Page 8

“Uncle, we must aid her.”

“We dinna ken if she’s alone. Or if she is in peril.”

“We’ll be careful.”

Aulay ground his teeth. “Aye. Ye’re right.” He turned to his men and cried, “To the island!”

He squinted his eyes. “I see a beach there,” he said to Colum. “We’ll head there. The water is shallow enough for us to anchor nearby.”

As the boat sailed towards the island, his eyes stayed on the figure. He could see now that she had long, red hair and a green dress so bright it seemed to radiate light. If she wanted attention, that color was successful.

The boat moved closer to the island and his mind drifted back into the past. Seven years since Leitis had died. Since that night that had wounded his soul and tortured his heart. He hadn’t remarried or had any children. Having heirs had been his biggest wish. Someone to inherit the riches, the castles, the ships, and the secrets of a successful trading empire.

The closest heir he had was Colum.

“The ship may be somewhere around this island,” said Colum as he raised his arm to the woman. They were so close now that she would be able to see that. “Mayhap the woman survived it.”

“Aye,” said Aulay as he watched her raise her own arm and then hurry down a steep path to the beach. Her dress came only to the middle of her calves, and her legs were so white they flashed like sun reflections against a mirror as she ran.

The shipwreck had been confirmed by Aulay’s connections in Ireland, who claimed a part of the ship had washed ashore on one of the islands, though nothing more was found. Officially, Ireland was allied with England, but Aulay had Irish friends who traded with the MacDonalds despite the English embargo.

So, they knew the ship had crashed somewhere. They just had to find it.

If the English found it first, they could destroy all the progress Bruce had made.

Aulay watched the bottom of the sea to make sure they were deep enough to move away but shallow enough to be able to jump off the ship and move to the land.

Longships were part of the Viking heritage of his clan. Birlinns were designed after them and could be anchored in shallow water and even loaded and unloaded without the jetty if needed.

“Anchor!” he yelled when they reached the right depth.

The anchor—a wooden construction with a heavy rock in the middle—was dropped and the boat came to a stop.

Aulay barked the names of the men he wanted to take with him. They jumped off into the sea, chest-deep, and moved with their weapons unsheathed to the woman, who had come down to the beach. She froze and took a step back. An instinct in Aulay’s stomach made him hurry towards her. The splashing of the water as the men ran through the surf was deafening. Ten steps away from her, Aulay saw her pretty, big eyes widen in her pale face. She took three more steps back, her hand jumping to her chest.

And Aulay knew something was not right.

She was dressed like…like…like no one he’d ever seen. The dress was too short, she had no undertunic on, no veil covering her hair. The fabric was so thin it floated on the air like a spiderweb. And the color—now that he was close to her, it looked like real leaves and branches and flowers were placed right on the fabric of her dress. This was a masterwork, such as he’d never seen in his life. And he’d been trading with the Italians and French for decades. And her shoes… By God’s feet, those shoes were three straps of leather attached to soles, shamelessly exposing her toes to the world.

She backed up the narrow path up the hill.

“My lady,” said Aulay, walking quickly towards her.

She was ready to flee. He saw the panic in her eyes.

“Did ye cry for help?” he asked. “Is there anyone else here?”

As his men walked onto the beach behind him, her gaze fell on their swords and axes and shields, glistening with water and the dull light of the day.

She screamed, then turned and ran up the hill. But she didn’t even make three steps before she slipped, her foot slid out of one of her shoes, and she fell on her stomach.

“She must be insane,” said Colum, frowning and eyeing the woman. “But where the hell did she come from?”

As she scrambled to her feet, Aulay sighed. “There is something odd about her. And if there’s something odd, she’s nae one of us. And if she’s nae one of us, she might be the enemy. Mayhap she’s also looking for the treasure.” He watched her round behind sway in the air as she tried to put on her odd shoes and keep running. But she kept losing her balance, and her shoe refused to slide back onto her foot. “Mayhap she’s a spy. We must take her back to Islay and find out.”

While they discussed her, she didn’t get far. She kept running but slipping in her silly shoes.

He walked to her in ten long strides, his wet clothes stuck to his body and dripping. He sheathed his sword, bent down, picked her up, and flung her over his shoulder. She was small and nicely rounded. As he walked with her on his shoulder, his men turned and made their way to the ship.