Page 4 of To Wed a Witch
Laird MacKay had gone white as new wool."Sìne?Daughter, what in heaven’s name..."
Bhaltair was already on his feet, his chair scraping against stone as he rose.Every instinct honed by years of battle had him stepping forward, his hand moving unconsciously toward where his sword would hang.
But Sìne wasn't listening to her father.Her eyes had fixed on Bhaltair.She had no idea why, but she just knew this man, as fearsome as he looked, would shelter her.Instinctively, without thought or reason, Sìne launched herself across the hall toward him rather than seeking her father's protection.Something told her this stranger was powerful enough to keep her safe when her own father might not be.
"Please," she gasped, dodging around the high table with surprising agility for someone whose hands were bound.Before anyone could react, she'd positioned herself directly behind Bhaltair."They think I'm a witch.They're right behind me.Dinnae let them take me back!"
The moment she pressed against his back, trembling, Bhaltair's arm swept around her waist, pulling her firmly against his side.The trust she'd shown in coming to him hit him like a physical blow.Something primal stirred in his chest as he felt her complete faith in his ability to shield her.
"What's this about?"he demanded.
Before anyone could answer, angry voices erupted from the courtyard outside, growing louder as they approached the hall.
"MacKay!We ken she's here!"
"Send out the witch!"
"Justice for what she's done to the boy!"
The guardsmen at the gates had recognized Sìne immediately and let her through without question, but the pursuing villagers had surged through behind her, overwhelming the small contingent.The guards, unwilling to draw swords against unarmed villagers had been forced to let them pass.
Bhaltair's arm tightened around her waist protectively, and he felt her shudder against him.
"Easy, lass," he whispered, his voice pitched low enough that only she could hear."Tell me true.What exactly did ye do to this lad?"
Sìne's voice was steadier now, though still breathless."I was headed to the market day festival when I came upon a small crowd gathered for a burial of a wee lad they said had died from a fall.But I kenned he was not dead because I caught a flicker of movement behind his eyelids.But they were determined on lowering him into the ground.I told them to wait, that he lived still.I reached out and felt a weak pulse and leant forward to check for breath, when at that moment the lad stirred and opened his eyes..."She let out a shaky laugh."The crowd decided I'd called him back from the dead."
"And had ye?"
"No!He was never dead to begin with, just deeply asleep from the blow to his head.Any healer worth their salt would have kenned to check for breath and heartbeat before pronouncing death."
When Bhaltair turned slightly to look at her, he saw intelligence and indignation in her strangely colored eyes—one brown, the other green—equally striking beneath the mud and scratches.She was nothing like what he'd expected.
The angry crowd could now be heard just outside the Great Hall.
"Well then," Bhaltair replied, "it seems we have a problem."
***
BHALTAIR COULD NOTfor the life of him understand why he would not let the daft woman go.She was every inch completely unhinged and utterly beguiling.The first thing that struck him was that she was not a mythical creature, an old crone, nor was she crazed as the rumors suggested.Sìne MacKay was, in fact, full flesh and blood, and right now she was trembling against him so much so he could feel the fear despite her show of bravery.Despite the tattered clothing and her current predicament, she had bewitched him.
The Great Hall erupted into chaos as the mob of villagers burst through the doors, their faces twisted with righteous fury.They filled the space with angry shouts and accusations.
"There she is!"
"The devil's own!"
"She raised the dead with her dark magic!"
Laird MacKay stepped forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture."Now see here, good people, there's been some misunderstanding..."
"No misunderstanding, Laird MacKay!"shouted a burly man at the front of the group."Yer daughter worked witchcraft before our very eyes!"
"Surely we can discuss this reasonably," MacKay continued, his voice growing strained."Sìne is a healer, nothing more.If she helped a child, then—"
"She called him back from the dead!"shrieked a woman, pointing an accusing finger."We saw him lifeless as stone, and she whispered her devil's words and made him breathe again!"
Bhaltair watched with growing disgust as Laird MacKay floundered, trying to reason with the unreasonable.The man was losing control of the situation entirely, his authority crumbling before a mob of superstitious fools.Sìne trembled against him, and he could feel her fear radiating through her small frame.
