona as she draped her cloak on one of the chairs, inhaling the aroma.

Mary snorted. “Aye, but not enough for hungry men. I will have to prepare more stew.”

“I could help you.”

“Ye are a guest and from the looks of ye, I ken ye will not stand much longer.”

“The sea voyage sapped most of my strength.” Fiona hesitated before adding, “Let’s just say my stomach did not enjoy the constant bobbing up and down.”

Mary appeared deep in thought, and then she blinked and burst out laughing. Finally dabbing her eyes, she took Fiona’s hand and led her over to a chair. “Ye can chop more vegetables and if one or two happen to make their way into your mouth…”

She left Fiona and took a cup and jug down from the hearth. After pouring the liquid into it, she propped the cup down in front of her. “’Twill help to revive your spirits. ’Tis the first thing I make Alastair drink when he returns from the sea.”

Fiona sniffed its contents and took a sip. She could taste a variety of herbs mixed with water. All she needed were a few ice cubes and she would have called it tea. Taking a few more sips, she set the mug down and proceeded to chop some carrots and turnips. To her left set a basket of mushrooms, which sorely needed the dirt removed.

“How long have you known Alastair?” she asked, shoving a bit of carrot into her mouth.

Mary moved away from the hearth, tapping a finger against her head in thought. “Hmmm…he came to us many moons ago. He had seen battle, and his face needed tending.” She shook her head sadly. “Aymer’s hands are better at stitching than mine, so he did the best he could. Afterwards, he tarried for many moons before taking to the seas. When he would return, this was the first place he would visit.”

Fiona kept chopping the vegetables eager to find out more. Keeping her head down, she asked, “Do you know how he was wounded?”

“Och, nae. He never did tell, and we feared it was no concern of ours. We welcomed him into our home. Weel, him and that beast,” she chuckled softly.

Putting down her knife, Fiona took another sip from her mug. Already feeling much better and more curious, she decided to continue with her questioning. “And what about his brothers?”

“Brothers? Not a whisper of them. And yes, we ken what they are. It was clear when we saw the markings on his back.”

Fiona’s head snapped up. “Excuse me? Markings?” She leaned closer. “What do you mean?”

“The mark of the dragon,” replied Mary.

“Oh my…”

Mary wiped her hands on her smock and took a seat next to Fiona. “Lass, have ye just met the man?”

The heat crept into her face, and Fiona continued to keep her head bent. “Well…ummm, no. Actually, yes…it’s complicated.” Drawing in a huge breath and releasing it, she looked up. “I understand he comes from a family of Dragon Knights, and I was curious to find out more considering we will be traveling together to the Great Glen.”

“I am no longer that man,” said a low voice at the entrance of the door.

Damn, damn, damn! The man moved as silently as a cat.

Alastair moved aside, letting the deerhound stumble inside. Instantly, the animal trotted over to Fiona and put its head in her lap.

She avoided looking at Alastair, for she could only envision the look on his face.
A scowl for certain.

“What a handsome fellow you are,” smiled Fiona as she scratched his ears. Leaning closer, she let out a bark of laughter and lifted her head to meet Alastair’s stare. “You named him, Merlin?”

Instantly regretting the words that slipped out of her mouth, Fiona watched in horror as Alastair’s face went pale.

“How did ye ken?”

Swallowing, Fiona just shrugged.
Busted again.

Desmond came up behind Alastair and did the unthinkable. “The dog probably told her his name.”

Alastair swore softly under his breath and took a few stumbling steps back before making a hasty retreat out of the cottage.

Mary giggled and removed herself back to the hearth mumbling about a fine pair.

Fiona glared at Desmond before turning her attention back to Merlin. She continued to stroke his fur, whispering, “Yes, I understand he can be a pain in the
arse
most days.”

Merlin let out a bark.

Chapter Twenty-One

“The song of the forest is the song of the Faery.”

Sweet, blissful sounds, thought Fiona stretching her arms out above her head. Casting her gaze out to her surroundings, she let the morning song of birds and animals fill her soul. After sleeping like the dead the past few nights, she awoke this morning before the first ray of dawn extended its light over the land, and slipped out of the cottage for some fresh air.

If she never went on board a ship again, she would be incredibly happy. However, the thought of not ever seeing Niall or Brian filled her with sadness.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she wandered aimlessly through the trees, Merlin following quietly. He had become her faithful companion much to Alastair’s dismay. The dog actually groaned when Mary shooed him out of the cottage at night. His pitiful whining had gone on for an hour until Alastair spoke soothing words to Merlin and led him away.

What astonished Fiona was how different the man behaved around animals—the horses, a lone deer, and his dog. Each greeted in hushed tones and with a gentle hand. The man was a layer of complex personalities. One moment a beast, the next, he would be compassionate and offering assistance.

With each step Fiona took, she pondered what trait she would witness next. She shook her head and smiled, recalling how he had purposely provoked an outburst from her brother when Alastair lifted her onto her horse yesterday, and then kept his hand far too long on her thigh. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to smack his hand away. And all the time he’d kept his mouth shut, not a word, not even a mention about her ability to speak with animals. Why did the man have to be so stubborn? She wanted desperately to talk to him.

“Foolish idea, Fiona,” she mumbled.

Merlin let out a sharp bark, snapping her out of her thoughts and sauntered in front of her. He then proceeded to block her path by sitting down. Seeing Rory leaning against a tree, she spoke to the dog. “Rory’s just a friend. He won’t bite.”

“Aye, but I might,” replied Rory. He turned to look at the animal.

Speaking in a language Fiona didn’t recognize Merlin immediately jumped up and ran over toward Rory. “Och, you are a fine protector.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him he may advance toward me.”

Fiona put her hands on her hips. “So the Fae are now Gods?”

Rory responded with an arched brow. “Do not mock the Fae.”

“Oh, I would not dream of doing so. Although, it’s still up for interpretation when it comes to you.”

Rory stepped away from the tree, standing in front of her. “I make no apologies, or excuses for what I have done, Fiona. It is what I am.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “If it was the other way around, I’m positive you would think the same.”

“That’s a
human
response.”

“And yours is a
Fae
. We will agree to disagree, right?”

Rory let out a sigh. “Aye, for now.” He glanced back up at the sky, and Fiona sensed there was more.

“What’s wrong, Rory?”

He gave her a fleeting look before stepping back. “I will not be going any further with you on your journey. I have been ordered to withdraw from Scotland.”

Fiona’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Excuse me? Ordered?” Before she could utter another syllable, Alastair and Desmond came forth.

“There ye are, Fiona. We are ready to depart. Have ye broken your fast?” asked Desmond.

Her mind swimming with Rory’s revelation, she nodded her head in affirmative.

Alastair stood back within the trees and gave a sharp whistle for Merlin. The dog let out a bark and trotted over to him. Giving him a quick pat, he turned to leave.

“Rory won’t be coming with us,” Fiona blurted out.

Slowly, Alastair turned back around with a smirk on his face. “’Tis always the same, is it not, Fae warrior? Ye make a pledge to help and along the way ye
suddenly
have to leave.”