Page 11 of Following Her Highland Journey (The White Witch’s Apprentices #2)

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A dair had to think long and hard before she dipped her pen in the ink and began to write. After thinking about it for a moment, she decided to write not in English, but in Gaelic. The language was dying fast, and even amongst the clans there were many who had eschewed it entirely; it would be an extra layer of protection against prying eyes in the off-chance it came to it. Adair herself had been raised with both languages by her father, but she knew that not everyone had that experience, and though this made her sad, in this particular instance, it would work in her favor. She just hoped Caiside's Gaelic was good, or that someone else in her castle was fluent in their native tongue.

My dearest Caiside,

Word spread quickly of the defeat of your brother and the new clan you’ve formed. If this letter has reached you, then you know I am not at the monastery. I wish I had time to tell you of our friends and ask after your family, but I cannot waste the time composing sentences. I hope I will see you soon so that I may explain further. I am writing in Gaelic to keep these words from enemy eyes, and I pray that they do not come too late.

For now, know that I have your man here, Steven, who has been injured on his race to reach you with a message. You are not safe , and you must act quickly to protect yourself. McNair has somehow reached McMillan and turned him against your clan, and I am sure you have heard that McNair is razing small clans around you left and right. This is not his end goal. He is after you , Caiside, you and Lorcan and your bairns — he intends to take Clan McLeod, with McMillan at his side. You know that I know McNair firsthand, and he is a monster. He will stop at nothing until you have lost everything, unless you act.

For now, I will remain in Clan Martin and the surrounding areas, going village to village trying to help those who have survived the slaughter. In time, I may make my way to you. Until then, my friend, my sister, hold fast, and hold strong.

With my love,

Adair.

She finished the letter and chewed on her lip, examining it as the ink dried, wondering if there was more she hadn’t included. There was so much more she wanted to share, but speed was of the essence, and making sure that the letter was short enough that her point was clear was paramount. Perhaps, when this was all over, she would travel to see Caiside and explain more in full, and finally meet the children. But that could only happen if further bloodshed was avoided.

She'd been given a small box room in the makeshift hospital, parted from the main hall by only a curtain. That curtain was pulled aside and Henry stood there, looking very serious. Adair looked up at him, feeling a surge of hope even in the face of all this bleakness just at the sight of him.

"The other healers say yer man is doin' well," Henry informed her. "Yer work has probably saved his life. Ye're a true marvel, Adair."

She shook her head modestly, but could not help the glow inside at his praise. "I'm just glad he survived. But he certainly cannae take the message alone, not now."

Henry nodded. "So McNair is ready tae take on Clan McLeod, eh? I wondered how long it would be before he managed tae manipulate McMillan tae see things his way. I didnae think he'd move so fast, if I'm honest, but I cannae say I'm surprised. McMillan is a rough beast, eager for blood, so whatever McNair said tae him wouldnae have had tae have been enough."

Adair stared at him for a moment, then sighed. What must it feel like, to know that such a monster shared your blood? Laird McNair was Henry's only living relative, at least in Scotland. Did that hurt him? Did it make him feel ashamed? "I have the letter written for Caiside," she said instead of asking. Now was not the time for an in-depth conversation. "Do ye have any men ye can say ye trust with all yer heart?"

Henry hesitated for a moment. "I trust almost everyone here. But with somethin' of such importance…only one."

She remembered the story he had told her the night before and nodded. "Ask Michael, then. If he consents tae take it, I'd be most grateful."

"I will." Henry looked troubled, though, and continued a moment later. "I came tae see ye for a reason, though, Adair — a reason beyond this. It's about this clan, Clan Martin. We've received word of a change."

"A change?" Adair tried not to let him hear her unease, but she was worried. The situation was precarious enough without yet more to add to the mix.

But Henry smiled faintly. "A good change, for once, at least I hope so. Laird Martin's immediate family is gone, but he had a sister who married Laird Bryce further south. That sister had two bairns of her own, and the younger of them was Laird Martin's next heir in line."

