Duncan felt his entire body tense as her high-pitched laughter tinkled over him like shards of glass. He watched mutely as her gaze took in Mairi’s still form on the bed. Looking back at him, she laughed again, and the sound of it made all of the hurt, all of the helplessness and anguish he’d been feeling since this began, converge on him in one blinding flash of pure emotion. But as he lunged for her throat something slammed into the back of his head, driving daggers of pain into him, before dropping him into darkness.
Chapter 1
Thirteen years later
Dulhmeny Castle
The MacDonell stronghold
“The MacRaes! God help us, it’s the wild MacRaes come upon us from the north!”
Aileana MacDonell sat in her familiar spot at her bedchamber window, twisting her hands and trying to still her heart as she looked down at the frenzy taking place below her. The woman who’d shrieked the warning ran past, apron flapping, to scoop up a child in each arm. Various other clan folk darted in the direction of the bailey tower to grab spears, shovels, and chipped swords before rushing off to join in the battle cries Aileana heard burgeoning in the distance.
For the past quarter hour, since the early morning attack began, she’d been straining to see something, to understand what was happening. And now she knew the name of their attackers.
The MacRaes.
She’d thought them all dead; they’d all but vanished from the Highlands, as far as she knew. Standing up, she paced her chamber and dug through her memory, trying to recall the last battle her clan had fought with them.
She’d been a child of nine—only a year after Morgana had died in banishment for consorting with the English. TheEalachamulet that her sister had stolen from the MacRaes had been the root of that last war with them. But the enemy had been vanquished. TheEalachhad done its rightful work, bringing her clan peace. Bringing them prosperity…
And ensuring that Aileana remained isolated from everyone for most of the past thirteen years as its appointed keeper.
Pushing that thought aside, she paced to the window again, looking for some sign of her brothers. If only one of them would climb the wall outside her window to release her so that she could take a weapon and join in the defense of her home. Gavin and Robert used to sneak her out when Father was away. They’d run with her and tease her, never seeming to tire of plaguing her with tales of their bravery. Oh, how she craved some of their good-natured boasting now. If only Gavin would come to—
A sudden breathlessness made her sink to the edge of her bed. She clutched her stomach, awareness spreading thick in her veins, even as her fists clenched until the half-moons of her nails bit into her palms.
The amulet. Something had happened to theEalach.
Doubled over now, she gulped breaths of air to quell the ache. When the sensation passed, she pushed herself upright. Her instincts had never been wrong before; as the amulet’s keeper, her connection to it was strong. Something was amiss, but how? It rested secure as always in her chamber’s specially built hiding place, having never left the haven of Dulhmeny’s walls in nearly a decade and a half. Racing over to the gilded door that marked the recess in the wall, Aileana tested its lock. It held.
Curses. There was no other way to reassure herself of the amulet’s safety. Unless…
Ignoring a mental warning that reminded her of the punishment to be had for leaving her chamber without attendants to accompany her, Aileana ran out into the hall and then to her father’s rooms. Retrieving the silken cord and key from a chest near his bed, she rushed back to her chamber and fitted it in the lock. The door swung wide, revealing the sacred hollow. Its velvet cushion was empty.
“Oh Father, how could you?” Aileana’s horrified whisper echoed the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. How had he taken theEalachfrom its place without her knowing?
Her bath. Aye, everyone knew that she was allowed to leave the main portion of her bedchamber each day at dawn to bathe in privacy. She’d heard battle sounds beginning just as she was stepping from the washtub this morn. Father must have learned of the attack sooner—
Heaven have mercy, but he’d taken the amulet from its hiding place and onto the battlefield for protection.
Aileana felt faint as she considered what would happen to her clan if theEalachwere lost again. She’d been told of how it was in the past, of the darkness that surrounded them when the MacRaes still held it in their evil grip. Father had reminded her more than once that her own mother’s death, brought about by birthing Aileana, might have been prevented, if only theEalachhad been near.
A familiar pain twisted her insides, and she sat down hard on her bed. From her very first breath she’d brought grief to everyone. So it had only been right that when the amulet came back into her clan’s possession, she be groomed as its keeper. She’d accepted it long ago. Learned to swallow the resentment that swelled whenever she allowed herself to consider all of the time that was lost to her forever—the normal rhythms and flow of life amongst her clansmen that she would never enjoy.
TheEalachprovided security. It brought the MacDonells good fortune. Without it, life was unpredictable and terrifying, and she knew that she’d spill her own blood before she’d allow anyone or anything to threaten her clan’s security again.
Bolting out into the corridor, Aileana descended the curved staircase two steps at a time. She slipped into the great hall, her gaze darting round the piles of possessions others had left behind in their hurry to seek safety or a place in the battle raging beyond the keep. She knew she risked Father’s wrath in doing this, but the amulet was at stake. Her hands trembled as she stripped off her overskirt and tunic before donning a lad’s garments that she found in a heap of belongings abandoned near the hearth: a shirt, leather vest, and leggings. Lastly, she tied a plaid at her waist and tucked her long hair beneath a helmet.
Her breathing slowed, calming to a rhythm of grim determination as she walked from the keep. The sounds, scents, and tumultuous sights of the yard assailed her senses, but still she continued on. Past the gate and up the crest of the brae, she strode, in the direction of the battle sounds.
She had to find theEalach, whether she risked her life or no. It was in great danger, God help them, and the salvation of her clan depended on her ability to bring it to safety again.
Morning mist drifted across the field, blanketing the dead and dying like a mother’s cooling touch. It obscured much of the carnage from Duncan MacRae’s view, but nothing could block the groans and screams echoing off the cliffs. All around him moans of pain swelled in eerie chorus, making his mount stamp and snort. Glendragon skittered sideways, and Duncan tensed, pressing his knees into the stallion’s sides.
His gaze swept the field with predatory efficiency. He clenched his ruined, twisted fingers within their leather gauntlet, savoring the aching wound. Its throbbing had intensified today from wielding his claymore against so much resisting bone and flesh. The threading scar on his cheek—another token from his English captors—tightened as he clenched his jaw, and he fought the urge to stroke his fingers across its whitened flesh.
Where was the devil’s spawn?The MacDonell chieftain had fallen, of that he was sure. He’d seen one of his men strike the fatal blow only moments ago, straight through the MacDonell’s black heart. Yet there’d been no time to search the body. The man’s legions had swarmed around them, preventing Duncan from gaining his just reward.
