Page 4 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
Carefully, he took it, his fingers momentarily brushing hers.
As he turned the coin over, inspecting it as thoroughly as he could, Roderick noticed strange markings on its surface: three circles arranged in a perfect triangle.
His eyes darted to hers, sharp with suspicion. “What is this?”
She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the shadows behind her as though expecting someone to emerge. Once satisfied that they were alone, she turned back to Roderick and continued.
“Ye rescued me, and now I owe ye a favor. The Triad,” she said, her voice extra hushed, “will be there whenever and wherever ye need it.”
Roderick hesitated. “I dinnae understand. The ‘Triad’?”
The woman sighed, trying not to reveal too much. “If ye encounter a problem that appears tae be impossible tae solve, the Triad can help ye. This is a secret, reveal it tae anyone and the favor is revoked.”
Roderick nodded slowly, still confused by the words coming from the mysterious lady he had just rescued.
“If ye need help, ye can send a letter here,” she slipped a small piece of parchment into his hand, her eyes narrowing, her tone steady but urgent. “Use this coin tae stamp it.”
Roderick opened his mouth to speak, but she glanced behind her again, ensuring they were still alone before continuing. “There should be absolutely nay information in yer letter that could expose us. If ye dae, it’ll be considered a breach of contract, and we willnae be able tae help ye.”
“I understand.”
“Nay one aside from yerself should have any information whatsoever about the mission ye have called us fer, nay information on why ye have reached out. If ye reach out tae us, it must be under those terms.”
“Are there any limitations?” Roderick asked quickly, conscious that their time was limited. “What if I ask fer too much?”
The air went still, and her face grew somber. “Just hope ye never have tae use the coin, fer yer own good.”
Roderick nodded, tucking the coin and parchment into his pocket.
“I hope,” she said, her voice thick with gravity “that I won't ever have tae see ye again.
Without another word, Moira turned and vanished into the night, her cloak dissolving into the darkness like smoke.
Roderick stood still for a moment, his hand slipping into his pocket once more, and turning the cool coin between his fingers, he quietly reflected on the mysterious gift he’d just received. Roderick didn’t understand much, but he knew better than to breathe another word of what he’d been told.
All that Roderick recalled of Moira from the night they’d met was her hooded cloak, her face half hidden beneath the darkness of the night. But her eyes—he had noticed them even then—were just as piercing.
Now, as she stood before him, her posture straight, her chin slightly raised, Roderick tried to understand what she might be thinking. All those years ago, her presence had left him bewildered. But this time, her expression was cold, a mask of indifference that betrayed nothing.
Time, it seemed, had not softened her. If anything, it had sharpened her into something else. Something impenetrable.
He thought back to when he first wrote the letter to her. Ever since his father’s death he had been convinced that it wasn’t the mere accident that had been reported. He knew his father better than anyone, and he needed answers—not just for his own closure but for reasons he knew to be critical. Roderick had never been one to simply accept what he was told; there was something in him that always guided him toward the truth.
Moira’s lips twitched, but she didn’t speak. Instead, her silence stretched taut between them, thick as the tension in the room. It was Roderick who broke it again.
"When the doctor said it was possible me faither might have eaten something bad on the road," he began, his tone hardening as he stepped even closer, "I kenned there was more tae the story."
Her gaze didn’t waver, but the subtle tightening of her jaw betrayed her intrigue, Roderick noticed, perhaps more than Moira thought.
“That’s why,” he continued, his tone hardening, “I kenned that there was only one solution. I had tae send fer ye and collect the favor ye owed me. I needed the Triad’s help.”
Roderick noticed her body flinch, though her face remained the same.
“It is nae small thing that ye have done,” Moira said, inclining her head ever so slightly. Her words came out as coldly as her expression.
“I’m aware,” Roderick replied curtly, turning away from Moira and toward the fireplace. “But me faither’s death is nae small thing either.”
He rested one hand on the stone mantle, staring into the flickering flames. There was something distracting about Moira—be it her mysterious manner or her graceful demeanor. He decided that it was best for him to focus on the matter at hand.
