The Highlander's Secret(57)



“What about…?”

He glanced up at the rider and dismissed him with a wave. The messenger nodded and led his horse back around the keep to where the stables were located. Once he was gone, Eamon looked at Jain and said, “Alan and I will make sure that nae one finds ye. There are more than enough warriors to defend our village, and Clans MacDonnell and Grant send more reinforcements daily.”

“But I’m the one they’re looking for!” she insisted quietly. “None of the men should have to die on my account.”

He put his hand on Jain’s shoulder and looked deep into her eyes, saying, “The Vikings came back because it is their way. Whether it is yer kinsmen or not, I dinnae ken. However, I’ve heard many of them believe the glory of dying in battle is their only way to reach Valhalla. We must prepare fer battle, it’s the only way.”

She stared back at Eamon’s wise, steel grey eyes that had given her a sense of peace so many years before. Something about them held a fierce protectiveness over her, and she knew that he was right. “But—”

“Go see to yer husband.” Eamon told her. “Tell him what has happened and then send him here. I have much to discuss with him.”

She huffed in exasperation at Eamon’s command, turned on her heel and ran all the way to the smithy. On the way there she had to navigate through a growing crowd of people who were all curious about what happened. They came flooding out of their houses and shops and into the path where she was running. Her heart was pounding wildly as she approached, calling out to him, “Alan!”

Her husband stepped out of the shop and met her in the road outside. His blond hair was pulled back into a topknot and his hands were dark and covered in ash. Alan’s eyes grew wide when he saw her panicked expression. “Jain, what’s wrong?”

“The Vikings have returned,” she told him in a rush. “One of the scouts came back with news of theirs boats on the northern coast. Da asked me to fetch ye and bring ye to the keep.”

Alan exhaled through his nose and placed his hands upon her shoulders, saying, “I’m sorry that it has come to that, Jain. But we always knew that was a possibility.”

“I’m frightened,” she told him honestly while setting down her basket. “There are so many lives at risk…if I could just speak to them, we could avoid this entire battle.”

Alan sighed. “I dinnae ken. Perhaps ye’re right, but yer da’s word is law and he wants us to be prepared.”

“What if I rode out and spoke to them directly? Nae one else would have to be involved and it could solve everything.”

Alan’s face hardened and he tightened his grip on her hand. “Have ye lost yer senses completely? What do ye ken those Vikings would do to ye?”

“I’m the only one who speaks their language!” Jain insisted. “Doesn’t that make it worth the risk?”

The young blacksmith shook his head, releasing her and Bruce came walking out of the shop behind him. “I promised Eamon that I would keep ye safe. Let’s not have any more talk of this suicide mission, alright? I love ye, and I will not see ye put yerself in that kind of danger.”

Bruce crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning up against the doorframe. Jain wasn’t sure how much he overheard and nodded miserably. “Aye, husband. I understand.”

Alan’s expression softened. “Why dinnae ye go home and get some rest? I’ll head up to the keep and see what yer da has planned. I’ll let ye ken what he says when I get home fer supper.”

He kissed her on the forehead and watched Jain leave. She trudged down the road back to the village gate. Jain’s thoughts were in a fog as she tried to figure out what to do. None of them cared what she had to say; Alan and her father thought they could take care of it on their own.

Jain knew better. She knew how ruthless Viking warriors could be.

She walked mindlessly towards the house, feeling numb and completely helpless. That’s what Jain hated more than anything – not being able to do anything about it. With every step, a plan started forming in her mind and Jain set her jaw with determination. It was dangerous and Alan would be furious, but there was no other way.





Chapter Twenty-seven


She lay in bed that night with her eyes wide open while Alan slept peacefully beside her. His arm was wrapped around her waist with the stubble of his chin scratching beside her neck. When she heard his low and steady breathing, Jain carefully crept out from beneath the covers and slipped away from his warm embrace.

Jain dressed in the dark, with nothing but moonlight to illuminate the room as she secured the cloak around her shoulders. Just then, Alan rolled over in his sleep and Jain froze, afraid that she had woken him. When his gentle snoring continued, she exhaled in relief and knelt down to collect the pinnacular brooch that was hidden beneath a chair. With her bounty well in hand, she tiptoed from the room and cast one last glance towards her husband before shutting the door behind her.

Sleep well, my love.

Jain knew she had to move quickly, so she left the house at once and walked back into the stables. Her skirts swept across the grass and fallen leaves while she made it to the back of the house. Angus, their faithful chestnut stallion, was sleeping peacefully in his stall and she woke him with a pat on the neck. “Hello there, Angus. I’m sorry to wake ye, but we have one last ride to take together.”

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