Written in 52 minutes.

Jason abandoned the horse almost as soon as he had rode into the woods—the trees were too tightly clustered together—he couldn’t take the risk the horse would step wrong and throw him—he had to get to his wife—had to get to Elizabeth—

He heard a scream—Elizabeth’s scream—and then it cut off abruptly. Jason’s head turned sharply and he fought to focus in the inky darkness. If he chose the wrong route—if he went in the wrong direction—he’d never get a second chance.

So he listened for just one extra precious moment, listening for the sounds of movement, of bodies, of any evidence—

And heard branches breaking, heard another short grunt—more screaming—his direction assured, Jason started to move.

—

Elizabeth fought Stavros every step of the way—she dug at him with her nails, with her fingers, with her legs, kicking and scrambling wildly as he pulled her across the clearing, wrapping his hand around a chunk of her hair.

She wasn’t going to go quietly, she wasn’t going to go without a fight—

But this man—this man she had only met less than a day ago—seemed to be imbued with superhuman strength. He grunted and ignored all her kicks, her screams, her jabs and scrapes. She knew he was hurt—knew Johnny had landed a few hits—

But whatever righteous hatred beat in his chest was fueling him, keeping him standing—giving him strength as he hauled her over the wood pile and shoved her against the wooden pyre.
“Please, stop, stop, stop!” Elizabeth sobbed. She raised her voice again. “Help!”

“Shut up,” Stavros grunted as he roughly pulled her arms behind her back and tied them, the coarse rope biting into her skin. Then he shoved some cloth into her mouth. “But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts,” he hissed, “the idolaters and all liars—they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur.”

He stepped back and did something with his hands, with a piece of wood and then suddenly the night was lit with bright flames, illuminating the twisted expression of the man who was going to kill her.

“This is the second death—” Stavros began as he lifted the torch high in the air. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live—”

He was tackled from the side as a dark blur appeared out of nowhere, the torch went flying and Elizabeth kept screaming, the cloth finally falling out of her mouth—the flames licked at some of the kindling—

And the woodpile around her went up in flames.

Elizabeth kicked and kept screaming, even as voice went hoarse and disappeared—she twisted and pushed against the ripe—

“M’lady, m’lady—” She could scarcely hear the worried cries of Max, one of Jason’s men, as he climbed over the woodpile towards her, the flames licking at him. He hissed as a piece of his shirt ignited, batting it out. “I’ll get you out, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to set the fire—”

Elizabeth felt the ropes loosen around her wrist just as Stavros pushed himself up and looked at them, his face twisted in rage. “No!” he roared. “She must pay!” He launched himself at the Highlander and the two of them rolled down the woodpile. Elizabeth struggled to free herself from the rest of the rope, but her hands were twisted and the flames were inching closer—

The bottom of her skirt caught and Elizabeth could feel the heat on her skin, as the rest of the pile became engulfed—Oh, God, Oh, God, this was how it was going to end—she was going to burn—

And then she was free—flying through the air, landing with a grunt against the hard ground and then being rolled.

“Are you burned?” Jason demanded, running his hands up and down her body, checking her legs, checking her feet— “Elizabeth!”

“You—” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face against him. “You came. You found me—”

“Are you burned?” he repeated, his voice hoarse.

“I don’t—” Elizabeth shoved Jason away from her as a a dark figure lurched behind him, a large branch in his hand. Stavros grunted as his hit landed in the ground between them and Jason scrambled to his feet as Elizabeth tried to crawl away. Stavros grabbed her foot and started to drag her again, dragging her towards the flames—towards the inferno—

Then her foot was free and she rolled over to see her husband and Stavros on the ground, rolling, punching, and kicking—she couldn’t even—

Elizabeth got to her feet, sobbing, looking around for anything that could turn the tide, that would give her a chance to save him—she wouldn’t run, wouldn’t hide in the trees, not again—

She spied the branch Stavros had used on the ground and picked it up—she watched the fight—she didn’t want to hit her husband—

“You will not stop me!” Stavros growled as he wrapped his hand around Jason’s neck, momentarily getting the advantage on the younger man. Jason grunted and was about to dislodge the insane bastard when Stavros cried out in pain and rolled off him.

Jason blinked, sitting up to see Elizabeth standing behind them, wielding the branch. He struggled to his feet, intending to take it from her, to finally end this—

But Stavros hurled himself up and launched himself at her—Elizabeth stepped aside—and Jason realized what she’d done—where she had positioned herself..

And so did Stavros—an instant to late. He tried to stop his forward motion, but he just stumbled and then—

He fell onto the pyre—his screams echoing in the night as his body was consumed—then they stopped, the only sounds in the night were the flickering of the flames, Elizabeth’s broken sobs, and Jason’s ragged breathing.

Elizabeth looked over at him, her face shadowed. Then she dropped the branch, ran at him, and threw herself into his arms. Jason caught her against him, pressing her tightly against him.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, harshly, his fingers tangled in her hair.

“N-No, I don’t—” She drew back and framed his face in her hands. “You came—”

“Always,” he promised her, then he took her mouth, drinking in her taste, her touch, her scent—the reassurance that she was still alive and in his arms— “Always.”

—

By the time Jason and Elizabeth returned the encampment, there was a crowd gathered around their tent. Jason handed the slightly injured Max off to one of his men before taking a deep breath. He’d known that Johnny’s wound was serious when he’d left him—

He wasn’t ready to see his oldest friend’s body.

“He sent Francis with the boys,” Elizabeth whispered softly. “He tried so hard—”

“I know he did—”

“J-Jason—” His sister’s anxious voice caught his attention, and he turned to find Emily with her cheeks tear-stained and the stone-faced man behind her.

Jason clenched his jaw. “Emily, you’re always welcome, but I think you’d best tell your husband to get out of my sight—”

“No—” Elizabeth shook her head and he swung around to look at her. Her eyes were ravaged and her voice hoarse from the screaming, the nails on her hands all but gone from the scratching and digging—

“Elizabeth—”

“He had nothing to do with what Stavros had planned.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, faced Nikolas and her sister-in-law. “Trust me.”

“I do,” Jason muttered. “But—”

“My father was insane,” Nikolas said with a hard swallow. “I knew he was devoted to the Church, but in the last few years, it became worse. But he never—there were always—he followed the law.”

“The law?” Jason bit out. “The law that says a woman can be burned or hung if one thinks her a witch?”

“I didn’t say I agreed,” Nikolas managed. “I just—I never—” He focused on Elizabeth, taking in her destroyed appearance. “I can’t—there are no amends that can be made.”

“No, there aren’t,” Jason said. “Excuse us.” He took Elizabeth by the elbow and found Milo at the front of the tent. “Did he suffer?” he asked the young man.

“Oh, m’lady, you’re all right!” Milo said brightly. “M’laird, the Camerons sent their healer—she says that Johnny might live.”

“He’s still alive?” Elizabeth demanded. Without another word, she flipped back the flap of the tent and was infused with joy at the sight of the burly Irishman stretched out on the palette. He was pale, but his chest was rising. “Oh—Jason—”

Jason helped Elizabeth take a seat before crouching next to Johnny. “Thank you,” he told the warrior. “You saved my family.”

Johnny opened his eyes, just slits. “She’s…you found her.”

“Because you slowed him down—thank you—” Elizabeth frowned when Jason stopped her from coming to his side. “I’m all right—”

“Rest,” Jason told Johnny. “We’ll leave for Braegarie in the morning.” He squeezed Johnny’s hand. “Thank you,” he repeated.”

“Aye, well, took me long enough to get used to her,” Johnny muttered. His eyes closed. “Don’t wanna break in another…lass…”

——

Elizabeth pushed Jason not to rest too long on the journey home—Johnny was following behind them, much more slowly—but she wanted to be back at Braegarie—she wanted to see her boys—

They reached the keep by the evening of the next day, and Elizabeth rushed right past Jason’s started aunt to the master bedroom.

“My lady!” Lulu’s eyes were wide as she took in Elizabeth’s scratched face and ruined hands. “Are you all right?”

“I am—” Elizabeth looked at bed where she found Cameron curled up in the furs, his face scrunched up in sleep. Jake was also sleeping peacefully, in the cradle where Lulu sat. Her boys were safe. “I’m fine. You can go for the night—”

“Aye, m’lady,” Lulu murmured as she slipped around Jason and left. Elizabeth stayed where she was, her feet fixed to the floor.

“Elizabeth?” He put a hand at the small of her back. “Let me call for Barbara—those scratches—” Jason took a hand in his, grimacing at the pain he knew she was hiding from him.

“They’re safe.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, tears sliding down her face. “It’s all I ever wanted. I wanted them to be safe.”

“They are. We all are,” he told her. Jason drew her into his arms, breathing easier when she relaxed against him. “I’ll call for a bath and for Barbara.”

“All right.” Elizabeth managed a smile, then looked up at him. “It’s over. I don’t—I don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I—I should have kept you home,” Jason muttered, but she shook her head.

“No. It was always going to happen,” Elizabeth told him. “Whether Stavros found out about me from Albany or some other way — he was Emily’s stepfather. It was always going to happen. If we’d stayed home this year, it would have been next year. I can see that now. I can feel it.” She took a deep breath. “The vision—the nightmares that followed—I was so sure I was seeing my death. I could feel the heat—”

“Elizabeth—”

“But I never saw how it ended. You came and you stopped it. You saved my life.”

“You saved mine, too,” Jason reminded her. He stroked her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She leaned up and kissed him lightly. “And I can’t wait to start the rest of our lives. We’re finally free.”

+9

Written in  56 minutes. Did a spellcheck but not a reread.

Elizabeth watched numbly as the men remaining at festival completed the caber toss. She couldn’t remember what excuse she offered to Emily as to why Cameron had stayed behind with Francis at the tent, but her sister-in-law seemed to accept it.

Emily clapped happily as her husband strode out onto the field, having replaced Jason in the competition while Elizabeth tried very hard to avoid looking at the Cassadines just a few feet away—Stavros was so close, she could scarcely breathe.

She could feel Johnny behind her and tension radiating from Jason’s first in command was palpable. He was careful not to stand too close but neither did he let much space come between them. If Stavros made a move, Johnny was ready.

She was still practically vibrating, her mind racing, and everything inside screaming to run, to get her babies away from this man. To be safe behind the walls of Braegarie.

“Nearly done,” Johnny muttered behind her. “You’re doing well, my lady.”

“Not so bad for a Lowland lass,” Elizabeth said, reminding him of the first relatively nice thing he’d ever said to her nearly three years earlier when they’d traveled from Edinburgh. She flashed him a smile full of nerves and he just raised a brow.

“You survived a Highland winter and you’ve given our laid two strong sons. I think it’s safe to call you a Highland woman,” Johnny said. His mouth tightened as the caber toss came to an end. “Let’s head back to the camp site—”

“Oh, but Nikolas and his men won!” Emily said. She grabbed Elizabeth’s sleeve. “Won’t you want to celebrate with us?”

“I’m feeling a bit tired,” Elizabeth said. She flashed Emily a smile and avoided the prickle of unease as Stavros joined them. “And the boys are napping. Cameron can be disoriented when he wakes from a nap.”

“Oh, well, then come by the camp later,” Emily offered.

“Yes. With Morgan gone to help Camerons, you must let us look out for you,” Stavros said.

“That’s why he left me,” Johnny said, stepping slightly in front of Elizabeth. “And I can look out for my lady quite well enough. Excuse me.” He took Elizabeth by the elbow and drew her away without another word.

“I thought we were trying not to draw attention to us,” Elizabeth said, feeling a strange spurt of amusement trickle through her anxious terror. It felt almost ridiculous to want to laugh, but maybe that was the hysteria.

“I also don’t like him and he knows it,” Johnny replied. “I’m Jason’s first in command. It’s insult to suggest that I can’t protect you.” They rounded the hill and found Francis and some of the other men milling in front of the tent. Elizabeth’s heart began to race in relief — Francis looked almost relaxed which meant the boys were safe inside.

