Page 6 of Highlander Redeemed (Guardians of the Targe #3)

Duncan judged the change from where the sun hit the forest floor when he had arrived and now and was surprised to find the sun must be low in the western sky.

“Most of the day, ’twould seem. It cannot be long before the evening meal is ready.”

“The whole of the day? Nay, ’tis not possible.” She did finally let her arms drop limply to her side, the heavy wooden shield staying in place only because of the sweat-soaked leather straps.

“We will meet here again tomorrow,” he said, letting his stick drop to the ground. He waited for a complaint, a grumble, even an irritated stare, but none of that came.

“Good. I will be ready.” She stashed her weapons in the bole of a hollowed-out tree and left without so much as a hand raised in farewell.

Duncan stared after her, pleased that she had passed every test he had set her this day.

He was equally pleased that he had kept her from causing any trouble to vex her family.

If he was any judge, she would return to the caves, eat a larger than usual meal, then sleep the sleep of the dead.

She would rise tomorrow stiff and sore, with bruises from blows she wouldn’t remember receiving.

Even so, he rather thought she would return to train with him, out of sheer stubbornness if nothing else.

The true test of her pledge lay not in the physical training, though.

He had witnessed her determination to perfect that today.

The true test was to see if she could change her way of acting and thinking, to see if she could change her heart and her mind from those of a selfish lass to those of a battle-ready warrior.

He had his doubts, but he also had his hopes. If she could master this and prove the change was real and lasting, she might be welcomed back into the clan with open arms. She might be able to redeem herself.

D UNCAN FOLLOWED S COTIA as she made her way first to a burn where she drank and washed her hands and face.

She brushed dirt and bits of leaves and twigs from her clothes, then headed back to the caves.

The closer she got the more he could see the change in her.

Her stride grew stiffer, her shoulders drew up, and her pace slowed.

He let her enter the clearing outside the caves first, giving her a few moments before he entered so that the council, and anyone else nosy enough to pay close attention, would think he only followed her.

He did not know how any of them would react to the promise he had made to her, but it did not really matter since he had also promised to keep her training a secret for now.

When he stepped into the gloaming of the clearing Peigi was already berating Scotia for leaving her duties behind for a full day.

All the women and lasses who were nearby preparing the evening meal were averting their eyes, or even turning their backs, as if they did not want to so much as look at Scotia.

The brittle anger he could see clearly in the way Scotia held herself was such a contrast to the easy, dare he say happy, lassie he had spent the day with, that it made him all the more aware of how the clan subtly shunned her.

Each dismissive gesture seemed to push Scotia deeper and deeper into that pit of anger she had lived in since the day of the fire, the day her mother was slain.

Did he shun her, too? Aye, he did, when he wasn’t tracking her like an escaped prisoner.

He had thought ’twas Scotia isolating herself in her anger and grief, but he realized ’twas more than that.

The lassie who everyone for so long had shaken their heads over and smiled at her antics when she landed in yet another bucket of trouble was now treated as if she did not exist, except by Peigi, who condemned her to forever scrubbing pots.

That Scotia had not lashed out with more than angry words of late, that she had slipped away to the forest instead, was interesting, though he did not understand why she did that ... but he would.

Not long after they returned, Duncan sat in the gloom of the darkening evening eating the stew that somehow Peigi and the other women had managed to make savory in spite of the small number of rabbits the lads had managed to trap this day.

Scotia also sat in the gloom, upon the flat-topped boulder just outside the main cave.

She was as far away from the clan as she could get without retreating into the cave itself.

He was glad she had gone back for a second bowl of stew.

She had earned it with her hard training.

Though his stomach still felt hollow, he had not gone back for more, letting her take his share.

There was little enough to go around thanks to the fire that had destroyed most everything in the storage areas under the great hall.

And the game was nearly hunted out in this small glen after just a few weeks of hunting and trapping.

The lads would need to extend their trapping into other glens soon.

It did not bode well for the clan if they had to remain here into the winter.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Scotia rise and take her bowl to the wash station, then she quickly made for the cave. Peigi started to call out to her, one hand in the air, but then cocked her head as she watched the shadow that was Scotia in the gathering gloom, and let her hand drop.

Duncan placed his bowl on a towering pile by the washbasins.

He wished he could sit quietly near the fire with a cup of ale or a dram of whiskey, though they had neither after the great hall burned.

But even if they did, he could feel Rowan and Jeanette watching him, and he did not want to have to walk that fine line between keeping Scotia’s secret as he had pledged and not lying to them.

They were the Guardians. He would never lie to them .

He gathered his bedding and carried it toward the council circle where he slept when there were still people gathered near the cookfire.

