Healing the Tormented Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Read online

  “Smashed, ye say? And the earth disturbed,” she said, and Ceana nodded. “They must have been lookin’ for it,” her final words directed more to herself than Ceana, whose puzzlement grew further.

  “Lookin’ for what, Grandmother? Will ye nae explain what is goin’ on to me? Are we in danger?” Ceana said, but her grandmother suddenly grabbed her by the arm, pulling her roughly towards the door at the back of the cottage.

  “There is nay time to lose, Ceana. We must hurry now, be quick, follow me,” Maighread said, pulling Ceana along with her.

  “Ye are hurtin’ me, Grandmother, where are we goin’?” Ceana said, as her grandmother hurried her out of the door and into the little yard at the back of the cottage.

  It was here they kept the chickens and a pig, whose slumber was disturbed by the opening of the back door and who began oinking loudly.

  “We are goin’ nay where, Ceana, ‘tis ye who must leave. Be quick now,” her grandmother said, and to her surprise, Ceana saw that her old horse Dewney was saddled and waiting for her.

  Ceana turned to her grandmother, taking her by the arms, the moonlight now illuminating her face.

  “Please, tell me what is goin’ on, Grandmother. Why are ye sendin’ me away?” Ceana said.

  “There is nae much time to explain, Ceana. To explain it all would take a lifetime, but there is a great danger comin’ and we must make ready for it, before it overwhelms us. I daenae know who desecrated the graves, but it was surely this that they were lookin’ for and we must keep it secret and safe,” her grandmother said, and from her pocket she drew a package, wrapped tightly in a bundle of cloths.

  “What is it?” Ceana asked, unrolling the cloths to reveal an ornately decorated key. It was heavier than a normal key, its length decorated with jewels and made of silver and gold, metal which caught the moonlight. From its handle there hung a chain of clasps, and Ceana could never recall seeing it before, though the way in which her grandmother talked of it surely meant it had great importance attached.

  Ceana gasped, and almost dropped it in her astonishment. But her grandmother pressed it into Ceana’s hands, placing the chain over her head.

  “Ye must keep it secret and safe at all costs, Ceana. Daenae let it fall into anyone else’s hands, however much ye trust them,” she whispered, tucking the key beneath Ceana’s tunic, as Ceana looked at her in astonishment.

  “But I cannae just leave ye grandmother, nae like this,” Ceana said, looking desperately at her grandmother, who placed her hands firmly upon Ceana’s shoulders.

  “Listen to me, Ceana. I ken this is a lot to understand, but there are forces at work against us, powers ye cannae yet understand. We are in danger, we have always been in danger, and this key must be kept safe at all costs. I have always tried to protect ye, to shelter ye from the outside world. But now that world is comin’ closer and the only way to protect us both is for ye to flee now,” she replied.

  “But where am I to go? Will I see you again?” Ceana asked, as tears welled up in her eyes.

  The key felt heavy around her neck, as though she were now shouldered with a burden too great to bear. She had no desire to leave the safety of the cottage, nor to leave behind her grandmother. The task ahead appeared overwhelming and she began to weep. But her grandmother held her firmly and spoke with firmness and determination.

  “Ye will see me again, Ceana. Flee far from here across the border and into Scotland. I have packed food and provisions for ye. Make for safety but daenae ever show the key to anyone, ye promise me?” her grandmother said, looking Ceana straight in the eyes, a forceful look upon her face.

  “Aye … I … I promise ye, Grandmother. But I still daenae understand why this has to happen and why so suddenly. Come with me, we will hide together from whatever threat this is ye speak of, for how am I to know of it if ye daenae explain it?” Ceana replied.

  “There is nay time to explain, Ceana. But know this, I love ye and that love is stronger than any force of evil in this world. Ye will prevail, I promise ye. Keep the key secret and keep it safe. Now go, ye must go, flee into the night,” her grandmother said, pushing her towards Dewney, who whinnied, as she climbed onto his back.

  The burden of responsibility now rested heavily upon Ceana, and she felt terrified for what was to come. So sudden had this been and so shocked by the events of the day was she that she felt quite overwhelmed. But there was something else within her too, a sense of loyalty and love for her grandmother, and a trust which overcame the doubts within her heart.

  Ceana loved her grandmother beyond anything else and she knew that her grandmother loved her, too, with that same love, a love which would never ask her to do anything other than what was right. She summoned all her courage, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead and looking down at her grandmother. She took a deep breath and nodded.

  “I daenae understand, Grandmother. But I will dae as ye ask and I will keep the key safe, I promise,” she said.

  Her grandmother nodded, reaching her hand up to Ceana and taking hold of hers. She squeezed it tightly, their eyes meeting, a look of grim resolution upon her face.

  “That is all I ask, Ceana. Know that I love ye and that everything I have done is because of that love. Ye must go now. Make all haste, we have already wasted too much time. Make for the road north, but keep to the forest paths until ye are certain nay one is followin’ ye,” her grandmother replied, glancing around her nervously.

