Highland Persuasion (The MacLomain Series- Early Years) (9 page)

Iosbail had watched where he put her blade and his. She was, as always, one step ahead of a man. That he chose to strip down and swim in front of her was nothing new. In her long time on Earth, she’d seen many men do such. What she didn’t expect was him to climb up in front of her and stand in such a position that a lass would have to possess the power of a thousand goddesses not to see what one god had blessed this mortal man with.

Bloody Sinclairs!

It was impossible to look away as his long, lithe body disappeared beneath the water. Eyes narrowed, Iosbail could think of only one means of revenge. Purposefully waiting until he resurfaced she began to undress. Did he glance her way? Nay! Regardless, the cool air felt scrumptious so she removed the last of her clothing and dove in.

When she surfaced it was to Alexander’s grinning face. “I’m proud of you.”

“Misplaced,” Iosbail replied and coasted on her back giving him a full eyeful of her breasts.

“Nay.”
He did the same, giving her a full view of his chest, hips, cock and long, muscled legs. Despite the cold water the Sinclair had nothing to be embarrassed about.

“You’ll never get us there alive, you do realize that?”

Alexander relaxed and closed his eyes. “When I set to do something, I see it through. Have no doubt.”

“You and Shamus put too much in the idea that Adlin will welcome you because you’re with me.”

The Sinclair said nothing but turned and swam. Iosbail scrubbed at her body and scowled. How dare
they
!
Yet what a thing to find herself in these circumstances.
Again she wondered how much her brother knew.

Iosbail floated and contemplated.

Shamus.
It was
really
Shamus.
That young boy from so long ago.

It was hard to imagine that the beginning of her life would resurface now, so very, very many years later. She’d lived what most would consider eighteen lifetimes only to have the lifetime that mattered most return.

Did it surprise her? Yes and no. Iosbail understood that magic and time-travel could easily change all a person thought they knew about themselves. To date, it had never happened to her like this. Nobody had ever traveled back nor forward to seek her out… to remind her how much they cared.

While her rage was a thorough thing so too was her sense of adventure.

Iosbail understood that she still had so much to learn but that she'd embarked on something far more exciting than anticipated. There was still plenty of time to have her revenge. Alexander and Shamus thought they had her ruled by the fact they possessed magic and she was lacking. But she knew better. These men had no idea how to be violent and own another through magic. Therefore they were no real threat.

But they were exceptionally interesting!

Thump.

Iosbail came to her feet not that far from Alexander. Where had that sound come from?

Shamus, peering down from a rock above, said, “I sent you to hunt not bathe!”

Alexander grinned. “Go get Caitroina so that she might bathe as well. Then we’ll eat.”

He got no argument from the Irishman and an hour later, all bathed; they sat around a spit ripe with cooked fish. Though they’d all become comrades on this quest nobody spoke. Too long and unsure was the journey ahead and too unknown the company. Yet when they started the long walk it was with less apprehension and a sense of security.

The Norman lass knew nothing of magic but simply followed her mistress. For that, Iosbail was eternally grateful. Alexander’s attitude was comfortable and easy. As the day wore on she realized despite the power he thought he had over them, he showed none of it. His comments and directions were of a means to keep them safe.

Neither Shamus nor Alexander mentioned again what they’d discussed the previous eve.

It was the next morn as they made their way deeper into the wild and thick forests cuddled between the mountains that Iosbail once more tuned her ears to the sound of nature. She heard not the call of the wild but the whistles and clicks used by the clans when they spoke amongst the trees and wind.

When a Highlander broke free from the woodland wearing a different plaid from the Sinclair’s, Iosbail quickly realized that they’d arrived at the Mason’s clan. Though a young tribe she knew well the mark they’d eventually have on the world. A sept of the Sinclair’s it didn’t shock her that they’d come to Alexander’s aide. Word traveled quickly in Scotland. Most would know that the king had ordered his cousin dead. 

“Free Masons,” she murmured as several horsemen surrounded them.
“Thus far.”

Iosbail couldn’t help but admire how they put themselves in peril by welcoming Alexander’s small group. Not many save her own would openly defy the king of Scotland.

Nothing was said as they were swung onto horseback behind various men.

“Jameson’s the name, lass,” said her horseman.

Iosbail said nothing. She had no desire to introduce herself to anyone yet.

Eventually they arrived in a small village with a larger thatched hut at its center surrounded by smaller huts. In all sense of the word, this clan was terribly poor. Women and children mingled here and there. Big stone blocks surrounded their small encampment.

When at last they unhorsed, Jameson bowed, “Much welcome, Iosbail of the Broun clan.”

She lowered her eyes briefly but nothing else. “Much thanks.”

Formalities obviously honored, Jameson turned and embraced Alexander and Shamus like long lost brothers. “Too long!” he cried.

Smiles wide, the men followed Jameson into the center hut. Iosbail, disjointed and not quite sure of their situation, saw to Caitriona. The poor
lass was
wide eyed and afraid.