“If Jason isn’t back by nightfall,” Elizabeth said, “I want you to split us up.”

Johnny scowled. “What—”

“I’ll stay with you or Francis, but send the boys home separately.” She swallowed hard. “They come first, Johnny. And if Stavros comes for me, I don’t want the boys anywhere near. He’ll be focused on me. Please.”

Johnny grimaced, but didn’t respond.

“How was the competition?” Francis asked. “The boys woke a little while ago,” he told Elizabeth, “but Lu was able to get little Jake back to sleep. Cameron was looking for you.”

“I’ll see to him.” She ducked beneath the flap.

“Johnny?” Francis prompted.

“Jason should have realized by now that I’m not following,” Johnny said. “I was supposed to have met with him, and I would have caught up already. I’m hoping he’s on his way back now.”

“And if he’s not—”

“If he’s not—” Johnny turned and looked towards the edge of the lake. They couldn’t see the Cassadine encampment, but he could picture it in his mind. Stavros might have been insulting Johnny with the invitation to look out for Elizabeth, but there had been a look in his eye that had sent shivers down his spine—and Johnny O’Brien didn’t scare easily.

“If he’s not,” Johnny repeated, “then you’ll take Francis, Lu, and two of your best men quietly with the boys. You’ll head for Braegarie.”

“Johnny—”

“Elizabeth and I will go over to the camp to distract them,” Johnny continued. “I want the boys away from here as quickly as possible. If you travel through the night, you’ll be home by mid-day tomorrow.”

“And you and Elizabeth will follow?”

“I’ll take her another route,” Johnny continued. “She wants the boys safe, and that means I can’t risk Stavros running into you if he comes after her. We’ll distract him for a few hours while you get safely on the road. She’s right. If he’s looking for her, he’ll leave the lads alone.”

Francis’s lips thinned, but he nodded. “Aye, that sounds like the safest best. You and Elizabeth will be able to move more quietly and quickly on your own.”

“Aye, the rest of the encampment will stay here. No one will even know we’ve left until the morning. I’ll leave Milo behind with a note for Jason if he returns.” Johnny took a deep breath. “He’ll never forgive himself if anything happens to her. Not after he pushed her to come to this festival.”

“Nothing will happen,” Francis said confidently. “We’ll get Elizabeth and the boys back to Braegarie, and then Jason can hunt this animal down and end the threat for good.”

—

“Has your man abandoned you?” Alexander Cameron demanded, almost good-naturedly as he and Jason left the barn where David Hume and his wife had been hiding out from de la Bastie. “He should have found us by now—”

“Aye, he should have. We settled out David and Alison here just two weeks ago,” Jason admitted. “He knew where we were going.” He exhaled slowly. “There might be trouble. He wouldn’t have left if there was—” He’d had to leave his family behind—it was his duty—but the only reason Johnny wouldn’t have followed is if there was a threat to them.

Had Elizabeth’s nightmare come true? Had one of the boys fallen ill?

“Then we should get back to the festival grounds,” Alexander said, reading the expression on Jason’s face. “You’ve done your duty by us and the Humes. It’s our turn to do the same.”

—

Elizabeth did her best to smile and enjoy the evening by the Cassadine encampment, though she knew with the rise of the moon in the sky that her sons were already on their way home.

She’d kissed and hugged them both fiercely, praying this wasn’t the last she’d see of them. She knew Johnny would do his best to get her home safely—she knew Jason was probably already on his way back—

“Are you missing my brother that much?” Emily teased as she sat down next to Elizabeth. “Johnny should relax. I’m sure Stavros was just having fun with him earlier—” She eyed the scowling Irishman who was less than three feet from them. “It’s the last night of the festival. He should go have a good time—”

Elizabeth smiled faintly. “He takes his duties very seriously. And I’m only a few months from childbed,” she reminded Emily who flinched slightly. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I wasn’t thinking—”

“No, of course. It’s quite fine. Nikolas—he tells me it’s all right, and I believe him.” Emily took a deep breath. “But is it wonderful?” she asked wistfully. “Being a mother?”

“Aye,” Elizabeth said, tears stinging her eyes. “‘Tis the hardest thing I’ve ever done but the most amazing at the same time. Cameron—I love to watch him following Jason. He wants to do everything, be everything—he’s so impatient to grow up.” She closed her eyes, picturing the face of her eldest son, with his sunny blond hair and bright blue eyes.

They were gone from her — vanished like they had in the dream. Jason had gone first, then the boys. Was this how it would start?

“I hope one day that I’ll be able to have it,” Emily said. “Not just for Nikolas and his family, but for me. I want to be a mother. More now that I’ve seen Jake and Cameron. You and my brother are so happy. You’re a family. I want that.”

“You’ll have that,” Elizabeth told her. “Families come in all shapes and forms, Emily. But I know you’ll have what you deserve.”

“Lass—” Johnny murmured. “We should—”

“Aye.” Elizabeth rose to her feet, hoping that the anxiety and worry in her eyes didn’t show when Stavros also rose to his feet from across the fire pit. “Thank you so much for the meal—”

“Do you need to go already?” Emily said, with a pout. “We’ll all be leaving in the morning.”

“I’m still—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “My son is young,” she said, raising her voice slightly as Stavros came closer. “And I need to see to him.”

“Oh, aye—” Emily nodded. “I’ll come by in the morning. I hope Jason is back by then.”

“So do I,” Elizabeth said. She smiled brightly, then hugged her sister-in-law. “You mustn’t tell anyone,” she murmured in her ear. “Promise me you’ll keep this to yourself—you’ll be with child by the end of the year.”

Emily blinked at her as she pulled back, her eyes widening. She nodded. “I’ll write,” she said, faintly. “And I will listen to what you’ve said.”

“Elizabeth,” Johnny said, taking her by the elbow. Elizabeth followed him and said nothing until they had rounded the hill that separated the encampments.

“Did Francis get on his way when he was supposed to?” Elizabeth asked numbly.

“Aye. I saw the signal from Milo. He’ll have been on the road for hours already. He took the best of our men, Elizabeth. The boys couldn’t be safer.”

“Thank you. For doing as I asked.” When they reached the tent, she stopped to look at him. “When do you want us to make our escape?”

“I want to wait for some of the celebrations to dim a bit more. Most are still going strong,” Johnny said, scanning the area. “And I’m hoping Jason will be back sooner rather than later. He should be on his way now. The Humes were maybe two hours away—” He looked at her, but she couldn’t read his expression in the shadows of the night. “This would be a great time for you to get a vision, lass, and tell us how this ends.”

“I wish I could,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, “but the Sight has never been predictable. I wish we could slip away now.”

“Aye, but we want to make sure we’re gone in the cover of the night. I can cover our tracks better.” He flipped the tent flap and gestured for her to go inside. “Go inside, lass. I know you won’t be able to sleep, but try to rest. We’ll be walking through the night.”

Elizabeth flashed him a grim smile and disappeared inside the tent. Johnny slid the flap back in place and turned around, scanning the area around him. Their encampment was surrounded by Camerons and Frasiers, many of whom had either gone with Alexander and Jason or were at the main festivals.

He’d wait maybe thirty minutes to be sure — but he knew Stavros wouldn’t want to chance running into Jason and this—the last night of the festival was the best time to attack. Johnny just hoped Stavros would wait until the wee hours when they were supposed to be sleeping.

—

But Stavros had watched the interaction between the witch and her protector all day—since the moment O’Brien had stayed behind, he’d known something was wrong. When he’d let the witch come to the meal—Stavros had been convinced.

The woman must have sensed his righteousness, his conviction and dedication to the Lord. Albany and de la Bastie might want her delivered to Sterling, but Stavros had an obligation to God to rid the world of evil.

He went around to the back of the encampment, around the other side of the hill, careful to keep his steps light, the claymore tight in his grasp. He would get the witch away from the protector and take her to the woods where he’d assembled his pyre.

He was looking forward to hearing her screams as the evil was purged from her body.

He crept up behind the tent—but was nearly ten feet away when O’Brien swung around and growled. He flipped the tent flap back —

“Run!” he grunted then he launched himself at Stavros who hissed as a dark shadow lurched out of the tent, stumbling and falling over herself. He shoved the warrior aside but O’Brien was quicker—younger—he found himself on his back, his fingers scrambling and reaching for the claymore that had been knocked from his hand.

Johnny reared back with his own weapon but before he could plant the killing blow, Stavros flashed up with a dagger from inside his shirt and shoved it into Johnny’s gut. The other man fell back, grunting but then slugged Stavros hard in the side of the head—

His head was swimming, little pinpricks of light—he could hear screams and grunts from around him—but he had to get his feet—he had to get to the witch before she could escape—

“You’ll never find her—”

Stavros cut off Johnny’s boast as he shoved his claymore into the Irishman—much deeper than the dagger thrust. Johnny fell back, and Stavros didn’t even wait to see if it was a mortal blow. He was on his feet and running into the woods.

Time to burn the witch.

Johnny rolled over on his back, fire in his gut, blood on his lips. He stared up at the night sky, tears of rage in his eyes. He’d promised Jason he’d protect his family—

He heard a roar—horses were galloping—

“Where is—”

Someone skidded in the dirt beside him and Johnny felt himself being lifted up to see Jason’s panicked face.

“Stavros,” Johnny managed. “Sent boys away, but she’s—she’s alone. Running. Tried to stop—”

“My laird, my laird—” Milo Giambetti came up behind them. “Max went after my lady, before the Cassadine—”

“I’m sorry—” Johnny managed even as his vision grayed. “Tried to stop him.”

“Aye, aye, get him help,” Jason told Milo as he got to his feet and took off, swinging himself back onto the horse.

Johnny turned to watch his best friend and brother gallop away and hoped he wouldn’t be too late. Then he closed his eyes.

—

She was running, she was running so fast her lungs were burning and still she knew she couldn’t get away—he were going to find her— he were going to take her—she wasn’t going to be able to get away—they would find her—Oh, God, was Johnny all right? Was he alive?—

Her foot caught on a root and she went flying—waves of pain vibrating up her leg as Elizabeth tried to get to her feet, planting the palms of her hands against the ground, trying to raise herself up—

The moment she put weight on her ankle, she cried out—and then hissed, because now he find her—

“Did you really think you could run—”

Elizabeth rolled over on her back, her eyes wide as she saw him—”Why?” she choked out. “Why are you doing this?”

Stavros knelt beside her, took Elizabeth’s chin in his hand, his fingers digging into her skin. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.”

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her, Elizabeth sobbing, her breath harsh and ragged as she tried to move her legs. If she could just get away—if she could just stop it—

She felt like he dragged her for hours, but it must have only been minutes before they reached a clearing. Stavros shoved her to the ground so that she was on her stomach, her face hitting the dirt. She raised her face just high enough to see the makeshift pile of wood with the tall wooden pole in the middle, strands of rope.

She screamed, and Stavros kicked her hard in the stomach, the wind rushing out of her. Elizabeth fell onto her back, gasping for air, staring up at the night sky.

She’d never see her boys again. Never see Jason. She’d never go home.

She was going to burn.

+4

Written in 59 minutes. No time for reread/typo check.

After two days at the festival, Elizabeth could hardly believe that she’d fought so hard to stay at home. Though she and Emily had only just met, she felt an instant kinship with her husband’s sister and had been overjoyed to meet other women her age who seemed eager to build friendships with her.

“I always wondered what kind of woman my brother would marry,” Emily said as she and Elizabeth strolled along the loch the last day of the festival. Across the way, they could see the men setting up for the final events — finishing with the caber toss.

“Oh?” Elizabeth took Jake from her sister-in-law as the infant began to fuss. She saw Cameron trailing behind his father as Jason helped arrange the logs for the toss. She bit her lip, nearly calling out, but then Jason turned and picked up their son. He tossed Cameron on his shoulders again, keeping him out of the way of the men but still allowing him to feel part of it all.

