IntoEternity (19 page)

“I need no help hunting down Duncan. I have had much
practice in that endeavor.”

“Duncan is missing? Why didn’t you tell me? The poor baby.
He must be scared to death, perhaps lost in the woods.”

Alexander’s roar of laughter echoed across the courtyard.

“Thank you, Gusty! I needed something to lighten my mood
before I set out to find that little scoundrel and skin him alive.”

“Why would you do that? The poor child is lost, for God’s sake!”

“Nay, not lost. Run away is more like it. He has been
pulling this same stunt since his father—my cousin Allister—was murdered. It is
as if he were tempting Fate. His adventuring has taken him onto Ross holdings,
MacKay holdings and Sinclair holdings. He has even gone so far as to roam
across Gunn holdings. The lad’s recklessness is going to lead him into a great
deal of trouble one of these days.”

“Oh.” Gusty sighed. “I am sorry to cause you any further
problems, Alexander. I will not argue with you about this. But if you do not
return soon, I just might run away so you will have to come after me.”

Alexander shook his head in amusement as he remounted his
horse. “You would not make it far.”

“Oh? And why is that, my lord husband?” she asked through
gritted teeth, obviously unhappy.

“You would lose your way before you made it more than a few
steps into the woods. Women have a terrible sense of direction.”

He turned and walked his horse to the outer gate before she
could reply but she followed behind him.

“What makes you think women have no sense of direction? I
have never been lost in my life.”

“Aye you have.”

“When was that?”

He stopped, leaned down to grasp her about the waist and
lifted her onto his lap.

“You’ve been lost most of your life, Gusty, until I found
you and brought you home again.”

Tears blinded her as she clutched at his shoulders and
lifted her lips to his. Alexander tasted the saltiness of her tears on his lips
when his mouth took possession of hers in a kiss that was meant to remind her
of just how much she loved him.

“I will return for you shortly and then we will go home.”

Three long days slipped by and still there was no word from
Alexander. Gusty kept herself occupied by getting better acquainted with her
parents. They could not seem to get enough of her company and she found herself
being smothered by their affection and advice. From the moment she awoke every
morning until she retired each night she found one or the other of her parents
waiting on her. But secretly she had to admit she enjoyed the attention.

The first thing Malcolm Sinclair wanted his daughter to
understand was how it came about that she and her brother Michael had been put
into the care of Maeve and Hagen, her so-called grandparents. He recited his
history with her mother and Isabelle’s sister, Imogen, the woman who was his
wife. After Gusty listened to the story she could well understand why he took
Isabelle as his mistress. The children they conceived had been a bonus in their
relationship. But it was a bonus they were not able to expose. It was too
dangerous to announce that he had two babes by his mistress. His wife was a
very jealous woman. Despite Malcolm’s attempts to keep his children safe Imogen
had eventually found out about his affair with her sister and tried to take her
revenge out on Gusty and Michael.

Maeve and Hagen had spirited them away just in time and
Malcolm praised the old couple for their loyalty to him and for their
intelligence in handling the dangerous situation that could have meant the
deaths of them all. Tears filled her eyes as Gusty listened to her father
recount the story of the night he had ridden to the cottage hidden in the woods,
expecting to find his children murdered in their beds. But instead he found
that his two old friends had taken it upon themselves to rescue his children
and hide them away for their own safety. He told her how relieved and yet also
how heartbroken he had been when he realized it might be many years before he
would see her and Michael again.

Gusty admitted she had no memory of her early childhood. She
only recalled the years she lived with Maeve and Hagen and Michael in the
future. With sadness in his eyes he told her about the first four years of her
life as he remembered them. She was so moved she threw herself into her father’s
arms and wept tears of happiness that she had been born to such a loving, brave
man.

Though Gusty did not understand all the rules of society
just yet, she knew enough to realize her father had made an enormous sacrifice.
In protecting his children from the insane jealousy of his wife, he had given
up the joy of watching them grow from babes into adulthood. But he had also
taken into account the politically greedy people who would have stopped at
nothing to use his children to achieve their own plans.

As the only male offspring of Malcolm Sinclair, Michael was
in line to inherit the title of clan chieftain and Gusty was considered a great
prize, able to bring her husband into a powerful position in the clan. For
those reasons, their reappearance and his acknowledgment of them as his heirs
was going to cause outbursts of jealousy and hatred in some quarters and even a
motive to murder in others. Clan Sinclair would, of course, accept them because
of their father but several others who had thought themselves in line for the
leadership of the clan would not be so willing to receive them due to their
illegitimacy. Malcolm Sinclair wanted to make sure his daughter understood the
seriousness of her situation so she would be cautious of the people she would
be coming into contact with when it became known she was his true daughter.

