Highland Sword. Ruth Langan
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would you have us do, Duncan? Become like others, cruel and uncaring? Turn our backs on our precious gifts? Gifts that can benefit others? You well know that we’ve never used our gifts for our own profit.”
He gave a bleak shake of his head and started toward the door. As he pulled it open and stepped out into the night he paused. “This visit never happened. You never heard from me. If pressed, I’ll admit that we are distantly related, as are all from the ancient clan Drummond. But I’ll not subject my wife and children to the anger of a mob thirsty for blood.”
Wilona nodded. “I understand, Duncan. And I’m sorry for whatever trouble this brings upon your head.”
After bolting the door she turned to see her daughter standing in the shadows. “You heard?”
Nola nodded. “Aye.”
“We feared this day would come.” The older woman’s spine stiffened. “For the sake of the lasses, we must return to the Mystical Kingdom, and we must leave now, so that there is no trace of us on the morrow.”
“But the isolation? It was the reason we left.”
At Nola’s words the older woman held up a hand to silence her. “Indeed. But isolation if preferable to the dangers we face here.”
“What of Bessie and Jeremy?” Nola watched as the troll sat up and rubbed sleep from his eyes.
“They are welcome to come with us if they choose. Bessie?”
The old woman nodded.
“Jeremy?”
The little troll got to his feet and began to pull on his frock coat.
While Bessie and Jeremy prepared the cart for a journey to the Highlands, Nola and Wilona carried the sleeping children to a nest of furs in the back. As silent as a summer breeze they set off, with the hounds running alongside.
Before the morning sun had risen, the cottage lay empty. The mother, daughter and three granddaughters, as well as a troll and a hunchbacked crone, had left without a trace.
Some said it was a certain sign that they’d aligned themselves with the devil, and had descended into darkness. Others spoke in whispers about a land in the Highlands that had long been home to their clan. An enchanted land, where those with special gifts would be free to practice their mystical powers, away from the prying eyes of disbelievers.
Chapter One
Mystical Kingdom—1559
“Allegra, you’ve worked long enough.” Kylia wiped a strand of coal-black hair from her cheek and paused beside the garden row where her sister was busy hoeing. “Now come fishing with me.”
“How I’d love to. But I’ve another row to see to.”
“It will keep. And you’ll feel so fresh and cool when you splash barefoot in the stream with me.”
“Aye. I’d like that.” Allegra mopped at the sweat that beaded her brow. “As soon as I finish here, I’ll join you.”
“Promise?”
“I do.”
Kylia smiled, for the pleasure was always greater when shared with her sister. As she swung away, her youngest sister, Gwenellen, came racing across the meadow, followed by Jeremy. Though he’d once been known as a fierce troll, exacting payment from all who crossed his bridge, Jeremy had found contentment here in the Mystical Kingdom.
“Allegra. Jeremy and I have found a marvelous berry patch in the forest.”
The little troll nodded. “They’re the sweetest yet.” His voice resembled that of a frog croaking. “Come with us and help us pick them, Allegra.”
She shook her head. “First I have to finish my chore. Then I promised Kylia I’d fish with her. But if you two are still in the forest when I’ve finished with all that, I’ll help.”
Gwenellen shot her sister a pixie smile. “Here. Let me finish your chore right now.” Before Allegra could stop her she clapped her hands and chanted, “Be gone, weeds. Do as I wish.”
Almost at once a shower of seeds fell from the sky, followed by a net filled with fish.
Gwenellen looked around in dismay, then lifted her head to shout, “Not seeds. Weeds. And I didn’t say fish, I said wish.”
Allegra was convulsed with laughter. “Oh, Gwenellen. You really need to practice your spells.”
“I suppose I do.” Her younger sister’s frown turned into a smile. “Well, it looks like you’ll have to weed your garden after all. But when you’re done, promise you’ll join us?”
“If you’re still in the forest picking berries.”
Gwenellen nodded. “We’ll probably still be there. You know we always eat one for every one we drop in my basket.”
Allegra laughed as she glanced at Jeremy patting his round tummy. “I know. Just try not to eat so many that you can’t make it back in time to sup.”
“Have you ever known me to be late for supper?” With her laughter ringing on the air, the fair-haired lass danced off to the forest in search of her berries, with the little troll racing to keep up.
Just then Allegra’s grandmother, Wilona, made her way along the neat rows of the garden, and paused beside her granddaughter, bent to her hoeing. “You’re doing a fine job, Allegra.”
The lass paused to wipe her forehead with the back of her hand. “I enjoy watching the tender shoots breaking through the ground, Gram. The birth of each small plant is such a wondrous thing.”
“Aye.” Wilona smiled at this. It was so typical of her eldest granddaughter. Despite her practical nature, Allegra had the most tender of hearts. She could do the work of three people, then take on another chore, just to give her sisters a chance to swim or bask in the early-summer sun.
The older woman glanced around. “Where are your sisters?”
“Kylia is down by the stream, no doubt already splashing like a fish.”
The old woman shared a smile with her. “Aye. That one does love the water. Let’s just hope she remembers to fetch some of those fish for our supper. And Gwenellen?”
“Off in the forest with Jeremy, hunting berries.” Allegra wisely refrained from mentioning the latest failed spell, for their grandmother had despaired of ever teaching her youngest granddaughter the skills the others enjoyed with such ease.
“The lass does have a fondness for sweets. As does Jeremy.” Wilona frowned. “Still, it isn’t fair to leave you with the garden chores while they’re off playing.”
“I don’t mind, Gram.” Allegra scraped at the earth, dislodging a patch of weeds. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here. This is as pleasant to me as the water is to Kylia, and the soothing forest to Gwenellen.”
“I understand, for it was always the same with me.” The older woman filled her pockets with greens before turning away. “But you’ve already mucked the stalls and collected bundles of herbs for your mother’s potions.”
Allegra smiled at the mention of Bessie. Her gifts were many, including the ability to sing like an angel. Allegra and her sisters had learned a score of lullabyes from the old woman, who’d often sung them to sleep in their young days.
“When you finish here, come back to the cottage and help yourself to the stew Bessie and I have simmering.”
“I will, Gram.” Allegra kissed her grandmother’s cheek before returning to her work.
She had chosen this spot for the garden because it lay in a high meadow, surrounded by forest on either side. Here in the sunlight, under her watchful care, fat cabbages grew to the size