Whatever happened on this trip or after it, she was glad she had this vision of her little boy, laughing and giggling, part of his father’s life. She had wanted to give him a bigger part of the world, and she’d done that.

“I thought he’d marry someone from the Camerons or Frasiers,” Emily continued, drawing Elizabeth’s attention back to her. “For alliances. That’s what our father did. I think he and my mother were happy. I never knew her,” she added, “but everyone says she was a good wife and lady to the clan. But I don’t remember Da being especially sad over her loss.”

“He never married again, though, did he?” Elizabeth pointed out. “He must have cared for her somewhat.”

“He had Aunt Tracy to look after us,” Emily said dryly. “And Jason was never a sickly child. No, he was destined to be a great leader. And it was his idea to allow outcasts into the clan. You know Johnny and Francis aren’t blood members.”

“No, their last names aren’t from this area, but I thought they’d been here since childhood—”

“They have. Da knew Johnny’s father in Sterling,” Emily explained, “and he and Jason were friends, but then his father died and Da took Johnny in. Raised them like brothers. That’s how Francis and Max and his brother joined. Jason gave them a family because he knew they’d be loyal to him.” She smiled at Elizabeth. “I’m glad that you’ve done that for him. He needed a family, too. I love watching him with Cameron.”

“I do, too,” Elizabeth murmured. She shaded her eyes as she looked over the loch again. Cameron easily went from Jason’s shoulders to Johnny’s. “He didn’t choose me.”

“He said that in one of his letters,” Emily said. “But I know my brother. I can tell how happy he is.”

Elizabeth flushed and was saved from having to respond when Emily’s eyes lit up. She picked her skirt up with both hands and darted away, down the hill towards her family’s campsite where a man with dark hair and dark eyes was waiting to scoop her off her feet and swing her around.

That must be Emily’s husband, Elizabeth thought as she ambled down after them. Nikolas and his father had had business in the Isles for the clan chieftain, Tormid MacLeod, and hadn’t been expected to make the festival at all. She was eager to meet the man who Emily adored so much that she put up with his difficult family.

“Nikolas, this is Jason’s wife,” Emily said as Elizabeth joined them. Elizabeth slid Jake beneath the sling she wore across her chest so that she could properly greet the man. “Elizabeth, this is Nikolas—and this is—” Emily’s smile dimmed slightly as an older man stepped towards them. “This is his father, Stavros Cassadine.”

Elizabeth stared at the man, the blood pounding in her ears, a chill sliding down her spine. “Hello,” she managed, forcing a smile on her face.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nikolas said, nodding at her. “Is this the newest addition to the Morgan clan?”

She ripped her gaze away from Stavros to Emily’s husband and nodded, numbly. “Aye, ’tis Jacob. We-we call him Jake. Cameron is with Jason.”

“Two sons,” Stavros said, his tone silky and smooth. He cast a sly glance at Emily who flushed and dipped her eyes away. “What a boon you’ve been to your husband. He’s very fortunate.”

Nikolas’s mouth tightened, the only recognition that he’d heard the slight against his wife. “Aye, the health of a child and his mother is the most important,” he said.

“I should leave you to enjoy your reunion with your husband,” Elizabeth said to Emily. She put her arms around Jake, tightening her hold on him. “I think Jake sohuld be out of the son.”

“I’ll come by later before the event,” Emily promised.

“I’ll walk you to your tent, Lady Morgan.”

Elizabeth turned back, her eyes as wide as saucers. “N-No, that’s not—” She looked around and gratefully saw Francis joining them. He’d been a bit behind trailing them at the loch. “Francis will take care of it. Francis, I want to go back to the tent.”

“Of course.”

She walked away quickly, putting the distance between them, the shaking in her hands spreading throughout her body until she was nearly vibrating by the time they reached the Morgan campsite where some of their men were milling around.

“Elizabeth—” Francis shoved the flap aside so she could walk in. She took Jake out of his sling and set him down into the cradle. “Should I get Jason—”

“I—” She squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, God. Oh, God. She’d never thought—she realized now she’d hoped it wasn’t true—that it had all been a lie—that she would never—

But the moment she’d seen Stavros Cassadine, the moment she’d heard that voice—

“Tell me about Emily’s family. The Cassadines. That’s a strange name for the isles.” Elizabeth turned to him, lacing her fingers together. “Do they have connections to the regent?”

Francis drew his brows together. “Aye, a slight one. The name is Greek, but they’ve been in Scotland since one of the kings picked them up during the Crusades. This branch of the family swears fealty to the MacLeods of Skye.” He hesitated. “My lady—”

“And the regent?”

“Nikolas went to university in Edinburgh,” Francis said slowly, “and came north to Sterling on a holiday. That’s how he and Emily met. Nikolas was one of the men in the king’s retinue for a time. I’m told he and Albany were friendly enough. I’m sure the families know each other. I’m going to get Jason—”

“Aye.” Elizabeth pressed her hands against her face. “Aye, that’ll be a good idea.” Francis would bring her Jason and they’d return to Braegarie immediately. “I won’t move from this place.”

“I’ll send some men for him—and Cameron,” Francis told her. “But I’m not leaving your side.”

“Thank you.”

—

“Do you want me to fetch your wife?” Johnny asked as he handed Cameron back to Jason. The toddler clambered back onto his father’s shoulders, his usual resting place. “She’s probably still with your sister.”

“Aye,” Jason agreed, then paused as a strange, shivery feeling crawled across his spine. He turned to look across the loch where he’d seen his sister and Elizabeth walking a while ago. Elizabeth was nowhere to be found but Emily and her husband was sitting at the edge. “I thought Nikolas was back in Skye—”

Johnny frowned and peered to follow his gaze. “Oh, mayhap he managed the trip. I hope he left that father of his at home.”

Jason arched a brow. “You don’t like Stavros? Why?”

“You sent me with Emily when she went to Skye five years ago,” Johnny reminded him. “I led the escort. He immediately sent her into the chapel to take confession.” He rolled his shoulders. “I don’t trust a Highlander that dedicated to the Church.”

“Aye, well—”

“And one of his cousins married into the Stuarts,” Johnny reminded him as the trio rounded the loch and Jason nodded to his sister. “He thinks he’s better than everyone else. You know he’s making your sister miserable.”

“Aye, well—” Uncomfortable because he knew his sister’s inability to conceive had been a sore point in her relationship and because he had no way to help, Jason let it go. “Maybe he stayed behind.”

“Maybe,” Johnny muttered.

They were just around the hillside from the campsite when they were stopped by a group of Camerons. “Morgan,” Alexander Cameron barked. “We need you and your men—”

Jason frowned. “We’re at the festival—”

“Aye, well, de la Bastie is in the area, and we think he’s found Hume’s hide out,” Alexander told him. “M’father is allied with the Humes, so we need to warn David and his brothers—”

Jason set his teeth. He wanted nothing to do with royal intrigue, but Hume’s battle with te Crown since Albany had had the laird of the family executed for rebelling against his regency threatened to overflow into open warfare. If another member of the family was killed—

“David Hume needs to find another place to hide his family,” Jason muttered. He lifted Cameron off his shoulders and handed him to Johnny. “Take him to Elizabeth. Tell her I’ve been called away.”

“Should I follow—”

Jason hesitated, then looked at Alexander who looked impatient. He could get away with leaving Francis behind with his wife and sons, but if he asked both of his best men to stay out of a possible battle — “Aye. As soon as Elizabeth and the boys are seen to, catch up with us.”

“Da?” Cameron said. “Cabers?”

“Not this year,” he told his son with real regret. “Da has to go to do his duty.”

“Duty.” Cameron nodded. “Mama says this is important.” He clung to Johnny. “Bye, Da.”

“Goodbye.” He ruffed the boy’s blond hair, and then turned back to Alexander and his men who had an extra horse waiting. “Tell Elizabeth I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Just as Jason and the Camerons disappeared into a cropse of trees, Milo rounded the hillside. “Johnny! Where’s the laird? M’lady needs him—”

Johnny scowled, tossed Cameron onto his shoulders, and headed for him. “What’s wrong?”

“I dinnae, but Francis said m’lady is fair shook. Tis an emergency.”

“Mama?” Cameron said. “Where’s Mama?’

“Let’s go, lad,” Johnny muttered as he quickened his pace. He found Francis pacing back and forth in front of the tent. “What’s the matter?”

“Where’s Jason?”

“Alexander Cameron called him away on a task for his father. Francis—”

“I can’t say for sure, but Elizabeth met Stavros Cassadine and her face went white.” Francis looked at Johnny, his lips pressed tightly together. “And now Jason isn’t here?”

“This—” Johnny exhaled slowly. “It can’t be related. Jason went to warn the Humes to vacate the area because de la Bastie is here on Albany’s business. That can’t have anything to do with Elizabeth.”

“No?” Francis lifted his brows. “‘Tis quite the coincidence, then.”

Johnny scowled and shoved Cameron at the other man, then went inside where Elizabeth was frantically shoving things into a chest. “Lass—”

“It was him. I saw him—” Elizabeth turned towards him, her cheeks tear stained. “Where’s Jason? We need to leave immediately—”

“He’s been called away on clan business,” Johnny told her. “Tell me what’s happened—”

“It was Stavros in the vision. Stavros who ordered me to burn—and he’s here. It was his voice, his face—” She stopped in the middle of the tent, her hands pressed to her face, her voice breaking. “He’s who I see every night in my nightmares.”

Johnny drew his brows together. “Jason never said you were still having the dreams—” He scowled. “You didn’t tell him.”

“He’d worry—but we need to leave. Jason can come later—” Elizabeth started past Johnny to roll up the bed pallet, but he took her gently by the arm.

“The boys will remain here with Francis,” Johnny told her. “And you’ll go with me to the caber toss. I’ll stay by your side, lass. And then we’ll come here, and wait for Jason. We cannot draw attention to you.”

“I—”

“Your instinct is to run for safety,” he told her. “And I can understand it. I don’t know all of it, but I know you’ve been scared of this moment for a long time.” Johnny paused. “But we’ll have a better chance if we slip away in the middle of the night. We leave in the middle of the day, he can follow.”

“What if Jason isn’t back by nightfall?” Elizabeth asked, her voice quivering. “What if Albany sent him to make good on this threats?”

“If Jason isn’t back by night fall, then you and I and the boys, and a few men will leave quietly. I swore an oath to Jason,” Johnny reminded her. “And I swore one to you and the boys. I promised him I would take care of his family. Let me do that.” He hesitated, thinking of Jason’s orders to follow him. He knew Jason would agree he was better off here.

“Okay. Okay.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “Okay. You’re right. I can do this.” She opened her eyes. “Let’s go to the caber toss.”

—

Stavros Cassadine watched as the Morgan party came around the hillside toward the festival grounds, with the lady of the clan flanked by Jason’s first in command, the Irishman. He frowned slightly—he’d not expected both of Jason’s commanders to stay behind when he’d been drawn away from his family—

But Stavros was ready for it. He’d smile and nodded as the Chevalier de la Bastie had commanded him to bring the Morgan woman to him, knowing the connection between the families would give Stavros a reason to be near Elizabeth Morgan.

But then de la Bastie had told him the truth. That she was suspected of witchcraft. That had changed everything.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” he murmured.

+4

Written in 55 minutes. This is a bit short. I wasn’t really feeling it tonight, so I hope it’s okay.

The festival was held in a valley not far from their home which made Elizabeth a bit less leery about taking the boys away from the keep. She consoled her off on the trip to the site by reminding herself that she knew the face and the man in her dream. The vision had been sent to warn her.

“We’ll be fine,” Jason promised her. He reached up and lifted her from her horse, sliding her to the ground. “Francis isn’t going to leave your side, and Johnny will be with the boys.”

