Ian (13 page)

“What’s a young, bonnie lassie like ye doin’ in a place like this anyway?” he asked.

“We’re jest passin’ through,” she said.

“How aboot somethin’ te eat? Me wife has made a new batch o’ pottage.”

Just then, a serving girl walked past them with a tray and a big bowl of pottage atop it. The scent of the thick soup chocked full of vegetables and meat suddenly seemed like the fresh scent of roses in a place as stale as this. It did smell good, and her stomach rumbled.

“Nay, no’ now,” she said,
even though she was very hungry.

The pubkeeper scanned the room with his eyes, then leaned over, pushing his face close to hers and whispered. “Then h
ow would ye like te meet with me later?”

“Nay!” she pushed him away
and glanced back to the door as she waited for Ian. She wished now that she had gone with him. “I’m with someone if ye didna notice.”

“Are ye
two married?” the man asked.

“Nay. But I’m betrothed. I’m on me way right now te marry one o’ the MacTavishes.”

When the pubkeeper heard this, his smile turned into a frown and he backed away slightly, standing up straight. “So ye are the MacKeefe thet’s bein’ sent te marry a MacTavish as part o’ an alliance. Which one o’ the bastards are ye marryin’, lass?”

“I dinna ken which one I’m marryin’, but aye, I am the one.”

“If I didna think Tearlach would curse me, I’d throw ye outta here right now.”

“Curse ye? What do ye mean? Ye sound as if this ma
n has some sort of witchery aboot him.”

“He does, lassie. Where have ye been thet ye havena heard the stories?”

“What stories?” she asked.

“Thet Tearlach was killed by
one o’ his own clanmembers and now he’s come back te life.”

“That’s ridiculous. No one can come back te life.”

“He can and he did,” said the man opening his eyes wide. “And if ye are goin’ te be marryin’ inte the clan then ye be doomed jest like thet poor lassie, Daghda.”

“Daghda?” she asked curiously, remembering the name Ian had called out in his sleep. “Who is that?”

“She’s the witch thet Tearlach burned at the stake. Thet is, right afore he was killed.”

“All right, I took care o’ me hound,” said Ian coming back to join them. “Why are ye still here, Kyla? I told ye te head up to the room.”

“She’s been tellin’ me how she’s betrothed te a MacTavish,” said the man.

“
Kyla . . . did ye really?”

She
could see that stern look of disappointment on Ian’s face again. The look he’d often given her through the years when he thought she’d done something wrong. Then he shook his head and clenched his jaw. Now she wondered if she should have just kept quiet. Still, if Ian wasn’t going to tell her anything about the clan she was marrying into, then she was going to have to find out somehow.

“This man said that
the clan’s chieftain, Tearlach MacTavish has risen from the dead. And that he burned a lassie te deith becooz she was a witch.”

“
Really.” Ian’s eyes bore into the pubkeeper and darkened a few shades. His face was stone-like and he didn’t even seem to breathe. Then, his lip curled up a bit and he spoke with his eyes still fastened to the man. “Blethers, dinna listen te this nonsense, Kyla. And we’ll no’ have any more o’ this kind o’ talk tonight.”

“But she needs te ken if she is goin’ te be marryin’
inte the clan. After all, she may be marryin’ auld Tearlach himself,” said the pubkeeper.

“Quit tryin’ te scare her,”
growled Ian. “It’s naught more than the waggin’ tongues o’ these drunkards jest tryin’ te start a brawl, I tell ye. Tearlach is deid and nothin’ is goin’ te bring him back te life.”

“Well, if no’ then I’ve seen a ghost
, becooz auld Tearlach sat right here on this stool and spoke te me and drank me whisky no’ more then two nights ago.”

“Nay, ye’re mistaken,” said Ian, grabbing Kyla’s arm and dragging her up the stairs. Kyla didn’t know why Ian was so upset.
And she wondered why he’d been so adamant that the man was dead, even when people swore they’d seen him. After all, what did Ian really know about this clan? There was no way he could be so sure. With the way he was acting, if she didn’t know better she would have guessed that Ian had killed the man himself.

