Highlander's Winter Tale Page 6

  “That is nonsense,” Alexander said with his usual laugh. “How could I have left here when the door was bolted? Besides, it is a tower room, I would not survive such a fall, if foolish enough to jump if there was a window, and I certainly could not have gotten passed you and the other large warrior.” He gave a nod to the warrior, standing beside the one who had spoken.

  “Evil cannot always be seen,” the large warrior said, glaring at Alexander.

  Alexander threw his arms out from his sides. “Do I look like I am evil?”

  The same warrior responded. “Evil has many faces and more often it is the most unlikely face of all that evil wears.”

  “Does evil bleed?” Alexander challenged, stretching his hand out, his one finger bandaged and stained with his blood that had seeped through the cloth.

  “Who tended your wound?” Cree demanded.

  “Your healer,” Alexander said, “and her touch was most tender.”

  Cree caught the smug look that flashed across his face.

  “You have no worries from me. I am but a wanderer seeking shelter from the snowstorm. When the snow is gone,” —Alexander looked to each one of them— “I shall be gone as well.”

  Alexander sounded as if he recited part of the tale and the one warrior shouted, “And what will you leave in your wake?”

  Alexander’s smile grew. “Nothing!”

  Cree’s hand went up, stopping the warrior from responding. “Man, demon, ghost, evil or not, I do not care. If one more of my clan falls ill or anyone dies, I will see you sent where you belong.”

  “And where is that?”

  “Hell!”

  Cree had four warriors guard the bolted door and though none refused or protested the chore, he knew his men well enough to know that not one of them wanted to be there. There were some things that struck fear even in the bravest of warriors and a man cursed by an evil witch was one of them.

  “Where does Dawn wait for me?” Cree asked as he and Sloan descended the stairs. When Sloan failed to answer him immediately, Cree stopped abruptly. “Do not tell me you do not know where she is?”

  “The last I saw her, she was trailing behind the warriors on our way to you.”

  Cree took the stairs faster. “My message was clear for her to return with the guards.”

  “It is not for lack of hearing or understanding that Dawn sometimes fails to obey you,” Sloan said.

  Cree stopped abruptly again and nearly shouted, “Sometimes?”

  Sloan shrugged. “Most of the time, but you must admit that her disobedience often proves helpful in certain situations.”

  “Like when she rescued me from that prison when no one else could?”

  “You have proved my point.”

  Cree shook his head and hurried down the stairs. “Then we best find her, for no doubt she has gone off on her own to try and solve this problem.”

  Chapter Eight

  Snow was falling, not as heavily as yesterday, but steadily and without the accompanying vicious wind. If it continued, it could add to the already burdensome snow on the ground. Dawn kept a brisk pace. Having failed to return to her husband’s side, he would be searching for her soon enough and demanding an explanation. She hoped to return to the keep before he became too irritated and hoped her visit with Elwin would prove beneficial so that she had something to share with her husband that would soothe his annoyance. She smiled, thinking that there were others ways she could find to soothe him that were much more enjoyable—for them both.

  Dawn moved aside, along the only clear path through the snow to the keep, when she saw a large warrior carrying Elsa in his arms. Neil walked behind him and another warrior followed behind him. She tapped her chest and pointed to Neil when he glanced her way, letting him know her heart went out to him. He acknowledged her with a nod, looking more worried than she had ever seen him. Neither Neil nor Elsa had ever married or had any intentions of falling in love. Elsa had always been too busy with her love of healing and Neil too busy warring alongside Cree. But since settling here in Dowell, the two found each other and were now inseparable.

  Dawn hurried on once they passed by, knowing Elsa would be urging her to find out what was causing so many to fall ill instead of worrying over her.

  Not all snowdrifts had been cleared away from doors, especially the further away from the keep she got. She nearly panicked when she saw that up ahead the path stopped abruptly. How would she ever get to Elwin? She smiled with relief when she saw a clear path had been dug off the major path, and she took it straight to Elwin’s cottage.

  Elwin opened the door to her knock. He was impressive in size, but not in features. He was a plain man, soft-spoken, and considerate, and the opposite when it came to battle. He was one of Cree’s most seasoned warriors and one her husband greatly respected.

  “My lady?” he said, wondering what she was doing at his door.

  Dawn hugged herself and pretended to shiver.

  “Forgive me, my lady, come in, come in,” he said, stepping back and waving her in. “I was so surprised to see you here that my manners failed me.”

  Dawn stepped into the one room cottage and smiled at the delicious scent that wafted off the cauldron bubbling over the flames in the fireplace. Seeing that Dorrie was not there, Dawn gestured to Elwin who surprisingly understood Dawn much easier than most.

  “Dorrie took some fresh baked bread to some of the older clan’s people stuck in their cottages.”

  At one time that would have surprised Dawn, but not now. Dorrie had changed and for the better. She smiled and nodded and pointed to the chair at the table.

  “Sit, please sit,” Elwin said, shaking his head at himself. “My manners elude me again.” He grew concerned when he saw Dawn’s smile fade as she sat. “What is wrong, my lady?”

  She shrugged and shook her head slowly and gestured, explaining why she had come to see him.

