Page 40 of Highlanders for the Holidays
“Can’t ye?” he grumbled.
No?l shook his head.
“But if ye truly love my sister, isn’t that all that matters?”
No?l clucked his tongue. “Ye’ve got skills with a blade now. But ye still have much to learn about duty and honor.”
Caimbeul heaved a sigh. Then he drew his dagger and began idly carving the top of his wooden staff.
“Besides,” No?l said, “would ye not prefer I take the real Cathalin and leave Ysenda here? I know ye’re very close to your sister. And she loves ye very much.”
Caimbeul continued carving in silence, but No?l saw his lips compress with an unasked question.
“Ye were hopin’ to come with us,” No?l guessed, “weren’t ye?”
Caimbeul shrugged. “Maybe.” He dusted the wood chips from the top of his staff. “I could make myself useful now.”
His words broke No?l’s heart. There was nothing worse for a man than not feeling useful. He wished hecouldtake Caimbeul with him.
But if he did the right thing and married the real Cathalin, he had to leave Caimbeul behind. He couldn’t be so heartless as to steal Ysenda’s brother from her.
With a growl of frustration, he shot to his feet, raking his hands back through his hair.
The abrupt movement spooked Caimbeul, who lurched from the bench in surprise and almost fell. As he grabbed No?l to regain his balance, his dagger grazed No?l’s neck.
“Ach!” Caimbeul cried. “Forgive me. Ye startled me. Are ye all right?”
“Aye,” he said, clapping his hand to his bloodied neck to make sure his head was still attached. Then he gave the lad a wink of reassurance. “’Tis only a scratch. But ye’d better put away your weapon before your warrior blood gets the best o’ ye.”
“Sorry.” Caimbeul sheathed his dagger and bent to retrieve his dropped staff. “Are ye sure ye’re all right?”
No?l sighed. Nae, he wasnotall right. He was brokenhearted and discouraged. He could see no way out of this predicament. There would be no happy ending…for anyone.
After Caimbeul limped off and No?l was alone again in the armory, his thoughts began to drift.
The Viking well suddenly materialized in his mind. Why, he didn’t know. He didn’t actually believe in enchantments. Only a fool would imagine an ancient ruin held some magical power.
Yet Ysenda’s words haunted him. What had she said? That the well could bless two lovers, binding them together for eternity.
Which was ridiculous. But he supposed every place had its local legends—the Highlands probably more than most. For the superstitious, all it took to keep such a legend alive was enough inexplicable coincidences.
No?l, however, was neither superstitious nor gullible. Shaking his head over his absurd imagination, he left the armory.
As he entered the great hall, he glimpsed Ysenda near the far wall. She looked as beautiful as…as a Viking goddess.
He frowned. A Viking goddess? What had made that pop into his mind? He knew nothing about Viking goddesses.
He straightened and made his way through the crowd toward Ysenda.
Her smile was melancholy. Her eyes looked like heavy clouds about to loose their store of rain as she murmured, “I can’t thank ye enough for what ye did for Caimbeul.”
“He’s a good fighter. If he puts his mind to it, he’ll one day be a great Viking warrior.”
“A what?”
No?l furrowed his brows. What had made him say that? “Highland, a great Highland warrior.”
Ysenda’s eyes were moist. He could see his praise of her brother meant a lot to her. But the longer he looked at her, the more miserable he felt. Standing beside her was torture when he knew he couldn’t keep her.