“You should have left one of them at Braegarie,” she fretted as she turned to look at the wagon behind them, carrying their supplies, tents, the boys, and the nursery maid. Trailing behind the wagon was Johnny who didn’t look all that thrilled at being assigned to babysitting duty.

“The keep will survive a few days without us,” Jason reminded her. “Tracy and Max will be there.” He put his hand beneath her chin, lifting her face so that their eyes met. “I promised I would make you safe.”

“Aye.” She forced herself to smile. “I know. Let’s find your sister. I’m eager to meet her and learn everything your aunt wouldn’t tell me.”

Jason made a face, but then went over to help the men unload the wagon and retrieve his sons. He left Jake with Lulu, the nursery maid, but took Cameron up on his shoulders.

“Da, Da, look!” Cameron tugged on his blond hair. “Lots of people.”

“Let’s go meet some of them—” Jason began but then he heard a shriek that sounded familiar. He turned, grinning as he saw his sister dashing up the hill towards them.

“Jason!”

Emily Cassadine, formerly Morgan, threw herself into Jason’s arms. He hugged her back. “It’s good to see you,” he told her.

“And you—” Emily beamed as she pulled back. “And this is the oldest? Is this Cameron?”

“Aye.” Jason reached up to tug his son off his shoulders. “Cameron, this is your Aunt Emily, my sister.” He gestured for Elizabeth to join them. “And here is Elizabeth and our youngest, Jake.”

“Oh—” Emily pressed a fist to her mouth as her eyes misted. “Oh, they look just like you, Jason. I’m so happy to finally see them in person—” She looked over at Elizabeth. “Can I hold him?”

“Of course.” Elizabeth set the four-month-old infant in Jason’s sister’s arms. “I’m so glad we could be here.”

“I know. I haven’t seen Jason since I married.” Her lips trembled as she pressed them to Jake’s forehead. “They’re gorgeous. Oh, Jason—”

“I should see to setting up the tents,” Jason said, shifting uncomfortably at his sister’s display of emotions.

“Take Cameron with you. He’ll want to help,” Elizabeth advised him. She stretched up to kiss his cheek and then kissed Cameron. She turned to Johnny. “Johnny—”

“If you’re staying with Jake,” the soldier began, “I’ll stay with Cameron. They’ll need my help.”

Emily frowned as Jason, Johnny, and Cameron left them behind, then turned back to her sister-in-law. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, I’m just—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I’m just nervous about letting Cameron out of my sight. I’m terrible.”

“No, you just want him to be safe.” Emily cuddled Jake closer. “I’d be the same with my own.” She stroked a finger down Jake’s soft cheek. “I’ve been married for five years.” She looked at Elizabeth with sad eyes. “No babes.”

“I’m—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nikolas—my husband—he’s supportive.” The two of them began to stroll slowly towards the campsite. “He knows we’re both trying, but his family—” She lifted a shoulder. “They’re not as kind about it.”

She looked into the distance and Elizabeth caught sight of where Emily was looking — large and elaborate tents were already set up. Dark-haired men were wandering around the site. “Nikolas—he’s the only son of an only son. To hold onto the land, they need an heir.” Emily gestured for Elizabeth to take a seat next to her on the grassy knoll that overlooked many of the camp sites.

“That’s a lot of pressure.” Elizabeth reached over, and under the guise of adjusting a blanket around Jake’s body, she let her fingers drift over Emily’s shoulder. She saw the woman laboring in a bed, a man by the door pacing. “There’s always hope,” she said finally.

“I’m sorry. I just met you—” Emily flushed. “There’s just—there’s not many women at the estate, and Jason’s written such lovely things about you. You’ve made my brother so happy.” She beamed at Elizabeth. “Just look at him—and, oh, how adorable Cameron looks—”

Elizabeth did smile as she saw their son trailing behind Jason as they set up the tents. When Jason paused to put his hands at his waist, Cameron followed suit, fisting his tiny hands at his side.

Cameron looked so joyous following his father around—Elizabeth felt a trickle of shame for holding back—for not letting Cameron have this as often as he could.

“He loves his father,” Elizabeth murmured. “I’ve been very fortunate to be blessed with such a wonderful family.”

“Now all you need is a little girl to keep at home with you,” Emily teased. She handed Jake back to his mother. “Come along and meet some of the other women. They’ll love to coo and fuss over an infant.”

—

Jason watched as his wife and sister disappeared down the hill and waited as Francis followed behind them.

“She seems better now that we’re here,” Francis said.

“Maybe.” Jason hoped that was true, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she’d done this entirely for him—that given the choice, she’d still be locked behind the doors of the keep.

“And Johnny won’t let her out of her sight. Whatever she’s worried about—Albany would be a fool to come after her in the middle of all our allies.”

“I know.”

Francis frowned at him, but Jason lifted Cameron into his arms and turned to greet the group of men who were approaching.

“Cameron,” Jason nodded to the chieftain and the older man grinned and lightly embraced the youger man.

“This must be my namesake,” Lewis Cameron said with a broad smile. “Are you Cameron?”

“Aye. Da says I’m named for someone important.”

“So you are.” Lewis arched a brow at Jason. “Where is your lovely wife? Did you bring the new babe?”

“She’s visiting with my sister.” Jason shifted his son from side to the other. “Alexander—” He nodded to Lewis’s oldest son. “You’re back from Sterling?”

“Aye. I bring news of the White Knight. Da says you’ve problems with the regent,” Alexander said. “He’s still in France, but his minion has been wandering around our area looking for allies of the Humes.”

Jason grimaced. Antoine d’Arces, the Chevalier d’Arces, was one of Albany’s French allies and had been handling many of the day to day issues in the kingdom with Albany in France. He’d been on the hunt for David Hume and his family since they’d commited some sort of crime against the crown—

He was also an ardent follower of the Church and had been known to preside over witch hunts and trials which did not make him entirely popular in the Highlands.

“I thought I’d warn you that the man was lurking around. Just because Albany isn’t stinking up the place, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have friends.”

+4

Written in 65 minutes. Sorry went slightly over, but these things happen.  No time for spell check.

On the third anniversary of the day she’d come to Braegarie, Elizabeth delivered their second son. Throughout her second pregnancy, she’d hoped and prayed for a girl — anything to prove that the vision all those months ago had been a mistake.

But when Barbara gleefully announced she had a healthy son, Elizabeth had only a moment of regret before the healer placed the newborn into her arms and she fell in love with him—even though he was proof that her time was limited.

“Two sons in three years,” Barbara said with a wide grin to Tracy. “The men will drink themselves silly in celebration.”

Tracy rolled her eyes, but she was also smiling as she and one of the maids helped change the linens and Elizabeth wash up. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said to Elizabeth in a low voice, “but you cannot be thinking about that now.”

“Aye, I know. It could still be wrong,” Elizabeth said. “Will you bring Jason in?”

“I’ll fetch him.” Tracy paused as Barbara pulled open the door. “This is a good day, Elizabeth,” she promised her niece. “You’ve done well by this clan. And this family. My nephew will take care of everything.”

Elizabeth said nothing, just stared down into the red, scrunched up face of her second child. Cameron had just passed his second birthday—and she knew in her vision that he’d been three. It had been a lovely summer day, warm by the spring when they’d disappeared—

But had that been the dream? Had she been dreaming of their future when the vision slipped in to destroy everything? That was was the trouble with the visions that came while she slept. By the time she could determine dream from truth, the vision would have come to pass.

She had been running in unfamiliar woods—could she simply just not leave keep until the boys were older? She could stay on Morgan lands, within the confines of the courtyard. She stroked a finger down her son’s cheek. “What kind of man will you grow to be? Will I be here to see it?”

“Mama!”

She looked up and grinned as her husband and son came through the doorway. Jason set Cameron on the bed as he rounded the foot and joined her. “Dearest, come meet your little brother.”

Cameron made a face as he sat back on his heels with a frown. “He’s little,” he said with a pout. “You said he could play with me.”

“When he grows,” Jason told their son, reaching across Elizabeth to ruffle the light blonde hair he’d inherited from his father. He smiled at Elizabeth. “Aunt said we have another son.”

“Aye. Barbara said he was perfect.” Elizabeth held out the precious bundle and Jason accepted him, a bit more comfortable than he had been the day of Cameron’s birth.

“You’re all right?” Jason raised his eyes from their son, worry lurking within. “We should let you rest. I’ll get Cameron to bed—”

“I’m just tired,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head, then leaned her head back, closing her eyes. When Cameron had been born, she’d been pragmatic. They had years before they had to worry about her vision, after all. She’d hoped that something would happen to assuage her worries—

But even the brief kidnapping hadn’t eliminated the fear. Albany had sailed to France on other business, and she hoped that meant he’d given up. They were safe here, and Jason hadn’t had to leave nearly as often this last year.

“Papa, she’s sleeping—”

“No—” Elizabeth opened her eyes just as Jason started to stand from the bed. “No, just resting.”

“I’ll take Cameron to Aunt Tracy,” Jason told her, “and I’ll be back—”

“What’s my brother’s name?” Cameron demanded as Jason settled the baby into the bassinet that had once held their oldest son. “What are we calling him?”

Jason looked at her, and Elizabeth knew what he wanted to know. They’d named Cameron after his mother’s family and their ally. And the boy in the vision.

“What do you suggest, Cam?” Elizabeth said, forcing a smile. She would not give in this time. She would not let Fate win.

Cameron furrowed his brow. “I have an important name. He should, too. Auntie says we’re Jacko-bees.”

“Jacobins,” Jason clarified as a strange expression slid over his features. “It means we’re loyal to King James—”

“Can we call him Jacob?” Cameron asked. “Like the king, only it’s his own name?”

Her heart pounding as her son suggested the very name their infant son had had in her vision, Elizabeth met Jason’s eyes. She’d tried to run from it. She’d tried to change the future.

“Aye, I think Jacob is a fine name,” she said, hollowly. “We’ll call him Jake for short.”

—

Jason strode in from the courtyard to find a small figuring streaking past him. He reached over and plucked Cameron up. “Where are you going?”

“Out,” Cameron muttered. He clutched his tiny fists in his father’s shirt. “Mama says no. I wanna swim.”

Jason pressed his lips together and looked over to find his wife by the head table, an irritated expression etched into her features. Of course Elizabeth didn’t Cameron to go swimming. In the two months since Jake had been born, her worry over what might happen had only worsened. She rarely left the keep — Jake hadn’t been outside once — and the only times Jaosn had been able to get Cameron outside these walls was when she was sleeping.

“Let’s go talk to her, all right?” Jason told his son.

“Don’t even start,” Elizabeth warned as the two of them approached. She put her hands on her hips and glared at Jason. “I told you—”

“I know. But it’s a warm day,” Jason said patiently, “and I’ll take him. You can stay here.”

“No, I—” Elizabeth stopped when Cameron’s face lit up. “Can we talk about this somewhere else? Without him?”

Jason glanced around and saw some curious stares. He might understand her reluctance to allow herself or their boys outside of the keep, but all their people saw was the lady of the clan acting strangely.

While he was confident in the loyalty of their people, he wasn’t willing to place all his trust in them. The Old Ways were still practiced, but just as many were devout followers of the Church.

“No,” Jason said after a long moment. “I’ll take him swimming, and you’ll stay here.” This time when he said the words, they weren’t a suggestion. They were an order. Elizabeth stared at him and her lower lip quivered slightly.

He hadn’t given her an order in years—since the day she’d told him the truth about her past, they’d been a team and he’d allowed her to take charge since Jake’s birth, keeping Cameron cooped upside the keep. He knew her worries—but damn it, these were his children, too—

“I see. All right.” Elizabeth lifted her chin. “Then I’ll stay here. Excuse me, I have things to see to in the kitchen.” She whirled around and stalked out of the hall. Jason winced — he’d pay for that later.

“Swimming?”

He looked at his son, then nodded. “Aye, let’s go swimming.”

