Sarah Gabriel (25 page)

“That will come soon enough,” she replied quietly.

Donal stood, took up his walking stick. “Marry him now,” he said. “Go take his hands in yours and wed him now, in the old way, before you go in that cave.”

She stepped backward, her grandfather’s suggestion alarming her, ominous rather than joyful. “I will be fine,” she said. “We will have a wedding that all can celebrate.”

“Now,” he said. “Give him your forever pledge before you go into that place; form that bond now. I will wait and witness it, do you like.”

Elspeth felt a cold grip of fear suddenly. The wind whipped hard, pushing at her back, but she stood firm. “That is not necessary, but thank you. Go down the
slope, Grandda, and be careful in the rain,” she said. “We will meet you at the inn by the loch.”

She turned to hurry after James, who was already proceeding up the slope toward the boulders that framed and nearly obscured the cave entrance in the cliff.

As she came closer, she heard grumbling thunder overhead, and rain pattered down. As she approached the cave, the dark opening looked foreboding.

“James!” she called out, coming closer. He was kneeling, examining some rocks while he waited for her. Waving, he seemed in no hurry as he used a hammer to break off a bit of stone.

Hurrying toward him, she noticed the cluster of black boulders that framed the entrance, shaped like granite sentinels to either side of the cave. Feeling wary, she turned to see her grandfather walking steadily downhill, following the course of another runnel track. He would be safe soon, she knew, once he reached the lower slopes, where there were cottages and shepherds, and the loch below.

She stood for a moment, thoughtful as she recalled what he had said, and the gravity and concern he had shown. Then she turned to walk toward James. He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Much of this is limestone, but there are excellent patches of granite,” he said, “showing traces of chalcedony, of a translucent variety. Some flecks of obsidian, too, with mica and quartz as well. Granite is a composite rock,” he went on, “and the degree of chalcedony in the rubble here indicates that there could indeed be agate somewhere.”

“That’s wonderful.” Her heart was beating strangely fast, and she felt a bit disoriented. “They are lovely rocks.”

“Indeed. There could be something of real geological significance in that cave. The limestone layer is above a layer of granite, indicating a marine era with an earlier heat era. Quite possibly, heavy volcanic activity transformed this mountain eons ago. Did your grandfather decide to go back so soon?” He looked past her.

“I sent him down. There is no need for him to wait alone in a place where he feels unsettled. You and I will be safe, especially if—” She stopped, watching him.

He aimed the double magnifying lens toward the rock and peered through. “Excellent example of a trilobite—Fiona will love it. Aye, we will be fine, if what?”

“If we marry before we go inside there.”

“I
f we do what?” The rain pattered on the rock and scree, and James thought she said something else—
marry
—but he must have heard it wrong. “Did you say hurry?”

She stepped closer, the hem of her gray gown brushing over the rocks that he was examining, and then she knelt beside him. “I said marry.”

James set aside the loupe and the hammer and stared at her. Then, with the aid of his walking stick, he rose to his feet and took her hand to pull her up with him. “Now?”

She nodded, her eyes beautiful in the cloudy light. “Here and now, for protection before we go inside the cave.”

“I see.” He spoke slowly, trying to take it in. Marry—when he had pushed so, and she had resisted. He had let it go, resigned to wait, and then she came to him like this, so earnestly that his heart wrenched with love. She was a marvel to him. He shook his head, huffed a laugh, almost disbelieving. “And the condition I must fulfill? My Herculean labor, finding the fairy treasure before I win the hand of the princess?”

“We have no time for that. I want to marry you now, here, in the old way.”

He drew in a breath, stirred deep, but cocked his head. “You are a fickle creature, Elspeth MacArthur.”

“It is my fairy blood, that changeable nature.” She lifted her head. “I want us to pledge now, here, if it is marriage you truly want. That will guard us both. No one can sunder us or harm us that way.”

James felt overwhelmed for a moment, unexpected and powerful emotion rushing through him. He loved this girl above all else—loved her full and deep, but he had not expressed it well, or even adequately. He set his hands on her shoulders. “Whatever you want, I am your man for it. I love you,” he murmured, pulling her close.

“And I love you as well,” she murmured. “And this feels right to me. But are you truly willing, here and now?” she asked again.

“I am. I doubt we are in danger from the fairy kind,” he said softly, “but if this is what you want, then we shall do it without delay.”

She tipped her head. “What if I say, once we are wed, that I want to live in the Highlands? We have not settled that, and it is a concern. Will you do as I say then?”

“I will do your bidding in the matter of marriage, now and gladly. In the other matter—let us negotiate. Fair enough?” She nodded. “Good. How, and where?” He held her hand in his, and looked around. “What spot would you choose for your wedding?”

She tugged on his hand to lead him toward one of the streams of water that cut down from the mountaintop, carrying rain and melted snow to the lower
levels, thus transferring the power of the mountain and sky to the earth. “Here,” she said. “Step over the water, and stand there, if you will, and I shall stand on this side.”