Gusty took everything her father told her about her high
station in life with a grain of salt. Although amazed to find out her parents
were alive, if she were to live her life as they dictated, it would mean living
in total seclusion and constant fear. That she would not do. She was a modern,
independent woman, quite capable of taking care of herself and she had the
accolades and certificates from all those self-defense classes to prove it.

She smiled at her father, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek
and assured him she would take everything he had told her into consideration.
He stopped her before she left him and made her promise to be on her guard and
never to leave the safety of the convent walls without an escort. Her life in
the twelfth century was becoming a disturbing existence to say the least.

Gusty’s father kept her company as she made several forays
into the countryside around the abbey when she was not busy helping her mother
in her hospice. Gusty truly enjoyed the long rides they took and the time she
and Malcolm spent together. But in the morning on the fourth day after
Alexander had left her, Malcolm had to leave to attend to his clan duties. He
promised to come back to visit her soon. But when she invited him to come to
the Sutherland keep after she settled in there, he hedged a bit before giving
her a vague rejoinder that left her puzzled.

“It may be a while before you are settled in your husband’s
keep, Augusta. I need more time. Time with my daughter before I give her into
the hands of another man. Do not hate me for being selfish in this matter.”

“I know you are not happy with Alexander handfasting with me
but he is mine. And I am staying with him. I am sorry this makes you unhappy,
Father. You will just have to get used to the idea. That is just the way it
is.”

Gusty hugged him tight and he kissed her cheek roughly.

“I will see you soon, daughter mine.” He hesitated and with
a look of regret in his eyes he shook his head and turned to mount up.

She watched as he rode away without a backward glance. Gusty
attributed his strange behavior to him feeling guilty because he had to leave
her and her mother so soon.

After her father left she spent time with her mother in the
convent herbal distillery and hospice, volunteering to do some of the nursing. The
number of people who came to the abbey seeking medical help amazed her.
Isabelle’s reputation as a great healer had spread far and wide. Gusty should
not have been surprised that her mother enjoyed such fame, she was after all an
intelligent, gentle woman and she had spent a great many years perfecting her
talents. Day after day, Gusty watched as her mother counseled and nursed the
poor who came to her for advice and medicine for their ailments. Isabelle cared
for everybody with unending dedication and patience.

When she still had no word from Alexander, Gusty decided
that the next time he made one of these jaunts—no matter the reason—she would
accompany him. Regardless what his arguments might be, she would not let him
talk her out of it. He swore he would return to her as soon as he could and here
a week had passed since he left and still she waited for him. Her patience was
quickly running thin.

By the end of the week Gusty was so keyed up she decided to
take the pleasant walk she and her father had shared before he left. After
packing a small bag of food and a skin of water, she walked out the front gate
of the abbey. She lifted her face to the warmth of the sun and took in a deep
breath of sweet air before making her way around the high wall of the abbey.
There she found the narrow path she and her father had taken that led up a
small hill. All around, white and purple wildflowers added splashes of color to
the scenery. Leisurely she made her way across the high meadow above the abbey
where a small herd of sheep grazed in the thick green grass while a young
herder slept under the shadows of a tall tree. As she turned and looked back
down at the buildings below she sighed. What a peaceful, beautiful setting…a
landscape created by a master painter.

When she reached the far side of the meadow Gusty continued
on, making her way along the barely discernible path through the shady forest.
Once she reached the meandering stream flowing beneath the tall oaks and
billowing willows at the lower end of the valley she would indulge herself and
do a little skinny-dipping.

The bright, warm sun made the forest sparkle like a
fairyland. Under the streams of light filtering down through the branches of
the towering trees, Gusty whirled and danced a few steps as she hummed a tune. She
imagined the flickering lights through the leaves were small fairies and
sprites, peeking out from behind every bush and tree trunk, hiding in the
shadows. A feeling of enchantment settled over her as she continued to walk
through the lush green forest. She shivered as her imagination ran wild and after
a while she nearly talked herself into believing she was no longer alone. She
could see how the people of this time came to believe in things such as fairies
and changelings, brownies and goblins.

As these thoughts crossed her mind, she rounded a curve in
the path and found an old man sitting upon a fallen log at the side of the
trail. Stopping short, she glanced around before looking back at him. A shiver
of uncertainty raced up her spine, making her hesitate. Perhaps it would be
prudent for her to turn around and make her way back to the abbey. But he’d
already seen her—to turn away now would seem rude.