Chapter 12

Ian threw open the door to the room and stormed inside, feeling his whole body shaking in rage after what he’d just heard downstairs. He dropped the travelbags atop a chair and went back and slammed the door. Then he looked around, and started dragging a trunk across the room and placed it in front of the door.

“What
are ye doin’?” asked Kyla, walking over to the window and pulling open the shutters that covered it, letting in a breeze to help freshen the stale air.

“Keep that closed,” he said and rushed over
and slammed it shut.

“God’s eyes, Ian, what
the hell is the matter with ye?” she asked. “Ye seemed spooked or somethin’.” She pulled off her arisaid and hung it on a hook on the wall.

“Watch yer
language, Kyla. Ye ken Aidan disna like ye spewing oaths like a weathered docksman.

“Well, Aidan isna here, and I am tired o’ e’eryone tellin’ m
e what I can and canna do.” She walked over and inspected the pallet, wondering what kind of vermin were living inside. Then she pulled a blanket out of the travelbag and laid it atop the pallet before sitting upon it and removing her shoes.

“Sleep with yer shoes on tonight, as we may have te leave quickly.” Ian was checking every nook and cranny in the room as if he were expecting someone to jump out.

“What is it thet’s scarin’ ye so much?” she asked. “I’ve ne’er seen ye act like this afore.”

“I’m no’ scared.” He turned to face her, his hand on the hilt of his sword all the while.
“Jest cautious, thet’s all.”

“It’s somethin’ aboot thet story of Tearlach comin’ back te life thet’s scarin’ ye, isna it?”

“Why would ye say thet?” He sank down atop a chair slowly and just looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Becooz I ken how afeard of ghosts and witches ye are. After all, when me brathair told thet ghost story last year and Onyx snuck up and grabbed ye from behind, ye almost pissed in yer braies as well as jumped in the fire.” She laughed just remembering the incident, as it was almost refreshing to see such a brave warrior like Ian, who’d fought in many battles and taken down more men than she could count, being afraid of a ghost.

“I didna do thet,” he said, pulling his sword from his sheath and laying it across his lap. He took the sleeve of his leine and started to shine it.

“Ye did
too, tho ye dinna want te admit it. Ye are afeard o’ somethin’ or someone and I ken it. Now what is it thet ye’er keepin’ from me? Ye ken thet sooner or later I’m goin’ te find out, so ye may as well tell me what’s botherin’ ye.”

“It’s nothin’.” He put down his swor
d and walked over to the travelbags and pulled out some bread. “Let’s have somethin’ te eat and get some sleep. We’re leavin’ at first light.”

“How aboot I go down te the pub and get some o’ thet pottage they were cookin’ up?” she asked, feeling so hungry, she knew bread wasn’t going to be enough.
“After all, it smelled delicious.”

“Nay, this is fine.” He pulled a sheep bladder filled with mountain magic out of the trave
lbag next and opened it and took a swig. Then he handed it to her.

“I really would like some o’ thet pottage,” she said, taking a swig of the mountain magic, liking the way
it trailed a burning path through her chest and to her stomach. She prided herself in being the only woman in the camp to actually be able to drink the stuff and still stand afterwards. But she’d had lots of practice keeping up drinking with her brother and his friends through the years and it really didn’t affect her that much any more.

“
Kyla, ye shouldna have told the pubkeeper where we were goin’ and thet ye are te be married te one o’ the MacTavishes. Especially since the stableboy told us thet the MacTavishes caused trouble here lately. Information like thet is goin’ te get us killed.”

“Well, he did
na kill us, so ye can jest relax,” she said. “Besides, I think the man is daft te think he was talkin’ te Tearlach. After all, ye said yerself the man is deid. But are ye sure, Ian?”

“I’m sure,” he said, but his words didn’t sound convincing.

