Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends, Book 1) (32 page)

BOOK: Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends, Book 1)
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Another loud sob broke loose. My heart thudded heavy in my chest, deep ache burning a gaping hole into my ribcage. I couldn’t imagine
any
time where I existed and Iain didn’t. His convoluted explanation of time not being linear was no comfort in my perception-skewed reality, especially since I only had access to Iain under rules I didn’t understand.

The powers at work had made their decision, casting me back to an ancient
Scotland. I wiped my face dry with the back of my sleeve and stood as I took stock of my situation. Velloc hadn’t expected me back for another five days, and we hadn’t discussed his plans in the meantime. Had he gone back to his village? Or had he remained with Drust and the box?

I wished for the latter, not relishing the idea of a long ride on horseback to find him again. The predawn hour under a moonless sky made finding the structure where we’d last been with Drust a blind adventure. However, I persisted and found the dwelling, sliding my hands along the roughhewn stones to locate the entrance without the aid of torchlight.

I stepped inside further darkness and decided a torch would’ve been a good idea. I hoped no other occupants slept in the bed besides Velloc. Weary apathy made me proceed without clear judgment as I removed my gown and chemise. I took a careful step, and my toes touched the edge of the pallet.

I gasped as an arm crushed around my ribcage. A hand encircled my throat, and fear shuddered through me. The bare skin of my assailant pressed against my naked backside. I swallowed, trying to calm my racing heart.

“Velloc?” I coughed, after forcing the word past the grip on my esophagus.

The choking hold eased. “
Isobel,
” Velloc whispered.

Strong arms spun me around, crushing me in his embrace. I slid my hands around his waist, holding him tight. I clung tightly to the solid evidence that, if I could count on nothing else in my twisted existence, at least I had a beloved constant in each world.

My only hope, wrapped in a pervasive layer of fear, was that I hadn’t made Velloc’s world my only world and inadvertently thrust those I loved—in the other—into harm’s way.

 

 

 

CHAPTER Thirty-one

 

 

 

 

Highlands of
Scotland—First Century AD

 

Stuck in the past in one respect didn’t mean I intended to remain there in another. After an entire day of attempting to return with a box gone completely lifeless, I accepted that a return may no longer be possible. Events unfolding between the tribes and the invading Romans accelerated a need to abandon futility and join reality. The Pict game plan about the impending war had been altered, and I either joined in the fight or remained an uninvolved observer.

My scarlet gown, chemise, and leather slippers had been neatly folded into a pile and placed on the floor in the back of the small shrine. I rested a hand on the cold relic responsible for all the upheaval in my life. In remembrance, I focused on all the joy I’d had: smiles and laughter, nights of incredible pleasure, and a mating ceremony uniting a clan with its destined laird and lady were images I burned into my mind.

I whispered, somehow certain if anyone on any plane of existence listened it would be heard, “Keep them safe. Bring Iain back to them.” Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill over. On a deep breath, I reined in my overwhelming emotions. “And if anyone at all can hear me, please, let me go back.”

My selfish plea faded on a cutting burst of wind. I pulled the fur tighter around my body, nodding once, satisfied no more could be done with simple wishes cast about in an era when life and death hung heavy in the air.

The weight of a gentle hand landing on my shoulder reminded me of the urgency of our impending departure. I reached up, covering Velloc’s hand in mine.

“I’m ready.” I turned away from my one link to everything, resolving to return and try again.

I stepped into the gray day. A bitter-cold storm lashed her wrath onto a nation racing toward their enemy with a vengeance. The sea of warriors had made a mass exodus from north to south, collecting every able-bodied man along the way.

Velloc mounted his stallion as I jumped onto
Malibu. I regarded the fearsome sight of my mate—broad shoulders and flowing black hair, additional woad tattoos marking his body and face, and those fierce, dark eyes. Velloc surveyed his tribe. Hundreds were mounted on horseback, but a handful rode in horse-drawn chariots.

From what Velloc had shared with me, most of Drust’s people had left over the course of the last few days, establishing themselves in the woodlands and marshes along the perimeter of the shoreline. The infiltration enabled us to both keep a watchful eye on the Romans and prepare to attack as our influx of warriors continued.

