Highlander’s Mysterious Lady (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance) Page 25

  Logan couldn’t believe what he heard. His sister turned away, unable to look at him.

  “A rebellion. What do ye mean?” Logan searched his mind for any evidence that would prove this event was a long time coming, but he couldn’t find much. He hadn’t been a tyrant, not at all like Dillon, nothing that should make his people wish to turn against him.

  “They dinnae think me a fit leader anymore?” Logan asked.

  Mildred shook her head. “I’m nae sure what it is; it’s all in whispers, and I canna tell ye where it comes from. But tis a warning, Logan. Yer people are beginning ta think of turning against ye. Wherever the idea comes from, it’s an idea that needs ta be squashed.”

  “I’ll see tae it, Mildred. Thank ye for comin’ tae me with this.”

  Logan’s fears were coming true. He thought he had some time to fix the mess around him, but his people were already plotting against him.

  If his own clan didn’t want to support him, and Dillon did attempt to take control, how would he convince his own people he was worth fighting for?

  Chapter Two

  Sophia’s eyelids fluttered as drops of sweat traced her temple and her hairline. Heat radiated through the room. Even for a summer night, the temperature was far too high. Her hair was as bright as an orange primrose, and it lay softly beside her, cascading across the pillow cradling her head. As the sweat moved down her face, a drop ran along her neck, and the tickle woke her from a deep sleep. At first, Sophia thought she was still in her dream, the same one she’d been having for weeks. In the dream, a man faced away from her. He had broad shoulders, and appeared wild and brutish.

  He spoke to Sophia, but never faced her. “I need yer help. I cannae do this without ye. I need to remember who I was before all of this.”

  In her dream, Sophia approached him. She smoothed her hands along his shoulders, removing his heavy cloak.

  “I’ll help ye as best as I can.” Always, as he was about to turn and finally embrace her, she would wake, her skin damp and clammy. The man whose face she could never make out, but whose hands, she imagined, would feel like silk against her skin—a touch she fell asleep thinking of and hoped to dream of each night. But tonight, instead of waking with the longing she usually felt, she found herself shutting her eyes as quickly as she had opened them.

  “Ach, wha—” She felt the smoke wrap its hands around her throat as she began to cough and choke. She reached up, clutching at her neck, trying to let in a fresh breath. She opened her eyes and tried to look around. Between the darkness of the night and the thick clouds of grey smoke, Sophia could scarcely see her own hand in front of her. What was going on? Her lungs burned with ash, and her skin began to feel sore from the heat. A bright light near the bedroom door caught her eye. She turned and could make out enough to see the whole interior wall ablaze, the flames licking from floor to ceiling. Sophia turned in bed, looking for a quilt, anything to guard herself from the flames, but there was nothing within reach.

  As she turned back to face the fire, her bedroom door burst open, sending bits of ash and charred wood flying towards her. She cowered on the bed, unable to do much but wait for the flames to reach her. A hunched figure ran towards her, a wool blanket held out in front of his body. At first, her heart pounding in fear, she turned away from the person.

  “I’ve got ye!” The figure threw the blanket over Sophia, grabbing her in a single moment. “Cover ye face with the fabric!”

  The crackling of the flames made it difficult to hear anything. Her body became dead weight; she didn’t know whether to fight the man off or be grateful that he swept her out of the room before it collapsed on her. He moved slow and sluggish; even though Sophia was thin, her weight proved a burden. There was no fresh air to breathe. The blanket covered most of her eyes, but even beneath it, all she could taste was smoke. Her skin burned with the heat of the air around her. As the man carried her through the house, she could hear him moan and yelp while the flames reached out to sting his bare arms. It was in his pain that Sophia finally recognized the voice.

  “Father, Father, put me down! Save yerself, Father!” But the creaking and crashing of their home’s collapsing walls overpowered the sound of her voice.

