And, she had to admit, being this close to Arran MacLeod wasn’t too bad either. True, the man was rude and taciturn, but there was something solid about his presence that helped her relax. He’d said he’d keep her safe while she was here, and Jenna instinctively knew he meant every word.
Despite the ridiculously early hour, the village was already busy as they rode through. She heard the clinking of metal coming from somewhere as a blacksmith worked, the bleating of sheep as a shepherd worked his herd with his dogs on the hill next to Dun Tabor, the chatter of women as they crouched by the stream, washing out bedding. It all seemed so… normal. But for the wild setting and the rustic houses, it could have been any morning anywhere where people were busy going about their day.
Yet as they rode through the village, the villagers stopped what they were doing to watch her and Arran pass. While many called out greetings to their laird, many of them stared in awe at Jenna and she heard the whisper go around, “There she is! The spellweaver!”
Jeez,she thought.What exactly did my ancestors do to make the locals react like this?
She felt uncomfortable under their scrutiny, like a goldfish in a bowl, and she felt the weight of their expectation settle on her shoulders like an iron coat. She did not want to let them down.
She was relieved when they left the village behind and began passing through wilder country, empty of people but for shepherds with their flocks up on the hills. The sea sparkled in the distance in every direction, looking like a carpet of shiny sapphires under the spring sun. The vales and hills were a kaleidoscope of green and purple, and Jenna felt her breath hitch with the beauty of it all. If she didn’t know better, she could be fooled into thinking that this was a tranquil, bucolic place of peace and quiet beauty. But she did know better. The tranquility hid a dark truth, the evidence of which she’d seen only too clearly in the burned-out boats yesterday.
They rode in silence, and Arran didn’t bother to explain where they were going although he seemed to have a destination in mind. They were traveling northeast as far as Jenna could tell, through a craggy landscape of small lochs and heather-covered hills, with stone-and-thatch crofts scattered through the wide landscape.
“Where are we going?” she asked finally.
“Ye said ye wanted to understand the magic, did ye not?” Arran answered, his voice a deep rumble that reverberated through his chest. “So I’m taking ye to where it begins.”
No other explanation was forthcoming. Jenna shifted awkwardly in the saddle. Her backside was beginning to ache. Although they moved at nothing more than a fast walk, she’d already decided that shedid not like horse riding. It was uncomfortable and slow and she was sure she would have bruises covering her buttocks come the end of the day.
“So,” she said, trying to think of something to fill the silence. “This is Skye, huh?”
“Aye,” he breathed, his warm breath tickling her ear. “This is Skye, and a more beautiful place ye willnae find in all creation.” There was pride in his voice. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him looking out over the landscape with a gentle expression on his face. It made him look less stern, younger, and even more good-looking. The bright sunlight caused his eyes to shine a deeper blue than the tidal pool they’d jumped in yesterday, and from the bronze hue of his skin, she guessed he spent most of his time outside. Oh yes, he was definitely attractive, this taciturn Scottish laird. Which brought up another question.
“Are you married?”
He stiffened. “Why would ye ask that?”
“It’s just that I met so many people last night at the feast, but I don’t remember meeting your wife. People marry young in this time, don’t they? So I just assumed you’d have a wife.”
“Ye assumed wrong. I dinna have time for such things.”
The way he said it suggested he didn’t want to discuss this anymore. Well, what she’d discovered of him so far suggested that he didn’t want to discuss much of anything. Not to be deterred, Jenna tried a different tack. “Your mom seems nice.”
“Aye,” Arran replied stiffly. “She does well running my estate.”
Jenna laughed. “That’s not what I meant!” God, he was so straight-laced and stuffy! “I meant she’snice.I like her. Although, she seemed kind of… sad.”
Arran shifted uncomfortably. “These are difficult times.”
Jenna sighed, an image of the burned-out ships flashing through her head. “I know. Who are these people who keep attacking you?”
She felt Arran shrug. “Pirates and raiders. Skye lies in a strategic position close to the mainland’s rugged coast and within striking distance of Ireland. With so much coastline to protect, we are easy pickings for those who wish to make a living from killing and thieving. There have always been raids, from the mainland, from Ireland, from Iceland and Norway. But the magic always repelled them and kept us safe. Perhaps because of that, we grew complacent and when the magic failed, we weren’t prepared. That complacency cost my father and brother their lives, and the lives of many of my people. I willnae make the same mistake again.”
His voice was hard and tinged with regret. His hands, where they gripped the reins had curled into fists and, as if sensing his master’s anger, Bran began to snort and stamp.
Arran eased his grip and leaned forward to pat the gelding’s neck. “My apologies, lad,” he murmured. The movement brought him so close to Jenna that his arms brushed hers and his chest touched her back. She held herself rigid until he settled back, not liking the sudden rush of heat that went through her at his touch.
What was wrong with her?
They rode in silence after that while Jenna mulled over what she’d learned. The deaths of his father and brother had obviously hit Arran hard, and she began to understand a little more of what drove him and why he’d been willing to travel all the way to the future to find a way to help his people. It was a rare person who would risk so much for others.
The sun had risen to mid-morning and the day had turned hot and sticky by the time Arran announced they were nearing their destination. They had been climbing steadily up the craggy sides of a glen when he suddenly pulled the horse to a halt and pointed.
“There.”
Spread out ahead of them was an otherworldly landscape of undulating, cone-shaped hillocks interspersed with huge boulders andscattered with small lochs that glittered like coins under the sun. The hillocks were blanketed with gnarly trees from which curtains of moss hung down like old men’s beards. In the center of it all rose a huge square of sandstone which looked for all the world like some fairytale castle.
Jenna’s breath caught. The place had an ethereal, almost mystical beauty to it. And it thrummed with power.
