Page 2 of The Guardian's Bride

“Una says there is magic in stones and chants too.”

“Sometimes.” He smiled. “The work is challenging and humbling. But thou art suited to it and will do well. I say it so.”

“Thank you, sir.” She felt humbled to have his company and would treasure the small prophecy he had just granted her.

He watched the swaying treetops, his eyes a keen, sparkling blue despite age. “I am thinking it is time,” he said.

“Time, sir?”

“I am old, near a hundred! I have gifts for thee and thy siblings before I go.”

“Grandda,” she protested, not sure if he meant his current visit—or death.

“This is for thee.” He held out a hand. Something sparkled between his fingers. “Una has been its keeper, but we agree it is time to pass it along.” He opened his fingers to reveal a glimmering crystal.

“How beautiful!” She stared. The clear crystalline stone was smaller than a plum, round and smooth, caged in a setting of silver bands. It winked and sparkled as if it had an inner light.

“The Queen of Elfland gave this to me.”

“This one, truly? Aunt Una sometimes dips this stone in water and says chants over it. She has never told me much about it, though.”

“It was not time yet. Here.” He placed it in her cupped hands. “Long ago, a beautiful lady with golden hair and eyes like stars owned this. She had a laugh like bells and a wicked cruelty to her, but a gentle gift for healing. She charmed this stone herself, which makes it something special.”

Light played inside the bright, clear stone. “I want to know more about charm stones.”

“The ancients called themkrystallos, othersquerertz.Quartz, we say, or crystals. There are various colors, but this one has a rare clear purity. Thee will learn more. Listen now.” He laid a hand over hers as she held the crystal. A sense of something magical, mystical, filled her. The stone seemed to grow warm in their hands. “This crystal can help the gravest injuries and illnesses. Use it sparingly, and always remember Death may win.”

“Aye.” The stone glinted between their layered hands, old and young.

“Thou art its guardian now. One day, this wee stone could save Scotland. Keep it secret. Keep it safe. Use it wisely.”

Though she did not quite understand, she knew this was a great responsibility. “I will keep care of it always. I promise.”

“Good.” He released her hands. “Wrap it in silk. Now walk with me back to the castle. I am hungry. I wonder if the cook would make some fresh hot bannocks even though it is past breakfast.”

She put a hand under his bony elbow to help him stand. “I am sure she will. Thank you for this, Grandda.” The stone gleamed in her hand. “Guardian of the stone. I like that. It is an honor.”

“It is. There is another, but that one has a different purpose.”

“Another stone or another guardian?”

“As thee guards this, another will guard thee. The man with the crown knows.”

“The king?” He loved a riddle, especially if he was the only one who understood it. But he only smiled as they walked.

He did not answer. “Will there be rowanberry jam? I like jam on bannocks.”

“I think we have some, Grandda.”

Guardian stone. She loved the stone and the privilege the Rhymer had granted her. The crystal was warm and vibrant in her hand as she dropped it in her linen bag.

Chapter One

Scone, Scotland

March, 1306

Standing in thecold rain and a bitter March wind, Sir Aedan MacDuff, knight, interim clan chief, Guardian of the Realm of Scotland, and laird of Castle Black in Fife, watched a solemn ceremony on the hill at Scone Abbey. He rolled his shoulders to ease stiffness, having ridden hard through the night to escort his niece here in time for this. Pride erased fatigue as he witnessed Lady Isabella MacDuff of Buchan—his late brother’s daughter and wife of an English sympathizer—step forward to crown a Scottish king.