  Beneath the blanket, she could see only glimpses of their surroundings, but what she saw was enough. All around them, the house was falling apart. Large wooden beams crashed down and all the furniture was aflame. The walls had crumbled entirely. Her home was all she had ever known, and the only sanctuary she had, and now it was coming undone before her very eyes. Everything was in ruins. Even in her panic, she couldn’t help but wonder what had caused it. The wetness of the air in the highlands meant fires rarely started without purpose.

  Had this been her fault? Had she left a candle burning too close to a curtain? Had a passing traveler left a fire blazing too close to the dry grasses near her home? Whatever the cause of the chaos, she knew her life would never be the same.

  Her father struggled through the house. Beams fell in front of him, and he navigated the flames hurriedly. Sophia could sense his struggle. Their house was a small one, but in flames, everything could become a maze. Before she knew it, Sophia felt a rush of fresh air. She could see the faint glow of the moon as she felt herself tumbling toward the ground outside. She rolled off her father’s weathered body.

  In the light from the raging fire, Sophia could see that his skin was burnt and blistered. She crawled over to him, but before she could tend to him, her surroundings drew her gaze. The fields bordering her home were ablaze. The fire wasn’t only invading their home; it was spreading across the land around them. The flames climbed as high as the tallest trees. The damage, she knew, would be irreparable. The harvest, near-ready to be gathered, was buried beneath clouds of smoke. Everything around her was falling apart.

  “Father, are you alright? Father, answer me!”

  “Sophia my love, in this moonlight, ye have yer mother’s face.”

  “Father, ye cannae leave me now.”

  “Ye need tae go, Sophia. Ye need tae get outta here ‘fore the flames get ye. Leave yer father here. There’s nothing tae be done.” He coughed his last words, and his hand fell from Sophia’s face.

  She needn’t touch him to know his body hadn’t withstood the heat of the flames. There was nothing she could do for him. She held her palm out in front of his mouth, hoping for a tickle of breath. Instead, all she felt was the heat radiating from his burns.

  Her father was dead. Her home, her only family, all gone in a matter of moments. The grief poured through Sophia, and she let out a radiating sob. How had this happened? Her body ached with the sudden grief and the acute pain of the loss of her father. After Sophia lost her mother, she had struggled to recover, and the only reason she had was because of her father. Now, who would help ease her through this burdensome loss?

  Behind her, she could hear whimpers of fear. As much as she wanted to stay at her father’s side, she knew she needed to escape, or she would end up in the same position. Sophia looked around and saw the source of the sounds. The barn by their home was not yet on fire, but the building stood close enough to the flames that it would not take much longer before it, too, was engulfed. In a panic, she realized, the animals!

  Without a second thought, she stood up and ran towards the flames. She knew her mare, Moon, was inside.

  As she ran to the doors, she heard the sounds more clearly. Over the crackling of the blaze, she could hear yells and whimpers all colliding in one frightening din. The fire had caught many nearby homes and farms, all with families and animals inside. Sophia could see the smoke trailing for miles across the horizon. Sophia knew many of the families around her. She worried for all the young children that were trapped, or all the lonely widows. Was anyone there to help them? How many people would end up like her father, abandoned in the grass?

  She pushed these thoughts aside as she reached for the barn doors and saw how they swelled with heat. There was no turning back. After
losing her father, Sophia knew she needed to do all she could to save her mare. She pulled the doors open, and her fear rose before the frightful scene. Inside the barn, horses kicked frantically at their posts, sensing danger. Moon’s eyes glazed over with panic. Sophia was afraid to approach her; she knew in a situation like this, Moon was likely to be easily startled, and couldn’t be blamed if she attacked. Sophia stepped forward, moving slow and steady. The heat was making it difficult to keep her eyes open.

  “There, there, girl. It’s alright. I’m here for ye.” She knew she needed to move faster, but it would do no good to either of them if Moon kicked her down out of fear.