  Elwin scratched his head and appeared as confused as Dawn. “I cannot think why Old Mary would send you to me. I do not know how I can help.”

  Dawn sighed, her hope of finding something that would help calm, settle, and end this strange situation slowly fading away. She gestured with little hope of it helping, though needing to try, asking how and where he had heard of the tale.

  “It has been many years since I first heard of the tale and once I did, I wanted nothing to do with it,” Elwin admitted. “Many in the Highlands carry a talisman to protect them against witches. It is a shame the man of the Winter Tale did not follow that custom.”

  It troubled Dawn that Old Mary could be wrong, sending her to Elwin. She had never known the old woman to be mistaken. Though, there had been occasions she wished Old Mary had been wrong. This was not one of them.

  Dawn thanked Elwin and took her leave. She almost bumped into Dorrie coming up the path, the snow falling so heavily they could barely see each other.

  “My lady, whatever are you doing out in this snow, it worsens by the minute. I barely found my way back here. I will go fetch Elwin and have him see you safely to the keep.”

  Dawn shook her head and indicated that she would follow the path and hurried off before Dorrie could summon Elwin. She did not wish to take the chance of having Elwin stuck at the keep, leaving Dorrie isolated in their cottage.

  She paid heed to her steps, making certain she remained on the path, but it seemed that the snow fell more heavily with every step she took. She could barely see in front of her. A strong wind suddenly joined the snow, swirling the snowflakes around her like a whirlwind and blinding her steps. She stumbled a few times and one final stumble had her falling to her knees. She fumbled, trying to get up and when she did, she could not tell if she was facing the path to the keep or away from it.

  A chill ran through her and she pulled her fur-lined cloak more tightly around her. She had to get to the safety of the keep or at least find a cottage that would help her determine what direction to go in.

  It took only a few steps for her t
o realize that the snow would not let her see anything, not a cottage, not the keep, not the next step in front of her. She could not, however, simply stay where she was, she had to keep moving. The bitter cold whipped at her as she trudged along, praying she was headed in the right direction.

  Dawn stopped suddenly, thinking she heard a voice. Was someone calling her? It was difficult to tell with the wind whistling around her. She remained still for a moment and heard it again. Was that her name she heard? She could not be sure since the sound was caught on the wind and rushed off before she could hear it clearly.

  “Dawn!”

  Her name was clear, but not who called it.

  A voice rose on the wind again, but failed to reach her

  “Dawn!”

  The voice seemed to come from one direction. Had Cree sent his men out searching for her? Were they calling out her name? Were they expecting her to follow their shouts? And if so, why was she reluctant to do so?

  “Dawn!”

  Her name sounded like a quiver on the wind, making it impossible to tell who called out to her. Who was it who waited out there in the blinding snow for her?

  Could it be Alexander?

  He was locked away or so everyone thought. Dawn did not believe there was a lock or chains that could hold the strange man. He went where he pleased and no one could stop him, and he would not leave them in peace until the snow was gone.

  “Damn it, Dawn, I am going to shackle you to me.”

  Cree! That was Cree. His strong voice tore through the vicious wind and snow and landed clearly around her. Please! Please call out again so I can follow your voice.

  Dawn!

  Her hand pressed at her stomach that roiled at hearing her name so clearly spoken in her head. Alexander was here.

  “Dawn, follow the sound of my voice the best you can. I will keep speaking until you are standing in front of me, and then I will give you a good scolding for disobeying me, something you do daily.”

  Dawn listened to her husband continue to talk, following the sound of his voice more powerful than the winter wind.

  “I am growing impatient, wife. There is much I have to say to you and much explaining you have to do.”

  Dawn listened to his voice grow closer and closer as he went on and on until finally she saw a shadow ahead in the whirling snow. She hurried toward it, wishing she could call out and let him know she was there.

  She almost fell to her knees, she stopped so abruptly when she realized the shadow was not her husband—it was Alexander. His body seemed to sway with the wind for a moment before turning more solid like a specter taking form.

  He held his hand out to her, smiling, confident that she would take it.

  “Dawn!”

  Her husband’s voice broke through her fright and she wanted to run to him, but how did she get passed the ghostly Alexander? Dawn was not sure if it was the bitter cold or fear that had her body trembling or kept her legs from moving. Obstacles were not strangers to her and she had faced the largest obstacle of them all the day she was born without a voice. Strength was something she had found out of necessity and courage she had gained along the way. Yet at this moment both failed her.

  She had met with some harsh situations, one of them being the day she first met Cree and, though fear had held her captive, she had survived. But Cree was a man of flesh and blood while Alexander was a cursed man neither living nor dead. How did one deal with such an ungodly creature?

  In the next instant, her husband’s action answered her concern.

  Like a mighty warrior eager to enter a battle, Cree stepped right through Alexander, dissipating his ghostly form like nothing more than a puff of smoke.

  Cree was ready to give his wife a good tongue lashing as his arm slipped past her cloak to circle her waist. The words on his tongue died before they reached his lips when he felt how icy cold she was and how violently she trembled. He scooped her up in his arms, shouted for Sloan that he had found her so that he could alert his warriors who searched for her, and hurried her into the keep, up the stairs, and straight to their bedchamber.

