To Bewitch a Highlander (Isle of Mull series) (31 page)

The badge of the Mackinnon, a fir branch, was suspended high against the starry sky. There was a stillness in the air and an eerie silence, which was broken suddenly as the branch burst into bright flames. And in the distance, Shoney heard a single warrior sound the battle cry of the MacKinnon, Remember the death of King Alpin
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Shoney snapped back to full awareness. She did not understand the significance of her vision but divining the truth would have to wait until both she and the babe were warm and dry. As if to hasten her onward, the storm intensified. Lightening slashed once more through the clouds and thunder shook the ground, creating a din like that of an army on the move. The baby whimpered in response, but Shoney pressed it close and said, “Hush now, be not afraid little one. ‘Tis only Taranis, the thunder god. He is making himself heard this night.”

As silent as she could, Shoney entered the great hall and sat with the child by the fire. Not surprising, there were no traces of plaid or markers to hint at the origins of the baby, just small strips of wool. The child was likely left to the faeries because of some deformity or imperfection, but a quick examination showed she was a perfect baby girl and only days old. Shoney wrapped the babe in a clean plaid. Then she cradled her close and fed her some goat’s milk.

“You will be called Nellore”, Shoney told her as she drank hungrily, “feral one.”

At dawn, Shoney awoke still seated in the chair with Nellore cradled in her arms.

“You have been busy, my dear.”

Shoney looked up to see Ronan staring down at her with a bemused, and slightly bewildered, look on his face. Shoney spoke of how she had come to find Nellore and gave Ronan an account of her vision.

He paced the length of the hall, clearly needing time to absorb all she had said. His pace quickened and his plaid swirled about his knees as he appeared increasingly more agitated. After a while, he looked at Shoney, his face strained with frustration.

“But what is the significance? What does this mean?” he asked.

Shoney laid the sleeping infant on a pallet and walked over to where Ronan stood, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I know not the fullness of meaning, Ronan. The only thing I am certain of is that the destiny of our clan and the destiny of this small child are somehow crossed.”

“But for good or for ill?”

“I do not know”, she answered.

He brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek and tilted her head as he placed a lingering kiss on her lips. For a moment, Shoney forgot Nellore and the future of the clan. All she saw and felt was the man before her. Age had only increased his appeal. His features were more rugged and handsome than ever, and the streaks of silver at his temples contrasted against the amber of his eyes, making them even brighter.

“What would you have me do?” His words brought Shoney back to reality.

“Find a good family to raise her, one that will love and cherish her.”

Ronan walked to where the baby slept and knelt down beside her. He gently pressed a kiss to Nellore’s brow. “I have a family in mind—Ewan MacKinnon.”

Shoney considered Ewan and his lovely wife, Brenna. It was well known that Brenna longed for a child but was unable to conceive. They would make fine parents for Nellore, but would the clan be suspicious of a child taken from the Daione Shi Knoll?

“Will the clan accept Nellore?

“Do not fret, my love. I have already considered the problem of her origins. You know as well as I that the village women gossip about Brenna.”

“Aye, I have even heard it said that Brenna is barren because the faery queen is jealous of her beauty and so makes changelings of her unborn.”

“We shall bring Nellore to Ewan’s home under the cover of night. We do not need to tell them your story, only that she now belongs to them. We will of course provide them with an appropriate tale to share with the clan.”

Ronan lifted Nellore into his arms. “Let it be told that Ewan and Brenna find Nellore by their fire when they woke, swaddled and lying in a basket. Some will say the faery queen must have witnessed the goodness of Brenna’s heart and decided Brenna was a woman deserving of motherhood. Others will claim it was the merciful Son of God who gave the child to the couple owing to their great virtue. Either way, I believe all will rejoice. We shall make a celebration in her honor and send for the abbot.”

“Why?” Shoney asked.

“We shall summon him to baptize Nellore, which will remove any lingering doubts about the holiness of her origins.”

Shoney laughed playfully, “Do you mean the clansfolk might disapprove if we told them the child was discovered at the doorway to the faery kingdom by the infamous Witch of Dervaig?”

“Yes, my pagan queen, this might produce a few objections,” he chuckled. “Now, Bridget, be a good Scottish wife to your laird and change this child. She has wet through my plaid.”

She laid Nellore on a blanket to change her, but Ronan grabbed her from behind and pulled her into his arms for a kiss. When his lips left hers he whispered, “But make sure ‘tis Shoney who comes to my bed tonight.”

Note from the Author

Dear Reader,

I wanted to relate a little of the debated history that inspired the battle scene, which threatened to part Shoney and Ronan forever. What really happened on the shore of Largs between King Alexander III and King Haakon remains largely in dispute. Many older accounts tell of a great battle with high death tolls on both sides. More recent historians contend that it was so minor an event, it may be more aptly named, the Confrontation at Largs.

Whether truth or legend, many assert that Alexander did in fact prolong negotiations through the summer with King Haakon in order to keep him in the Firth of Clyde until autumn. The Scottish king’s motive was to expose the Norse fleet to damaging conditions brought on by the areas notorious seasonal storms.

I hope you have enjoyed this fictional tale. Stay tuned for the coming sequel.

With Gratitude,

Lily Baldwin

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