—

She fumed all afternoon—especially when one of Jason’s men came in and told her that Jason was taking Cameron to ride out on the borders—something he’d often done in the last six months, but not once since Jake’s birth.

He was making it clear what he thought of her desire to keep Cameron safe, and Elizabeth hoped that her hurt and fear didn’t show on her face.

“I’ll speak with him,” Tracy said when the two weren’t back by supper. “There’s making a point and then there’s being a cur.”

“He’s within his rights to take our son wherever he likes,” Elizabeth said tightly as she stared at her plate of food, not an ounce of appetite to be found. “You agree with him.”

“Not—” Tracy paused. “Not entirely. But in part.” She turned to her niece. “You told him you wouldn’t go to the clan gathering this summer. That he couldn’t take Cameron with him.”

“I—”

“It bothered him,” Tracy told her and Elizabeth sighed. She’d known it—and he’d let it go because she’d been upset. She’d cried. “He hasn’t seen his sister in several years, and Emily has never been much of a letter writer. She and her family will be there.”

“I know. I want to meet her. I want Jason to see her, for her to meet our boys, I just—” She couldn’t forget the vision. Even all these years later—

She’d never told Jason, had been very careful to keep it from him—but the vision had just turned into a recurring nightmare. The details had been so fresh and clear that night and they often came back to haunt her.

The pounding fear, the voice of the man who had come for her, the terror of not knowing if her boys were safe—had they been stolen from the stream? Had it been another moment that night? Would she know the last time she held them before the flames consumed—

“Elizabeth?”

She blinked, looked at her aunt, then exhaled slowly. “He thinks I don’t trust him to protect us.” She met Tracy’s eyes. “And he’s right.”

“Because of what happened with the regent.”

“Aye. And because—because I keep trying to stop it. I told myself I wouldn’t give Jake the name from the vision—and Cameron picked it anyway. I want to keep the boys safe with me here, and Jason wants to take them out—and they should go. They should be with him. I want to be—” She bit her lip. “But I can’t forget. I can’t rest. They’re everything to me. I need them to be safe.”

“Well, something has to give,” Tracy said firmly. “None of you can go on this way.”

“Something already has,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “Jason’s made his position clear, and I’ll have to follow. Excuse me. I need to go upstairs and see to Jake.”

—

It was less than an hour later when Jason finally returned to the keep, his sleeping son tucked in his arms. He passed the boy to the nursery maid who promised to put him down for the night, and then turned to find his furious aunt by the fire.

“Whatever you’re going to say,” Jason began as Tracy lifted her brows, “don’t. I know that I shouldn’t have kept him out. I didn’t mean to—but he asked—”

“And you wanted to make sure your wife knew exactly how little power she has.” Tracy folded her arms. “You think she’s being unreasonable wanting the boys to stay behind while you go to the gathering next month?”

“No,” Jason said after a moment. “I know that her vision happened away from here. All the same—”

“All the same, nephew, she’s the one who felt the flames. She’s the one who has foreseen her own death.”

Shame licked at Jason’s throat as he looked towards the stairs. He knew that. He’d remembered the night she’d had the vision—the shaking, the terror, the pallor of her skin—

“Would it be so terrible to let her have this? Once Jake reaches his first birthday, she’ll worry less—”

“Or will she convince herself that she dreamed their ages?” Jason demanded. “If I give in now, how long will she lock herself up in these walls?” He shook his head. “No. I know her worry. I know her fear. But I can’t let it run our lives. I can’t let it be in charge of my children.”

He left his aunt behind and climbed the stairs to their bedchamber where he found Elizabeth sitting by the fire, their son at her breast.

She glanced up at his approach, then looked back down at Jake. “Is Cameron abed?”

“Aye. He fell asleep on our way back.” He took the chair across from her. “Elizabeth—”

“You think I don’t trust you to protect me,” Elizabeth said. “Or the boys.” She met his eyes. “What happened with the regent was not your fault. I don’t blame you for that. I could have insisted on staying here. You were two days away. We might have withstood a seige that long.”

“You didn’t want to risk the people. Or their crops.” Jason scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t pretend that I know what you went through. What you go through every day, wondering if this is the day. I know that I have the same fear,” he added, “but I know it’s different for you.”

“I thought I was giving up my chance to be a mother when Albany took me to Sterling,” Elizabeth said. “I never expected to get it back. I never expected to have any children. Or a husband.” She closed her eyes. “Did Cameron have a good time?”

“Yes.”

“He loves you. I knew he would. He did in the dream. He wants to be just like you.” She cleared her throat. “And I don’t want him to hate me.”

“He couldn’t—”

Elizabeth sighed and rose to put Jake into his cradle for the night. Jason went over to her, touched her shoulder. “Elizabeth—”

“My mother wanted me to be quiet. To be invisible. My father locked me up in my rooms.” She looked around the bedchamber. “What I’m doing to Cameron, to myself—to all of us. It’s no different.”

He drew her into his arms, feeling his chest loosen when she relaxed into his embrace. He hadn’t pushed her too far. “You want to protect us. You’ve always put us first. I love you for that.”

“And you’ve always pushed me further than I was comfortable.” She raised her face to his. “I love you for that.”

He brushed his mouth over hers, then rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry for today,” he said.

“So am I.” Elizabeth waited a moment. “We’ll go to the gathering. All of us. We’ll take the boys and we’ll see your sister—”

“You don’t—” Jason shook his head. “You don’t have to—”

“But I do.” Elizabeth smiled, though it was a pained one. “I’m terrified, but I don’t want to live my life that way. All my life I dreamed of a bigger world. I have it now. And I want to give it our sons.”

He kissed her again. “I promise I’ll protect you,” he vowed. “We’ll be safe.”

“I know you will.” She patted his chest. “Come, let’s go to bed.” Elizabeth eyed him over her shoulder. “Barbara says it’s been long enough since Jake was born, and I’ve missed you.”

He grinned at that and joined her in the bed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she hadn’t really changed her mind—

Had she just stopped believing they could stop the inevitable?

+4

Written in 55 minutes. Did a spell check but not a reread.

Jason scowled at his wife, seeing the stubborn set of her face. “What do you mean, you can’t go?” he demanded. “You knew I’d come after you!”

“I knew—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I knew your honor would demand it—”

“My honor—”

“But why do you think I left with Albany?” she interrupted. “He threatened to burn the keep to the ground, to kill anyone who stopped him—” Her voice faltered. “He said he’d arrest you for treason—so you have to go—”

“You think I’m worried about—”

“We always agreed that our marriage would last only as long as my secret didn’t threaten the clan.” Elizabeth twisted her fingers together as tears slid down her cheeks. “Now it has, and I’m sorry—but if you go now, Cameron will have you—”

“We never—I never—” Jason stared at her, bewildered. “I never told you that—”

“That day by the lake—”

“I said I would not press you for your secret, not that—” He grunted. “We’re wasting time. I’m not leaving you here. So you can come willingly or we’ll argue it about once we’re on the road—”

“Jason—” She twisted away when he tried to grab her arm and he grimaced. He really didn’t want to have to tie her up and drag her out of this castle, but he might just have to—

“Damn it, Elizabeth—”

“No! No! I won’t let him kill you! I won’t let him take everything away from your family—”

“You’re my family!” Jason cut in roughly, taking her by the shoulders. “You and Cameron—why do you think I came for you?”

“B-Because—” She blinked at him. “You’re a good man—” She took a deep breath. “You’re a good man,” Elizabeth repeated. “And I’m glad I was able to see you one more time. To thank you for making me a wife and mother—”

“Was I all alone in that, then? I don’t owe you anything for making me a husband or father?” he bit out. “You’re giving up on our son and marriage that easily?”

“No—” Stunned, her eyes widened. “No! I’m trying to protect you! I love you, Jason! I don’t want you to lose your lands and the clan—”

“What good is any of that if I lose you?” he retorted.

Her lip trembled, and she closed her eyes again, flinching. His anger subsided. She’d been threatened and terrorized into leaving their home, and he’d not been there to stop it. And he couldn’t imagine what she’d been through in the days since Albany had taken her away. Were their bruises he couldn’t see?

“Elizabeth,” he tried again, softening his voice. “Please. I’m sorry. I—I know you’re trying to protect us all. I might do the same in your place.” He paused, and forced himself to admit, “In fact, if I thought I could send you home to Cameron and give up myself, I’d do it.”

“So you understand why you have to go and why I have to stay.”

“No, I just understand why you think that’s true.” Jason reached out, put his finger tip under her chin turn to turn her face towards him. “Can you look at me? Please.”

She opened her eyes. “I know you will take care of Cameron. A-And Tracy will do a wonderful job—”

“Aye, she’ll be a fierce aunt. But the boy needs us both. I need you.” He hesitated. “I love you, too, Elizabeth. Enough to know that as long as I have you and Cameron, we can face anything.”

“You—” Her eyes searched his. “Do you—you’re not—you wouldn’t just say that because I did. That’s—that’s not who you are.”

He leaned down to kiss her gently, and she trembled against him. “Did you think you were the only one who fell in love?” he murmured into her ear.

“I just never believed anyone might—” Elizabeth touched his chest. “I want to go home, Jason. I’m just so scared. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Trust me to see to it—”

“I wondered if you’d be stupid enough to come after her—”

They turned to find Albany in the open door way, and Jason grimaced, tucking Elizabeth behind him. “You may regret demanding that I marry her,” he told the regent evenly, “but we both know that the law says she’s my property now.”

“The law says what I want it to,” the regent said with a lift of a brow. “And if I have my men arrest you for treason?”

“Then I’ll call up the Camerons and Frasiers. Half of the Highlands will be at your gates,” Jason said flatly. “But you must know how many men I have outside the city.” He paused. “That’s what I could get together with an hour’s notice. You think it won’t grow?”

“I think you overestimate how important you are—”

“And you underestimate how much the Highlands hate you,” Jason retorted. “They know that today it might be my wife you come after, but it might be their land or their people tomorrow.” He fisted his hands at his side. “You’re not in Edinburgh, Albany. The people of Stirling aren’t that fond of you. How do you think I got inside?”

Albany’s lips thinned as he pressed them together. He glared at Elizabeth. “You think if I let you walk out of here now that this is over?”

“I think you would be advised to forget you ever knew me,” she said softly. She tilted her head the side. “Aye, it might be for the best. You’ll have your hands full in the next few years. Not that you have many left.”

Albany stared at her, his face paling slightly. “You’re lying.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Would you like to know for sure—” Elizabeth stepped forward, her hand held out and Albany stumbled back.

“Get out,” the regent said flatly. “But this won’t be the last time we meet.”

“No—” Jason stopped as they passed the man, and his jaw clenched. “It won’t be. But if you step foot on my lands again without permission, I’ll kill you and deal with the consequences.”

—

Elizabeth honestly couldn’t believe that Jason had been able to talk their way out of the castle so easily — but as he hurried her down the stairs and to the entrance, she knew that he still expected trouble.

“Do you think they’ll stop us on our way out of town?”

“They might and try to claim an accident,” Jason said as they came to the courtyard where his horse was still tied—and he saw that Johnny and Francis had caught up to him. They were waiting next to their horses.

“You found her? Good,” Johnny grunted, nodding at her. “Let’s get out of here—did you have to kill anyone?”

“No,” Jason said as he lifted Elizabeth onto the horse, then mounted in front of her. “But we need to get out of here now.”

“Aye, best decision I’ve heard all day,” Francis said.

It was the last word any of them spoke as the trio of horses galloped hard out of Stirling, putting as much distance between the castle and Elizabeth as possible. She clung to her husband, stunned that she was going home—that the regent had let them go—

Until they reached the city gates and she saw the men Jason had mentioned. She blinked. “There must be more than—”

“We managed a hundred of our own,” Jason said, frowning. “And we had fifty more from the Camerons—” He turned to Francis. “When did the rest arrive?”