Adair gasped at this new information, unexpected and bright despite the dire situation. "So Clan Martin has a rightful Laird by blood and strength?" she asked, barely daring to believe it. "McNair cannot just claim these lands by conquest?"

Nodding, Henry said, "The nearby Lairds, includin' Laird McLeod, would have challenged him in any case. This way, though, he loses standin' and is prevented from doin' as he pleases. I kent Allan—that is, the new Laird Martin—briefly when we were lads; he's my age and a good man. He should be here by tomorrow, or the next day at the latest."

She took a moment to turn this information around in her head. So, despite Laird McNair's terror attempts, the small Clan Martin had already found a way to rise from its ashes before the burning fire had even extinguished. A new leader was exactly what these lost, scared people needed right now, and if Henry said that Allan Martin was a good man…it filled Adair's heart with a surge of hope. Not only that, but if it came down to it, then Adair had no doubt that the new Laird Martin and his parents and siblings who ruled the Bryce clan would be more than willing to take up arms on the side of Clan McLeod.

"There's still much tae fear," she mused. "McMillan is a formidable foe, and we both ken too personally how sinister McNair can be. But this is good news. If we get the message tae Caiside and she is prepared, and this Allan is as promisin' as ye think, perhaps we can win the day yet."

Henry nodded again, though there was a faraway look in his eyes. Adair wondered if he was thinking about his situation in comparison to this one. By blood, he was related to Laird McNair the same amount as Allan was related to the now-deceased Laird Martin. In another life, had his parents been married, Henry would have been able to challenge his uncle for the Lairdship and solve this issue almost single-handedly.

"I wish things were different," Henry said quietly. "I wish me mother had lived. That me father had wed her. I wish…"

Adair moved forward and put her hand gently on his arm. "I ken. I wish me father was here tae advise us. I wish…a lot of things. But we live in the here and now, and all we really ken is that we found one another despite everythin' sayin' we never would. Is that nae enough tae tell ye that this isnae hopeless?"

Henry caught her eye, and a heat flickered in his gaze that sent warmth tingling through Adair's blood. His skin suddenly felt warm under her hand, and she had to resist the urge to move closer. Now was not the time, especially not with so many questions still unanswered.

So, instead, she dropped her hand and moved to the desk. She picked up and folded the now-dry letter, sealing it and scrawling Caiside's name on the front, then held it out to Henry. "Ask Michael tae go straight away," she said. "This cannae wait."

"Come with me," Henry said. "Michael wants tae meet ye."

Adair knew that she couldn't allow herself to read too much into those words, but they made her heart flutter anyway. What had Henry told Michael? What did it all mean? Impatient with herself, she brushed these thoughts aside and nodded. "Let's go, then. Quickly."

Henry had expected to have to return to the guards' quarters to find Michael, but as it turned out, they didn't have to go far at all. Michael was nearby, right there in the hospital, sitting at Finn's bedside, chatting to the young man who was wide awake with color back in his cheeks. Henry was ashamed to admit it, but he felt a surge of relief when he saw that Isobel wasn't there for the moment.

"...old enough, I'm gonnae be the best soldier the clan has ever seen," Finn was saying to Michael, pure enthusiasm in his voice. "I'm gonnae make sure that naebody ever has tae live through what me and Auntie Izzy did, or what happened tae the poor Laird's family and the rest of this village. I'll slaughter them all if I have tae, and I mean it."

"It's not all about slaughter," Michael told him seriously, with that soothing, big-brother tone that Henry had always found so reassuring. "It's about protectin'. The best way tae save people is tae avoid bloodshed whenever we can. Even when a man is evil, it's not up tae us tae judge them. That's between a man and his God. A true hero only kills when he must."

Finn seemed to think about this, then nodded. "I want tae protect the Clan. I ken I'm still young, but…do ye think the new Laird may accept me? For trainin', at least?"

