Highland Seer Read Free

told him as she bent to pull the covers higher on his thin chest.
    “I canna, Ellie. No’ yet. I havena told ye about the brave warriors who saved us. And their leader, aye, his is the like we need.”
    “Do we now?” Even the youngest lads knew they were in trouble and sought to help. If she didn’t need to reassure these lads, she’d be swamped with dismay by the burdens they bore. “Then tell me, laddie, so ye can rest.” She glanced around the room, noting several of her other patients awake and listening. “So all of ye can get to sleep.”
    “There we were, surrounded,” Davy began.
    “When horsemen broke out o’ the trees,” another voice piped in.
    “They slew our attackers...whack!...just like that.”
    “Aye,” Davy agreed solemnly. “But no’ before several of us were cut and bleedin’, tryin’ to defend ourselves and the MacKyrie whisky.”
    “Like Fergus,” another added.
    “Ye were all very brave,” she told them, fighting back tears of grief and anger. Those wagons should never have gone out without an escort, but where were they to find one of those? Instead, these lads, these bairns, had been forced to fight for their very lives.
    “Their leader was a master of the blade,” Davy continued, oblivious to the turmoil nearly swamping her. “They were all braw warriors, but oh, if only ye could ha’ seen him! He killed five or six all on his own.” She couldn’t deny his enthusiasm for their rescuer. But this must be childish exaggeration. Or was it possible that he relating exactly what had happened?
    “Did he?” Ellie’s heart picked up its pace. A warrior so grand as to best six attackers by himself? Could he be the one she’d Seen? The warrior who’d slain or chased off the wolves in her dream. Were those meant to be the raiders who attacked the wagons? It made a certain sense. Her dream had shown her the attack and its resolution, but she had not known how to interpret it. Could there be more to the dreams she’d been having? Did the warrior from her dream have a larger purpose than the rescue of the wagons? What if he’d come to train up their lads into men? To save the Clan MacKyrie?
    “What’s all this racket?” Fergus’s gruff voice interrupted her thoughts. “A man canna sleep with all this blather.”
    Ellie returned to his side to check his wound and placed a hand on his forehead. Good, no fever—at least, not yet.
    “The lads tell ye true, lass,” the old man whispered. “One of them could be the one ye Saw in yer dreams. They all had strong sword arms and no fear o’ the battle. Ye must meet wi’ them and see for yerself.”
    Ellie closed her eyes, picturing the man who’d appeared to her three times. If only she had seen his face clearly. Then, if she met him, she would have no doubts. She would know if one of these braw warriors who’d done her clan such a great service was the one in her dreams. She opened her eyes, pushed her hair back, and once again took Fergus’s hand. “If no’ the leader, then perhaps one of his men?”
    “Aye, lass. Worthy lads, all. But ye must see for yerself.”
    “I will, Fergus. But now, ’tis time for all of ye”—she paused and gave the laddies a stern look—“to sleep. The clan needs ye. Ye must heal and get strong.” She turned back to Fergus with a fond smile and squeezed his hand, then removed the whisky bottle to a pocket in her apron. “Ye, too, auld man. I need ye most of all. Sleep well.”
    She waited while her charges settled down and closed their eyes. Fergus gave her a conspiratorial wink before he, too, dozed off again.
    Her lads. No matter their age, they were her lads and she worried over each and every one of them. If only her Sight proved to mean what she hoped it did. What she longed for. The clan needed strong men to protect it, no’ these lads and elders. Damn the king. Damn the auld laird. They needed help.

Chapter 2
    The next morning, Ellie entered the great hall dressed in a simple