Highlander Lord of Fire Read online

  “Did you just hit me with a snowball?” Tarass demanded.

  “Since I’m blind and can’t see, you would need to be the one to answer that,” she said with a chuckle and wasn’t surprised to feel Thaw lean against her leg.

  Tarass couldn’t stop himself from smiling, though chased it away when he saw the shocked look on the young lads’ faces.

  “Be gone or be punished,” Tarass snapped at the lads and they scattered, disappearing in a heartbeat.

  “They’ve done nothing wrong,” Snow said, coming to their defense, “except have some fun in the snow. Something I’ve missed myself and was pleased to enjoy with them.”

  “You could have been hurt,” Tarass argued.

  Snow laughed. “Snowballs bring laughter not tears.”

  “What are you doing walking out here alone?” he demanded, noticing how her flushed cheeks brightened the green of her eyes and how her lips appeared rosier in color from the cold. She didn’t only look beautiful, she looked happy, and for a sheer moment he felt a spark of happiness himself and it startled him, not having felt it for some time.

  “I was looking for you,” she said.

  “Where is Nettle? Why isn’t she with you?” he asked, annoyed.

  “Fasta ordered her to the kitchen,” Snow said and thought she heard him swear.

  “So you ventured out of the keep on your own?”

  “Not on my own. Thaw is with me,” she said, looking down to the pup still leaning against her leg.

  Thaw barked.

  Tarass shook his head, trying to comprehend how she put so much faith in the pup. “Why were you looking for me?”

  “I heard about the two dead men that your warriors brought here and was wondering about them,” she said.

  “That doesn’t concern you.”

  “It most certainly does,” she argued. “Do you know who they are? Is one Finn? Do you know who the other one is? Did your men find my horses?”

  “Leave the matter to me,” he ordered.

  “No!” she said, shaking her head. “If you did find Finn, I wish to express my gratitude and take him home for burial. And I would like to know about the other dead man. The one I tripped over. Or are both men unknown to you? And are they unknown to me?”

  “I will discuss it all with James,” Tarass said.

  Snow was ready to argue, then thought better of it. She reached out to touch him and her hand landed on his shoulder. She trailed it down until her hand rested on his chest. “Please, Tarass, don’t leave me in the dark and ignorant of this situation. I want to know what goes on. I will worry less knowing, rather than left to wonder.”

  Tarass couldn’t believe his own words and that he smiled. “Only if you promise me no more snowball fights.”

  “A compromise,” she said with a laugh. “Only snowball fights that you participate in.”

  “Agreed,” he said without hesitation and was shocked that he did, but then she had looked to be having so much fun with the lads that he had envied her.

  “I’ll win you know,” she whispered, leaning her head toward him,

  He bent his head down. “You can try.”

  “A challenge I cannot refuse,” she said with a soft laugh.

  He chuckled himself. “A challenge I look forward to.”

  “We’re ready,” Rannock called out.

  Tarass made the decision quickly. “The two dead men were taken to a hut. I’m going there now to see if they can be identified. You may come if you wish.”

  “Thank you, I do wish to see for myself.” Snow sighed. “Though, I will need your eyes to help me see.”

  “My eyes are your eyes,” he said, again his words surprising him. When had it become so easy to talk with this woman? They had fought and disagreed often. How had he come to enjoy her company? And why had he gotten the feeling that he missed seeing her this morning?

  He took her arm to hook around his as they walked through the village together, Thaw keeping pace with them. He saw the curious stares and he knew they wondered about him and Snow. But he and Snow would never be, and it surprised him to feel a twinge of regret at the thought.

  Rannock and Runa were waiting for him when he and Snow entered the hut.

  Tarass acknowledged them both, letting Snow know they were there. He also acknowledged the one dead man.

  “Finn is one of the men, Snow,” Tarass said.

  Sorrow filled her face. “At least you found him and he can have a proper burial. I hope his death was quick and he did not suffer when his heart suddenly stopped.”