Velloc raised his right arm overhead. “
Caereni!
We will show the Romans how they underestimate the people they’ve made their enemy.” Velloc yelled over a whipping wind, but all heard. Animal cries and shouts replied. Velloc kicked his horse and charged ahead. We bolted forward, following a great leader to meet the fight that had been brought to our doorstep.

Thundering hooves drowned out the overhead storm, clods of earth flying up at every strike. Adrenaline pumped hot through my veins as excitement charged the atmosphere. Images of the impending battle teased my thoughts as raw muscle flexed in fluid motion beneath me.

Our tribe of men galloped southward for nearly an hour. Gradually our progress slowed, hindered by the thickening forest. We wove through trees and scrub. I cut to the left, urging Malibu forward until we joined Velloc near the front of our group. He eased up on his reins and edged closer, gazing at me with penetrating eyes.

“This is the battle, then,” I said. “You’re taking the fight to the Romans before the harvest.”

He nodded once. “No enemy will claim victory over a people who refuse to give up the land. They are uninvited, making themselves comfortable in our home.” He flashed a wicked smile. “We will make it very
uncomfortable
.”

I laughed. “If you plan half the attack I witnessed on your scouting mission, I’ve no doubt they’ll think twice about crashing the party.”

Velloc stared at me until his lips pressed into a thin line, his shoulders shaking with laughter. I’d adapted the phrase to his dialect, but nothing escaped his quick wit. I laughed with him, enjoying the miniscule time we had to rebond before more serious matters took away the opportunity.

We slowed our mounts to a walk, and the group continued to pass us a few yards to our right.

“You miss your Iain?” Velloc asked.

I glanced over. Velloc faced forward, negotiating his horse through a rocky stream. Mixing the two worlds in my head messed with my mind and emotions. I’d endeavored to keep the two separate. When one man asked about the other, my struggle to maintain composure amplified tenfold. Common sense dictated they know as little about each other as possible. Each of our emotional needs, however, took precedence over steadfast rules and assumptions. A part of me yearned to talk about the difficulties plaguing me, but I had no one to talk about them with other than my men. Velloc needed to know how I felt and where he stood. And he
had
asked.

“I do miss him.” I took a shaky breath. “He left to fight a smaller battle. Right before I left, the enemy captured him.” The words choked me, my throat cramping on a held sob.

Velloc stopped and pivoted his horse. Malibu jolted to a halt with a whinny. “Iain is chieftain of your tribe?”

“Yes.” I frowned. “What does that mean, Velloc? What will they do to him?”

He stared hard at me. “They will keep him alive as long as they need him.”

I nodded. So many things went unsaid with Velloc’s statement, and my fear running rampant refused to clarify them. Alive had so many variations. What would become of Iain when they no longer found him useful? Velloc had satisfied his curiosity about my state of mind, and I had no desire to prolong my pain. I negotiated
Malibu around him, following the others disappearing into the forest.

Velloc advanced on my mare so fast, I had no time to process the movement before I found myself swept onto the ground. A strong embrace kept me upright as my head spun.

He buried his face into my hair. “Isobel,” he whispered.

The soothing coo of my name feathered over my ear like warm sunshine on a bitter morning. I exhaled, melting into his arms. Tears cascaded down my face, unchecked. I hurt. In my denial, in my perseverance, and in the rush of activity around me, I hadn’t allowed myself to grieve for the loss. The brave man that held me saw my need, forcing me to lean on him.

So many things had been stolen from me: a modern life with dreams I’d had since childhood, a husband and clan I’d grown to love, and the free will to decide what I wanted my life to become. But dwelling on problems had seemed unproductive and immaterial in light of the life and death battles Velloc’s warriors and their people dealt with on a daily basis.

Velloc tightened his embrace. “Why did you come back early? Because they’d taken him?”

Explanations of liquid walls with beaming lights transporting me through layered dimensions fell beyond the scope of the energy I possessed, so I stuck with the simplest explanation. “I . . .”

I faltered in getting the right words out of my head. How do you streamline the fantastical? Velloc already knew I’d time traveled and had come from the future. One more stretch of his imagination would allow him to relate to me on my level. To have Velloc know my successes and failures in the magick that surrounded me would set free the part of me I’d locked up tight out of fear.

