A Highland Pearl (Highland Treasures Book 1) (18 page)

“Would you rather ride sitting atop the tents in the cart? ‘Twould
be more comfortable.”

Maidie shook her head. “Nae. I’ll ride close to Sven.”

A smile crossed the handsome face. “Then you’ll be riding
close to me. Sven asked to ride on my horse this day.”

Maidie didn’t raise her eyes. Gavin caught her chin, lifting
her face so her eyes met his. “You will ride close to me.” Maidie didn’t
answer, only looked into the eyes almost black with emotion. “Just say the word,
and I’ll find another way to rescue Andrew. I have enough men to besiege the
castle and demand his release.” His mouth moved closer to hers.

She stared at his slightly parted lips. “Nae. I wanna risk his
life.”

“You’re tearing me apart, Maidie. I canna let you go.” His
voice grew husky, and she felt the power of his arms as they pulled her toward
him.

Maidie made an attempt to leave his embrace, but he held
tightly. She turned her head to avoid the lips in pursuit of hers. He found her
mouth and pressed an ardent kiss on her lips. She tried not to respond, but the
passion of his mouth on hers weakened her knees and her resolve. Her hands
clutched at his shoulders then reached around the thick neck. A vision of
Andrew flashed through her mind.

Quickly, she pulled away from Gavin’s embrace. How could she
let herself do this? She did not love Gavin, and now he would think she cared.
Maidie realized her heart belonged to the one she could never lay claim upon.
One she would never be able to hold and caress and kiss with the passion like
she had kissed his brother.

Sven called from the tent door, “Mam, I have your water.”

Gavin released her, leaving the tent without a word. Sven
entered and handed Maidie the skin of water. She drank thirstily, handed the
skin back to her son, and gathered up her meager belongings. The men needed to
take down the tent and load it upon the cart for the day’s journey. Maidie’s
horse stood saddled and tied to a tree beside the tent. Gavin mounted his large
warhors. Erskin lifted Sven to sit on the pillow in front of the tanist’s
saddle. Gavin reached for the reins, encompassing her little son with his large
arms. Sven would be safe indeed.

White mist boiled from the ground, keeping the morning sun
from sharing its warmth on the company of warriors. As they passed near
villages, soldiers ahorse and afoot joined the ranks, until Maidie felt sure
Gavin had two hundred men in his
sluagh
.
Mayhap he had plans to besiege the castle anyway. Surely, he
would not put Andrew’s life at such great risk as to try and take the castle by
force while the chief was still the enemy’s hostage. Maidie regretted yielding
to Gavin’s kiss and showing any sign of agreeing to his offer. His ego may
interpret her yielding as more than a kiss.

A hawk’s call pierced the air from somewhere overhead and
Maidie looked up. She could not see the bird for the heavy mist. A sudden chill
filled her with dread and remorse.
Andrew,
oh Andrew.
Lord, please dinna let me be the cause of his undoing.

Chapter Fifteen

The long day of riding finally ended
and the camps set up in a small clearing beside a swiftly running burn. The
tall snow-covered peak of Ben Wyvis could be seen in a distance. Castle Lach
demanded a beautiful view of the mountain from it’s eastern front. Maidie
remembered visiting the castle with her father and mother when she was a young
lass before her mother’s death. She remembered standing in awe at a small
window in the third floor apartment of Lady MacKenzie and gazing at the
beautiful mountain. The lovely lady died giving birth to her third daughter,
not long after their visit. Maidie heard Laird MacKenzie remarried and had a
son. His second wife died of a fever about the same time Maidie’s mother died,
and he had not remarried.

Maidie again, took her food inside the tent. Sven sat beside
the fire with the warriors. She did not hear Gavin’s voice among the others and
assumed he was out with his men. She overheard one in conversation say the
tanist liked to visit the camps rallying the men on the eve before a battle.
Relief came like the gentle burn flowing through a glen, when Maidie realized
she would not have to face Gavin this night, and hopefully, next morn. She had
little strength left in her fatigued body to fight his amorous advances.