  “It wasn’t a stopped heart that took his life,” Runa said. “It was a severe blow to the back of his head that killed him.”

  Chapter 10

  Fear wasn’t a foreign feeling to Snow, but this time when it crawled over her it was slow and prickly as if hundreds of bugs were feasting on her. Had Finn’s assailant not seen her in the snowstorm? Had the blinding snowstorm protected her from meeting Finn’s fate? Or dare she believe that Finn had been the target? But why? Why would someone want to kill Finn? He was a good man and had been a good husband for twenty years before his wife took ill and died two years ago. They had no children, but the clan was his family and the young bairns loved him. He often whittled animals for them to enjoy.

  “I don’t understand,” Snow said, shaking her head. “Why would anyone want to hurt Finn?”

  “You told me that you weren’t alerted to any problem until the horses stopped and you got no response when you called out to Finn,” Tarass reminded. “You or Thaw heard nothing before that? And what of Thaw? Didn’t he alert you to something being amiss?”

  “The wind was howling around us and the snowfall so heavy that Finn attached a rope to the horses so we wouldn’t get separated. I kept Thaw on my lap, tucked inside my cloak, worried I’d lose him in the storm and—” She paused, her finger going to her lips as she thought a moment. “Thaw did grow restless at one point, anxious now that I think about it, but I assumed it was the storm. Do you know the other dead man? Could he have been the one to attack Finn? What caused his death?”

  “He’d been stabbed, though I don’t believe that’s what killed him. He had wrapped a strip of cloth around the wound and stopped the bleeding,” Tarass explained. “He probably continued walking, perhaps searching for shelter and, weak from his wound, probably collapsed and froze to death.”

  “Is he known to anyone?” Snow asked.

  “I don’t believe so,” Tarass said.

  “I’ve never seen him,” Runa said.

  Rannock agreed. “I haven’t either.”

  Snow found herself shaking her head again. “This is all so puzzling.”

  “If I have any further need of you, Runa, I’ll send for you,” Tarass said, dismissing the healer and with a bob of her head at him took her leave.

  “Perhaps you should see if any of your clan knows this man,” Snow suggested. Once again she was reminded that it was moments like these, not being able to see faces of those with her, that troubled her the most. Tones of voices compensated some, but not as much as seeing the expression on a person’s face or in their eyes.

  “A wise point,” Rannock said and looked to Tarass, “though the painted markings on his arm does tell us he’s not from around here.”

  “Permanent painted markings?” Snow questioned.

  She was met with a moment of silence before Rannock responded.

  “I could be wrong about them being markings.”

  “I’ll take you back to the keep,” Tarass said and took hold of her arm once again.

  When they stepped outside, Snow stopped and asked, “Why did you have Rannock lie to me?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m blind, not ignorant,” Snow snapped. “That pause before Rannock answered was obviously due to a silent exchange between you two. What is it you don’t want me to know?”

  “You are perceptive,” Tarass said with a bit of annoyance. “Perceptive enough
to realize if I didn’t want you to know that I’m not about to tell you, since it doesn’t concern you?”

  “If it has anything to do with Finn’s death, I should know,” she argued.

  “No, not you, your brother, and I will relay all to him when I return you home.”

  “As you say,” Snow said and began walking.

  After a moment of hesitation, Tarass fell in step surprised by her agreeable response. Not that he trusted it, nor her silence. Both warned him something was afoot.

  “Leave this be, Snow,” he ordered.

  “As you say, Lord Tarass,” Snow said.

  Her obedience in this matter did not set well with him. “You’re not going to obey me, are you?”

  “I will do as you say as a guest in your home,” she said with a pleasant smile.

  “And once you leave here?” he asked, but knew what her reply would be.

  “That doesn’t concern you,” she said.

  His annoyance flared sparking his temper. “If you were my wife—”

  “Thankfully, I’m not.”

  Thaw agreed with a bark.

