Tora woke up and explained to Maeve as if she read her mind, “Nay, not Gwandpapa Connor. Gwandpapa Alex is watching over us. He said to tell you not to wowwy. Maitland will save us on the morrow in the boat. Maitland, Sloan, and Eva.”
Maeve’s insides nearly burst. She wished to jump off the pallet and beg her dearest mother and father to help them get out now. If she could believe their ghosts were truly here watching over them and communicating with Tora and Sandor, she had so many questions.
“Gwamma says be patient. She says we will all be fine. She says my mama is coming on the morrow.” Then Tora sat up and said, “Gwamma, I’m cold.”
Maeve couldn’t imagine the lass would warm, but she had to ask. “What’s happening, Tora?”
“Gwamma told Gwanda to warm us up.” Then she giggled.
“What?” Maeve didn’t wish to miss any of this, whatever it was.
“Gwandda says she’s always cold. And she said, ‘Alex.’ And he said he fix us.”
A sudden blast of heat came from the ceiling as if a hearth sat above them. “Tora! Do you feel it?”
Tora said, “My thanks, Gwandpapa.” Then she settled back under her blanket.
“Da? Mama?” Tears misted her gaze as Maeve stared into the darkness. Alex and Maddie Grant had adopted her long ago and treated her as their own. She’d been their youngest, andonce she arrived on Grant land, she’d never left until she had fallen in love with Maitland.
Suddenly, the aroma of apples overpowered her, the same scent she had enjoyed whenever she and her father had picked apples in the orchard they’d planted long ago. She gasped and tipped her head back, inhaling to cherish the moment, the memories so strong that she could revisit the experience of running in the meadow, the scent of lavender from her mother now cascading over her.
“I’ll be patient, Mama. But please don’t go.” When the scent dissipated, she whispered, “Sandor, are they still there?”
The wee lad said, “Aye, Gwanda and Gwamma stayeen. I seepy.” His thumb returned to his mouth, and he closed his eyes.
Maeve breathed a sigh of relief and said a quick prayer of thanks. That was just what she needed to continue to be strong for these bairns.
The Torment of a Scottish Warrior
Book 4
The book where they all come together to fight evil.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Alasdair gets a message from his father and his grandfather…
Alasdair awakened to find himself chained to a wall in some unknown place. The cool, damp environment told him he was probably in a dungeon. He opened his eyes slowly so he could take in the situation without letting anyone know that he was awake.
It was dark. A torch set the only light they had through the small window in the top of the door. He studied the chamber he was in. He sat on a pallet, one foot chained to the wall, his bound hands in front of him allowing him little movement. Another bed held John, and the sight of him lying there looking so helpless nearly undid him. What the hell had happened out there? They’d never been overtaken by so many before, something they hadn’t expected. It was as if they knew they would be coming.
John was asleep on the small cot, his hands and feet tethered by rope to the bed. Lia sat on a smaller bed near him, her hands tied and covered with some fabric.
She was awake, watching him.
“Lia?”
“Aye, my lord?”
“Alasdair. Is John all right?”
“Of course he is. His safety is the reason I’m here, my lord. I mean, Alasdair.”
“Kelvan or Glenna?” he whispered, needing to assess the situation as quickly as he could. He may be chained to a wall, but he was far from helpless.
“Both are here somewhere.”
“His sword?”