He only slept in one of the caves when it rained, and then near the mouth.

He slept far better in the open than in the dank confines of their temporary shelters. At least he hoped it was temporary.

As he crossed the clearing, skirting the circle of light thrown by the cookfire into the darkness that rapidly deepened to night, he could feel Jeanette and Rowan’s eyes upon him.

They had yet to come right out and ask him anything about Scotia, but he could feel their need to gathering strength within them, and he found himself reluctant to tell them anything of the determined, driven, dare he say compliant lass he had spent the day with.

Before he had laid his bedding out Rowan appeared at his left elbow, Jeanette at the right.

“Where did she go?” Rowan asked, pitching her voice low.

“Aye, where did she go and what was she about?” Jeanette added.

“She was wandering the wood,” Duncan said. “She’s angry, and grieving, and embarrassed.” He wasn’t so sure about that last one, but she should be. “Can you blame her for wanting to get away from all the judging looks and whispers?”

“Aye,” Rowan said, “I can. She was told to stay near the caves. She kens well that every time she hares off into the wood someone has to follow her. Today it was you and we could have used your counsel. It is high time she grew up and took responsibility for her actions like the rest of us.”

Rowan’s tone and accusation irritated Duncan, and though he did all he could not to show it, he wasn’t entirely successful.

“How is she to do that? How is she to take responsibility, to grow up, when no one here—not even me”—until this day, he realized suddenly—“treats her like anything other than an overgrown child?”

Both women were silent then, and Duncan thought perhaps he had overstepped .

“He is right, Rowan,” Jeanette said, and Duncan let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“It is difficult not to treat her as if she is always about to cause trouble.” The three of them stood there in silence for long moments, the murmur of those clan folk still awake and the occasional pop of the fire the only sounds.

“Duncan,” Jeanette said, settling a hand on his arm, “you have always been the one to understand her, to watch out for her far better than any of the rest of us. What do you think we need to do to help her make this change?”

The image of Scotia whirling through her exercise this morning, fierce, determined, focused entirely on what she meant to master, flashed through him. She was so intent on her quest that she had even agreed to his deal.

“You need to let her roam,” he said, trying to answer their questions without lying, and without revealing Scotia’s secrets, for he knew if he let on what she was really up to, Rowan, Jeanette, and pretty much everyone else would hobble Scotia like a horse and throw her into the back of a cave until she came to her senses .

.. which would be never. “She is unhappy, and here she is surrounded by disapproval and your happiness.”

“Happiness? Here where we hide in the bens, driven from our home by the English?” He could see the silhouette of Rowan’s curly auburn hair tremble with each angry word.

“Aye,” Duncan replied, letting his own anger lend weight to his words.

“You accuse her of selfishness, yet the two of you flaunt your newfound happiness, your husbands, and your places as Guardians, in front of her, without a thought to how it makes her feel.” Or the rest of us , he thought.

He did not mean to tarnish the joy these two women had managed to find in spite of the trials that had overtaken the clan of late, but he knew he found it difficult to watch their happiness when he had none of his own.

He could only imagine Scotia felt the same.

“She is grieving and she needs time and understanding to move through that. She does not have a Nicholas or a Malcolm to teach her that happiness and grief can go hand-in-hand, nor does she have the responsibilities of a new Guardian to distract her from it, so she will have to learn how to grieve on her own. I will do what I can to keep her safe and out of trouble, but I think only she can figure out how to move past the hurts and betrayals.”

When neither Rowan nor Jeanette spoke he said, “I am sorry. I did not mean to make you feel discomfited because you are happy. I would not take that from either of you. I only meant to show you how you look to Scotia.”

“And you have done that very well,” Rowan said, but he could tell he had offended her from the flatness of her voice, even though he could not see her face well in the dark.

Duncan looked down at the plaid clutched hard in his fists. He did not like hurting these women. They had lost so much, but they had gained much, too, in these last weeks, and he was genuinely happy for them.

But for now Scotia was his priority.

Jeanette sighed. “You seem to see her more clearly than either of us can. Will you continue to watch over her, Duncan? I ken you would rather be out keeping watch for the English, or preparing battle plans with the council, but right now watching over Scotia is every bit as important. Rowan and I can only concentrate on our training and preparations for the coming battle if we know she is both safe and not endangering the clan.”

Duncan’s mind raced. Of course he would agree, but was there anything that might help him keep Scotia’s secret while he kept his promise to the Guardians, even if ’twould not be in exactly the way they expected?

“I will continue to watch over her safety, as I did today, but I must ask for two things from you,” he said, choosing his words with exquisite care.