The Warrior Trainer (28 page)

   "I have a request to make of you and the others."

   Keith drew his shoulders up, making him appear even more hearty and robust than he already was. "Anything."

   "Here me out first. Dangers lay in this request, and I shall respect your decision if you refuse."

   Confusion replaced the pride in his expression. "What would ye have us do?"

   "Follow Ian. Do not let him know you pursue, until he has need of you."

   "But—"

   "He and Griffin intend to confront the Four Horsemen. Alone."

   "No...," Keith breathed as his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. "To fight them alone ..."

   "Will you follow him?" Will you keep him safe? Scotia added in her thoughts.

   "If we go after Ian, then yer own defenses will be weakened," he said consideringly. "How can we leave ye exposed like that?"

   "Ian's need is greater. My own men will remain here."

After only a slight hesitation, Keith nodded. "
'Tis done. We ride immediately." He offered her a terse bow, then hurried from the room.

   Scotia stared after his retreating figure. At least Ian had a chance of survival now. The thought, however comforting, did not free her from the painful yearnings of her heart.

Chapter Twenty-three

   Maisie and Burke stood side by side as they waited for Keith Ranald to leave the great hall. When just the three of them remained, Maisie made her way toward Scotia on legs that had suddenly turned unsteady and weak. Scotia stood with her back straight, not moving, barely breathing. Maisie watched as Scotia slowly tensed her muscles, as her hand tightened on the hilt of her sword, as the joy that Ian had brought to her face ebbed away, replaced once again with the cool aloofness that had seen her through her youth. She was retreating back into the darkness that had shadowed her life before Ian had come to her.

   "Scotia." Maisie placed hesitant fingers on Scotia's arm, trying to offer whatever comfort she might.

   Scotia lifted her face. The devastated look in her eyes rendered Maisie speechless. The emotions that had shaped and formed Scotia up until now—the pain, the misery, the withdrawal—reflected in the depths of her eyes. Emotions she had hoped Scotia would never have to experience again.

   "I need to get back to training." Scotia made to move toward the door, but Maisie stilled her with a hand on her arm.

   "Ye do not need to train. Ye need to talk this out."

   "I cannot." Scotia shook her head.

   "Ye canna hide yer emotions from me. I see what yer feelin', and it'll consume ye if ye doona talk about it with someone." The strong bearing of Scotia's shoulders drooped ever so slightly, but was enough of a sign of agreement for Maisie to continue.

   "Ye cared about that bonny lad, didn't ye?" Maisie asked carefully.

   The words brought Scotia's gaze back to Maisie's. "He is gone," Scotia said, her voice breaking.

   With those simple words, Maisie knew all the things Scotia did not say: all the fears, all the hurt. How many years had she tried to compensate for Scotia's mother's lack of compassion and caring? She knew the young woman before her as well as if she were her own child. Maisie tried to gather Scotia to her, to offer what little physical comfort she could, but Scotia pulled away.

   Scotia's sword and shield slipped from her fingers and a clang resounded in the great hall. When the sound ebbed away, Scotia brought her trembling fingers up to her mouth, as if doing so would hold the pain inside her.

   "Do not go back to that cave of darkness ye've locked yerself in for so long," Maisie said, finding her voice. "Let it out, Scotia."

   Scotia shook her head. "I... don't know how." Tears welled up in her eyes and her throat worked to hold them back. She turned away, shielding her grief from Maisie.

   "I want to help. Please let me help ye." Maisie shifted where she stood, not knowing what else to do. Scotia didn't want comfort, not from her.

   "Things were changing, Maisie. I feel... different." Scotia pressed her lips together as if trying to block the force of her emotions. "Sad. Angry."

   "Why?" Maisie prompted.

   "He made me feel like a real woman, protected and loved. I had thoughts, Maisie. Thoughts about the future."

   " 'Tis a good thing." Maisie smiled encouragingly.

   "Nay." Scotia shook her head. "Because now I know what it is like to feel feminine, and loved. But all that is gone and I am alone once again. Oh, Maisie. He swept me away in a tide of sensations. I never realized how much I wanted to feel like any other woman—protected and cherished instead of having to always be so strong."

   "But ye are strong, Scotia. 'Tis part of who ye are. What is wrong with that?"

   "I want more." She flared her fingers across her middle as though she were protecting something there. "I want to be a woman. I want... I wanted a baby." The words echoed around the stillness of the room.

   "You can still—"

   "Nay," she said in a choked voice. "I want Ian to father my daughter. I... love him."

   Maisie felt tears well up in her own eyes at the tortured sound in Scotia's voice. As though sensing her need for support, Burke moved to her side.

   Scotia straightened. "But that will never be." She paused and pressed her lips together, visibly trying to control her tears.

   "That's not true." Maisie held her hands out to Scotia.

