She and Cailean helped Seamus into the cart with a lot of puffing and swearing on the old man’s part, and then Cailean took hold of the handles and began pushing it. Rose walked beside the cart, steadying the blankets she’d wrapped around Seamus’s shoulders as they began their trek along the muddy trail.
*
Rose saw evidenceof the storm everywhere. Fences were down, bedraggled chickens and goats wandering wherever they liked, thatch had been torn from roofs, overturned buckets and barrels, broken branches, and piles of sodden leaves lay everywhere.
The storm had been a wild one, all right. It had kept her awake most of the night, howling around the keep’s walls like an angry spirit shouting to be let in. Although she had to admit it, she’d not been asleep, anyway. There was too much going around in her head for sleep to come easily.
She didn’t look at Cailean as they made their way through the village, but she couldfeelhim. His presence was like a lodestone, and she was sure she would be able to pinpoint his direction even with her eyes closed.
They finally reached Seamus’s daughter’s house, a large, ramshackle place that stood on the edge of the village and seemed to have escaped the worst of the storm’s ravages. Seamus’s daughter, a big-boned woman with flaming red hair, came hurrying up the path, wiping her hands on an apron and surrounded by a gaggle of excited children.
“Grandpa!” they cried, gathering around the cart and firing a hundred questions at Seamus.
Seamus, for his part, managed to crack a smile. “One at a time! I canna hear myself think with all yer caterwauling!”
“What have ye gone and done to yerself this time, Da?” his daughter asked, putting her hands on her ample hips and glaring down at the old man.
Seamus waved a hand. “Dinna fash, Brina. It’s only a twisted ankle. But ye should see the tree that tried to kill me!” He turned to his grandchildren. “Enormous, it was! Came straight for me, it did, but yer old grandpa is too wily to be caught by any mangy old tree!”
The children gasped, wide-eyed.
Brina rolled her eyes. “Thank ye for yer help, my laird,” she said toCailean. “Please come inside.”
Cailean helped Seamus out of the cart and into Brina’s house, where he collapsed into a chair by the fire. Rose knelt to check the bandages while Cailean enquired after Brina and her family.
“Och, we got through unscathed, thank the old gods and the new,” Brina said. “And the children thought it was all grand fun. My husband, Eoin, has gone to check on the boats. It was low tide though, so I’m hopeful there isnae too much damage.”
Cailean nodded. “Aye. Let’s hope ye are right.”
Brina poured them both mugs of hot cider from a pot hanging over the fire, and Rose took hers gratefully. Her hands were red from the cold, and she enjoyed the heat that flowed into her fingers as she wrapped them around the warm cup.
“We’ve not had a storm like that in many a year,” Brina said, taking a sip from her own mug. “Why, it was enough to almost make ye believe in the old tales again. Especially with the stormlights.”
“Stormlights?” Rose asked, turning a puzzled glance on the woman.
“Ye didnae see them?” Brina replied. “Over by the headland? Like lightning but underwater. Blue, and green, and purple. Reminded me of the old tales my da used to tell me when I was a bairn. The bairns thought it was the sea god rising in anger again. They hid under the table!”
“No, we didnae!” the children piped up. “It was ye who was frightened, Ma!”
Cailean grunted noncommittally, but Rose straightened, curiosity prickling.
“There are old tales about sea gods?” she asked.
Seamus waved a hand. “Bah! Of course there are. What do ye expect from a people who depend on the sea? My old gran used to say the Kingdom of the Isles was watched over by a god and goddess. He ruled the sea, and she ruled the land. She loved her people and broughtthem good fishing and calm weather. But the god grew jealous, thinking she loved the people more than she loved him, so he cursed her.”
Rose’s grip tightened on her mug. “Cursed her how?”
“Who knows? But the old tales say the stormlights are his wrath rising, trying to draw her back—or punish her for leaving.” He shrugged. “Ye see? Naught but a child’s tale.”
Rose narrowed her eyes, thinking. “Is it?” she said softly. “Or is it something more? I wonder.”
Cailean glanced at her. “What are ye thinking, lass?”
Rose blinked, clearing her thoughts. “I… um… nothing. Yet.” She finished her cider and handed the empty mug out to Brina. “Thank you for the drink. It’s warmed me up nicely. Try to keep your dad off his feet for the next few days if you can.”
“I’m right here, ye know,” Seamus grumbled.
Brina rolled her eyes. “Dinna ye worry. I’ll make sure he behaves himself, even if I have to get the children to pin him down.”