  Ceana was about to reply when on the breeze there came the unmistakable sound of horse’s hooves, riding at speed in the distance. Her grandmother pricked up, looking anxiously up at Ceana.

  “I …” Ceana began, but her grandmother slapped the horse, causing him to rear and canter out of the yard.

  “Go, Ceana, I will distract them,” she called, and Dewney charged away with Ceana on his back. She cast a final desperate glance behind her at the woman she loved and now was forced to leave.

  The forest was dark, the moonlight failing to penetrate its dark canopy, with a sense of foreboding hanging over it. Ceana urged Dewney on through the trees, only pausing when she had ridden about a mile from the cottage.

  She was breathless, her heart racing, and her stomach sick with nausea. She took several deep breaths, the weight of the key around her neck seeming heavier than it surely was. She had so many questions and there was so much her grandmother had not told her.

  What was this key and why did it hold such importance? She had never seen it before in her life. Her grandmother had never made any mention of a key or secret. A key must have a keyhole, but Ceana had no inkling as to where such a keyhole might be found. It was surely an ornate door, perhaps in the palace of a king or noble.

  Or perhaps it was the key to a chest of treasure or fine jewels belonging to some grand lady. But then why would her grandmother possess such a thing? Certainly, there was no such lock within their humble cottage and Ceana had never seen such an ornate treasure before, let alone been tasked with its care.

  What was all this talk of keeping her safe and protecting her? From whom? Their life together had never been anything but quiet and peaceful, her grandmother’s simple life and gentle ways undisturbed by outsiders. Together, she and her grandmother were happy. Even at the age of twenty-one, Ceana had no desire to leave the safety of their cottage in the woods. The wider world seemed harsh and unforgiving, but she had always wondered what life would have been like had her parents lived and raised her in the village. It seemed that now, like it or not, she was about to find out.

  Ceana breathed heavily, glancing nervously around her as the trees seemed to loom menacingly overhead. Dewney whinnied and stomped his feet. She patted his mane, grateful for the comforting presence of the horse and the safety which he afforded. Had she been on foot then she would surely have been caught by whoever it was that she and her grandmother had heard riding towards the cottage.

  But who were they? A shudder of horror ran through her, as she wondered whether whoever it was had meant them harm. Her grandmother had seemed worried, scared even. Ceana had never seen that in her before, and it terrified her. For if her grandmother could be scared, then what hope did she have?

  As her breathing eased, Ceana looked around her nervously. The forest seemed darker than usual, more foreboding, as though at any moment someone or something would jump out upon her. It no longer felt like home, but a place of danger with threats lurking on every side. She patted Dewney’s mane, turning the horse along the trail away from her grandmother’s cottage and towards the north.

  “Come now, Dewney. We must get away,” she said, urging him to canter.

  Ceana crossed the Scottish border just as dawn was breaking over the hills beyond. It was a wild and lonely landscape, quite different from the forests which lay behind her. Here, heathers stretched endlessly before her, the undulating hills scattered with the occasional solitary tree, sparse and barren in comparison to the lush farmland of the south.

  It had a rugged beauty to it, the air fresh and clear, as a gentle breeze blew in from the west. Far off, she could just make out the high mountains which lay to the north, their craggy peaks appearing foreboding, against the shimmering purple heather around her.

  She had ridden through the night, and was now some fifteen miles or so from her grandmother’s cottage. It may have seemed a short distance, but to Ceana this was a new and unfamiliar world, one in which she had no idea whether danger or threat lay close. She knew nothing of Scotland, only that her grandmother had lived there once, choosing for reasons of her own, to move south of the border and find her home amongst the English.

  These were wild places, populated by warring clans and unruly men, whose only law was the sword and the need to survive. Ceana reined Dewney in, reaching into the saddle bag and drawing out a loaf of bread. Her grandmother had packed ample provisions for several days and she ate hungrily, a wave of exhaustion and fatigue passing over her. She patted the horse’s mane as she ate, glancing warily around her lest she not be alone.

  “This is a fine thing and make nay mistake, Dewney,” she said, sighing to herself.

  The key was feeling heavier around her neck and she wondered about stowing it into her saddle bag. But her grandmother had been adamant that it must always remain with her. Though she did not understand its purpose, or why such an object should have thrown them into such chaos and danger, Ceana knew that her grandmother would never have burdened her in such a way had it not been entirely necessary and for some greater purpose than she could understand.

  But where to go now? The road ahead wound its way off into the hills beyond. Ceana knew that it would eventually lead across the lowlands and on towards Edinburgh. But Ceana had no money, and no sense of what she might do if she even managed to arrive there.

  Right now, Ceana was exhausted. She had not slept since the night before last and she knew that she needed to sleep if she was to think out a plan and keep the key safe as her grandmother had instructed.

  I must rest, else I shall have nay resolve for anythin’ more. I am too tired to go on now.

  Sighing to herself, Ceana led Dewney to a tree on the edge of the copse, tethering him up and patting his nose.

  “There we are, Dewney. I will bring ye some water from the stream over yonder and see here, me grandmother has packed ye some oats. Ye are a good horse,” she said, patting him on the nose.

