Lachlann. The man’s name was Lachlann. They each moved forward, but only nodded their greeting, apparently not willing to chase after her brother’s drunken limbs.
“Aye, I remember ye now. How’s the jaw?” Malcolm’s question was directed at Lachlann.
He wiggled his jaw. “None the worse.”
“Welcome. Stay as long as ye like,” Malcolm said, right before dropping again to the ground, and Ethne came forward in his place.
“Ye have met my brother, Malcolm. And this is his wife…” As one, they turned toward the sleeping woman. “Domelch.”
“I am called Finn.” The lad had come with Ethne, standing in front of her now. He stretched his neck to look up at them. “Welcome. Come join us by the fire.”
The lad’s words startled Ethne until she realized he was only repeating what Malcolm always said, what he would be saying if he had not over-imbibed. It was still endearing and brought a smile to her face. She wasn’t certain if he recognized Lachlann.
“Please.” Directing them to sit, she climbed over Domelch to grab what was left of their ale. “Would ye care for some?”
Niall said, “We do not mean to put ye out…?”
“Ethne.” She was quick to answer the unasked question, scanned the three of them, pausing at Lachlann, and said, “I am called Ethne.”
Chapter 12
Lachlann lay on his back, his eyes fixed on the brightening sky through the cave opening. The cave was surprisingly warm, easily holding the heat from the fire that had long since burned out. Domelch, who never did wake up, snored loudly, then mumbled something incoherent. She lay right where she had apparently passed out. Her husband, Malcolm, had moved to their pallet where the ceiling sloped lower. The large man, whom Ethne had introduced as Uradech, lay in the space between them both.
Leaning on an elbow, Lachlann turned toward the small pallet hidden in the shadows. The boy was curled up in the arms of his aunt. Ethne. Now, Lachlann had a name to go with the lovely face of the woman he’d encountered. For the slightest of moments, he thought she had not recognized him, but then she smiled. A smile of recognition from a beautiful woman, and his heart had quickened.
Finn had recognized him for certain, speaking about the size of the whales they could see, but not claiming to remember him outright. That was just as well. It made their shared meeting more intimate.
Intimate?Lachlann shook his head and lay his head back down.
Aldred snored behind him like the dead. Served him right after the way he’d been carrying on with Sophie. Yet he’d had no qualms about setting her aside when they learned where Holy Man’s cave was. But she’d had none either.
“Are ye awake?” Niall asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Lachlann turned to him and nodded. Niall motioned to the door, and they went out into the light.
“Have we found the place? Or is there another cave?” Niall spoke quietly.
Lachlann kept his eyes on the horizon, watching for the sun. “This is the cave that opens up to the sea. It must be the one.”
“And with these people living here, would they not have found anything once hidden? How long did the girl say they’d lived here?”
“Ethnetold us they’ve been here five summers.” She had become very animated once her brother had passed out, sharing with the young Finn the entertainment expected from hosts. They were quite close, their love for each other more like that of a mother and son. But Malcolm? Even drunk, he’d been overbearing. The question was where did Uradech fit in. He mostly sat brooding like an old hen, darting angry glances at the three of them as if they’d ruined his fun.
“ButEthnealsosaid they grew up in the highlands, so how is that possible?” Niall stressed her name just as Lachlann had, but making no comment about it.
“I took it to mean there have always been people living here. Their people.”
Niall snorted. “And what people are those?”
“Is it not obvious?” Lachlann asked. “The drawings on the wall? The game the boy was playing? These are the Picts. Or rather this is where the Picts lived, and these are the drawings they left behind. Averralong time ago. These people appear to have chosen to follow in the same path for some reason.”
“And somehow they know the games the Picts would have played?”
Lachlann scoffed. “Iknow the games as well.”
“But pagans?”
“I suppose the Pictswerepagans, but were we not all pagans until we accepted Christ as our Lord and Savior? The Scots? The Celts? The Saxons? The Danes? These are people playing at being Picts. They are not truly so. I dinna believe there are any of them around anymore. They’ve intermarried, just as the Normans do with the Saxons. Our grandchildren may one day wonder where all the powerful Saxons went.”