“Come with me,” Iosbail said softly when
a Mason lass
nodded at her to follow. “We’re safe.”

Relieved, Caitriona followed them into a small cottage nearby. Pleased, Iosbail accepted a change of clothing for her and her lady. Brown and functional, the clothing felt like the first normal thing she’d worn in ages. It was only when the lass led her and Caitriona out of the cottage into a stone tunnel lit by torches that Iosbail began to gawk at the absolutely stunning stonemanship around them. Aye, she knew what the Masons would eventually be capable of but how could all of this be possible this early in history?

Iosbail never released Caitroina’s hand as they walked down the stone stairs. The descent was surprisingly long. Small torches lined their journey to a place even a five hundred year old witch could not imagine. Because of that, she never stopped paying attention to details. Every marking on the stone meant something, every slash and cross on the floor, another. If there was a curve carved into a nook, she noticed. If a loop was scratched into the center of the ceiling above, she noticed.

Still, they traveled down.

When they reached a large, oval torch-lit room at the bottom, Iosbail squeezed Caitriona’s hand and stood taller. She need not have the gift now to know that this was a place of not only great but very old magic. Alexander and Shamus were already there; dressed not in kilts but in the same long, drab brown robes, each with a satchel and a weapon. A chill ran through her.

Iosbail knew in an instant. “We travel to
Leodhais
.”

Alexander, far more intimidating than she expected him capable, walked to her and she released Caitriona’s hand. Not to take his hand but to clench her fists in frustration.

“The Outer Hebrides
await
. You ken the meaning?”

“You mean to travel through the Hebrides to Argyll.”

The Sinclair nodded. “The standing stones will make our journey far shorter.”

“For some,” Iosbail hissed, angry.
“For most, nay!”

“For us, aye,” Alexander said and turned, not giving her a chance to respond. “Come now.”

“I will not.”

When he turned Iosbail saw not the steely determination of his eyes but fiery silver. Her breath whooshed from her chest. Her knees grew weak. In one look he nearly sucked the humanity from her. Furious she shook her head.
“Nay!”

“Aye!”
He roared.

The ground rumbled. The cave walls shook. It took sheer will power not to fall to his feet, not to cower beneath his strength. Her eyes widened. Alexander had great magic. When was it exactly she assumed he didn’t? Iosbail ground her teeth. Mayhap it’d been when he was posing for her on a rock with his muscles strong and his cock long.

Bloody Sinclairs!

“’Tis one of the most dangerous places in Scotland and well you know it,” she said.

“We willnae be there long.”

Iosbail shook her head. “The clans there are of the wildest, most violent and strongest in the Viking magi. Even if I had my powers, you, Shamus and I would not nearly possess the strength to fight them. ‘Tis with good reason I’ve steered clear of the spot for five hundred years even though I am immortal!”

Alexander was quite clearly stuck in his ways. “I know precisely what and who you are, Iosbail. With or without your powers, the four of us do not have the means or protection to travel so far alone. We will pass through the Hebrides but briefly. From there we travel to the Cowal Peninsula where the MacLomains will no doubt be waiting. This decision is final.”

 “Fool,” she muttered. Even though Iosbail was up for a good adventure, this truly tested her limits. But being left behind wasn’t an option. If for no other reason than that she didn’t want Caitriona to be on her own with them.

Or so she tried to convince herself.

The Norman lass’s eyes were round as saucers as Iosbail took her hands and explained gently, “We will travel far in a short time. When we do you will smell sweet fire, feel lightheaded and hear what sounds to be thunder ripping apart the whole of Scotland. It will be a petrifying experience.”

Shamus and Alexander stared at Iosbail, incredulous.

“Was that your way of comforting her, lassie?” Shamus asked.

Iosbail looked from the men to Caitriona and back. “The
lass deserves
the truth. She will follow me regardless.”

Alexander rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Brouns.”

Caitriona nodded in acquiesce when Shamus looked at her in question.

“Fine then. ‘
Tis time to go,” Alexander said.

Jameson appeared wearing long dark robes with a small symbol emblazoned across a wrap. Like his clan, this masonic symbol would endure the generations and travel the world. It would be as shrouded in mystery a thousand years from now as it was this day. “The new moon soon reaches its zenith. Be ready, my friends.”

Iosbail closed her eyes. She knew well the power of such a moon. Unlike a full moon, it harnessed and embraced change. Even this far below the ground vibrations filled the air. Only five stones stood in the center of the room, each about five feet tall, each smooth and angled. If lines were drawn, they would form a pentagram. She held Caitriona’s hand and said, “Have no fear.”

The four stood in the center of the stones, Jameson outside.

When the chanting began, Iosbail by instinct joined. Having left out what Caitriona would actually see, everything else they began to experience was exactly as she had described it. Much like when they’d jumped off the cliff days before their hands were ripped apart. Wind whipped. Thunder boomed. The air grew first thick then thin. Black clouds twisted around her and it felt like the floor dropped from beneath.