  “And who is this we have here, then?” a voice came from the trees behind her.

  Ceana was startled, spinning around in horror, as she came face-to-face with a group of men, who had been sitting amongst the trees. They were soldiers of a sort, with swords slung at their sides and some insignia or other emblazoned on their tunics. They were looking at her with interest, and the leader, the one who had spoken, had a smile on his face, though one which Ceana did not care for at all.

  “I am about me own business,” she replied. “I did nae realize there was anyone here. I merely wished to rest in the trees a while. I have had a long ride, but I shall find another place. I am sorry to have disturbed ye,” and she turned to untether Dewney, trying not to let the fear sound in her voice.

  “Now, wait there just a moment, lass. Ye are goin’ nay where, nae until ye have given us an explanation of who ye are and where ‘tis ye are headin’ to in such a hurry,” he replied, and the others laughed.

  “Aye, ‘tis rare we meet a bonnie lass like ye out on the road all alone. Where have ye come from? Where are ye goin’ to?” another of them asked, standing up and dusting himself down, before approaching her.

  Ceana swallowed hard, backing away towards Dewney, as the man circled her with interest.

  “Me … me business is me own,” she replied, “and … and who are ye if ye wish to ken so much about me?”

  “We are soldiers loyal to the Laird of Mhaol Chalium and he, Raghnall MacCramhain, doesnae take kindly to strangers on the road north,” the first soldier replied, he too circling Ceana with interest.

  The second soldier began rummaging through her saddle bags, taking out food and blankets, examining them with interest. Ceana was thankful she had not stowed the key inside them and she watched nervously, wondering what would happen next.

  “I wish only to be left alone. I am nay threat to ye or yer Laird. Me business is me own and I would keep me own counsel and allow ye to keep yers,” she said, as the soldier looked at her with a puzzled expression. Ceana had heard tell of such men, the Lairds of the borders. The war mongers of the north, men who delighted in warfare and violence and for whom the rule of the sword was law. Her grandmother had told her tales of such deeds and of how the clans had fought one another for centuries. But she had never heard of Mhaol Chalium nor of Raghnall MacCramhain

  “Tis ill-advised for a lass to take this road alone. Danger lurks on every side. Ye could be set upon English soldiers on the wrong side of the border, or clansmen with dark hearts and wicked intentions. ‘Tis nae safe for a lass,” he replied, and once more the others laughed.

  “And I suppose ye are nae such men?” she asked, and he shook his head and smiled.

  “Ye will have to trust us,” he replied, “ye have very little choice but to,” and he smiled at her.

  “I … I have business to see to. I … I have come from England to … to visit relatives. I make for Edinburgh and they shall worry if I daenae arrive safely,” Ceana replied, trying desperately to find a reason to leave the copse and ride north away from these men who seemed so intent upon stalling her.

  “Ye cannae, the Laird doesnae allow such things, and we would be neglectin’ our duty if we allowed ye to pass. Though perhaps …” he said, turning to the others and smiling, “ye may have something to offer us. If ye are travellin’ to Edinburgh then surely ye have money, perhaps even jewelry. We are poor soldiers and anythin’ that ye can give us would be welcome,” and he caught hold of her arm.

  Ceana struggled, but his grip was tight and he pulled her close towards him, his face turning suddenly menacing.

  “I … I have nothin’ of worth to give ye, please, just let me go,” she replied, but the soldier shook his head, and pulled her close towards him.

  “Then it seems that ye will be comin’ along to meet the Laird then, lass. Come now men, this lass is comin’ with us. We cannae sit here all day, besides, ‘tis too dangerous for ye to continue along the road. A lass like ye all alone, ridin’ this lonely way. If ‘tis nae us who takes ye then it shall surely be somethin’ much worse. Ye will nae be harmed but if ye cannae pay yer way then ‘tis to the Laird ye must pay a visit,” he said, laughing, as the soldiers gathered up their weapons and made ready to leave.

  There was no point in struggling, for she could never hope to outrun ten well-armed men. Instead, she was taken arm in arm by two of them, Dewney led behind her. Their horses were tethered some distance away below a ridge, and had she been more alert to her surroundings, Ceana may have seen them from the track before her capture. As it was, she now found her hands tied and she was slung roughly over one of the horses, the lead soldier ordering their immediate departure.

  “We will make Mhaol Chalium by breakfast if we ride hard, men,” he called out, mounting himself on the horse next to the one Ceana was slung across.

  “What about my horse? What about Dewney?” she cried, but the man just laughed.

  “Daenae worry about yer horse, lass. He is here. The Laird can always use a new horse in his stables. If I were ye, I would worry for yerself, nae for yer horse,” the soldier replied.

  Chapter 3

  They were heading north, moving swiftly along the road and Ceana could recognize nothing of the countryside they were now passing through. It may as well have been the other side of the world, so foreign and remote did it feel. They passed over the heathers and splashed through gushing streams, the road rising gradually higher, until eventually she could see the whole border country spread out before her.