Michael didn't laugh. Instead, he spoke thoughtfully. "Ye're old enough tae learn, that's for sure, though I wouldnae put ye in a battle yet. I'll tell ye what, when things are calmer and the new Laird is settled, we'll go talk tae him together and see what we can do, aye?"

Finn brightened up at that. "Promise?"

Michael nodded, then winked. "Dinnae tell Isobel, though. She might slaughter me. "

They both laughed together, and Henry took that moment to clear his throat. Both Michael and Finn looked up, Finn's eyes instantly brightening.

"Oh! Miss Healer! Ye've got some magic tae ye," he said cheerfully. "Me fever broke, and me wound barely hurts!"

"Ye'll get worse again soon, then better," Adair told him gently. "It takes patience. Promise me ye'll rest for at least the remainder of the week, aye? I'll be tellin' yer aunt, as well, tae make sure of it."

Michael got to his feet, brushing down his loose trousers. "Henry," he greeted. "And ye're the famous Adair. A pleasure."

"May we borrow Michael for a wee while, Finn?" Henry asked. The boy nodded, and the three adults headed outside of the hospital into the cool air.

"What's this about?" Michael asked as soon as they were outside. "I already ken about the new Laird Martin. Or did ye simply want tae introduce me?"

Adair spoke up before Henry could formulate an answer. "It truly is a pleasure tae meet ye, sir," she told him. "From what I hear, ye saved Henry, which means ye're part of the reason either of us is standin' here right now. Ye have me eternal thanks."

Michael looked taken aback for a moment, then gave a silly little bow, obviously feeling awkward in the face of her sincerity. "Och, I'm nae sir. But I couldnae leave Henry tae struggle alone. He's fair useless without me."

Henry laughed. "I'm useless! Should I tell her about yer fear of rats?"

"Rats carry disease," Michael insisted. " Ye're the one who screamed at the sight of a wee pup."

"It was a wolf!"

"Still a dog."

Their playful bickering was interrupted by the light sound of Adair's laughter, a sound so pleasing to Henry's ear that he felt his heart was soaring.

"I can tell the two of ye are friends," she chuckled. "Or enemies, perhaps?"

Michael grinned. "Why not both? How can I aid ye, Miss Adair?"

Together, Henry and Adair filled him in about the situation. Michael listened carefully, his joking manner giving way to a more serious attentiveness as they spoke, and when Henry held out the letter, he took it in an instant.

"Ye dinnae need tae go," Adair told him. "We can find someone else. But Henry trusts ye, and it's urgent, and?—"

"I'll go," Michael told her. "Dinnae worry. I understand the importance." He smiled at her sincerely, then turned to Henry. "A moment?"

Henry nodded, and the two men walked just out of Adair's earshot. As soon as they were far enough that she couldn't hear, Henry said, "I wouldnae ask ye if it wasnae important."

"I ken that. I'll set out at once," Michael replied. "But Henry...before I go…"

Henry's stomach clenched, the dark guilt swarming at just the tone of Michael's voice. "I ken, I ken. I…"

Michael shook his head. "Listen tae me. Isobel is a good woman, a fine woman, and I willnae sit by and see her hurt. Finn is a wonderful lad, as well, and he trusts ye."

"I ken."

"But Adair…this lassie obviously has been searching for ye for a long time. I see in her that sunshine ye talked about all those years ago when we were lookin' for her. I understand. I dinnae ken her well, not at all really, but I ken I wouldnae see her hurt either."

Henry glanced over at Adair and sighed. "Aye. Michael, I ken all of this, I do. But unless ye have any answers for me about the right thing tae do here…"

Michael put his hand on Henry's shoulder. "Figure it out, Henry," he said, not unkindly but quite firmly. "Before it gets any worse." Then he relaxed a bit into a smile. "And when I get back, be prepared for me tae sweep up the other one. Lord kens what a pair of women like that see in a lout like ye."

