Page 64 of Highlander Redeemed
“I ken that, husband of mine.” She smiled over at him and kept his hand clasped in hers as they watched the black sky of night turn the leaden grey that heralded the coming of the dawn. Suddenly, an arrow aflame arced out of the forest then sank below the level of the curtain wall, just where the English camp was set up. The war whoops of the MacAlpins and the MacKenzies came to them on the morning breeze.
“The attack has begun,” Jeanette said, rushing to the hidden door.
Malcolm beat her to the tapestry, holding it out for her, then following her back into the hidden stairway. She closed the door and made sure ’twas latched securely, then he picked up the lantern and led the way as fast as they could manage the stairs.
“Are you ready, Jeanette?” he asked as they neared the bottom. “Are the Guardians ready?”
“As ready as we can be. ’Tis time to take back our home. ’Tis time to rid ourselves of these Sassenachs once and for all.”
SCOTIA TOOK Adeep breath as Nicholas slowly opened the cleverly disguised door that sat just where the tower butted up against the curtain wall. The two Protectors, Duncan, and one of the other warriors led the way into the still-dim bailey. The other four warriors would come behind the Guardians.
Her heart was beating hard, and her hands were damp. She wiped them on her trews, checked that her sword hung by her side, and wished she still had her shield, though she knew her task in this was not to fight with these expected weapons.
When everyone was out of the tunnel and standing against the curtain wall, hoping to conceal their presence in the bailey for just a little longer, Jeanette secured the door once more.
Nicholas whispered, “Ready? Now!” and the Protectors led the way to the well in the very center of the bailey at a run.
A cry went out from the wall walk, and Scotia knew they only had a few short moments to get a barrier up to protect the Guardians while they worked.
The three of them huddled on the north side of the well, not sure if it mattered if they were in exactly the right spot to draw thepower of the Targe stone, but Malcolm had argued, and Duncan had agreed, that at least on the north side they would not have anyone standing on a curtain wall behind them, and the stone wall of the well might afford them some protection.
Rowan had the ermine sack on the ground and open already with the symbols facing the correct Guardian. The Targe stone was cradled in her hands. Jeanette had left the tunnel with her cup in one hand and a waterskin in the other, already unstoppered, so she had her cup filled and settled almost as quickly. It struck Scotia suddenly that she had nothing to prepare.
A frisson of fear ran over her skin, but she refused to give into it. She had touched the Story Stone when she became a Guardian, but she had not had it when they practiced what they were here to do. Was that why they had not been able to create the Highland Targe then and there? Doubt joined fear, dancing a raucous reel in her stomach.
The sound of swords clashing nearby startled all three of them, but Scotia refused to look.
“Say the blessing, Jeanette,” Scotia said, her voice sharp with worry. “Quickly!”
Jeanette made the blessing faster than she ever had before, her hands flying through the air, and then the three of them touched the Targe stone while Jeanette intoned another blessing. The prickle of energy that passed over Scotia’s skin loosened the tightness in her chest. The barrier was up.
“Duncan.” She turned to where he was supposed to be, just behind her where the barrier would surround him, too, only to find him pelting toward the steps that led up to the curtain wall where the soldiers who had been on the wall walk had descended to engage in battle with the MacAlpins.
The fear almost took over.
“Does he not understand he is injured?” It took all her will to stay where she was, but her heart took up an even faster beat.
“Scotia, you cannot worry over Duncan right now,” Rowan said. “None of us can worry about anything except creating the Highland Targe.”
“I ken that,” Scotia snapped. “Sorry,” she said immediately, knowing that Rowan was right. ’Twas exactly what Duncan had taught her: in battle you had to do the task assigned you, no matter what. She was a warrior and a Guardian, and her task was clear.
“Are you sure the protective barrier will hold if we are not concentrating on it?” she asked her sister.
“Aye. This is one thing that Rowan and I have had plenty of time to prepare for.”
“Then let us begin,” Rowan said, holding the stone heart high between them.
Jeanette placed one hand on the stone and one on the lip of her cup so her fingertips met the surface of the water. Scotia placed one hand on the stone but did not know what to do with her other hand, so she rested it on the hilt of her sword.
They each took a moment to call forth their gifts. Scotia closed her eyes, letting herknowingroam freely, finding each of those men she loved, Duncan first, her da, Uilliam, the Protectors, but there was nothing in theknowingsthat caused her to focus on any of them directly.
She could hear the wind pick up outside the barrier and knew that Rowan was ready. She shifted her attention to her sister, andknewthat she, too, was filled with her gift.
Slowly, carefully, for this was still very new to Scotia, she focused her attention on the Targe stone, and through it pulled Jeanette’s gift of visions to meld with her ownknowing. Next, and even more carefully, she reached for Rowan’s gift. Her gift was volatile, and the slightest change in Rowan’s emotions could increase or decrease the strength of it.
When she had all three gifts joined through the focus of the Targe stone she sent a bit ofknowinginto each of the others, and they began the blessing, a prayer really, that Jeanette hadremembered and Scotia had understood. The words twined the gifts together even tighter than Scotia was able to do and began to weave the power that Rowan drew from the earth into a tiny round shield that glowed against her closed eyelids, growing with each repetition of the prayer.
She did not know how long they had been working when aknowingslammed into her. “Da!” she cried out, just as Jeanette and Rowan did. Without hesitation Scotia redirected the focus of their work, calling on Jeanette’s vision to show them what herknowingtold them.