“They were a day behind us on the trail,” Francis said. “Cameron sent another fifty, and, well the Frasiers sent at least seventy warriors. We might not have taken the castle, but we’d have done some damage.” He and Johnny went over to talk to the other men, to tell them what had happened

“You didn’t know there this many? Were you bluffing?” Elizabeth asked Jason as he lifted her down from his horse and walked her over to one of the extra horses. They’d cover more ground if she were on her own mount.

“I was hoping, but I didn’t expect more than twenty. This—this explains why he let us go.” Jason paused, seeing her confusion. “He only holds the power of the regency through the council. They could take it away. And a Highlander rebellion over his theft of a wife—” Jason shrugged. “He gambled that I’d let you go.”

“He underestimated you again.” Elizabeth leaned up to press her lips against his gently. “And I did as well. I’m sorry. You came all this way and then I argued with you.”

“You were trying to protect us.” Jason tucked her hair behind her ear. “I can’t be angry for that.”

“Cameron’s okay? Did he take to the nurse from the village?” Elizabeth demanded. “I worried—”

Jason hesitated. “Aye, he’s eating. But Tracy says he’s cried for you since you left. I couldn’t stay, so I don’t know.”

“How quickly can we be home?” Elizabeth demanded. Now that she was free, all she wanted was to be with her son.

“We’ll go as quickly as we can,” Jason promised. He helped her to mount, then went to his own horse.

Elizabeth took up the reins, and fell into line next to her husband’s horse, glancing over her shoulder once more that the turrets of Stirling Castle. She’d worry for the little boy king around all those people who only wanted his power, but she wanted to be at home with her son.

She needed to know if f she been wrong. If that dream had been a vision—if there was another child in her future—

Which meant that she still wasn’t out of danger. Maybe the duke of Albany had been just a minor villain, and the worst was yet to come.

+3

Written in 61 minutes.

The first messenger from Braegarie reached Jason near the Cameron stronghold as he and his men followed the victorious Cameron clan back to their keep. Jason had already been planning to take Francis and split off from the group to head home, not interested in the revelry ahead of them. The laird of the Camerons understood—he’d once had an infant son at home as well.

Jason had only just taken his leave of the Camerons when the rider from Braegarie galloped through the front gates—

“Jason—the duke—the regent, I mean—” The rider leaned over to catch his breath as Jason’s heart began to pound. At the doorway, the Cameron laird turned back, squinting.

“Did Albany come on the land?”

“Aye—two days ago, there was a royal procession on the borders,” the man told him. “I don’t know what happened—Johnny and your aunt sent me to fetch you. They’ll already be at the keep—”

“What’s this?” Lewis Cameron strode forward, narrowing his aways. “What trouble do you hve with the duke of Albany?”

“I need to go,” Jaosn said, with a shake of his head as he started towards his horse. “Francis, get the men—”

“Jason, if you’ve got problem with the regent, you’ll need more than just your own people,” Lewis barked, stopping Jason in his tracks. Jason turned back to face the older man. “We have little love for the court here in the Highlanders, especially since they spend more time kissing up to the French and English than they do on our people. Are we not allies, my boy?”

“We are.” Jason pressed his lips together, and told himself that Albany would already be at the keep by now. Five minutes to give the man an explanation and hope that Cameron would offer to support him were worth the time. “My wife and I married in Edinburgh at the regent’s command. On our way back to Braegarie, men hired by someone from at the court tried to kidnap Elizabeth and kill me. We think it was Albany for reasons I cannot divulge.”

Lewis considered him with a pinched expression. “And you think he’s come to your keep now with you gone fighting? To what, retrieve your wife?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I need to return home—”

“And if he’s taken her?” the man asked. “If she’s in Stirling, or worse, back in the court, you think to lay seige to a royal capital to get her back?”

“Of course,” Jason bit out. “I have go to—”

“Aye. Send word if you need help,” Lewis told him. “I may be able to send you some men.”

Which was less than Jason hoped for, but Elizabeth wasn’t a Highland woman with a family connection he could use. All he had were his own, and if the Cameron laird wasn’t giving him his full support, then few other clans would come if he called.

He didn’t care. He’d promised Elizabeth that Albany wouldn’t come near her, and he’d failed.

He turned back to Francis. “Let’s go.”

—

By the time they reached the borders of the Morgan land, Jason knew that his worst fears had come true. There were men waiting for him, including Gannon, the guard that was supposed to be with Elizabeth with Johnny running the keep in Jason’s absence.

“Where’s my wife?” Jason demanded, as his horse drew alongside Gannon and the others. “Did Albany—”

“He came to the gates and forced his way in. I don’t know what what he said to my lady,” Gannon said, swallowing hard, “but she left with him. Willingly. She left the babe with your aunt.”

Jason exhaled on a sharp breath. “She left Cameron—”

“Of course she did, you eejit,” Francis muttered. “Albany probably threatened to lay seige to the entire keep,” he told Jason.

“I know.” But leaving Cameron behind—he’d half thought to find them both gone. She’d left her son behind.

She didn’t think she was coming back and feared for her safety.

“Let’s go,” Jason said. “I need to know what he said to her.”

—

His aunt was only too eager to tell him exactly why Elizabeth had chosen to leave, though she didn’t know the content of the conversation.

“Did you make that girl promise that her secret wouldn’t hurt the clan?” Tracy bit out as she shoved the wailing infant into his stunned father’s arms. “Two days. He only stops crying long enough to drink the milk from the wet nurse—”

Jason blinked, then looked down at his squalling son. Cameron hadn’t been separated from his mother more than a handful of hours since his birth. Two days and a new woman feeding him—he swallowed hard. “What’s this about her secret?”

“She knew that bastard would bring his men to the keep and kill anyone inside who stopped him. We might have held them off until you returned,” Tracy said, with a lift of her chin, “but she wasn’t willing to take that risk.”

“She knows you’ll come after her,” Francis assured Jason. “She made the right choice—”

“Did she?” Jason demanded. “She could be anywhere. We don’t even know if he’s taking her straight to Edinburgh or anywhere else—” He took a deep breath. “She’s been gone three days.”

“Stirling is at least nine days away—”

“Only if Albany stops to rest,” Jason reminded them both and Tracy closed her mouth. “He may not. He has to know that I’ll come after her. He’ll want to get her behind the walls of a royal castle—”

“Then Stirling is our best choice. I’ll get the men ready and send riders to call up our allies—” Johnny said.

“They may not come,” Jason said, stopping Johnny in his tracks. The Irishman turned around, confused by that pronouncement.

“Why? They’re our allies—”

“The Cameron suggested that maybe he’d send some men,” Jason muttered. He kissed his son’s head then gave him back to Tracy. “And if Lewis Cameron isn’t behind us, the Frasiers won’t be either.”

Johnny scowled. “You Highlanders are irritating as hell. I’ll make sure they come. They kidnapped your wife, Jason! And threatened to kill your people if she didn’t cooperate! If they can do it to you, why wouldn’t Lewis Cameron be next or James Frasier?”

“Send the riders.” Jason grimaced. “I won’t count on them, and I’m not waiting. I need to get to her before they reach Stirling.”

—

Elizabeth’s hands were tied to a pommel of a horse and Albany himself rode with her. She finally had a glimpse at how slowly Jason had taken their journey over a year earlier—what had taken them more than a week took Albany and his men only four days.

By the time they reached gates of the castle in Stirling, Elizabeth was exhausted and nearly fell off the horse, her wrists torn and bleeding from the ropes.

The man who dragged her off the horse scowled as she tumbled down to the courtyard. He dragged her up to her feet.

“Take her to the rose quarters,” she could dimly hear the regent bark. She wanted to protest, wanted to dig in her heels—in all the days since she’d left Braegarie, she’d thought of a thousand ways she could have dealt with Albany other than just abandoning her son and home—

But then she’d remember the people of her adopted home and how much they meant to her. Better to sacrifice herself than make them pay for her secrets, for her curse.

The room the soldiers took her to had a bed. SHe was shoved into the room and then the door was locked behind her. Elizabeth stood in the middle of the room, staring blindly at the door for a long moment. It was the first time she’d been alone since they’d taken her.

She sank to the floor, tears spilling down her cheeks. She wanted Jason to come bring her home, but if he tried to get behind the walls of the castle—they might hurt him. Even kill him.

No, better for him, for all of the people she loved, if he just gave up.

Her dreams of another year with him, of another son, of watching her baby grow into a smiling child—

Fantasies. Not visions.

She thought she might have dozed—she didn’t stand up, just rested her head against the foot of the bed and closed her eyes, too tired to even move. Then an arm grabbed her, jerking to her feet—

“What—”

She tried to focus, blinked her weary eyes until she focused on Albany who had one arm tight around her wrist—in agony from the ropes—and his arm clutching that of a small child. The little boy was wailing, calling for his mother.

“I want you to tell me his future,” Albany demanded, thrusting the boy at Elizabeth and releasing her arm. “Now!”

Elizabeth caught him, her breathing harsh as she saw a flash of an older boy being crowned—

This was James V, the boy king of Scotland, who was scarcely four years old and had been ripped away fro his mother.

“Maman!” the boy blubbered. He clutched as Elizabeth’s middle and she instinctively cuddled him closer. Flashes of him, running and playing with his mother mixed with ones of him older, holding his own daughter—then laying in bed—dying as a young man. Her heart weapt for him—what a tragically short life he’d lead—

“Tell me what you see!” Albany ordered. He dragged the king away from her grasp and Elizabeth scowled.

“No! I won’t!”

“You’ll tell me—” He hissed—then shoved the king at one of the soldiers. “Take him out and stop that screaming—”

When the king was gone, Albany turned back to her. “Tell me what you saw and I’ll let you go—”

“I don’t even need to touch you to know you’re lying,” she hissed. “And I will never tell you what I saw.”

He raised his hand, stopping just short of backhanding. “You’ll tell me—”

“Or what? What else can you take from me?” she demanded. “You’ve taken my home, my husband—” Her voice broke. “My son! There’s nothing left but my life. You may as well take that now. I will never help you.”

Albany’s hand curled into a fist and he shook it at her. “You’ll tell me what you saw—does his mother get him back? Does her brother help her and take my power—”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, mutely. He growled. “Tell me, witch!”

“You may as well burn me at the stake now. You’ve wasted your time.”

And this time he did hit her. The force of his slap sent her flying across the room and she lay crumbled on the floor, waiting for more.

Instead, she heard the door slam behind her. Elizabeth closed her eyes and wished for it to be over.

—

Two days later, Jason and his men finally reached Stirling Castle. Johnny convinced him to leave the bulk of the men outside the gates—they were still waiting for more to join them, but Jason wasn’t sure that they’d get more than the small contigent of warriors that the Frasiers and Camerons had sent.

“You think I’ll just waltz in and take her back without needing a show of force?” Jason demanded skeptically.

“I’m saying that we don’t start with an attack, no matter how angry we all are.” Johnny put a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “And if you weren’t so angry, you’d see the sense in this.”

Jason glared at him, but then tugged on the reins of his horse, galloping the last few yards before the entrance to the castle.

“This isn’t going to end well,” Francis muttered. “All we can hope is that there are some men who are still loyal to the queen and hate that little rodent.”

—

Jason dismounted the horse. “Jason Morgan,” he told the guard at the entrnace. “My wife, Elizabeth, is a guest,” he bit out, “of the regent.” Johnny was right—if he just started pounding on the soldiers, he’d never get his wife back.

And he was desperate to see her, to know she was all right—it had been weeks—

“Aye.” The soldier squinted. “Lady Morgan isn’t to have any visitors. Order of the regent.”

Jason scowled. “I’m not a visitor. I’m her husband. We were married on the regent’s command—” He took a deep breath. “She’ll want news of our son.”

The soldier exchanged a glance with the other man on duty. “The, uh, lady, has been spending some time with the young king,” he said slowly. “He’s missing his mother.”

