CHAPTER 29
When the others passed the stone bridge in front of her, Nathaira finally had a moment to study the prisoner out of the
corner of her eye. The girl seemed baffled and not exactly overjoyed about leaving McLean territory. The sharp winds had
brought a good color to her cheeks, but Nathaira found her to be quite plain. Still, if Alasdair had spoken the truth
the night before, then one of the McLean men must have taken a liking to her.
Or perhaps it was Ross, the young upstart, for he had been trying to make a name for himself for the longest time,
always trying to keep up with his older half brothers. At any rate, as he sat on his horse with the Cameron wench in
front of him, the smug and satisfied expression on his face seemed to imply as much.
Even Duncan and Dougal, the twin brothers, certainly seemed pleased with themselves, and only Blair riding beside her
acted as detached and aloof as he always did. Nathaira wondered what was so special about this Cameron woman that she
was that important to the twins. What were they up to? One thing for sure was that she would need to keep an eye on that
lass.
Dark storm clouds gathered above the mountains to the east. The wind picked up and blew strands of shiny black hair from
her face. Nathaira took a deep breath. She loved the wind. It was brash and wild and free, just like she always wanted
to be. It also had enormous unseen strengths at its disposal.
Nathaira let go of the reins and opened her arms. Her cloak billowed behind her, almost seeming like it wanted to raise
her up and give her wings.
Again she looked at the mysterious woman who was pulling her shawl tighter in the icy breeze.
Earlier, Nathaira had fetched the prisoner on Fingal’s orders. She was to give her a chance to collect her belongings
before leaving.
Fingal had been livid about having to give in to the twin brothers’ demands regarding the Cameron woman, but she was
still the Stuarts’ prisoner and not the McLeans’.
Still, or so Fingal had said, he was eager to discuss his claim to the girl with Cathal. Except Cathal hadn’t been able
to make today’s journey due to new incidents at the border, and Fingal had had to admit a temporary defeat.
Nathaira scowled. Had the old man taken a liking to that wisp of a girl? Her suspicions were fueled when he had insisted
that Blair accompany the prisoner and ensure her safety until he could come to an agreement with Cathal.
Nathaira stuck out her chin and straightened when she caught up to the men. She was sick of worrying about that skinny,
unimportant wallflower. Instead, she wanted to find out more about the situation on the Stuarts’ front lines. She had
overheard some voices wanting to see Cathal replaced as clan chief, with Duncan taking his place. And those voices
needed to be silenced! Only Cathal was the rightful clan chief and heir. All of her love and affection was for him.
Never in her life had there been another person she had respected and trusted—and to whom she meant something.
Her stepmother, Una, had hated her and made sure she was aware of this every day of her life, until she was left with no
choice but to poison that wicked woman who’d never been a mother to her. Not a single day went by that Nathaira
regretted what she had done.
And her father, the mighty Grant Stuart, a despicable demon who had violated so many women: her own mother, countless
maidservants, and of course Duncan and Dougal’s mother. She hadn’t dared kill him, but she was glad when he died.
Only Cathal, her brother—who to this day did not know that they did not share the same mother—had always stood by her.
He had saved her many a time from the bitter Una’s blows. And for that, she loved him. Which was why it was imperative
for him to stay clan chief: She couldn’t bear to submit to someone else’s powers and abuse ever again. She would
sacrifice anything and everything for Cathal.
Her thoughts wandered to Alasdair, the love of her life, whose love and child she had already sacrificed. Now she had
nothing left to lose.
Night had fallen when Payton and Kyle returned after a long day of working on the pasture fence. They had been standing
in mud and dirt up to their knees while digging holes for new fence posts and then hammering them in. Several miles of
fence remained to be built around the newly cleared woodlands, so that they could drive the cattle here from their
summer pasture before the fall of winter. They had never needed fences before, but it seemed the most sensible thing to
do after all the trouble they’d experienced in previous years.
Kyle was whining as they entered the castle yard through the main gate.
“My hands are all blisters! I won’t be able to hold as much as a spoon tomorrow.”
Payton looked down at the calluses on his own hands, and he had to agree. Driving the rough-cut wooden stakes into the
earth had been hard work. He blushed ever so slightly when he pictured how he would bring Sam to affectionately care for
him and his aching hands.
“Say, have the Stuarts left?” Kyle’s question startled him out of his daydreams.
“What did you say?”
“I’ve been looking forward to a nice big feast at the end of a long day, but it would appear that the Stuarts have
left. Which means that Father will only spring for some fried herring for supper,” Kyle grumbled.
Payton took a good look around. Indeed, he didn’t even see the wolfhounds that had been monopolizing the castle yard
these past few days.