He crossed the slender runnel and turned to face her. He had heard of such things, read of them here and there. “The old tradition of handfasting,” he said. “We join hands over running water, and speak our vows.” He took her hands in his, and noticed that her fingers were trembling. Letting go for a moment, he drew off her gloves—his hands already bare—and tucked the small kid gloves into his pocket.

Elspeth then placed her right hand in his right, and her left in his left, so that their forearms were crossed. “It is a very old Gaelic custom, I have heard, to form a love knot over running water. The union will be strong, and last forever, with such a blessing. And then the vows—just say what comes to you,” she whispered. “Whatever enters your heart, let it come through your words.”

James took a breath, let the feeling swell within, heart and soul. The force of what gathered in him filled him with humility, with awe. Feeling solid earth and rock beneath him, and aware of the power of water and the infinite symbol of their crossed hands, he felt so moved that for a moment he could not speak. And then he did.

“I, James Arthur MacCarran, take you, Elspeth…”

“Eilidh,” she whispered. “My birth name is Eilidh.”

“Ay-leth
,” he repeated softly, gazing at her through a misting rain. “Beautiful. I, James Arthur MacCarran, pledge my troth to you, Eilidh MacArthur. I take you as my wife and my lover, forever and a day.”

“I, Eilidh MacArthur,” she murmured, “pledge my troth and my heart to you, James MacCarran. I take you now as my husband and my lover, forever and a day.”

He leaned forward, drawing her crossed hands toward him, and he kissed her. The water burbled between them, the rain fell upon them, and he kissed her slowly and deeply, his heart thumping hard for what he had just done, what he felt, what he had promised. She lifted on her toes and leaned in, their hands still crossed, and then gently drew back.

He stepped over the water to join her, and took her into his arms. “There we are, Mrs. MacCarran,” he murmured. “Now we will be safe inside the cave.”

“Good. And safe always,” she said. “And I will keep my name, if you do not mind, Mr. MacCarran. It is my right to do so, as a Highland wife. Come, we may as well get this over with.” She tugged on his hand.

“Oh, my insulted manliness, madam.”

“Not that,” she said, laughing a little. “The cave. The search.”

“I thought the condition might be excused with our change in marital status.”

“But the gold must be found. We have no choice,” she said earnestly, wrapping her hands around his forearm. “We must save Donal MacArthur.”

“And ourselves as well, so it would seem. Aye then. Come ahead.” Buoyed by the power of the last few minutes, he kissed her again, then pulled her close and walked with her toward the cave.

Elspeth shivered in the cool darkness as they stepped inside the cave. She looked around, drawing her plaid close and gripping James’s hand tightly. She saw only
an ordinary cave, irregularly shaped, not very large, with rough curving walls and shadows deepening near the sloping back, where there was another opening, leading beyond.

No fairy halls painted in gold, no tall, luminous fairies waiting for them. She breathed a sigh of relief.

James reached out to brush his hand over a span of pale rock wall. “There’s a good bit of metamorphic dolomitic limestone here,” he said. “Limestone deposits,” he explained, “when large enough, often contain caves and caverns, like pockets of air as the stone formed and cooled. This is a very fine cave,” he went on, and let go of her hand to walk deeper inside, looking around.

Elspeth held back by the threshold, chilled and wary, as James moved around, stroking his hand over the undulations and textures in the rock walls. He glanced back at her. “I’ve a tinderbox in my satchel,” he said. “We can make a fire and warm up if you like. We can spend some time looking about this place, with your grandfather gone, and the others not expecting us for hours. What is wrong?”

Without realizing, she had wrapped her arms snug about herself, shoulders tensed. “I am a bit nervous, wondering if there are…others here.”

“Your grandfather’s remarks were a bit unsettling, I will admit. But we’re safe. We ensured that just a few minutes ago.” He came back to take her in his arms and kiss her gently. “Do you want to stay here and wait while I look around?”

She shook her head. “I do not want to stay alone.” He took her hand in a firm grip, and she walked with him toward the back, where he ducked his head, be
ing taller than she, and stepped ahead to peer into the shadows.

“The cave has at least two chambers,” he said then. “There’s a smaller inner room back there. And this larger cave has been in use recently. Look,” he said, gesturing toward the side wall. “Accommodations for a horse—that’s a stone trough over there, with…huh, some oats still in it,” he continued, letting go of her hand to step in that direction. She saw that some stacked stones formed a feeding trench, and iron hooks had been hammered into the wall for reins and other items.

“Who would bring a horse in here?” Elspeth asked. “We should go.”

“Not fairy riders,” he said wryly, “but smugglers.”

“Ah, true, Grandda mentioned that.” She laughed at her own nervousness. “A fair amount of smuggling goes on in this region. They often stash their goods in caves, and hide men and horses as well from excise men and sheriffs who may be after them. Our cousin—” She stopped.