“My son misses his mother—”

“Let him pass,” the other man muttered. “Mayhap he’ll push Albany down the steps and we’ll be rid of him for good.”

“You’ll take the blame,” the first soldier returned, then stepped aside. “She’s in the rose room. Ask for Maggie inside. She’s loyal to the queen.”

—

Elizabeth sat at the window, rubbing at the scabs on her wrist. They itched fiercely as they healed from her robe burns. In the last two days, the regent had forced her to spend most of her time with the king, watching her like a hawk, hoping for something to slip. He’d also refused to feed her, hoping that her hunger would weak her resolve.

The door behind her opened but she didn’t look away from the view of the gardens. “I’ll not tell you a thing,” she muttered. “So don’t bother asking.”

“Elizabeth.”

She blinked, her lips quivering as she closed her eyes, taking in the timbre of her beloved husband’s voice. Oh, had she already grown delusional from hunger?

“Lass, if we’re to make our escape, you’ll need to look at me—”

Elizabeth launched herself off the window seat and threw herself into Jason’s arms, not even taking a moment to look at him. “You came!”

“Of course I did.” He buried his face in her neck, and tears stung her eyes. Oh, how safe she always felt in his arms. How special and beloved—

“I’m so sorry,” he told her. Jason drew back, framed her face in his hands, his eyes darkening at the cut on her cheek and the bruise beneath it. “I’ll kill him.”

“No, you can’t—” Elizabeth wrapped her hands around his wrist. “Jason—”

“We need to go. A few servants are still loyal to Margaret, but—”

It was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, but she shook her head and stepped back from him. She’d known he’d come for her.

But she’d always known what her answer should be.

“I’m sorry. I can’t go with you.”

+4

Written in 60 minutes. No time for spell check or reread.

Less than three weeks after Jason returned from fighting alongside the Fraziers, the Camerons called for the help of the clan Morgan, and Jason had to, once again, leave his family behind in the keep under the protection of Johnny and several of his best men.

“You were spoiled the first year,” Tracy said on the third day of Jason’s absence when she sat down by the heart in the great hall. She reached for her pile of mending. “The Camerons and Frasiers were quiet.”

“I know. Jason said Highlanders like to fight,” Elizabeth grumbled as she bent over the tapestry she’d worked on most nights since Jason had left. They’d found a sweet maid to watch over Cameron for a few hours each night, and Jason had made her promise she’d spend more time sleeping and on her needlework.

She’d rather be in her room, watching her son breathe, making sure that he was safe, but the maid, Emma, was a loyal Morgan who wouldn’t let anything happen to the laird’s son.

“He’s fine.”

Elizabeth flushed. “You must think me silly. Jason had to force me to leave the room.”

“I think you are a new mother who listened to me too closely.” Tracy shifted, uncomfortable. “I should not have told you about his mother’s losses. You’ve taken it too closely to heart.”

Elizabeth forced herself not ot smile. “Aunt, are you admitting to a mistake?”

“No,” Tracy said flatly. “I am never wrong.” She sniffed. “Just merely remarking that perhaps that particular story was not well-suited to your dramatic nature.”

“Ah, that sounds right.” Elizabeth frowned when she saw some activity near the entrance to the great hall. Johnny glanced up from the table where he was sitting with some of the men and strode across the hall.

Tracy shifted in her seat, narrowing her eyes. “What on earth—it’s after the supper hour—”

Her heart began to pound. She’d taken Jason’s return for granted, so sure that he would best anyone in battle. What if he was hurt—or worse—No, no, she’d touched him as he’d left, assured herself of his safety—but her visions couldn’t always be depended on—

“What’s going on?” Tracy demanded. “Johnny O’Brien—”

Johnny flashed the older woman an irritated glare and waved her off before returning his attention to the men at the door. He nodded, said something that neither of them could hear.

“That insolent—” Tracy turned to Elizabeth. “Can’t you see what the problem is?”

“I require touch,” Elizabeth said softly. “And Jason should be coming home to us. I never would have let him leave—”

“I’m sorry,” Johnny said as he joined them by the fire. “That was a scout from the border. There’s…there’s a royal procession camping just outside our lands.” He looked at Elizabeth who clenched her hands her lap, beneath the cloth of her tapestry. “The scout said it was Albany’s colors.”

“Why would the regent be this far north? He should be taking the princes to Edinburgh.” Tracy scowled and resumed her seat. “Is this about the business you told me about? The attack near Carnwell Pass?”

“Aye. Jason thinks the regent was behind it, but we can’t imagine why. He sent for Jason to marry me. Why would he do that—”

“Well,” Johnny said, pitching his voice a bit lower so that none of the men could overhear them. “You came there under your father’s protection. You couldn’t have stayed at court without his permission. After the wedding, he wanted you brought to the court. Mayhap he thought Jason would leave you at court.”

“He was irritated at being forced into marriage without being told—” Elizabeth’s lips pressed together. “His Grace was quite insistent I not tell Jason. I was so scared that he’d proclaim me as a witch or he’d leave me behind if I did.”

“And Albany thought Jason would be angry enough at your refusal to leave you behind. Under his protection. And control.” Johnny shrugged. “Not so many seers left, lass. ‘Tis passed through inheritance, and most never admit to the powers.”

“But that still doesn’t—he can’t think I’ll leave with him willingly,” Elizabeth said, twisting her hands. “And I’m Jason’s wife—”

“Jason isn’t here. Albany will know of the Cameron and Frasier’s recent battles. He’s been in Sterling for weeks. Word would have traveled.” Johnny shook his head. “Don’t worry, lass. I’ve sent a rider for Jason. He’ll return—”

“But the battle isn’t done. He can’t turn his back on an ally—”

“The Cameron will understand,” Tracy cut in. “Highlanders have little love for the court or any puffed up arse who thinks to walk onto their land and take what’s theirs.”

“You’ll stay in the keep,” Johnny told Elizabeth. “Stick close to Cameron, and I’ll take care of the rest. Albany can’t force his way in.”

“I keep being told what he can’t do, but it doesn’t seem to have stopped him yet.” Elizabeth got to her feet. “Good night, Aunt. Johnny.”

Tracy watched her niece by marriage climb the steps before turning to Johnny with a scowl. “Jason is two days away, even by the fastest messenger. It’ll be nearly a week before he can be here. By then, that damned duke will have stormed the keep and forced her to go—”

“Jason left me to protect his family,” Johnny said darkly. “I’ll not let her go without a fight.”

“See that you don’t.”

—

By mid-morning the next day, all of the keep knew something was wrong. The scouts reported at the royal procession was drawing closer, and Elizabeth knew what Tracy and Johnny weren’t telling her — Jason wouldn’t be able to return home in time.

“Couldn’t you smuggle me out through one of the passages?” she asked Johnny when the first-in-command came to report the regent and his men were maybe two hours away. “You could tell him I went to visit my father—”

“And left your newborn son behind?” Johnny said. He shook his head. “He would just go to our allies—”

“Is that not what they’re for?” Tracy snapped. Johnny glared at her. “They can hide her at the Camerons, and then move her to the Frasiers. Eventually Jason will return—”

“Jason can call on the Camerons and Frasiers to hide his wife. I’m the bloody Irishman that barely knows Gaelic,” Johnny retorted. “You’d have me bring the royal court to their doorway without Jason’s knowledge?”

“Johnny—”

They turned to Gannon at the doorway. The younger warrior swallowed hard. “The regent and a small contingent—they’re traveling ahead of the procession. They’ll be here in less than an hour.”

Johnny’s scowl deepened, and he turned back to Elizabeth. “You stay in this room with the babe. Both of you,” he told Tracy who narrowed her eyes.

“Boy—”

Johnny didn’t stay to hear what Tracy would say next.

Elizabeth turned to look at her son. Her beloved, precious miracle. She traced a finger down his face. “There’s a woman in the village,” she said to Tracy. “She’ll be able to take over for me with the feeding. I made sure someone was able.”

“What fool thing—”

“He waited until he knew Jason wasn’t here. Until he knew the majority of Jason’s men were days away.” Elizabeth picked Cameron up and took him over to the hearth so she could sit with her son one more time and feed him. “He’ll lay seige to the keep.”

“Let him—”

“I made a promise to Jason that my secret would never bring harm to the clan.” Elizabeth stared down at Cameron. “I could never repay his kindness in making me a wife and mother by bringing destruction to the place he loves.” She looked at Tracy. “We’ll be under attack in hours. Albany has come ahead of the others to see if you’ll turn me over. I can save you all.”

“But—”

Maybe her vision had been just a nightmare. Maybe this babe would be all she had. There wouldn’t be another son, another year of this life—

“Would you sacrifice the clan to save yourself?” Elizabeth asked softly. She met Tracy’s eyes. “No. You would do the same, Aunt.”

“Jason will come after you,” Tracy told her, firmly.

“Aye, likely he will. And we’ll see what happens. But we don’t know what Albany wants of me or where he’ll bring me.” Her voice faltered. “Maybe I’ll be back and this will be just a story we tell the children one day.”

“Elizabeth—”

“You’ll look after my son, won’t you? And Jason. I know I don’t have to ask because you’re a Morgan and that’s what you do, but—” She cleared her throat. “I still need to ask. You had the raising of Jason, didn’t you?”

“That was his father, and he was a boy of ten by the time his mother passed—” Uncomfortable, Tracy began to pace the room. “But aye, I finished the job.”

“So I know you’ll look after my family. I love them. I should have—I should have told Jason that I loved him,” she admitted. “I was afraid. He never asked for any of this, and I didn’t want him to feel guilty for not feeling the same.”

“If you think my nephew isn’t stupid over you,” Tracy declared, “then I don’t see how you can call yourself a seer.”

Elizabeth laughed, but it was more of a choked sob. “I could never see for myself. I wish I could know that was true.”

“Then I’ll make sure he tells you when he comes to fetch you.”

Johnny hadn’t been able to keep the regent from coming into the keep. There had been a small scufffle at the front gates, but the Duke of Albany had easily gained entrance and within the hour, he was standing in the doorway of Elizabeth’s bedroom.

“Well, Lady Morgan, we meet again.” He flicked his eyes to Tracy. “Leave us.”

“No—”

“Tracy.” Elizabeth kissed her son then slowly set him in his aunt’s arms. “Take Cameron somewhere safe and remember what I said.”

Tracy grimaced, then looked at Albany. “When my nephew hears of this, I hope he puts your head on a pike.” She stalked out the door.

Albany watched her leave. “Amazing to think she never married,” he muttered, then turned his attention back to Elizabeth. “You know why I’m here.”

“To make me leave. I just don’t understand why.” Elizabeth laced her fingers together to keep them shaking. “You were the one who brought Jason to me. You arranged our marriage. Why do you not leave us to live our lives?”

“He was supposed to be so angry at my command and at your refusal to tell him the truth that he’d leave you in a pique of anger.” Albany wrinkled his nose. “These Highlanders never do anything the way I want them to. I left you alone for as long as I could, didn’t I? I even let you have time to have a son—”

“You gave me a whole hear,” Elizabeth said. “How kind of you,” she retorted.

“You could bring the brat with you if you like—”

“Morgans belong here.” Elizabeth lifted her chin. “What if I refuse to leave? Will you destroy the keep?”

“If you refuse to leave with me now,” Albany said, his voice low and hard, “not only will I raze this holding to the ground, but I will make sure that all who live here know you to be a witch.”

Elizabeth’s heart began to beat a bit faster. “They practice the Old Ways,” she said softly.

“Do they? Every single one of them?” Albany raised a brow. “You are willing to take that risk? To destroy the land your husband holds so dear? I can do more than destroy this ragged keep, my lady. Do you want to ask the queen what I’m capable of?”

“No.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “No. I just wanted to know how evil you truly were. How did you know what I was capable of? Because you knew before I came to court.”