  She was only a few steps away from the rope, “I’ve got ye, girl, dinnae ye fret. I’m here.” She reached to remove the rope from the hook when the metal touched her hand, scalding the flesh on her fingers. “Ah!” She threw her hands back. Moon snorted, took a few steps and began stomping at the ground in front of her.

  “Sorry, girl, it’s still me; just with a bit of a burn is all.” She took a step closer. Moon’s eyes flashed rapidly between the open barn doors and her owner in front of her. Her ears returned to their normal position, and she took a step towards Sophia. She kicked the ground once more, but her eyes stayed trained on Sophia’s. Finally, reluctantly, she took a few steps forward and leaned into her owner.

  “Yes, there we go.” Sophia managed to untangle the knot of rope without touching the metal hook. She pulled Moon along. She moved about the barn, rushing to undo the remaining horses, being careful not to let her skin hit any exposed pieces of metal. The remaining horses, seeing Moon’s reaction to Sophia, managed to remain calm. As she freed each horse, they ran out of the barn doors quicker than she’d ever seen them move before. The panic fueled them forward, and no horse looked back.

  The only faithful horse had been Moon. Once she realized who was helping free her, Sophia knew she wouldn’t run off. As she freed the final horse, she looked back and saw the flames making their way up the back walls of the barn. Nearby hay bales sparked with an explosion, releasing embers. The fire spread on the ground, following the path of dry hay. It would take only moments for the entire barn to burst into flames, like her small house had. This was a barn built by her father’s hands, and like him, it would fade into nothing but a memory.

  “Let’s go, girl, we have tae get outta here!” With that, she grabbed a nearby saddle quilt and threw it over Moon’s back. She lifted herself up onto the horse and gave her a soft kick— not that Moon needed much convincing to leave the barn. As she galloped out into the open space, the barn began to burn brightly. The roof was swallowed by the heat, and beams collapsed, releasing embers into the night sky. The barn her father had built over the span of a year was undone in mere moments. Sophia looked back, and saw her home still burning. In a single night, she had lost all she had ever known. For now, there was nothing to do but head out and try to find safety.

  As Sophia and Moon rode on, they passed figures of people in a daze. Families. Men. Woman. The old and young. So many small houses, houses built by the people, burned to nothing but piles of smoldering ash. She heard children wailing in fright. The air around her weighed heavy with everyone’s fear. Nothing could have prepared them for a tragedy like this. With the sounds of pain ringing through the air, she knew there would be many lives lost to this night. There would be many who lived as well, but what would they have to help them start over? In a daze, Sophia followed the others. Where would she live now?

  Chapter Three

  Logan woke with a pounding in his temples. It wasn’t the pain, nor the exhaustion that roused him from his sleep; it was his dream. He saw his people running from a bright glow, and a terrible heat that doused him in sweat. The people ran towards him with fear in their eyes, but surprisingly, they didn’t seem to be afraid of him. Instead, they were asking for his help, their eyes pleading for him to do something to save them. Their screams felt far too real. As he rubbed his face, wondering why it was still so dark out, he heard it. The same noises from his dream: soft whimpers and cries, moans of pain and fear. Outside, he could hear crowds of people scrambling, screaming in panic, shouting for help.

  Logan jumped out of bed, ignoring the pain in his head. He reached for the dirk he kept hidden beneath his bedding. He rushed around the room, grabbing anything he thought he might need. He threw on his kilt, his cloak, his stockings. He wondered if his fears were becoming reality. Had his people finally decided to rebel? Was it Dillon causing this havoc? Whatever it was, he needed to find out quickly. As he prepared to leave, a pounding on his bedchamber door stopped him.

  “Logan, ye must come now! Yer people are in need.” Logan swung the door open, and there stood Alrick, Logan’s second-in-command.

  “What in the hell is going on?” Logan pushed past Alrick, “Tis an attack?”

  Alrick followed closely behind Logan, “Nae, tis a wildfire. We dinnae ken when it started, but half the houses on the outskirts of the land have been burned tae near nothin’. The flames, Logan, tis as if they started in more than one place. They moved so fast.”

