Highlander Enchanted(66)

More seillie joined the others, along with some of the MacDonald’s. A smile touched her features. He understood why he was so fiercely dedicated to protecting the people who treasured song, dance and peace.

Two shapes on horseback broke away from the valley and headed towards her. She recognized the gaunt, stooped shape of Father Henry long before she saw his wrinkled features. He appeared more haggard than usual and clutched a bulky satchel to his side. With him was Siobhan, the woman meant to become Cade’s wife.

“Douglas says we travel to the ocean in the morning,” the elderly priest told her. “Many ‘ave no’ rested or eaten in a day.”

“Very well,” Isabel replied and glanced at Siobhan. Uncertain what to expect after usurping the woman’s position, she was grateful to see the pretty Macdonald woman smiling. “How is your father?” she asked.

“Verra well,” was Siobhan’s response. “Cured of all that ails him and prepared to defend his people.” She snorted and shook her head. “Willna sit down and let the men fight or hunt or carry the sword he canna lift.”

Isabel smiled, recalling how she had liked Laird MacDonald during their brief encounters.

“Ye seillie can hunt.” Siobhan reached out to tap Father Henry’s arm.

“You … know?” Isabel asked, eyes widening.

“Yea, we’ve ken fer some time. My father was a friend o’Laird MacLachlainn the elder. There are some secrets we doona speak of, but the clans who lived nearest the seillie lands always ken. Father always says the seillie possessed these lands long before man and would long after man. He said a friend of the seillie is always safe.”

“Let us pray this is true,” Isabel murmured, eyes on the refugees in the forest.

Siobhan’s smile was open and warm. Until that moment, Isabel had never really considered what it meant to leave Saxony with no hope of returning if she did survive the Highlands. Saxony had been her home since birth, and she was the sole heir to its lands. She had believed she would never leave after John did not return from the Crusades.

Yet she was here. Her new clan, her new husband, had no home, and neither did she.

For the first time since reaching the Highlands, she also began to realize she was not helpless, either. Cade had been right. She held the favor – however fleeting – of two kings. If she feared using her influence, no one in the valley below was going to live long past sighting Laird Duncan’s army.

“Lady Isabel?” the priest peered at her. “Are you well?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said. “Cade sent a messenger to the King John, did he not?”

“Yea.”

“We must send another. Bring me our two ablest riders and the best horses among the clans.”

Siobhan and the priest glanced at one another. “I will go now,” Siobhan said and turned to leave.

“Fatima.” Isabel twisted in the saddle. “Inform my brother I am in need of him.”

Fatima dipped her head and turned her horse, galloping in the direction John had gone.

“What d’ye plan?” Father Adam asked.

“I am the daughter of a king. I intend to behave in a manner keeping with this.”

Father Adam smiled. “May I ask ye which king?”

She eyed him.

“I imparted t’Cade ye had two fathers. I didna tell him ye claimed two mothers in yer writs as well,” he said. “Didna want him t’ think ye were English.” He laughed. “But ‘tis beyond my understanding how this came to be.”

“My mother had a sister, a twin,” Isabel said slowly. “My father, the Baron of Saxony, imparted the truth to me before his death. One of Laird MacCosse’s daughters was taken at birth to England, after the death of his beloved wife, for he feared possessing no male heir, and no grown daughter to marry off to another clan for protection, would endanger his lands. She found her way into the English court as a courtier. My mother did as well, became a courtier in the Scottish court, where she was favored by the Scottish king for her beauty. I was born of one of them, after she wed the Baron of Saxony, and the other died in childbirth around the same time. My mother died when I was young, but she claimed my true father to be the Scottish king, and my Saxony father believed her. But, before he flung himself to his death, he told me he was uncertain of this truth, as he had met both women and did not know one from the other.”

“Scandalous,” Father Adam breathed, features glowing. “Ye doona ken yer real father.”

“The Highlands call to me. I feel I belong here.”

“Then ‘tis so. Ye can claim King John as yer father,” he said wisely. “This is how ye came by two writs granting ye the husband of yer choice.”

“Yes,” she said. “You must never reveal this secret. ‘Tis treasonous.”

“I shall not.” He rested his hand over his heart. “I have burnt the English contract. But ye must tell Cade.”

“If he survives, I will gladly do so.” Worry left it hard to breath when her chest was so tight. “My father advised me to seek the truth of my birth and to choose the man I wished to wed. I had thought this man was Richard, whom he seemed to favor, so I chose him when I appealed to the English King. When granted an audience with the Scottish king, I chose the Highland warrior who had slain my brother, because I blamed him for the loss of my beloved brother and father.” Her eyes misted over. “And because I could not live in Saxony knowing I did not belong.”