  They didn’t speak again until they were in the Great Hall and Snow was seated at a table.

  Tarass leaned down near her. “You will—”

  “Stay put,” she finished.

  “I wish I could trust you to do that, but since I can’t, you will have Nettle with you at all times until your departure.” He called out to a servant, cutting off her response. “Bring Fasta and Nettle to me.”

  “When will you return me home?” she asked.

  “Hopefully tomorrow.”

  “I look forward to it,” she said with a generous smile.

  He couldn’t wait for her to leave. She was nothing but a problem, needing looking after all the time, getting into things she shouldn’t, questioning him, and disobeying his every word. She was a nuisance and disruptive, and courageous, though blind. He shook his head. what was he thinking? He had to get her home. Get her out of his life.

  “You summoned me and Nettle, my lord,” Fasta called out.

  Tarass stood, his tone stern. “Nettle is to remain with Snow at all times while she remains a guest here. She is to do nothing else but tend to Snow. Is that clear, Fasta?”

  “Aye, my lord,” Fasta said with a bow of her head.

  With the unwavering obedience Snow heard in Fasta’s quick response, she could tell that something had caused the woman to obey without comment. More than likely the anger in Tarass’s voice matched the angry scowl on his face.

  “When will our guest be leaving, my lord?” Fasta asked.

  “That doesn’t concern you, Fasta, and I’m sure it’s no problem with Nettle helping her since you constantly request she be placed elsewhere.”

  “She is a trying soul,” Fasta said, defending herself.

  Snow’s heart ached for the young woman that she was made to feel unwanted and in front of others. She hated when others talked about her as if she wasn’t there and to hear it done to another was too much for her to take.

  “You’re both extremely cruel people talking about Nettle that way while she stands here in front of you. You both should be ashamed of yourself,” Snow scolded, her tongue sharp, and Thaw added a snarling bark as if agreeing.

  Complete silence followed. Not a word or sound was heard.

  Tarass leaned so close to Snow that their noses almost touched.

  A rumbling growl started low in Thaw and began to grow in warning. Snow wisely ordered the pup to be quiet.

  “Don’t ever dare reprimand me,” he ordered and when she went to speak, he pressed his finger to her lips. “Not a single word from you. You will obey me while you are here or I will see you confined to your room.”

  It took a strong willpower to hold her tongue, but the thought of such confinement and the dire warning in his voice, did much to stop her from responding.

  “Rannock, my solar,” Tarass ordered and walked off.

  Snow wondered when Rannock had entered the Great Hall. She knew others were around, having heard footfalls scurrying about.

  “Don’t let her get into any more trouble or you’ll be the one to suffer, Nettle,” Fasta said.

  “Aye,” Nettle said, and held her tongue until Fasta was out of sight. “They’re all gone.”

  Snow offered an apology. “I’m sorry if I’ve caused you trouble.”

  “You haven’t. Actually, it was quite nice to have someone defend me.”

  “Sit and have hot cider with me,” Snow offered.

  Nettle sat and added more cider to Snow’s tankard and filled a tankard for herself.

  “This is a treat. I never get to sit and enjoy a hot cider,” Nettle said. “So tell me, did you see the two dead men? Do you know either one?”

  There was no pretense to Nettle, she was who she was and Snow liked that about her.

  “One man was a friend and belonged to my clan,” Snow said.

  “I’m so sorry. I will offer a prayer for him,” Nettle said.

  Snow heard the genuine sympathy in her voice and it was comforting. “I appreciate that, Nettle.”

  “You didn’t know the other man?” Nettle asked.

  Snow shook her head, then stopped. “I don’t believe so, but then no one detailed his features to me. Although Rannock made mention of a painted image on one of the man’s arms.”

  “One like Lord Tarass’s?”

  “Lord Tarass’s arm holds a painted image?”