  He disposed of his cloak and hers after setting her on her feet, then sat her in the chair by the fire. He grabbed a blanket from the bed, tucked it snugly around her, and knelt in front of her to quickly remove her wet boots. He took one ice cold foot in his hand and began to rub warmth back into it, alternating between both.

  A knock sounded at the door and after Cree gave permission, Flanna entered with a steaming pitcher and two tankards. She filled one and handed it to Dawn and looked to Cree. He shook his head.

  Dawn’s hands trembled when she reached out from beneath the blanket to take hold of it and Cree reached up and closed his hand around her two to help steady the tankard so she could take a drink.

  Flanna closed the door on the couple as she left the room.

  Dawn rested the tankard on her lap after taking several sips of the hot brew, cupping her hands around the heated vessel and letting it warm them.

  Cree returned to rubbing her chilled feet that had yet to warm, looking up at her as he did. “Did I not command you to return with the guards?”

  Dawn nodded and went to gesture with one hand, but Cree stopped her.

  “I am not finished,” he snapped. “If the servant had not told me that Old Mary insisted you go speak with Elwin, I would not have known where to look for you.” He settled an angry scowl on her that would have silenced her if she had a voice. “You not only put yourself at unnecessary risk, but also my men who went in search of you. You rush headlong into things without thought or consequences.”

  Dawn nodded, agreeing.

  “You placate me by agreeing with me?” he snapped again, though gave her no chance to respond. “I should keep you tethered to me, but somehow I think you would feel that more a reward than a punishment.”

  Dawn could not stop from smiling.

  “You smile when you drive me mad with worry?” he said, trying to temper his voice and anger.

  Dawn’s smile quickly vanished and she gestured an apology.

  “Sorry does me little good when I suffer the tortures of hell, thinking something has happened to you and I cannot reach you. I want to roar to the heavens in anger and give my soul to the devil himself to see you safe.”

  A small smile crept up to tickle her lips as she gestured.

  While his scowl remained strong, his words held less anger. “You are right. The devil would fear me and give me what I wanted just to be rid of me.” He tapped the tip of her nose. “Listen to me well, wife, for I will not—” He shook his head. “There is no point in telling you I will not repeat myself, since it is something I find myself constantly doing with you. What might actually have you listening to me is the severity of this situation. This problem is different from others. This stranger seems capable of odd and unexplainable things. It will take more than a mere weapon to defeat him.” He gave his chest a hard tap as he issued a forceful command. “I forbid you,” — he poked her chest—“to leave the keep without my permission. And I will make everyone aware of my command, so that you are stopped from leaving, if you should try.”

  Dawn cherished the freedom her marriage to Cree had given her and though he demanded obedience more often than not, she failed to obey him more often than not and without barely any consequences. But in this instance, she thought it wise to follow his dictate.

  Cree watched as she gestured her response, ready to do whatever was necessary to protect her from her foolish actions. His scowl slowly lessened and when she finished, he said, “You are telling me that you will let each person you speak with know where you go next, letting me easily keep track of your whereabouts?”

  Dawn nodded and pressed her hand to her chest, giving her solemn word.

  “And you will not leave the keep?”

  She nodded, smiled softly, and reached out to give his hand a squeeze.

  He gripped her hand tight, stood, leaned over her, and brought his lips
to rest close to hers. “An obedient wife at last.” Then he kissed her.

  It was a kiss that claimed her, demanded from her, and loved her. His hand went around her neck to take hold and he kissed her with all the strength of a mighty Highland warrior and with all the love of a husband who cherished his wife.

  The kiss aroused Dawn and sent a shiver of passion racing through her and relief that she was in her husband’s arms. Between the raging snow and Alexander’s ghostly apparition appearing, she had feared she might never feel Cree’s touch or his kiss again.

  “You are still chilled,” Cree said and went to reach for the blanket. Her hand took hold of his arm and stopped him. One look in her eyes told him what she wanted. She wanted him to warm her.

  His manhood had stirred when taking her in his arms and carrying her to their bedchamber. Rubbing warmth into her cold feet had stirred him even more. But what had aroused him the most was that she was safe, here with him, and not lost to him. The one way to reaffirm that was to join with her and become one as they so often did. The hungry kiss and the desire in her dark eyes let him know that she felt the same.

  Though he was certain of it, he wanted to hear her say it since her gestures were like words to his ears. His grip on the back of her neck tightened as he asked, “You want me?”

  She mouthed her response, since their lips were so close. Always.

  If she could speak, it would be soft but strong, for that was how her response drifted around him, hugging with the strength of her love.

  His mouth claimed hers once again, only this time with an unrelenting passion.

  This would be no tender joining, their need was too great.

  Dawn reached out and hurried her hand beneath his plaid to feel him hard and ready. She grew more excited as her hand stroked the length of his silky, smooth manhood.

  Cree tore his mouth away from hers and rested his brow to hers, his breathing labored as he said, “Keep touching me like that and I will spill in your hand.”

  Dawn pulled her hand away and smiled when he groaned in regret.