“He’s just an old man,” she muttered as she approached him.
“I’ll just say hello and goodbye, just to be polite.”

He seemed unconcerned as she made her way up the path toward
him.

Perhaps her fertile imagination was working overtime but the
closer she got to the withered old man the more he resembled a gargoyle.
Something about his presence bothered her and a shiver of apprehension swept
over her, leaving goose bumps on her arms. She came to a halt but as she began
to take a step backward he greeted her.

“Hello, lassie. It is good to finally meet ye.”

His words, spoken in an aged and raspy voice, stilled her
movements.

“Good day, sir. Do I know you?” Gusty queried cautiously.

A long walking stick rested on his lap. He lifted it to set
one end on the ground and she took a step back. He unfolded his legs, rising
shakily to his feet, and with the help of the cane he straightened to his full
height, surprisingly standing much taller than she had expected. In fact, the
man was just a few inches shorter than Alexander was.

“Aye ye have the look of your mother. But I would wager ye
have the character of your father.” He didn’t sound too pleased about the idea.

“You know who I am? How do you know my parents?”

“Ah, lassie, I know ye. Though it was only recently that I
was reminded of your existence. Aye, I know ye and yours very well.”

“Then you know my mother lives at the abbey and at the
moment my father is also there.” She did not think a small lie would be out of
order.
Especially if it gives me a little safety net.
What was the
likelihood of meeting someone out there in the woods who claimed to know her?
Nothing
about this feels like a chance encounter.

“My husband is due to arrive anytime now.” She glanced back
down the path, acting as if she was expecting someone.

The old man’s eyes widened. Apparently she had startled him.
Maybe he did not know as much about her as he claimed.

“Your husband, ye say? I was not informed ye had wed.”

“We were handfasted not long ago. I don’t see why you would
have been told about it. You are a stranger—I don’t know you from Adam.” Gusty
informed him rudely. The old man made her nervous.

The cunning smile that spread across his wrinkled old face
looked as foreign to his features as did the suddenly hard, speculating look he
raked over her.

“Ah, good, it was only a handfasting.”

Two large ruffians suddenly appeared at the edge of the
clearing. Gusty watched them in alarm, eyes wide as they moved stealthily up
behind the old man.

“Look out!” She leaped forward, placing herself between him
and the two men. “I’m warning you,” she yelled, “my husband and his men are
just down the trail and they will be here any minute. Turn around and go back the
way you came.”

But her words went unheeded. The men split up, one moving to
her left as the other went to her right. She tried to keep her eyes on both of
them but as the man to her right moved in close, his partner jumped her from
behind. Two large arms wrapped around her waist. Instinct took over and the techniques
she’d learned at all those self-defense classes came rushing back to her. She
leaned forward and jabbed her left elbow back into her attacker’s stomach while
punching with her right fist and smashing him in his face. The man howled and
fell back, holding his bleeding nose. She turned and kicked him in his groin. He
went down, clutching himself with one hand, but he managed to grab hold of her
long braid and he dragged her to the ground with him as he writhed in pain. She
grasped two good handfuls of the sensitive flesh on the underside of his upper
arms and pinched with all her might. Her attacker squealed like a stuck pig and
released his hold on her hair to attend the torn flesh of his armpits.

As Gusty stumbled back, breathing hard, her hesitation cost
her as the second assailant seized her by the wrist and yanked her toward him.
She pulled her wrist back hard, and in a waving motion she twisted it toward
her body. Her attacker lost his hold.

Gusty turned to run but something heavy crashed down on her skull.
She staggered a step then fell to the ground, her vision exploding in a
kaleidoscope of colors. From her position on the ground, just before blackness
claimed her completely, she looked up into the evil eyes of the old man she’d
tried to protect. Her gaze fell on the cane in his hand and understanding
dawned.

“Ye damn fools! Ye let a wee lassie get the best of ye! Ha!
For the love of God, pick her up and throw her on the horse!”

Gusty closed her eyes and sank into the dark oblivion of
unconsciousness.

* * * * *

The jarring ride eventually aroused Gusty from her dazed
stupor. She sat on a horse, slumped in front of a very large and rather odorous
body, her hands tied tightly in front of her and her legs lashed together with
a piece of leather that went under the horse’s belly. She shifted and winced as
her stiff, sore muscles protested. Her head throbbed from the blow she had
sustained.