Page 7 of Awoken
“And here they are … finally.”
Carr Broderick’s whispered comment made a grim smile curve Ross’s lips. His companion, who crouched next to him in the undergrowth, had been impatient during their wait.
Four riders had entered Kilbride, and five departed. One of them was a small woman swathed in black, who rode side-saddle upon a sturdy grey pony.
“Lady Leanna MacDonald of Sleat,” Ross murmured. “We finally have ye.”
“Are ye sure it’s her?” Carr grumbled. “All the nuns look the same to me in their crow’s garb.”
“I’d wager ye all my savings that’s her,” Ross replied. “It’s one of the sisters we saw earlier.”
Indeed, shortly after the arrival of the MacDonald party, Ross and Carr had spied two nuns also approach from the south. Hauling a dead deer between them, they’d made an incongruous pair—one tall and broad-shouldered, the other much shorter. The smaller of the two nuns also carried a long bow and quiver of arrows slung across her back. The sight had intrigued Ross.
He’d no idea that the Sisters of Kilbride hunted their own deer.
No doubt, MacKinnon would be interested to learn so. It appeared that these nuns were not as helpless as one might think.
Rising to his feet, Ross brushed dirt off his braies. “Come on … let’s fetch the horses.”
Wordlessly, Carr nodded, and the pair of them shifted back into the heart of the hazel thicket, where their coursers awaited. Untying the horses and tightening their girths, the men swung up onto their backs. Then they set off south, following the MacDonald party.
Despite her chest-crushing sorrow, Leanna felt better the moment she left Kilbride Abbey. Riding across the hills of Skye eased the warring emotions within her. Panic, shame, guilt, and anger—each of them sought to dominate. But out here in the open, she could outrun them.
Evan and the three warriors accompanying him weren’t men prone to prattle. Leanna was grateful for that, although it meant that shortly after leaving the abbey, she retreated into her own thoughts.
And when she did so, memories of her father returned.
She could still envisage him, seated in his carven chair by the hearth at Duncaith, his white-blond hair spilling over his shoulders, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement as he listened to his wife lamenting how tiresome it was to have five daughters.
Leanna’s throat constricted, and a sob welled up deep in her chest. Choking it down, she blinked rapidly as her vision blurred. She was riding blind, but the pony was docile and merely plodded after Evan’s leggy courser, happy to follow.
Her father really was gone. She’d never see him again.
How would she feel upon arriving at Duncaith again? How could she bear to step back inside the broch and not see him? It would seem empty and cold without Niall MacDonald.
Life was empty and cold without her father.
A wind blew in from the west, bringing with it the salty whisper of the sea. They were just out of sight of the coast here, although as they entered the woodland, the rich smell of vegetation and damp peaty earth dominated.
Golden afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees, and birds twittered, but Leanna scarcely paid her surroundings any notice. Instead, grief shrouded her, blocking out the rest of the world.
The afternoon drew out, and eventually they left the wooded valley behind and rode out across windswept hills. Huge mountains rose to the east, their smooth sides turning red and gold as the setting sun caught them. Finally, Leanna emerged from her fog of despair, her gaze alighting on the majesty of the mountains. This isle was so beautiful that it could take your breath away.
And yet a heavy sensation settled in the pit of Leanna’s belly as she gazed upon the peaks.Da loved these mountains.
A keen hunter, Niall MacDonald had led a number of hunting parties into the steep, wooded valleys at the base of those peaks, where great stags were known to roam. And in the end, his love of hunting had been his demise.
Eyes stinging as fresh tears surfaced, Leanna swallowed hard. Closing her eyes, she whispered a soft prayer for her father’s soul.
The light was fading when Evan drew the party up. “We won’t reach Duncaith before dark,” he announced, dismounting his horse. “It’s best we make camp here overnight.”
They had reached a stand of pines that grew in the mountains dividing MacKinnon and MacDonald lands. With the setting sun, the air had grown cool, and the scent of pine resin filled the narrow valley where they halted.
It had been a long while since Leanna had slept out under the stars. Not since before she had entered womanhood. The thought made the ache of sorrow in her breast ease just a little; a night out in the wild would bring her closer to her father. It also gave her time to compose herself before seeing her mother and sisters once more. She slid down from her pony’s back, her sandaled feet sinking into a bed of pine needles.
Leading the shaggy grey mare over to a tree, she tied it up and unsaddled it. Then she broke off a piece of pine from an overhead branch and began to rub the pony down in long, smooth strokes.
“I see ye haven’t forgotten yer upbringing, Sister Leanna,” Evan observed from behind her. “Yer father taught ye how to look after horses well.”
