much farther from the English.”
“He stays to protect MacLintock Castle, my cousin’s family especially. The English tried to steal my cousin’s two-year-old son to get to Grandsire. But we saved him. The spectral swords did their job, which is why I fear I’ll have to go there soon.”
“What kind of swords?”
“Spectral. ’Tis my grandsire’s name for them. ’Tis a long explanation, so I’ll just say this for now. When my three cousins—Alasdair, Els, and Dyna—and I fight together, our swords take on an unusual strength. I believe Dyna and I will be called to MacLintock Castle soon. If my grandsire perceives another threat to one of the Grants, we’ll have to leave quickly to fight the English.”
She’d only ever heard of such things in the stories of old, songs and tales about heroes with unimaginable strength. But she believed in the mysteries of life, and she believed in Alick. It awed her to think he’d been chosen for such a purpose.
“Alick, what you do is so important. Someday I hope you’ll tell me all about it, but I’ll be sad to hear you’ve left Grant Castle.”
“I don’t wish to leave yet,” he said, pulling her closer. “I’d prefer to get to know you better. How I wish you could meet my grandsire. He’d ask you to sit with him and tell him all about your clan. Ask you about Thane Castle and King Robert.”
He smiled, thinking of how serious his grandfather could be, yet he could make them all laugh with one short comment.
“Why do you smile? You must be thinking of your grandsire.”
His eyes shined when he answered her. “I laugh because we all love him so. And I dread the day he passes. I suspect he’d know exactly what to do to gain your sire’s acceptance. Unfortunately, since he’s at my cousin’s keep, I’ll have to find another I can ask, and I think I know the right one.”
“Your sire?”
“Nay, I’ll ask my mother. They say she thinks much like Grandsire.”
“Have I met her? Which one is she?”
“She’s been abed sick. It weighs on her, what’s happening in our land. Sometimes she gets bad headaches or even the heaves. When she’s feeling poorly, she doesn’t like to be in large groups. She stays away from the noise in the great hall.”
Worry snaked into Branwen. The last thing she wanted was for his mother to resent her. “Mayhap you should wait before you bother her,” she suggested.
“Nay, I’ll sneak in and ask her on the morrow.” He gave her a quick kiss then stood, helping her to her feet. “I better get you back before you are missed, but I will find you promptly after I speak with my mother. We can count on her to help us. She’s verra good at persuading others to her way of thinking.” His next words were spoken in a husky whisper: “I promise I will come to court you soon.”
He squeezed her hand and whispered, “I look forward to many more kisses. You do belong with me, not Osbert Ware.”
How she prayed they could be together.
They headed back, hand in hand, and suddenly Alick stopped.
“What is it?” she whispered, wondering if there was an animal nearby. She wasn’t the least bit worried because Alick’s presence gave her a sense of security she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Wait here,” he said, running off toward a knoll. “I see something up there.” He pointed and headed up the hill, only to stop halfway up. He returned quickly, hurrying down the hill faster than he’d run up it.
“What’s wrong?”
He took her hand and moved her forward a bit faster than before. “A nest of adders. I caught the odd pattern moving in the grass.”
“’Tis why you went there?”
“Nay, did you not see the bluebells? I wanted to pick a flower for you, but I’ll have to find another patch.” He grinned at her. “I’ll admit to you, and you alone, that I don’t like snakes. I’m hurrying just in case one of them decided to follow me.”
She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder, and he squeezed her hand. “I’ll protect you.”
She had never felt more certain of anything in her life. Alick MacNicol would protect her from everything. Even her father.
Chapter Six
Alick knocked on the door to his mother’s chamber the morn after his talk with Branwen. He wanted to speak with her before he broke his fast, afraid that Branwen’s sire might wish to leave early.
“Mama, how do you fare this morn?”