Their boots left muddy prints on the stone floor as they entered the Great Hall. Everything was quiet in here, too. Only
two male servants and the blacksmith’s young apprentice were sitting together and playing a game of cards. They looked
up briefly when the two brothers entered but, after greeting them, turned back to their game.
Payton and Kyle had missed supper, so it was no surprise that all the guests would have by now withdrawn to their
chambers for the night. The hall was cold and drafty, and even Payton shivered from the cold, wet mud still sticking to
his lower legs.
He said a regretful good-bye to the idea of letting Sam massage him to sleep. While he briefly considered paying her a
visit in her bedchambers, he decided against it. In his current sorry state of filth, he wouldn’t make much of a
favorable impression on any woman. Not even if he brought her the gift he had arranged for her in his chambers.
“Well, there’s no way I’m going to bed hungry!” Kyle griped as he headed for the arch door leading to the kitchen.
Shrugging, Payton followed his younger brother.
The kitchen was warm and cozy, and Kyle helped himself from the loaf of bread, the butter churn, and the honey jar. Then
he lifted every lid of every pot in search of extra delicacies. When he reached the beef and vegetable stew, he nodded,
ladling a generous helping into a wooden bowl. He handed it over to Payton, who in the meantime had found a warm,
comfortable spot on the wooden bench in the corner.
Dish upon dish started piling up on Kyle’s plate, until he looked sufficiently satisfied and sat down with his brother.
Payton raised his eyebrows and grinned at all the food.
“What? I’m still growing,” Kyle defended himself, dipping a chunk of bread into his stew.
“Kyle, you’ve already outgrown Father by several inches. If you keep eating like this, you’re only going to grow
sideways.”
“Amadáin!” Kyle’s only reply was the curse word and a well-aimed kick against Payton’s shin under the table.
They ate their stew in silence, and it was only when Payton got up to get a cup of beer that Kyle asked, “Why did you
consort with Samantha?”
Payton let the dark ale flow from the barrel directly into his cup.
“What do you mean?” He tried to evade the question.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve got eyes, you know.”
“Well, then you don’t need to ask.”
Payton regretted having poured himself all that beer, because now he would have to stay and answer all of Kyle’s
questions until the cup was empty. He took a big gulp.
“She’s a pretty girl,” Kyle noted simply.
“Aye.”
“And she smells nice,” Kyle went on.
Payton lifted his head. “How do you know?”
Kyle smirked. “Wrong answer. ‘I wouldn’t know’ would have been the correct answer. Besides, you should have made
more of an effort to disguise the jealousy in your voice.”
Payton didn’t respond. He couldn’t lie to Kyle. But he also had no intention of discussing his innermost feelings with
his brother like an old blabbermouth.
“I see, mo bràthair. Well, Sam seems very nice. If she weren’t a Cameron, I might actually take a liking to her
myself.”
Payton squinted, suddenly angry. “Are my feelings wrong only because she’s a Cameron? Should I deny my feelings on
account of that? Love her any less for such a ridiculous reason?”
Kyle’s eyes widened. “You love her?”
Payton buried his face in his hands.
“Well, what do you think?” he stammered without looking up.
Kyle slammed the flat of his hand down on the table.
“Then you’ll have to tell Father. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to bring misery upon you by sending her away with
Cathal. Did you know Duncan was planning on questioning her? Luckily, she’s safe here with us.”
The sheer thought made Payton shudder. Cathal’s half brothers were vicious bullies who lacked any sense of honor and
decency. Committing Sam to their care would surely send her to a violent death. He knew how delicate and fragile she
was. A well-aimed blow to the head would easily strike her down.
“You’re right. I have to talk with Father. But it’s not that easy. Sam is…well, I don’t know how to explain it. She
’s different.”
The incredulous expression on Kyle’s face prompted Payton to continue.
“She’s got the gift of second sight. She sees things. She says the Fates have sent her here to save my life.”
He knew how crazy that must sound, but there was no doubt in his heart that it was exactly as he had explained—exactly
as she had told him. He had seen proof, even if that proof raised many more questions than it answered.
Kyle massaged his chin. A deep vertical line popped up on his forehead.
“You believe her. You trust her.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact.
“Aye, I believe her. She says something terrible is about to happen,” Payton admitted quietly.
Once again, Kyle frowned. “And you believe that, too?”
“Aye, Brother. I believe that, too.”
I didn’t get much of a chance to take a closer look at Castle Galthair. Right after we passed the gate, Ross had taken
me to a room that I suspected was the guardroom. At any rate, there were four tough and sturdy-looking warriors sitting
together on simple wooden benches. They looked up as I was being brought in. The stench of BO was overwhelming, and I
confined myself to breathing as shallowly as possible.
