Isle of Mull 03 - To Love a Warrior (21 page)

When the name left Ronan’s lips, Shoney faltered. Silence resounded throughout the hall.

“There has never been a witch,” Ronan said, his voicing growing in conviction. “Only Shoney. My Shoney,” he said softly. Then he continued but his vehemence echoed throughout the hall. “If there are to be consequences, then I will accept any penalty from the clan. ‘Twas I who forced the lie from her lips. If the full truth be known, Shoney wanted to tell ye her true identity from the very beginning.”

Ronan’s confession stirred a restlessness among the people, yet they continued to keep their own council.

Nellore moved to stand, to speak out, but Garik stopped her. “Give the people a chance,” he whispered. Then out of the corner of Nellore’s eye, she saw someone begin to walk through the crowd. It was Mary.

Mary stood before the clan but did not speak. Then a smile curved her lips and with a hand on her hip she said, “I’ve a frightful time keeping my children away from that old hut anyway.”

A burst of nervous laughter escaped Nellore’s lips. Of course Mary would begin with humor. There were a few other uneasy chuckles, but they tapered off and silence once more settled over the gathering.

“Saints above, what is wrong with the lot of ye?” Mary shouted as she glowered at the crowd. “Two summers past, my Gordon could hardly move, his bowels pained him so. He could neither eat nor drink without his body seizing with pain. He couldn’t lift the plow. I would have lost him were it not for our lady. Because of her healing skills, he is himself again.”

Mary’s voice became louder, passion filling each word. “She did more than heal his body. She came to my home to see after his comfort, to make sure I was holding up, and to see that my children were fed.”

Then Mary turned and faced Shoney. “I care not what name ye go by. Ye’ve been my savior and friend, my comfort and joy. Ye’re the lady of this clan, and there is naught that could ever change that.”

Shoney’s face crumpled with tears. Emboldened by Shoney’s response, Mary turned about and stormed toward the villagers. “She is our lady,” Mary cried out. “The same woman who has treated our wounds, healed our illnesses, celebrated our triumphs, and consoled our broken hearts.”

Nellore stood then, overwhelmed with emotion and joined Mary. “Who here does not owe our lady their life or their son’s or daughter’s life?” Nellore said. “Who here has not sought our lady’s comfort or advice?” Nellore whirled around then and looked Shoney square in the eye. “If our acceptance has a price, then surely Shoney has paid in full.”

Whispers hummed throughout the hall. Nellore turned on her heel and joined Mary in scanning the gathering with expectant eyes. At last, a cottar, who also lived in the valley, stood.

“I’ve always longed to fish those waters off the Western cliffs. I’d be willing to wager they are teeming with fish. If there is no witch, then what’s stopping us?” he said to the clan. Then he turned his eyes to Shoney, and his voice cracked with emotion when he spoke, “I will never forget how ye saved my leg when the plow ran it over. I was just a lad,” he said, turning once more to address the clan. “I owe our lady my life.” He whirled around then and stormed toward the high dais. Kneeling before Shoney he said, “I owe ye my life.”

He looked behind him at the people who still clung to fear and doubt. “What are ye waiting for,” he shouted. “Stand ye fools, and show our lady the respect she deserves.”

Garik rose and then Cormac and Hamish. In the next moment, every MacKinnon warrior was marching toward the dais. Then, together, they knelt, and with heads bowed they pledged their love and devotion to their lady. Shoney’s hands rushed to cover her face as a sob tore from her lips. Ronan pulled his wife close to his heart while tears ran freely down his creased face.

One by one, the villagers fell in line behind the warriors, each member of the clan proudly swearing fealty to their lady. Shoney’s hands fell away from her eyes, revealing her tear-stained cheeks. “Thank ye,” she said with her hand on her heart. “I fear my heart will burst,” she said, smiling through her tears.

Then she stepped down from the dais and reached her hand to Gordon whose turn it was to kneel and pledge his oath of loyalty. She bid him stand.

“My lady,” he said to her. Fresh tears fell from her shimmering gaze. She wrapped frail arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. Nellore watched as Shoney moved her way through the room, hugging her family to her heart, crying tears of hard-won joy. Before long, Shoney’s tears had stopped while she enjoyed the laughter and love pouring forth from her clan. The spirit of the occasion shifted from one of solemnity to that of great celebration. Pipers played and the ale flowed freely, but when Shoney at last stood before Nellore, fresh tears flooded her silver eyes. She pulled Nellore into a tight embrace. “I am my mother’s daughter again,” she whispered.

“Shoney, daughter of Brethia,” Nellore said. “From this day on, your mother will be remembered.”

“Oh, my sweet lass,” Shoney cried. “I knew the night that I found ye out there on the moors that ye would change my life. My vision has been fulfilled, Nellore. Ye’ve brought peace to our land, peace to my heart, and peace to my mother’s rest.”

