Page 30 of Highland Flame

“I’ll stay here.” Cam sat down on the bed.

“Me, too. Want to play chess, North?” Nash sat down and started arranging the pieces.

“Nay, I need a nap,” said North, stretching one arm behind his head.

“Men, I’m sorry, but I was told by Laird MacKeefe that as part of your punishment, you were to live as the monks do. Therefore, you’ll have to come with me.”

“Nay,” said North, shaking his head. “This is no’ my punishment, nor is it my brathair’s.”

“That’s right,” agreed Nash. “We’re here only as . . . support for Cam. We are no’ the ones bein’ punished. No’ yet, anyway.”

“I see,” said the monk. “Well, then, Cam, you and I should get going. It is a far walk out of the catacombs and to the church and we don’t want to arrive late.”

“But I –”

“Go on, Cam,” said North, heading for the bed. “We’ll wait for ye here.”

“Damn it,” swore Cam, running a hand through his hair. “I canna pray for eight hours a day.”

“It’s really only five, remember,” the monk reminded him. “Plus, I won’t hold you to the personal reflection and prayer time that the other monks endure.”

“See ye when ye get done chantin’,” said Nash, chuckling, still arranging the chess pieces on the board.

“Oh, you two won’t be able to stay here. Not now,” said the monk.

“Huh?” North was about to sit down on the bed, but looked up in surprise.

“What do ye mean?” asked Nash. “Ye just said we dinna have to go to church like Cam.”

“Nay, but there are many chores to be done. Everyone in the priory helps out.”

“But we’re guests,” protested North.

“Not really,” said the monk. “But don’t worry, I won’t ask you to do anything too hard or too messy, like cleaning out the garderobe.”

“The garderobe?” Nash sprang to his feet. “Well, what is it that we have to do?”

“I’d like you two to head out to the vineyard and help the lay brothers pick grapes. Afterwards, they’ll show you how to stomp the grapes in preparation of turning it into wine.”

Cam about burst out laughing when he saw the looks on his friends’ faces. “I’ll bet ye’re both sorry ye complained about goin’ to a prayer service now.”

*

Yvaine was awokenby a small knock on the door. Opening one eye and then the other, it took a minute for her to remember where she was. She looked over to see Avianca lying on the pallet next to her, stirring. That’s when she realized she was no longer in Hermitage, but now safe in the priory instead.

Another knock, and then the door opened and Cam stuck his head inside.

“Yvaine?” he asked. “Can I come in?”

“Oh. Of course,” she said, jumping up, running a hand over her mussed hair to smooth it.

Cam walked into the room, leaving the door open behind him. He stopped, and stared at her, which allowed Yvaine a chance to drink in his manly beauty. The sun shone in the door behind him, lighting up his golden hair. It was almost as if he had a halo around him. Dressed in his plaid, the colors of purple and green seemed so vibrant in the midday sun. He looked strong, sturdy and handsome. For some reason, she found herself attracted to this rugged Highlander who was really naught but a stranger to her. She didn’t understand her feelings at all.

“Where were ye?” he asked, taking one step forward, and then stopping as if he weren’t sure if he should stay or go.

“What do ye mean?” she asked, feeling heat rise to her face. “I – I was here. Nappin’ with Avianca.” She straightened her clothes, her eyes going right to his this time. While his hair was light, his eyes were dark brown, drawing her in because they looked so mysterious . . . and intriguing.

“I ken that. But why werena ye at some?”