Scotia jerked back, waving her hands toward the ground where her sword and shield lay. "I am only good at fighting. Hardly the qualities of motherhood."

   "Ye'll be a fine mother." A tightness came to Maisie's throat.

   Tears spilled from Scotia's eyes. "I shall never know. That part of my life is over before it has even begun."

   "There are other men," Maisie offered, even though she knew Scotia would never choose another. She was too loyal, too committed. Once her heart was given, it would be for a lifetime.

   Scotia tugged down the edge of her brigandine as she tried to reel in her pain. Despite the changes Ian had wrought in her, Scotia would retreat back into the safety of her armor and castle. There was no avoiding that reality.

   Burke reached out, and Maisie felt his fingers close around hers. He seemed to understand her own unspoken need for comfort. This was not the outcome they had worked toward. She drew in a halting breath. 'Twas their duty to see Scotia had a child and continued her line. Yet how could they force her to do so now? Her grief had been laid out before them, stark and unfettered. 'Twould be cruel to insist she find another mate. They had made that mistake with her mother.

   Burke squeezed Maisie's hand. She met his gaze and saw a flicker of encouragement in the depths of his tired gray eyes. "Have faith," he said with a gentle smile.

   The words helped steel Maisie's resolve. Aye, faith. 'Twas what kept them on their course for the past twenty-five years. Faith in their country, faith in their mistress, and faith in her daughter. Maisie allowed her hand to rest on Scotia's shoulder. To her surprise, Scotia did not pull away this time. Instead, she covered Maisie's gnarled fingers with her younger hand. "Tomorrow things won't look so bad, love." Maisie sent her a weak smile.

   Scotia batted the tears from her cheeks with the back of her other hand. "If only I could determine where to go from here."

   Burke released Maisie's hand and moved to stand before Scotia, with his back straight and tall. "I realize yer disappointed, lass. We all are. But ye'll move on from this. Ye have no choice."

   "But where do I start?" Scotia asked.

   Burke's cheeks flushed pink and his eyes flashed, not with anger but with a vibrancy Maisie had long thought dead. Her heart beat a little faster at the sight. "Where ye always start. Go back t
ae
yer foundation—back t
ae
who ye are." He brought his hand up to rest on Scotia's shoulder. "I've watched ye grow from a wee lass t
ae
a strong and independent warrior. I sat back and watched ye struggle when yer countrymen stopped comin' t
ae
ye t
ae
train, and when the foreigners only came t
ae
challenge ye. And I burst with pride when ye won that first battle." Some of the fight left Burke's gaze as he looked Scotia directly in the face. "I've loved ye no matter what happened, no matter yer choices. I've done my duty, Scotia, as if I were yer own father. Now ye must do yers."

   He bent down and picked up her sword, holding it toward her. "Now is the time to rise above these difficulties and do what ye were put on this earth to do."

   Scotia hesitated as she stared at her weapon. "If I were put on this earth to bear a child to continue my line, then nay, I cannot and will not do that."

   "Yer life has other purposes. Those lessons ye should know well."

   Scotia nodded her head. "Protecting the Stone and my people. And training those who might someday come to me to learn."

   "Aye, lass." Burke smiled.

   Maisie continued to study Scotia as her conscience pricked at her to tell the truth, all of it. There were things Scotia should know.

   "What is it Maisie
?”
Scotia asked. "I have come to know that troubled look on your face."

   Maisie hesitated. "There is somethin' we should have told you long ago." Scotia waited silently for her to continue. "The reason yer countrymen stopped comin' here to train with ye. Burke and I allowed everyone except the clan council to believe ye had died along with yer mother."

   "What?"

   "We decided the deception would keep ye and the Stone safe from the White Horseman until ye were ready to stand up to him." Scotia's expression held all the betrayal Maisie expected to see written there. "We loved ye so much. We couldn't bear to lose ye." The sentiment didn't excuse the deception, but it was their only defense. Would Scotia understand that?

   "And why do the challengers come to me now, after all this time? Haldane had something to do with it, but he could not have sent them all."

   "Three moon cycles ago, we sent your warriors out, encouraging them to spread the word that ye still lived. After all the years of secrecy, we needed to break our silence in order for ye to choose a mate and bear the new Warrior Trainer."

   Scotia paled. "That was when the Four Horsemen returned to this country and when foreigners came to challenge me."

   "Aye," Maisie acknowledged. "As soon as the news spread to England, the White Horseman came to Glencarron Castle looking for ye."

   "And," Scotia prompted tersely.

   "We told him ye had left the safety of the castle with the Stone to move among yer countrymen."

   The hurt in her soft green eyes shifted to that of guilt and fear. "You endangered the lives of my people all the more. Oh, Maisie ..."

   "Aye," she admitted hoarsely. "But the clan leaders willingly accepted the dangers in order to keep ye safe."