Ross greeted the men and exchanged a few words in Gaelic with them before leading me to one of the free tables and
setting down my travel pouch beside me.
“Stay here. As soon as I’ve taken care of the horses, I will come to get you.” He motioned at the googly-eyed brutes
in the room. “They will keep an eye on you, so no funny business.”
What was happening? He wasn’t going to leave me alone with those savages, was he? I clung to his arm, begging him to
take me with him. “But I can assist you,” I offered, but Ross shrugged off my hand.
“I told you I was coming to get you! Now go sit down and let me do my work.”
With that, he walked out of the guardroom. He briefly turned around in the doorway. He clicked his tongue, and Barra the
dog trotted in casually. When she reached my side, she turned around twice in a circle before lying down at my feet. She
looked tired, but she was alert—and she carefully watched the four men.
I gave Ross a grateful smile as he disappeared. I was sure he had left the dog here for my protection.
I pulled the pouch into my lap and was greatly relieved to feel the handle of the dagger I had once again tied to my
thigh. The brief moment that Nathaira had granted me to use the chamber pot behind the folding screen had been enough to
hide the knife under my dress. I was glad about this tiny safety line, especially now that the guards’ unwanted
attention made my skin crawl. But the more time passed, the less notice they took of me.
I sidled up against the wall, exhausted and with my meager belongings clutched to my chest. My pathetic attempt at using
the shawl to keep warm was doomed to failure when they changed guards, keeping the door open seemingly endlessly while
they stood outside chatting and laughing.
My instincts told me it was already the middle of the night, but I was too anxious to think about sleep. Not so the men
who had just finished their shift. They drank a few more mugs of beer before stretching out on the wooden benches. They
all fell asleep, snoring.
I was under no illusion that I’d be able to sneak out undetected. Those guys would probably reach for their weapons and
pounce on me at the slightest sound. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my head on them. That way at least I’d
stay warm. The night trudged on sluggishly and seemed endless. When the first faint morning light made its appearance as
a bluish sliver under the door, I had chewed off almost all of my fingernails.
Barra yelped, and her yellow eyes shone brightly when she lifted her head. I yawned, sitting up and petting her long,
shaggy fur. Again she yelped, excitedly wagging her tail when the door opened. She jumped up, embracing Ross with her
big front paws, but he quietly pushed her aside and motioned for me to follow him. The dog trotted off with her nose
close to the ground.
My toes almost froze off as I followed Ross across the courtyard, wearing nothing but flimsy sandals. In the pale
morning light, the uneven ground turned into an obstacle course. In some areas, I lifted my feet up unnecessarily high,
and still I hit my toes on several protruding rocks.
I was so preoccupied with my feet that I only started wondering about where he was taking me when we stepped onto the
road with the main castle gate behind us. The path down to Galthair Village, which surrounded the entire castle like an
outer circle of defense, was not far, and Ross hurried on with giant strides.
“Ross, wait up!” I called after him, already out of breath. “Where are we going?”
Something rustled in the shrubs to my right, and it made me flinch. What kind of beasts might be waiting here for us? I
thought of wolves who were perhaps trying to get at leftovers from the kitchens or slaughterhouse, or maybe rats drawn
here by the stench of the wastewater ditch. That damn Scot just kept ignoring me.
“Ross!” I would not take another step unless he replied immediately. I stopped with my arms crossed across my chest.
“Come on! You don’t make Duncan wait,” he explained.
“Duncan? Why would I go and see him?”
I reached for my throat and suddenly found it hard to breathe.
“Samantha, don’t pretend like you’re stupid. You know what he wants. Answers. He has gathered his men, and they all
want to know where their goddamn cows and sheep are.”
Why was he suddenly being so hostile? What was going on? We had exchanged only a couple of words since they had put me
on his horse, and he had completely avoided any conversation with me. And now he wanted to hand me off to his brothers?
I didn’t know anything; I couldn’t answer any of their questions.
“But I don’t know anything about your stupid cattle!” I screamed nervously. I had to bring him to believe me. I had
to appeal to the kindness of his heart. “Ross, please, I don’t know what to do. Can’t you help me?”
He came closer, and I saw a flash of anger in his eyes.
“I don’t believe you! Tell them where the cattle are, and they will let you go. Tell them quickly, or they’re going
to beat it out of you.”
“For God’s sake, Ross! I swear I’ve got nothing to do with it!”
I looked around for a chance to escape, but there was nowhere to go. In front of me were the village and the men; behind
me were the castle with its guards; and beside me was Ross, who just had to yell for help.