“I sent for you, my dear.” Albany reached for her arm and started to drag her towards the door. “Your mother was a dear, distant cousin, and I knew of her curse. I knew it traveled in the blood, and once I learned your father had hidden his youngest daughter away—well, it wasn’t that difficult. Satisfied?”

“My husband will come for me.”

“I hope, for your sake, that’s not true. Because it would be a shame for you to be the reason his clan was disbanded and he was executed for treason,” Albany hissed in her ear as he tugged her down the stairs. “Be grateful for the year I’ve let you have. You belong to me now. And he’ll replace you before the first snow falls.”

+4

Written in 62 minutes. No time for spellcheck.

Elizabeth lifted her son from his cradle and held him against her shoulder, gently rocking the infant as she swayed back and forth, hoping to settle his restless cries.

She’d barely been able sleep over the past three weeks—not just because Cameron rarely slept more a few hours at a time, but her own worry. Tracy had told her of the three children Jason’s mother had lost in infacy—a son and daughter before Jason’s birth and then one more son between Jason and his sister, Emily.

Three babes born that hadn’t seen their first birthday. And two of them, Tracy had said with real sorrow, had died within weeks. Some babes weren’t strong enough to survive. Since that discussion, Elizabeth had been afraid to take her eyes off her son. What if she missed his last breath? What if she missed the chance to help him?

“Father McKinnon has just finished his week at the Camerons.”

Elizabeth turned at the sound of her husband’s aunt and sighed in relief. “Then he’ll be here this Sunday. I want Cameron baptized.” The Camerons were the largest clan in this part of Scotland, and the Morgans had a marriage alliance with them through Jason’s mother. It was part of the reason Elizabeth had chosen the name for their son. Or at least, she thought it was the reason. It had been his name in her vision after all.

“Aye. ‘Tis a privilege to have a priest even once a month,” Tracy said as she strode across the room and reached for Cameron, frowning at Elizabeth. “You did not sleep again ast night?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth sighed. “No, not since Jason left for the Frasers.” She bit at her thumb and turned towards the windows. She’d grown used to Jason and his best warriors leaving to fight with allies against rival clans, but she always worried when he was gone.

“You need to stop fretting over Jason,” Tracy said as she bounced Cameron lightly and the baby coeed at her. “Highland men like fighting more than they like the comforts of home. They consider it a sin to die in their beds as old men.”

“I may have to live with it, but it does not meet I should ever accept it. Someone has to help Cameron grow into a strong Highland warrior.” Elizabeth smoothed her hand over the soft, downy fuzz of her son’s head, still marveling at his existence. She’d been so convinced she’d never have a family and now she had this perfect child, a wonderful husband, and—she eyed Tracy—a beloved curmudgeon. “I know it’s been a year, but I confess I still can’t get used to not having a priest in permanent residence.”

“Ah, well, being from the Lowlands, you’re practically English, and they’ve forgotten the Old Ways long ago,” Tracy said. She set Cameron back in Elizabeth’s arms. “He’s looking hungry.”

Her favorite part of the day. Elizabeth sat down in the chair by the fire and untucked her dress so that Cameron could eat. “No, my father didn’t set much store in the Old Ways,” she admitted. “He was very…dedicated to the Church.”

Tracy snorted as she took the seat across from Elizabeth. “Men often are. That’s how they tell themselves they have the power. God speaks to them, they say. And women are last in God’s life. The church fears the Old Ways.” She folded her arms. “You won’t see that attitude at Braegarie as long as a Morgan breathes. We still have the proper respect for the gifts that God has bestowed.”

“I…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I haven’t seen much evidence of it. Beyond the marriages that aren’t blessed by a priest until Father MacKinnon arrives.”

“You likely don’t know what to look for. Barbara is a practitioner. Not much to her abilities—a gift for healing. For sensing the right treatments, for having a deft hand at the potions,” Tracy explained. “No, the ways are dying out. We don’t have many seers left. Not here in east. Emily writes that they still have some stalwarts in the Isles.”

“Seers.” Elizabeth’s heart began to beat a bit faster. “You mean people who can see the future.”

“Aye. It was never a common gift,” Tracy admitted. “The Camerons have a seer, but they keep it quiet. Some fools seem to think that it’s evidence of a witchcraft.” She snorted. “Ever since the Stewarts came to power and made an alliance with the French—” she sneered the word. “They’ve forgotten who they are.”

“Because the French king is very dedicated to the Pope,” Elizabeth said slowly. “I’ve heard the regent speak of his fondness for Paris. He spent time there before the king died and he was called home.”

“Aye, John Stewart is barely a Scot.” Tracy narrowed her eyes. “Why the interest in the Old Ways?”

“I—” Elizabeth’s words died in her throat. Tracy approved of her—but just barely. She’d survived a Highland winter and had birthed a son for Tracy’s beloved nephew. But that did not mean Jason’s aunt cared for her.

Still. “It’s very different from how I was raised. My father was very harsh with any women he believed to be witches,” Elizabeth said slowly. “He…had several burned at the stake.”

“Aye. The witchcraft trials have come to Sterling. Jason told me a woman burned at Beltane several springs ago—and the run you had on your way from Edinburgh. The witch finder—as if a man could spot an actual witch—” Tracy got to her feet. “I took a risk telling you about Barbara—”

“I would never—” Elizabeth shook her head. “Aunt, I promise. I would never—I—” She took a deep breath. “I ask because I—I think I am one of those—the seers,” she clarified. “I—I get visions. Of the future.”

Tracy pursed her lips, then settled back down in the chair. “Tell me.”

—

Jason returned from his battles alongside the Frasers only a day before Father MacKinnon was due to baptize their son and brought news with him.

“Albany is in Sterling,” Jason told Johnny who had been left behind to guard the keep and Jason’s family. He started up the stairs, expecting his first to follow him. He was eager to see his wife and son. He disliked being away from them and knew Elizabeth had trouble sleeping when he wasn’t with her.

“Why? I thought he’d go back to France and leave the queen to her business,” Johnny muttered. “Even if her business is the Angus.”

“Aye, well, she lost the right to her children with that marriage,” Jason reminded him. “And Albany had wait to for the council to give him the right—he’s in Sterling because that’s where Margaret is.”

He pushed open the door and grinned at the sight of Elizabeth at the heart, cradling their son in her arms. Then frowned, realized she was feeding Cameron and—he turned to face Johnny. “You’ll stay out here.”

“I’ve seen a woman feed—” Johnny protested, but Jason closed the bedroom door and greeted his aunt who stood to greet him.

“Johnny said things were well?” he asked her, then looked at Elizabeth for confirmation.

“Aye, the holding is as you left it,” Tracy said. She arched a brow. “Your wife has slept not a wink. You should see to that.” She paused and met his eyes. “And your mother would be proud of you.”

Frowning as his aunt left the room, Jason turned a bewildered expression to Elizabeth who had finished feeding Cameron and was getting to her feet. “What—”

“Tracy and I were discussing the Old Ways,” Elizabeth said. “And so…I told her.”

“You…” Jason was distracted when she put their son in his arms. Even after three weeks, it still felt like the first time. Cameron had grown since that first night—his face was starting to fill out and he opened his eyes more—but he was still no heavier than the claymore Jason wielded in battle.

In fact, on this recent journey, Jason had convinced himself that the child weighed less than his weapon. He understood his wife’s fears that something this fragile could not be strong enough to survive in this world.

“I wondered—when I told you what I could do—why it did not seem to concern you,” Elizabeth said. “You were surprised, but you didn’t…judge me. I was sure that you wouldn’t want to keep me.”

Jason scowled. “‘Tis your father who had you thinking things. Low Landers are scared everything.”

“Aye, that’s what Tracy said. She said we’ll still need to keep it to ourselves. The church is growing stronger. That’s very clear from what we saw in Sterling last spring.” Elizabeth sighed. “But it does feel better not having to keep the secret from you and Tracy. Or Johnny and Francis. Keeping it from you—I hated it.”

“It was only for a few months.” Jason shrugged it off, and then sat down—slowly, not wanting to jar his son who had dozed off in his arms. “And you were scared. I knew I had to make you feel safe, and I did.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and he grinned at her. He untucked one hand from holding Cameron and reached for her, tugging her onto his knee. “We have a strong son,” he told her. “And I can see the circles under your eyes. We’ll get a maid in to see to Cameron at night so you can sleep—”

“Jason—”

“I worry for him, too,” he told her. “I remember the babe my parents lost before Emily was born. And how my mother grieved each loss.” He paused. “How my father grieved the loss of my mother when Emily was born. You need to keep your strength. You’re important to me, too.”

“I try not to feel scared,” Elizabeth murmured, leaning against Jason’s shoulder, tucking her head under his chin as they both looked at the miracle he held in his other arm. “I know my vision tells me he survives. That there’s another child in a year or two. But ’tis hard to remember that in the middle of the night,” she admitted.

And neither of them mentioned how that vision had begun by the disappearance of Jason and their sons. She had never been sure if it had been a metaphor or if there was something else to worry over.

“Albany is in Sterling,” he told Elizabeth. “He’s come to take the boys from Margaret.”

“The—” Elizabeth leaned up, frowing him. “James and Alexander? They’re just babes. Alexander is scarely weaned—and you told me Margaret was to have the Angus’s child. Why would he take children from their mother now?”

“Because James is the king,” Jason reminded her gently. “And Albany is the regent. He has the power to do so—”

“It’s barbaric,” Elizabeth muttered, “that he should have such power over her children. She brought those boys into the world. She should have the raising of them. Even if she did have the bad judgement to marry Archibald Douglas.” She narrowed her eyes. “What man do you think will take my son from me? I’ll see them dead first—”

“Things aren’t so strict in the Highlands,” Jason told her. “But aye, he needs a male legal guardian. A boy without one—the king could take control of him and the holding,” he admitted. “So I had to put some paperwork together. Johnny has the legal custody but he knows that Cameron stays with you.”

“And if he tried to take him from me—or Tracy—no one would ever find the body,” Elizabeth muttered. “This is the problem of letting men in charge of the world. Women do all the work and you lot just take.” She took a deep breath. “You’re telling me about Albany being in Sterling because this is the closest he’s been since we were in Edinburgh.”

“Aye. And if he was behind the kidnapping attempt last year,” Jason said, “I just think it’s best if we keep an eye on him. He might not care about of that. He’ll finish seiging Margaret, and take the boys back to Edinburgh where he has more loyal followers in the court.”

“He can’t make me leave, can he?” Elizabeth asked. “I’m your wife. Your legal property.”

“Which is the argument I’ll be making if he tries,” Jason told her. “Whatever plans he might have had for you, they were done the moment he chose me to marry you.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“I know.” She edged back slightly with narrowed eyes. “But you’re just to make that argument to him, not anyone else.”

“I’m not fool enough to try it on you.” He kissed her again and she smiled against his lips. “We both know who holds the power here.” Cameron began to cry, and they both looked at the infant. Because of course, their lives revolved around their son now—he was the one in charhe.

—

“I take it from the look on your face you’re unhappy with the messenger,” Johnny said as he closed the solar door behind the man who had brought the scroll Jason held in his hands. “He said he’ll wait in the hall for the answer—”

“The answer is no,” Jason said, his tone clipped. “You can word it however you like, but I’ll not be bringing my wife anywhere near Sterling Castle or the Duke of Albany. The regent can go to hell.”

Johnny blinked. “He wants you to bring Elizabeth—she’s barely out of childbed—”

“Aye, well, Albany’s shown just how much care he has for a woman and her children, hasn’t he?” Jason muttered.

“I’ll give the message to the regent’s man, but this will upset Elizabeth. She’s only begun sleeping again at night.”

Jason scrubbed a hand over his face, then nodded. “I know. I won’t be telling her.”

“Jason—”

“I promised I’d keep her safe. She trusts me to do that. She doesn’t need all the details.”

+5