Page 21 of Enchanted

Rosalyn turned to look at Gwendolyn. “You have been more than generous with the gowns I received last night. I could not possibly impose.”

“’Tis not an imposition,” Gwendolyn assured her. “We have plenty to share.” Her gaze moved past Rosalyn to the other women seated at the table before returning to Rosalyn.

At the determined look on Gwendolyn’s face, Rosalyn finally nodded, stood, then quietly followed Gwendolyn from the hall. The other women followed.

A wave of relief swept through Keiran that Rosalyn would remain safely behind the stone walls of Dunvegan while he and his brothers searched for the Englishmen who threatened her. “When do we leave?” Keiran asked, straightening, and searching the other men’s faces.

As the men stood, and Alastair moved off to gather warriors to assist them on the quest, Keiran stared at the doorway through which Gwendolyn and Rosalyn had vanished. He marvelled at the changes in Rosalyn since yesterday, when she had been like a frightened, injured, and angry kitten. Today, she held her head high, despite the fact she was surrounded by strangers. And when his mother had proclaimed she was the target of the Englishmen’s hunt, she had not shown fear.

“Which direction shall we head?” Graeme asked, interrupting Keiran’s thoughts. “You said you were the strategist for Oberon in Fairyland. Perhaps your skills can help us figure out how to proceed without having to divide ourselves into two groups.”

“If the men are coming from the same area where Rosalyn was attacked near Struan, then we should head to the north-east. Unless they have a boat, they will be forced to go around Loch Caroy.”

“And if they have a boat?” Tormod asked with a frown.

“The likelihood of that is very low, but if they do, then we will be heading in the wrong direction.”

“I say we split up and cover both,” Tormod challenged.

Keiran should have expected such a response from Tormod. His brother did not like to fail, would do anything to avoid it, in fact. “I am told Mother’s premonitions are not always accurate. She saw two men, but perhaps there are more. Why weaken our defences by dividing our numbers?”

“I agree with Keiran,” Alastair said, coming to join them. “We stay together. If we are to face an entire regiment of men, then we will need all of us to defend ourselves. And we will all need Keiran if something should go wrong.”

At Keiran’s puzzled expression, Alastair added, “Your powers of healing give us an edge we have never had before. ’Tis a gift we shall protect and cherish.”

Alastair signalled for the men to mount, and as they headed towards the open gates, he brought his horse alongside Keiran’s. “It only now occurred to me, but when you heal someone, is there a cost to yourself?”

Keiran nodded. “I grow weak, and depending on the severity of the wound, sometimes it takes a while for my strength to return.”

“That is good to know. If we are forced to use your healing, we will protect you while you recover,” Alastair said, increasing the pace as he guided the men to the north-east.

Keiran increased his speed to stay with Alastair. “You realise I have never tested my abilities on more than a few broken bones and gashes from swords. I truly have no idea of the extent of my abilities or the long-term effects on my person.”

“I understand, Keiran. But a chance at life after a deadly battle is better than no chance at all. Judging by the blood on Rosalyn’s gown, her injury was substantial. You brought her back from the edge of death. I hope you would do the same for one of your brothers.”

“Of course, but isn’t it better to avoid a bloody conflict than to test my abilities? Besides, Orrick led me to believe you were the one who wanted to negotiate peace instead of fight. What has changed?”

“I was able to keep the peace between the clans and the Scottish government, which is always trying to exert more control over the clans. But the English are an entirely different enemy. They outnumber us, they have resources that we do not, and they are growing less tolerant of our way of life here in the Highlands. To the English, those who support the Hanoverians are good, and those who still support the Stuarts are evil,” Alastair said. “The day is coming when we MacLeods will have to choose a side and take a stand against those who oppose us.”

Politics was not something Keiran knew much about, having been raised in Fairyland. Though, in the last few weeks he had heard his brothers talking about the Jacobite cause and the threat of invasion from England. Keiran frowned as he stared into the distance. He had not realised, until that moment, the weight Alastair carried as laird. Not only was he responsible for managing his estates, which included collecting rents, maintaining roads and bridges, and providing food and shelter for his tenants, he also had to balance his relationship with the Scottish government and the other clan lairds. All while trying to keep his people safe from the constant threat of English invasion. And now they faced the added threat of what Oberon would do to them all once he emerged.

No wonder Alastair was so keen on the idea that Keiran could heal his people if injured. It gave him one less worry. “I will gladly help where I am able,” Keiran replied. “With healing and with your estates.”

“Thank you, Keiran.” Alastair smiled at his brother before turning his gaze back to the path ahead.

Keiran narrowed his gaze on the landscape as they passed, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Discovering and detaining the Englishmen who threatened Rosalyn was urgent. Only then would they get back to finding a means to rid themselves of Oberon before the fairy king regained his powers. An English invasion would not matter to the MacLeods if Oberon destroyed them all first.