He spun around and reached for his daughter. “Oh, my sweet. I would never hurt you.” He picked her up and kissed her cheek, waiting for the girl to realize who held her so she would stop her crying. “You are my sweet lass. I’d never hurt you. I’m Papa. Say it. Papa.”
The bairn screamed louder and shoved against his chest. “Mama. Wan’ Mama.”
“Mama is dead. You’ll never see the bitch again,” he said through gritted teeth. How he hated that woman.
Shealee began to kick and fight against him, so he raised his hand up to her, but Kyla grabbed it, stopping him. “How dare you hit a child, you cruel, weak bastard.”
He hesitated, realizing that he did not wish to hit such a wee one, but he’d hoped that striking her would put an end to her tirade.
Samuel must have been able to see in his mind. “Chief, bairns cry louder if you hit them.”
He tossed the screaming lass onto the bed and the three others cuddled her, the wee faery wrapping her arms around the child until she quieted.
He grabbed the faery’s arm, but it felt like it was full of nettles. He let go and nearly hit her, but the look on the faery’s face stopped him. She whispered, “You don’t recall the battle in the sea? The lightning, the creature?”
Turning to Samuel, he shouted, “What the hell is wrong with my daughter? Last I saw her, she adored me.”
Kyla said, “If it was more than a moon, she won’t remember you. Bairns don’t recall things for long. She’s already forgotten you.”
“She remembers her mother, and she died a year ago.”
“Nay, she remembers Merryn, not your wife. Merryn is Mama now.”
Tora said, “You killed hew mama a yeaw ago.”
“You shut your mouth too unless you wish for a slap.” He grabbed Tora by her tunic and lifted her into the air. Kyla tried to stop him, but Samuel held her back.
“You are the witchy one. Send me the coins that I deserve.” He twisted the tunic and Tora stared at his shoulder, her gaze locking on the fabric, and then she blew on it.
The arm of his tunic erupted into a blaze of fire.
“Och!” He dropped Tora onto the bed, and he and Samuel grabbed a fur and smothered the flames.
He backed up and said, “Samuel, send them a message. I’ll do a trade because I don’t want those two wee ones. I want the one with the special sword.”
Samuel opened the door, and Kelvan couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He nearly ran to the ship because he had a sudden fear of the witchy one and the other one with the golden hair. What the hell were they? Seers, witches, faeries? He didn’t know how to deal with any of them.
But he’d heard about the lad with the sword. “What about the sword? What did you call it, Samuel?”
“They call it the sapphire sword. It is said that it holds the power to bring the gates of hell up to thrash the wicked. And that whoever holds it is protected and directs the powers.”
“What powers exactly?”
“Of that, I’m not certain. It’s said it will protect the holder from any harm. So, the one who carries the sword into battle will be protected. But I also heard it will go against any evil forces in the land of the Scots.”
“Then why does a lad hold it? That doesn’t make sense.”
“It was held by a lass long ago, one who brought fields of men to battle over her heart, so they say. One man was about to gain it from her, but she raised it to the sky and the rains came down from heaven and gave the power to her allies.”
“Who the hell were her allies? Do you know?”
“Aye. The Grants, Ramsays, and the Menzies.”
Kelvan stopped before he was about to jump onto the ship. He spun around and bellowed, “Why did you not tell me this before?”
“I didn’t think it mattered. Glenna is fighting with the Ramsays. Is that not who she struck down?”
“Aye, she struck down Logan Ramsay. But the woman inside with the bairns? Do you know what clan she’s from?”