After eating the food Erskin brought to her, she undressed
down to her under garments and made ready for bed. She snuggled under the fur
robe, trying to warm her chilled body and waited for Sven. The lovely sound of
a flute somewhere in the distance floated through the night air. A lone singer
began with the words to a Gaelic ballad in praise of a Munro chief.

Mo Rothach deas mìleante
thu.

Mo sheabhag fhìorghland
uasal thu.

Mac an Rothaich cruaidh
cinnteach thu.

My handsome Clan Munro warrior are you.

My truly pure and noble falcon are you.

My Munro tough and sure are you.

Maidie’s mind filled with thoughts of Andrew while she
listened to the haunting melody. Her heart cried for him. Was he well? She
imagined scenes of the chief being tortured with his terrible wound opening to
spill the contents of his belly on the dungeon floor. Maidie rose to her knees
on the cold canvas floor of the tent. Her body shivered and trembled as she
grasped the small crucifix around her neck. “
Lord, please take care of Andrew. Keep him safe. Deliver him from the
hands of his captors. Return him to the safe keeping of his clansmen. If a
battle is to be fought on the morrow, keep these warriors under Your great
protection. I love Andrew, but I desire his freedom and well-being above all
else.”

Sven entered the tent while Maidie knelt in prayer. He hurriedly
went to her, wrapping loving arms about her shoulders. “Mam, you’re cold and
trembling. Go back to bed.”

Maidie patted Sven’s arm. “Aye. I’m cold, but I must pray for
these brave men and the chief.”

“The Lord will hear your prayers if you’re under the fur
instead of here in the cold.” Like a little man, Sven pulled the fur robe back,
helped Maidie recline underneath, and then pulled it over her cold body. He
kissed her forehead.

“What would I do without you, Sven?” she asked with a
weariness invading her body so that moving the smallest muscle became
difficult.

“I’ll always take care of you, Mam.” Sven removed his outer
garments and climbed beneath the fur with her.

Maidie wrapped loving arms around his small shoulders and
closed her eyes to dream of Andrew.

***

After five days of naught but stale
water, fat rotten meat, and molded bread, Andrew and Colin were so covered with
filth and mire they could hardly stand themselves or each other. For the first
three days of their confinement, the warriors trained as best they could
without weapons. Andrew taught Colin moves in sword fighting that had saved his
life on occasion. They engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Colin could have bested
Andrew several times, but held back because of his wound and loss of strength.
Now, both lacked energy to workout or train. Colin talked of his mother and father.
He told Andrew stories about his family and about the Lord.

On the fifth evening of their imprisonment, while daylight
turned to gloaming, and Andrew felt the fatigue caused by poor food, a parched
throat, and weakness from the bleeding wound, the two men sat with their backs
to the cold slimy wall.

Colin turned to Andrew and said,
 
“My da and mither worked from sunup to
sundown, through the gloaming most days until they could see nae more. Da
plowed the runrigs soon as the snow melted and the ground softened enough for
the plow so the wheat and oats could be planted early. He would be near
exhaustion and fall into bed without eating some nights. Mither worried for him
then. She would leave his food in the kettle on a bank of coals. In the night
when he felt more rested, he would get up and eat a little. The next day, he
did the same.”

Andrew turned to stare at the lad. Colin must be trying to
take his mind off the misery both of them felt, so he encouraged the
gille’s
tale. “Your da worked hard, I remember that about him. He always paid his rents
on time with never a complaint.”

Colin smiled. “Aye, he was that. A hard worker he was. My
mither worked hard also. Mither spent a lot of time carrying water from the
burn for drinking, cooking, and a little washing, but we didn’t waste much with
bathing. We washed our bodies in the cold burn on occasion and she washed our
few clothes there when ‘twas no’ frozen.

“Our food was mostly turnip or cabbage bree with some oatcakes
and honey, if we could find a honey tree, and bannocks, to be sure. Da could
no’ afford to kill a sheep with the wool needed to pay rents. We had only one
milk cow, and when she got old, Da traded her for a young heifer. It took a
couple of years to breed the heifer and wait for a calf before we had milk to
drink again. We drank
leann fraoich
and water.”

“I’d give my right arm for a drink of
leann fraoich
right now,” Andrew interjected, thinking of the mug of heather ale he drank
with Maidie Munro.