Nellore stood beside Garik looking out over the Western cliffs of Mull. Fishing vessels rocked to the rhythm of the waves.

“Nellore,” a voice called. She turned to see Hamish holding up a basket of fish before he opened the round door of the hut, formerly belonging to the Witch of Dervaig. Ronan and Shoney had decided the hut should be used as a rest stop for the weary fishermen who were excited by the prospect of discovering the untried waters of Mull. Many had come to witness the new activity.

“What’s next?” Nellore said as she wrapped her arms around Garik’s waist and shifted her gaze back out to sea.

Garik threw his head back with laughter. “Is singlehandedly bringing peace to your clan not enough?” he asked. “I would have thought you might long for a good rest.”

“Actually, I wish to journey to the Orkney Islands,” she said.

His eyes widened in surprise before he raised a skeptical brow. “Nellore, you’ve never set foot from these shores. Are you certain you wish to journey as far away as my home?”

She nodded. “I’ve never been more certain. Ye’re my husband. I want to know ye as ye know me. I want to meet your family, learn your language, see your favorite haunts when ye were a lad.”

“Saints above,” he said. “I would love nothing more. Only…”

“What?” she said.

“Here I thought I was done asking your father for favors. Now I must ask if I can take ye away beyond the very boundaries of Scotland.”

She smiled up at him ruefully. “The Speiring night is over,” she said. “I am your wife. Ye no longer have to ask my father permission for anything. I belong to ye.”

He smiled down at her. “Nay,” he said, pulling her close. “We belong to each other.”

“How soon do we leave?” she said, her green eyes dancing with excitement.

“If you truly wish to leave Mull, we will have to strike out before the end of summer to ensure we reach the Orkney Islands before winter.”

Movement caught her eye. Nellore glanced over her shoulder and saw her parents, Shoney, and Ronan approach.

“Wheest,” she said. “My parents are coming.”

“We will have to tell them at some point,” he said with a chuckle.

“I ken,” she whispered. “’Tis just they look so happy. Wheest, they are upon us.”

“Beautiful evening,” Garik said when joined by Brenna, Duncan, Shoney, and Ronan
“Beautiful indeed,” Shoney replied. “’Tis the kind of evening that can stir dreams of journeying to faraway places,” she said, winking at Nellore.

Nellore gazed into her lady’s knowing silver eyes and smiled. Then she peered past Garik at her parents. “Where is Rose?” she asked.

Duncan smirked and jerked his head, motioning behind them. Nellore turned and there was Rose and, standing only a few feet away was Logan, both looking everywhere except at each other.

“Och, ye two,” Nellore said. “Just go on then and kiss each other.”

Rose blushed crimson. Logan cursed, but then with a sharp intake of breath he turned and crushed Rose against his chest. Rose’s arms came around his neck. They stared at each other but only for a moment, and then both surged forward. They kissed with wild abandon as though starved for the other’s touch. When at last Logan pulled away, he turned to the couples who had shifted their gazes from the writhing sea to the newly writhing couple.

“Duncan,” Logan said breathlessly. “I am marrying your daughter.”

“Are ye now?” Duncan answered with a wide grin on his face.

“Aye,” Logan said, pulling Rose away. “Tomorrow,” he called back.

Nellore threw her head back with laughter. “I believe we may have set a new precedent,” she said to Garik. “Soon everyone will be marrying without first posting the banns.”

“When you know what you want, why wait?” Garik said, his voice deep and unhurried.

“I am looking at what I want,” Nellore said, staring into her husband’s wintry gaze. He pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her lips. Then they turned back, joining Shoney and Ronan and Brenna and Duncan, and together they watched the sun set over the Isle of Mull.

About the Author
Historical Romance author Lily Baldwin loves writing, Scotland, her wonderful husband and beautiful young daughter—though not necessarily in that order. She has a BA in anthropology from the University of New Hampshire, and an MA in International Studies from Birmingham University in the UK. She daydreams constantly, and gets her best story ideas while running; she is even training for a half-marathon. She also finds inspiration in Nature, a quality revealed through the powerful description and drama in her books. Currently TO BEWITCH A HIGHLANDER, HIGHLAND THUNDER, and TO LOVE A WARRIOR (Books 1-3 of the Isle of Mull series) are available, and Lily is also the author of A JEWEL IN THE VAULTS~one of the seven original novellas included in the Scrolls of Cridhe Bundle by the Guardians of the Cridhe (available now). Other Guardians of Cridhe authors include Suzan Tisdale, Tarah Scott, Ceci Giltenan, Kathryn Lynn Davis, Sue-Ellen Welfonder, and Kate Robbins.

Lily lives in New England with her cherished husband and daughter.

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Other Books by Lily:

To Bewitch a Highlander (Isle of Mull Book 1)
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Highland Thunder (Isle of Mull Book 2)
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The Scrolls of Cride Vol. One, Highland Wind
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