He grabbed my upper arm and hissed into my face:
“I could have taken you away and protected you. But what did you do? You sold yourself to Payton! You womenfolk are all
the same. You’re all dirty little whores! Would you open your legs for me if I promised to save you from Duncan? Would
you?”
He forced his lips onto mine in a rough, hateful kiss. I reached for my skirt, trying to lift it just enough so I could
grab my dagger, when he suddenly thrust his tongue deep into my throat.
In trying to push him away, I noticed something. I bit his tongue and snatched his own knife from his belt. Breathing
heavily, I aimed that dagger right at him, forcing him to keep his distance. My hand was shaking, and images flickered
into my mind—images I really didn’t need right now.
“Don’t you ever touch me again!” I screamed with tears streaming down my face. It wasn’t just the shock about his
unexpected attack. I was also acutely aware that someone like me could not keep a warrior like Ross at arm’s length for
long.
And I was proven right not a moment later. Ross grabbed me and pulled my arm behind my back, twisting my hand upward. I
was sure he had every intention of breaking it. Screaming in pain, I let go of his dagger. Ross pushed me to the ground,
kicking the knife away and planting himself dangerously close over me.
“You little bitch! I loved you once!”
I scrambled backward, but he kept coming at me.
“Loved me? Ha! When you love someone, you don’t treat them like that!”
“I said, I loved you once. I didn’t say that I still do!”
“Oh, whatever! How deep could your love have been? After all, you don’t seem to have a problem handing me off to your
brothers!”
“I do! I do have a problem with it! Which is why I don’t want you to be late and be beaten to death because of it. And
which is also why I’m giving you this word of advice: Answer all of their questions and don’t give them any reason to
get angry at you.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t know anything!”
“Then tell them what they want to hear! If you tell them in front of everyone that the cows are at Auld a′chruinn,
then they have no reason to harm you!” Ross had finally taken pity on me.
Auld a′chruinn? My mind was working overtime. That place sounded so familiar. Now I remembered the City Limits sign. It
was crooked, as if someone had hit it with their car. We had crossed the small town of Auld a′chruinn on our way to the
cemetery where Payton and Sean expected to find the portal of time. Payton had explained that the town was right at the
center of Cameron land. So if the Camerons really were responsible for stealing the cattle, then it would make sense for
them to drive them as far inland as possible—although Payton had doubted it. But how could Ross know where the cattle
were hidden? I needed to find out more; I had to take this risk.
“The stone cottage. That’s why you punched me to the ground that time, right? Did you think I had something to do with
the cattle thefts? Tell me, what exactly were you doing so far away from your clan borders?”
Ross flinched, straightened his back, and waved an angry finger in my face.
“None of your business! I’ve made a mistake trying to help you!”
He yanked me to my feet, grabbed me by the back of my neck, and in that same manner pushed and steered me toward the
village. I kept trying to get at my dagger, but it was useless. My skirts were too long and in the way.
“You had no good reason to be there, right?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Yes, I did,” Ross replied listlessly, and I knew that whatever feelings he might still have for me didn’t matter
now.
“Right! So you were there looking for approval from your brothers. Am I wrong? You allowed them to use you!” It was a
shot in the dark, but considering everything I knew about him, this was the only possible explanation.
“Shut your mouth!”
My knees gave way under his iron grip.
“I don’t allow anyone to use me! But once Duncan is made the new clan chief, I won’t have to herd sheep or castrate
bulls ever again. A life of comfort! No more going hungry and going without!”
“Why would Duncan be made clan chief? The Stuarts already have a laird: It’s Cathal,” I pointed out, just in case he
had overlooked this minor detail.
Ross dismissed me with a contemptuous laugh, and his eyes narrowed to slits as he countered my argument. “And what a
laird he is! A laird who allows almost half of his cattle herds to disappear in the space of only a few months. One who
has proven himself incapable of stopping the attacks. I ask you, what kind of a clan chief is that? His men will turn
their backs on him once Duncan brings back the missing herds and finds the Camerons guilty of cattle theft. Your
testimony this morning is going to prove that.”
“But it wasn’t the Camerons, now, was it? We were just part of a bigger plan!”
“Who else would it be if not the Camerons?” he snapped.
“You! That’s what you were doing when I fell into your hands. You weren’t chasing cattle thieves. You are the cattle
thieves!”
“Cathal would never believe it. We have spent many a night drinking together, only to learn about new raids the next
morning. It couldn’t have been us,” he explained, very sure of himself, but I knew the truth because I had pulled it
from Fingal’s bleeding chest.
“Mercenaries!” I cried.
