Reclaimed (A Highland Historical Trilogy) (The MacKay Banshees 1-3) by Kerrigan Byrne Page A
Authors: Kerrigan Byrne
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right?”
Lorne nodded, itching at his ear. “Aye, it’s starting to get better,” he said in a more normal register.
“Thank ye, for rushing in when ye did. How was it that ye were so close to my chamber?”
Shadows appeared in Lorne’s eyes and his arms dropped to his side. “I didna want to say with yer lady here and all, but I was coming to wake ye about a different matter altogether.”
Rory’s heart dropped into his stomach.
“More disturbing news from the clan,” Lorne stated reluctantly. “A flock of crows flew into Achfery and old Hamish MacKay died at his own supper table thirteen minutes after they arrived. And more herds are said to be struck dead or ill in the Balkins. The clan elders want to meet tomorrow night to discuss what is to be done.”
A headache burned behind Rory’s eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Think ye it has to do with the Banshee?” Lorne asked. “Or her mother?”
“I’m starting to believe it’s so,” Rory sighed. “Did ye know that Angus burned them to death?”
Lorne lifted a hand to the back of his neck. “I had my suspicions, what with his frustration over the middle one and her refusal of him. He… really went a violent kind of mad toward the end there.”
Rory could do nothing but nod.
“What do ye want to do about this?” Lorne asked.
Katriona’s face swam in front of Rory’s eyelids. Her rage covered a pain wrought by anyone’s greatest terror realized and the memory of her flesh melting from her bones in a fire his own brother ignited. Once there had been warmth behind the bright green of her gaze, an endearing vulnerability. A need to be loved for who she was and not overlooked.
That need had spoken to Rory in a very powerful way. He’d often fantasized of gathering the courage to offer to fill that need.
His brother had stopped him, of course. Truth be told, he dared not bring a woman into the same household as his family. Though he’d grown large and strong enough to deter any danger from his father, he’d always worry about the safety of a wife.
No woman should have to live like that.
The mistrust and fear of her family had also seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. He’d known they regarded him the same as both his father and brother.
Monster and marauder.
Despite his best efforts, nothing had changed.
“Should we send ‘round for the old washer woman?” Lorne suggested.
Rory thought of their dire situation. If the herds died, his clan starved. If they were weak, their enemies the Sutherlands would sweep through with destruction like they’d never seen and leave their bones for the MacLeods to pick over.
But could he submit an old woman to burn for the second time in her life to appease the masses? Didn’t that make him as much a monster as his brother and father? What if it was one of Katriona’s sisters wreaking the curse upon the land and he angered them further? Kathryn could very well be mistaken regarding their harmlessness.
“Nay,” Rory gritted out. His mind was made up. The Banshees had to be dealt with, and he only knew of one man powerful enough to rid him of them.
“Send for the Druid.”
Chapter Six
The washhouse nestled beneath a gently sloped but tall hill on the banks of Loch Caladail. The icy sea wind that blew from Cape Durness screamed through the craggy limestone gorge on the opposite side of the knoll and broke upon the hill, buffeting the ruins from the worst of the foul weather.
Katriona turned to Kylah, who perched next to her atop the large pile of unused firewood, watching their mother fitfully sleep in the unused hearth beneath a warm pile of old furs. “She cannot go on living like this,” Katriona muttered. “I’m surprised she lasted the winter without a fire.”
“’Tis her hatred that keeps her alive.” Kylah didn’t take her eyes from Elspeth to reply. “And the warm food and layers of clothing that are left.”
“And us.” Kamdyn supplied from the stony
Lorne nodded, itching at his ear. “Aye, it’s starting to get better,” he said in a more normal register.
“Thank ye, for rushing in when ye did. How was it that ye were so close to my chamber?”
Shadows appeared in Lorne’s eyes and his arms dropped to his side. “I didna want to say with yer lady here and all, but I was coming to wake ye about a different matter altogether.”
Rory’s heart dropped into his stomach.
“More disturbing news from the clan,” Lorne stated reluctantly. “A flock of crows flew into Achfery and old Hamish MacKay died at his own supper table thirteen minutes after they arrived. And more herds are said to be struck dead or ill in the Balkins. The clan elders want to meet tomorrow night to discuss what is to be done.”
A headache burned behind Rory’s eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Think ye it has to do with the Banshee?” Lorne asked. “Or her mother?”
“I’m starting to believe it’s so,” Rory sighed. “Did ye know that Angus burned them to death?”
Lorne lifted a hand to the back of his neck. “I had my suspicions, what with his frustration over the middle one and her refusal of him. He… really went a violent kind of mad toward the end there.”
Rory could do nothing but nod.
“What do ye want to do about this?” Lorne asked.
Katriona’s face swam in front of Rory’s eyelids. Her rage covered a pain wrought by anyone’s greatest terror realized and the memory of her flesh melting from her bones in a fire his own brother ignited. Once there had been warmth behind the bright green of her gaze, an endearing vulnerability. A need to be loved for who she was and not overlooked.
That need had spoken to Rory in a very powerful way. He’d often fantasized of gathering the courage to offer to fill that need.
His brother had stopped him, of course. Truth be told, he dared not bring a woman into the same household as his family. Though he’d grown large and strong enough to deter any danger from his father, he’d always worry about the safety of a wife.
No woman should have to live like that.
The mistrust and fear of her family had also seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. He’d known they regarded him the same as both his father and brother.
Monster and marauder.
Despite his best efforts, nothing had changed.
“Should we send ‘round for the old washer woman?” Lorne suggested.
Rory thought of their dire situation. If the herds died, his clan starved. If they were weak, their enemies the Sutherlands would sweep through with destruction like they’d never seen and leave their bones for the MacLeods to pick over.
But could he submit an old woman to burn for the second time in her life to appease the masses? Didn’t that make him as much a monster as his brother and father? What if it was one of Katriona’s sisters wreaking the curse upon the land and he angered them further? Kathryn could very well be mistaken regarding their harmlessness.
“Nay,” Rory gritted out. His mind was made up. The Banshees had to be dealt with, and he only knew of one man powerful enough to rid him of them.
“Send for the Druid.”
Chapter Six
The washhouse nestled beneath a gently sloped but tall hill on the banks of Loch Caladail. The icy sea wind that blew from Cape Durness screamed through the craggy limestone gorge on the opposite side of the knoll and broke upon the hill, buffeting the ruins from the worst of the foul weather.
Katriona turned to Kylah, who perched next to her atop the large pile of unused firewood, watching their mother fitfully sleep in the unused hearth beneath a warm pile of old furs. “She cannot go on living like this,” Katriona muttered. “I’m surprised she lasted the winter without a fire.”
“’Tis her hatred that keeps her alive.” Kylah didn’t take her eyes from Elspeth to reply. “And the warm food and layers of clothing that are left.”
“And us.” Kamdyn supplied from the stony
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