“I’d been charged with keeping the clan safe. Iain believed I could. A large wall, very much like the box, transports not only me through time, but also . . . an entire village.”

I paused as he pulled back. His attentive eyes gazed down at me, and I knew he understood.

“When I placed my hand on the wall, exactly as Iain instructed, the transfer began, but I hadn’t braced my feet before touching the surface. I hadn’t expected its power to make me dizzy, and in an attempt not to fall, I dropped my other hand on the wall also. The power it contained grabbed hold of me and threw me back to you.”

A sob tore free as emotion lanced a fresh wound into my heart.

“I was supposed to make them safe!” My anguish-laced words were barely coherent as I buried my face into his chest.

Velloc eased away, tipping a finger under my chin. I blinked away tears, clearing my vision. His eyes searched mine. Gentle, callused fingers brushed against my temple as he tucked windblown locks of hair behind my ear.

“You’re not the only one responsible for the safety of your tribe. Nor am I for mine. They chose us to lead them. We accepted, aware of our strengths and weaknesses. We know we can’t be everything.
They
know we cannot. If we falter, another person replaces us, protecting them.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath, clearing my head. In the master plan of things, I couldn’t be certain fate hadn’t
caused
my misstep. Even if carelessness caused my fumble, being haunted with misery about the possible consequences was pointless.

As I forgave myself, I realized Velloc had highlighted something I’d forgotten. Brigid stood behind me as more than a figurative backup. My mind latched onto the thought: she’d done the right thing in my stead.

The knowledge strengthened me. “
Someone
did protect them.”

Velloc kissed the top of my head as I vowed to be present for him in every way. My survival, and therefore his, depended upon my clarity in every moment.

I shifted and smiled up at the man who supported me in so many ways simply by being true to himself. A rugged, fearless warrior on the outside protected the heart of a man who loved with conviction without reservation or prejudice. I tightened my arms around him, pulling him close, his physical comfort magnifying the warmth he’d spread inside me with his words. The minutes he held me in silence felt like a precious eternity.

I slid my hands up his muscular back. “Come, let’s join them. Lead your tribe to victory.”

Velloc devastated me with a rare smile of pride. Joy lit up a darkly handsome face worn by the elements in a hard life fully lived. He hooked his arm around me, tugging me toward our horses. I laughed as his contagious happiness surrounded me. Amid a march toward the most stressful of events, the man had lifted my spirits. I’d thought I couldn’t fall any harder for Velloc. I’d been wrong.

Buoyant on his generous spirit, I spun in front, leaned up, and kissed the smile off his face. He enfolded me in his arms as we explored each other’s mouths. My hands skimmed up his chest and locked around his neck. He pressed forward, kissing my breath away.

Velloc reluctantly tore his lips from my mouth, panting as I gulped for air. He dropped his forehead, resting it on mine. We needed to rejoin the men. Safety among numbers and diminishing daylight made catching up with his tribe imperative. He growled, releasing his possessive hold, and a whimper left my lips as we separated, the moment ending.

Velloc tugged me forward by the hand. We mounted our horses and raced southeast,
Malibu pacing behind his stallion. He veered left, choosing a sparsely wooded path to make up lost time. We pushed the animals hard until darkness hampered the ability to navigate with speed. As we slowed to a walk, I questioned whether we’d be able to find the others in the obscuring night.

Sounds filtered through to us on the wind: a gentle snort, then another. We’d found someone’s camp for the night. Velloc shot up an open hand, and I silently reined in
Malibu. He scouted ahead, disappearing, while I waited with bated breath in the silent darkness.

Velloc returned and led us toward a ridge. The horses climbed at our gentle urging, picking their way to the top. Rocks tumbled down the steep incline during our painstaking ascent. We passed a group of untethered horses, but I saw not one man.

Seeing and feeling had become two very different things for me, however. My Pict training kicked into high gear as I sensed the environment. A large amount of consciousness weighed heavy in the space around us, bordering the tree line, and into the forest. Before reaching the peak of the ridgeline, Velloc turned us into the heavier woods. Within seconds, we were surrounded.

BOOK: Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends, Book 1)
4.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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