Colin turned to look at him with bloodshot eyes. “Dinna say
such a thing, M’Laird. Your right arm is too valuable to give for a drink of
leann
fraoich
.”

“I jest, Colin. Dinna you ken I jest?” The
gille
hung
his head. Andrew felt remorse for taking such a harsh tone. “Go on with your
story. I take pleasure in hearing of your life. ‘Twas so different from mine,
but your family seems to have been a loving one.”

The
gille
smiled then, “Aye, ‘twas a loving family. We
ha’ naught but one another and that was enough. We ha’ songs in our hearts and
sang most times while working.”

“’Twould be nice to hear those songs. If we ever get out of
here, Colin, I want you to take me to one of those
luadhadh,
waulking of cloth,
so I can enjoy
the songs of the lasses.” Andrew had heard the village women singing, but had
never taken time to listen to their music.

Colin shook his head. “’Twill be my pleasure, M’Laird.”

Colin’s story made Andrew forget his misery for a short while.
He appreciated for the first time, the hard life of the people living on the Munro
estates. He had been among them, but never as one of them, only as the son of
their chief and now the chief. He saw what they allowed him to see, and never
had a clear picture of what their lives were really like, until Colin told him.
Andrew realized he had never really talked to his
gille
. The lad was
knowledgeable about many things. Andrew learned much about the daily life of
his villagers and crofters. Some of their conditions needed improvement. He
determined to right them when he left the vile dungeon of his enemy.

Andrew dreamed of roses more than once. His feverish mind saw
Maidie dressed in white with her golden locks falling around creamy shoulders.
She smiled at him and ran her fingers through his hair. She smelled of roses.
He wished for her hands to wash his hair with sweet smelling soap. He longed to
hold her, wrapping his arms around her lithe body, and kissing her full, red
lips until she gasped for breath. And then he thought of Gavin. His brother was
probably holding the lass and whispering sweet words of passion into her ear.
Was Gavin meeting the demands of the MacKenzie?

Andrew sat against the slimy wall, wishing he knew how to
pray. He turned to Colin. “Lad, I want you to teach me to pray.”

Colin looked into Andrews eyes. A smile crossed the
gille’s
dirt-streaked face. “Aye, M’Laird.
Praying is no’ difficult, but first you must make peace with the Lord.”

“How do I make peace with a God I’ve held in disdain all my
life?”

“’Tis no’ hard, just ask His forgiveness and accept the
sacrifice His Son made for you.”

“You mean dying on the cross in my place?”

“Aye. Just like I told you. He died so you might live. You
must believe in God’s Son.”

“Nae, lad. I think my heart’s too black. The Lord dinna want
someone like me in His heaven.”

“Nae heart is too black for God. All you must do is believe in
His power to wash your heart with the blood of Jesus and make it pure.”

Andrew could not speak, but only look at the lad sitting next
to him. He realized the bonny lass in his dream spoke of a pure heart. “Only
one with a pure heart,” she said, “may touch the pearl.” The pearl holds life.
If he recalled correctly, the name, Maidie, meant Pearl. He could not have
Maidie while carrying a black heart. The pearl had given back his physical life
with her kind healing hands, now she called him to believe to give him
spiritual life as well.

The chief of Clan Munro, Thirteenth Baron of Fàrdach, bowed
his head in the fusty black cell and asked the Lord to cleanse his black heart,
making it pure with the blood of His Son. Tears formed in the chief’s eyes,
spilling over to streak the dirt on his cheeks. He swiped a large hand across
his face. He had not shed tears in many years, not since his mother died. Colin
placed a hand on Andrew’s back and patted him like a father comforting his son.
Love for the lad grew in Andrew’s heart at that moment. A bond formed between
the two that could not be explained. They sat in quietness. Colin fingered his
crucifix and prayed. Andrew prayed with a newfound assurance his prayers were
being heard.

The clanging of keys and squeaking of the large metal dungeon
door brought the men to awareness. The light of torches threw sinister shadows
along the cell wall. They both stood, waiting for the usual evening meal. The
thought of the foul food and water made Andrew’s stomach churn, but his thirst
said he would eat and drink the hateful stuff once more.