The word floated like a lit fuse in the air between us. We both knew of the imminent blast, but neither one of us had
the power to stop it. I saw in his eyes that I had gambled and lost.
Still half crouching under his iron grip, I lunged back with all of my strength, turned, landed on my palms and knees,
and scrambled to my feet. I managed to take exactly one step before he caught up with me and grabbed me by the collar.
But I got away with another quick spin. I was sprinting back toward the castle, but there was no other way. I ran as
fast as I could, with Ross immediately behind me.
I don’t know if I ever stood a chance of outrunning him, or if it was my destiny all along to trip and stumble right in
this spot. At any rate, my foot caught on a rock. It was a bad fall, and it squeezed all the air from my lungs. I
thought my rib cage would burst under the impact. My hands were dirty and scraped, and I was bleeding from the elbow.
My eyes caught sight of something shiny in the grass in front of me. The early-morning light led the way: All I had to
do was reach out.
When I was yanked up from the ground, I shut my eyes tightly in anticipation of a violent punch to my face.
“You? What are you doing here?” Ross asked angrily, obviously standing several yards behind me and talking to someone
else. I turned around and froze.
“I will not allow any harm to come to Cathal.”
I heard the sound of rolling thunder.
“Go back to your bedchamber, woman, and leave me alone!” Ross bellowed, and his bitterness and resentment turned his
skin the same bright red as his hair. Nathaira was not the least bit impressed. She looked me up and down, and I could
see the contempt in her eyes.
“So I see it takes a Cameron to spot the enemy from within,” she stated matter-of-factly before turning her stony eyes
back to Ross. The two circled each other, sizing each other up. I had seen that expression on Nathaira’s face before—
in Delaware, when she had tried to kill me. And, even though her hatred was not aimed at me this time, I held on tighter
to that dagger I had found in the grass.
“I will say this only one more time before I forget myself and raise my hand against a defenseless woman,” Ross warned
her, coming closer. “Go! Away!”
The wind was picking up, and a flash of lightning tore across the sky.
Nathaira spat in his direction. “I have not given up everything in my life just to have my plans thwarted by the likes
of you!”
“You can’t stop Duncan. He has already rounded up all the men he needs for taking power.”
Ross seemed confident and very sure of himself when he reached for my arm.
The wind tore at my clothes, and I shrunk back in panic, clutching the knife tighter.
“You dim-witted toad! You are messing with the wrong person.” Nathaira laughed, raising her arms. “I know what I’m
doing. Traitooor!”
With all her strength, she pushed Ross toward me, and a blinding flash of lightning crashed into the ground.
I threw up my arms in horror, raising the dagger in the same instant that my vision caught up with me.
Everything went black, and I started screaming.
Pain spread like wildfire through my arm all the way to my fingertips, which were completely numb. I gasped for air. The
smell of copper filled my nose and mouth, making me sick to my stomach. Then slowly, as feeling returned to my fingers,
I opened my eyes and stared down at my hands. Blood, hot and slimy, gushed onto the dagger—and onto me. I clutched the
knife in my hand. I had thrust it in so deep that my fist touched the man’s lifeless chest, and I could tell that the
heart beneath my fingers had stopped beating. A single word flashed through my addled brain: betrayal.
I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. A tear, hot like melting metal, burned its way down my cheek and fell,
unhindered, onto the blood-soaked earth.
Slowly, as if guided by an invisible hand, I pulled the dagger from his chest, unable to take my eyes off his face. Why,
Ross? Why? The blood on his lips was his silent response to my sorrowful cry.
“I loved you once!” His words still echoed through my mind.
“No! Ross!” I shrieked.
My entire body shook. I had caused his death. My terrifying vision had come true! But, even though there was blood on my
hands, it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault! It was hers! Nathaira had guided the sgian dhu with her mind! All I had
done was respond, react, defend myself, protect myself! She had done exactly what Ross had told me in the forest: She
had used the moment of surprise to her advantage.
I got up, holding the blood-smeared dagger as far away from me as possible. At that moment I noticed Nathaira calling
for help.
I was completely rattled. It was impossible for Nathaira Stuart to be scared of me, so why would she…?
Slowly, I turned around and noticed the shocked faces of the guardsmen up by the battlements. I knew exactly what they
were thinking.
The prisoner—a Cameron—had killed one of theirs!
“Run,” Nathaira whispered, and I stared at her in befuddlement.
“Run,” she repeated. “Today I am letting you go, but this is far from over!”
I shook my head because I knew what was about to happen. I knew about the avalanche of events that had just been set off
—set off by me.
This wasn’t the end. This was the beginning of the end.