Becca St.John by Seonaid Read Free Book Online

behind in the sucking muck. Padraig planted him down on solid ground, shook his shoulder. “You were told not to walk about. You knew better.”
    “I want my mama,” he sniffed, and threw himself into Seonaid’s arms.
    Her arms. He wanted her rather than Padraig .
    “He’s safe, isn’t he?” She sniffed herself, unbidden tears rising with his rescue. Safe .
    “Aye, safe now.” Padraig acknowledged as the lad, now snug in his mama’s arms, looked at him. “You were told not to walk about, now, were you not?”
    Deian nodded, as Seonaid countered. “He’s wet and cold.”
    “I want to go home,” Deian whined.
    “You’ve no one to blame but yourself,” Padraig reminded him.
    “No one was there and I had to pee.” Deian lifted his head, scowled at Seonaid.
    She hadn’t been there, off instead with Padraig. She scowled in turn at Padraig, dared him to say anything.
    “Then you call out. We’ll never be far, lad. Never far.” He reached to stroke the boy’s head. Seonaid pulled him out of reach.
    “I’m cold,” Deian griped.
    And so was she, from deep inside.
    “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.” Seonaid followed the light of Padraig’s torch, the only light on this dark, dark night with no moon and cloud cover so low no stars could be seen, and she thought of all the terrors that could have met Deian, of how far he could have wandered if the bog hadn’t stopped him. Nothing to guide him back to camp. Animals hunted at night.
    And she’d been out playing wild with a man.
    She knew better. Had always known better. There was no future for her with Padraig. He was a clansman, his heart would always be there. He would leave them when they reached a boat for passage. He would leave them.
    It was just her and Deian. No other. Just her and Deian.
    All slick, slippery muck, he squirmed to be free.
    “Stop your thrashing!”
    “I don’t want you!” He pummeled her, “I don’t want to be here! I want to go home! I want Ingrid!” And again, words that slew her: “I don’t want you!”
    Seonaid fought to keep her hold on him lest he fall, unable to argue against his wants. He had the right of it.
    But Padraig stormed in, his face right up to Deian’s, startling them both. “And who pushed you to climb into a loft and left you? And who got you out of there?” Padraig argued.
    Rigid, Deian glared at him, but stopped his squiggles. It was not a time to remember. Seonaid slew Ingrid’s sister. She’d had her revenge.
    “Enough!” Padraig’s command broke the stillness. Deian dropped his head onto her shoulder, away from Padraig’s stare.
    “Poor little lad,” she crooned, as she crossed to what was left of the fire, Padraig ahead of her to stoke it. “Shivering and quivering with cold.” Her hands gentled and soothed as he hiccupped. “No, my sweet lad, no shame in tears.” She forced the words out by the threat of her own. “Go ahead and cry now.” She settled him on his feet.
    “I won’t cry.” His breath hitched, as he swiped an arm across a runny nose.
    “Of course not.” Hands shaking, she reached for the brae ties. “Why would you be crying now? You’ve only been lost in a dark hole without another soul to know.” She pulled his shirt over his head. “You’ve only been taken from your friends. You’ve no reason…” Her own voice hitched, as she wrapped him in the blanket Padraig passed to her. “No reason…” Tears blurred her words.
    “Can I hold your brooch?” he asked.
    She studied him, her brave little boy, so stoic despite fear raging inside. And she knew it did, for he asked for the brooch, for the first time in forever, he asked to hold the one thing she had of her mother’s. A circle of gold around the silhouette of a full sun and the ribbon of words “I burn but am not consumed.” The symbol and motto for the clan Macleod of Lewis. When Deian was no more than a wee mite, frightened by a night filled with ominous shadows and dreams that robbed