“But how can ye be sure? Was it somethin’ ye heard from someone? After all, unless someone was part o’ the MacTavish clan, how would they really ken what happened?”

“Kyla, please. I din
na want te talk aboot this any more.”

“And even if he was a ghost, then it wouldna matter, becooz I dinna think ghosts can really hurt anyone, do ye?”

“Haud yer wheest,” he told her, but she kept on going.

“I’ll find out
when I marry inte the clan. But I’m sure I’m no’ marryin’ a damned ghost. What do ye think, Ian?”

“I think I’m tired o’ hearin’ ye talk aboot this, now jest stop it.”

“O’ course I can probably find out more aboot this ghost if I go downstairs and get some pottage. I ken thet hoors have loose tongues, so mayhap they’ll tell me somethin’.”

“Ye’re no’ goin’ anywhere and ye’re no’ goin’ te be talkin’ te any hoors. Now I’ll go down there and get ye some pottage if it’ll shut ye up, but after thet, I dinna want te hear another word aboot ghosts or witches, do ye understand me?”

“All right,” she said, now more curious than ever to find out more. “Whate’er ye say.”

She watched him pull the trunk away from the door and slip out into the hall. “Now push this trunk
back against the door again while I’m gone.”

“What fer?”

“Becooz there are no locks on these doors and I saw the way those drunkards were eyeing ye up when we came in. Now jest do it.”

“Fine,” she said, and made her way across the room, and pushed the trunk into place. It was heavy, but she knew it would do nothing to stop someone from entering if they really wanted to. She didn’t know why Ian was acting this way, but it w
as starting to disturb her. She’d never seen him so skittish. Something was upsetting him, and the only time she’d ever seen him act like this before was three years ago. Right after he came back to the clan after having disappeared for an entire year. Everyone had thought he’d been killed, but low and behold one day he just showed up and acted like he’d never been gone at all.

But she’d seen the darkness in his eyes that day, and also a deep sadness mixed with a little fear. Much like what she’d just witnessed once again. And it seemed to be brought
on by the fact the pubkeeper was talking about Tearlach coming back from the dead. She didn’t know what Ian was keeping from her, but she only had one more day to find out. Because once he left her at the MacTavishes she knew there was a good chance she’d never see him again. And that was one thought that had her deeply upset, because she couldn’t imagine a life without Ian.

Chapter 13

Kyla awoke with a start as she felt someone grab her. Her eyes opened wide, and when she looked down and saw someone’s hand on her breast, she realized Ian was laying next to her, snuggled up behind her on the single pallet, and his arm was thrown protectively over her.

He stirred and mumbled something in
his sleep and she knew he was not aware of what he was doing. She liked being in his embrace. It sent a feeling of secure satisfaction through her. She would miss this once she was married to a MacTavish and she was someone else’s wife. All she really wanted was to be Ian’s wife, but it no longer mattered. It was too late for a relationship between them, as now she was naught more than a pawn in a game of war. And if she tried to back out of the alliance, many people would probably die because of her.

She wanted to cry, she really did. But what good what that do? It wouldn’t bring about any changes and it wouldn’t change the way Ian felt about her either, so why bother. Instead, she held back her tears.

And then she heard Ian cry out in his sleep, and he seemed very distraught.

“
Daghda,” he cried. “Nay! Daghda.”

“Ian?” she said softly, but he just turned the other way on the pallet and continu
ed sleeping. She wondered how he knew this person named Daghda that he’d called for more than once now. It wasn’t a very common name and she wondered if it were the same person that the pubkeeper had told her about. The witch that was burned at the stake.

She heard the sound of Kyle barking from outside, and sat up and pulled on her s
hoes quickly. She felt disappointed that Ian hadn’t tried to kiss her again last night, but after he’d returned with the pottage and they’d eaten, he’d lain down and just went to sleep. She hadn’t persisted trying to talk to him any more, as she knew he was tired and that they had more travelling to do in the morning, so she’d just laid down next to him and went to sleep as well.