  “A fire?” This was a response Logan wasn’t expecting. “Let’s head ou’!”

  Outside his bedchamber, the rest of the castle staff had also been forced to rise early. There was movement and bustling, but it felt directionless; everyone was waiting for their leader to give them guidance. As he left the room, people scrambled past him, looking only in front of them. Logan knew he needed to check on little Ava and his sisters. He rushed down the long halls. In his exhausted and confused state, he struggled to find each room. When he reached Ava’s bedchamber, he found her room empty. Surely she has tae be around here somewhere. He was beginning to smell the smoke and the air of burnt fields. Logan ran to Mildred’s room, hoping to find her—but alas, this room was empty too. If they weren’t in the rooms they had to be in the great hall or the commons area. Logan ran into a member of the kitchen staff.

  He grabbed her arms with a great force, shaking her. “Where is Ava? And my sisters?”

  “They’re in the commons room, Laird.” The woman trembled, unable to look in his eyes. Logan hadn’t grabbed her hard enough to bruise her, but it was obvious the whole scene had shaken the woman. This was only going to add to the rumors about him. Alrick reached out and pulled Logan’s arms off the woman.

  “They’re alright, Logan. Let’s go tae them.”

  Logan and Alrick rushed through the castle, making their way to the commons room. Thankfully, Mildred and Diana had Ava settled, as if waiting for him. Ava’s eyes were still heavy with sleep, but she was safe.

  “Are ye alright?” Logan asked Mildred.

  “Aye. We woke tae screaming. I woke Diana and told her tae get the child. We rushed dow’ here. What’s going on Logan?”

  “There’s been a fire. I’m going tae get it handled, but I need the three of ye tae stay inside where it’s safe. I need tae see how much a’ the land has been lost.” Mildred nodded in response.

  “Stay with yer Aunts, li’l one, aye?”

  Ava simply nodded in response, unaware of just how much was at stake for Logan in that moment. Logan turned and left his family behind him. He needed to figure out how much was lost, and he needed to think of a solution quick. This was the perfect moment to show his people he still cared about their well-being. He wanted to earn back their respect and admiration. While tragedies were burdensome and difficult to deal with, they also brought people together. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise, an opportunity to truly change his ways. He knew his wife would have seen it that way.

  Logan turned to Alrick, “Show me the damage.”

  * * *

  With the pressure of his estate’s wellbeing weighing heavily on him, Logan and Alrick rode off towards the outer homes. Outside, the smoke stretched as far as Logan could see. The once fertile green hills and fields lay in ruins. The land that surrounded the main castle looked black, as if it was made of nothing more than burnt logs. Where
there had once been small but sturdy barns and houses, there now stood burning piles of rubble and smoldering wood. People lined the edges of the field like ants, each carrying only what they could on their backs. Their somber faces were smeared with ash and soot.

  Alrick stopped his horse and looked over to Logan. “I warned ye. We dinnae ken what caused it, but whatever it was it moved quick as a whip.” Logan could think of no response, and simply nodded.

  They rode on, surveying the damage. Many farmhouses were completely burnt. People sat in the empty fields, still choking on the smoke that filled their lungs. He could hear the soft weeping that followed such a loss. Even the surrounding living trees seemed to quiver and sway, as if mourning alongside his people. Logan spoke to none of them. He knew he should try to tell them they would all be fine, but right now, he could do nothing but try and think of a solution. He had no energy left to be gentle with them.

  The harvest was near ruined; much of the fields were burnt. All the time spent preparing the soil had gone to waste; it would take twice as many men and twice as much time to pull out the dead roots. Burnt fields could be fertile, but it took too much time to get them back to that state. Thankfully, their estate was well stocked, and some of the harvest had survived. All Logan needed to focus on now was figuring out where to house his people. He had some ideas, but he needed to prepare first.