  “A crude blue arrow runs on the inside of his forearm, from the fold to the wrist. It can be seen clearly when his sleeve is rolled up or when he’s bare-chested. Naturally, I asked someone about it and was told that the arrow depicts one of the sacred ruin symbols of the heathen barbarians. It’s often worn on their shields when they go into battle. It supposedly represents victory. Maybe that’s why Lord Tarass is so victorious.”

  The image Nettle had painted of the arrow made Snow realize just how strongly Tarass had embraced his mother’s heritage. It made her wonder if the dead man had been the one Tarass was supposed to meet with and he didn’t want it known or perhaps he didn’t know the identity of the man.

  “Did Rannock detail the painted image for you?” Nettle asked.

  Snow thought it best she didn’t tell Nettle that Tarass forbid it.

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “I could detail it for you and describe the man,” Nettle offered.

  Her offer was far too tempting. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  Nettle laughed. “I’m always in trouble no matter what I do.” She lowered her voice. “We can be quick. We’ll be there and back before anyone knows we’re gone. And I’ll make sure to tell one or two of the servants here that we go to Runa since your wound pains you. We can stop there after seeing the bodies.”

  Snow couldn’t help but smile. “You remind me of my sister Sorrell. That would be just the thing she would do.”

  “And would you go with her?”

  “Absolutely,” Snow said and stood.

  Thaw roused himself from where he lay sleeping at Snow’s feet.

  “We go on an adventure, Thaw,” Snow said and the pup barked.

  Nettle was true to her word, letting a couple of the servants know they were going to see Runa should anyone ask. And she kept a quick pace as she kept hold of Snow’s arm and hurried her through the village, Thaw keeping close to Snow.

  When the pace slowed, Snow understood they neared the hut.

  “A body is being carried out,” Nettle whispered.

  “I think that would be Finn. He’s probably being prepared for the journey home.”

  “Bless his soul,” Nettle said with a bob of her head. “It’s the perfect time to sneak in. No one guards the hut.”

  “Then let’s hurry,” Snow said and looked down where a blur of gray sat against her leg. “You wait outside, Thaw, and let us know if anyone comes this way.” She had to tell him again when he went to enter the hut with them. �
�Guard, I won’t be long.”

  Nettle began detailing the dead man as soon as they entered. “He has height to him and is thick in size, long brown hair, fair features, nothing that distinguishes except for his nose. It’s crooked, probably broken a time or two. His garments are like those Lord Tarass wears when he dons his mother’s peoples’ dress.”

  “Is there a headdress of an animal laying nearby?”

  “No,” Nettle said after looking around.

  “The painted image,” Snow reminded.

  “Oh my goodness,” Nettle said. “The markings are all over his arm and up the side of his neck. I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought the markings would be crude, but they’re quite beautiful. A skillful hand certainly had to have done such an intricate design, though I have no idea what it all represents.”

  “We better go,” Snow said and Nettle agreed, taking her arm and leading her out of the hut.

  “Good Lord,” Nettle whispered as she directed Snow around something.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Lord Tarass is in the distance and he stopped when he saw you. He now heads this way.”

  “Are we close to Runa’s cottage?”

  “Not at all,” Nettle said.

  Fear trembled the young woman’s voice and Snow felt bad that she was the cause of it.

  “He’s looking straight at us,” Nettle warned.

  “Then we stay where we are and I will do the talking.”

  “What are you doing here in this area when I was told you were in pain and needed to see Runa?” Tarass demanded.

  “My fault.”

  Snow recognized the voice. It was Twilla.

  “I told them Runa was busy tending someone and offered them a hot brew in my cottage while they waited. Besides, Snow appeared too pale to continue walking. I figured after she rested a bit, I’d see that she got safely to Runa.”

  Tarass looked to Snow. She did look pale. “Your wound pains you?”

  She didn’t like to lie. Lies had a way of growing and suddenly erupting and he did sound concerned. So she went for the truth in a roundabout way. “The pain has eased.” And the pain had eased… since yesterday.