“Your smuggling kinsmen will be snug in their homes on such a dreary day. Even if they’re about at night, it’s not a concern for us.” He walked toward the inner chamber entrance, and peered into it. Elspeth followed. The dark, close space was deserted, she saw with relief. Faint light spilled there from the outer room, revealing shadowy objects—boxes, a chest, stacks of blankets, a natural rock ledge used as a shelf for bottles, bowls, candles, tins.

“They were definitely here at some point,” James said. Elspeth stepped tentatively into the smaller cave, her curiosity getting the better of her. She followed a natural ramp of rock, since the second cave was below
the outer one, set deeper in the earth. The space was smaller than the other cave, though tall enough for James to stand upright.

“These wooden crates stacked against the rock wall are empty,” he said, looking into them. “Nothing here would be of current interest to smugglers.” Taking his tinderbox from his leather satchel, he knelt, and flashing steel to flint, made enough sparks on dry wood shavings to create a little flame.

He lit one of the candles that sat on a ledge, and stood to hold it high, the golden glow spilling down. Elspeth saw that the cave had been transformed into a crude nest with blankets. Poking about, James found a crate that contained two whiskey bottles and a small sack of oats.

“The rock here is a bit different than the outer cave,” James said. “Those are mostly limestone, with basalt and granite in the floor, while this one has much more granite composition. Interesting.”

“So that means the layers show different ages in the rock,” she said. “This cave is below the other, so this granite layer formed first.”

“Very good! I did not know you even listened to my ramblings.” He smiled then, with his eyes, warm and sparkling.

“I was listening to you all along,” she said. “And I am a little curious about the rocks now, to be sure. Oh, it is cold and damp here.” She rubbed her arms.

“There is a devilish chill in some caves, and we’re damp from the drizzle,” he agreed. “The whiskey and those blankets are tempting.”

Seeing a wooden chest in a dark corner, she knelt to open it, sifting her hand through piles of fabric inside. “Plaids, some shirts. No treasure,” she added.

“Did you think it would be so easy?” James chuckled. “No wonder Donal said there was nothing in this cave. The smugglers would have found any treasure that was here. And if there was treasure at some point, it was probably owned by men and stolen from them long ago, and simply attributed to the fairies.”

She stood. “You still do not believe us, do you.”

“As long as it can be explained,” he said, “it is hard to accept some aspects of the tale. Fairy treasure makes a better legend than a dispute among thieves, for example.”

She shivered again, and in the shadowy space, undid the ribbons of her bonnet, for it obscured her vision a bit. She set it by the door, her dark hair slipping free of a few of its pins; she pulled the rest out and dropped them into her pocket. When James picked up one of the plaid blankets and draped it around her shoulders, she smiled in thanks.

Raising the candle to shed the light on the back part of the cave, James went toward the shadows. “There is another cave back here, I think,” he said, and as he explored the back wall, his hand and arm disappeared into a crevice. “Aye. This way.” He slid into the space he had found, and Elspeth hurried to follow, eager neither to be left alone, nor to explore the place much. Her shivers were not entirely from cold, for a dread feeling still had not left her.

Yet James was her husband now, newly committed, the promises they had made still warming her heart and buoying her spirits. Wherever he went in this place, she would call up equal courage and go as well.

The cleft in the rock was narrow, but the opening widened, and she found it easy enough to slide
through, following the light of the candle James held aloft.

“What is this?” she asked, looking around. It seemed to be a long tunnel, narrow with a low ceiling, that vanished at the far end into pure blackness. She heard the faint drip of water somewhere, and heard no other sound but her own breathing, and his, and the soft sputter of the flame on the wick as a draft went past. “Another cave?”

“More like a channel in the rock, or a subterranean passage of some kind,” James said, walking ahead to explore, the curve of the ceiling so low that he stooped, and then crouched, running his hands along the rock to examine it. She saw other pools of shadows, narrow and low, like nooks and recesses, where James could stretch a hand, even an arm and a shoulder.

She saw him pick up a loose rock and pound at other rock encrusting one of the shadowy recesses. The sound echoed in the small chamber as he broke something away. He came back to join her, stretching out his hand.

“What have you found?” she asked, and he opened his palm to show her a chunk of dull stone. “What is that?” When he shone the candlelight on it, she saw a green glow.

“Agate,” he said. “Not the blue sort, but agate nonetheless. An excellent find!”

“Oh!” she said brightly, covering her own disappointment, having hoped, however foolishly, for the chest her father had painted, with dripping handfuls of pearls, gold, and jewels. “That’s wonderful for your work.”

“Aye,” James said. “I will come back here to work. As for the rest, caves and passages are often in clus
ters, as in this place. But this subterranean corridor leads nowhere. There is agate and common quartz, but little else. I doubt the smugglers have even been back here, for the stones are undisturbed.”

She turned slowly. “This does seem a good place to hide a hoard, though.”

“Aye, but not the case. I looked along all the crevices in here, and we’ve checked the outer caves.” He shook his head. “There’s nothing here, Ellie. I wish it were otherwise. I know you and Donal want to find the gold.”