Laughter erupted from both men at that, and they embraced, a brotherly hug that lasted a little longer than usual. It was only a farewell for the days it would take Michael to reach the McLeod land and back, but Henry found himself feeling like he was saying goodbye. He'd said too many goodbyes over the years, especially in the last few weeks, and the sudden thought almost scared him.

"Keep safe, aye?" he told Michael when they separated.

Michael nodded. "And ye, me friend. When Allan Martin arrives here tomorrow, it's up tae ye tae make sure things go smoothly. And when we meet again, it'll be in a brighter dawn."

"A brighter dawn," Henry agreed. "Farewell for now."

They returned to Adair's side, and after a few more words were exchanged, Michael headed off to gather what he'd need for the journey. Henry looked at Adair without a word. She nodded, and together they set off again for the run-down cottage.

"I'm thinkin'," Adair told him as they sat around the fireplace, their stew bowls empty and their stomachs full, "That after Laird Martin arrives and is settled on the morn, I will leave."

"Leave?" Henry asked. Adair noticed that he tensed up at this, though she tried to ignore it. "Ye only just arrived."

"If the Laird will be here, he'll bring men and women with him," Adair explained. She'd been thinking about this a lot over the past few hours, and it only made sense. "I already had planned tae go through the clan and help each village I come across, but the arrival of the new Laird means I can speed it up. He'll be able tae help the injured here, and I'll take me work tae the rest."

Henry frowned. "By that same token, it stands that the new Laird will ensure aid reaches all the villages."

"Aye, and it will," Adair agreed. "But that will take time. I, though, am one person. I can go ahead, make sure those sufferin' the most are helped, and allow the Laird's people time tae spread their resources. I willnae just sit here while people are sufferin', Henry. Especially not because of him ."

Henry was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. Then I'll come with ye. At least escort ye tae the next village."

This threw Adair, and she stared at him. "What? Ye cannae do that. What of the other guards and soldiers? The rebuildin' efforts?"

Henry shrugged. "As ye said, the Laird will arrive tomorrow. We'll meet, I'll update him, and he'll bring men of his own tae help. I willnae be missed."

It made sense, but something was still troubling Adair. "And Isobel? Does she not need ye here?"

His jaw clenched, and he dropped his gaze, no longer meeting her eyes as he responded. "Helpin' people is more important, as ye yerself said, Adair. Isobel will be fine. She has Finn tae take care of, and as a woman with practical skills as she has, she'll no doubt be a huge help tae the Laird."

Something still wasn't right. "Aye, that may all be true, but?—"

To her surprise, there was irritation in Henry's voice as he interrupted her. "It isnae as though she's me wife, Adair."

Annoyance of her own flared within Adair at the dismissiveness of his words. It was very clear that Isobel and Henry were a pair—God above, they lived together, even if Henry hadn't admitted that explicitly!—and for Henry to act like it was all nothing, as if Adair was stupid, was insulting.

"Is that so!" Adair snapped. "And so? What is she? Not a wife, but yer betrothed? She must be, for I've kent her only two days and can see she's not interested in bein' some wanderin' soldier's mistress."

Henry clenched his hand into a tight fist and relaxed it, though he still wouldn't look at her. "Ye've nae idea what ye're talkin' about. Isobel is me friend."

"Ye live together! Are ye truly tellin' me she's never broached the topic of yer marriage? Or do ye intend tae make a woman live in sin for the remainder of her days?"

He finally met her eyes. "Why does this matter now, Adair? Are me intentions more important than what is happenin' now? Am I tae ask about every person ye've spoken with in the last five years, tae analyze yer every move?"

"Ask whatever ye want!" Adair retorted, exasperated. "I've nothin' tae hide. Why are ye actin' as though ye do?"

Henry didn't answer.

"Fine. Do as ye please." Adair shook her head and got to her feet. "I'm goin' back tae the hospital."

She stormed off, and he did not call after her, did not follow. Fury carried her through the village and back to the small room that had been set aside for her, and fury was her companion as she threw herself down on her bedroll and tried to sleep.

But when sleep finally took her, the fury was soon gone, and only nightmares remained.