Page 25 of Connal

Drowsy now, Valerie pillowed her head on the arm she’d propped on the wall, and wondered not for the first time if she’d simply gone crazy.

In her mind’s eye she saw the etching of the man covered in hair again, but this time he was a glowing blue and green figure made of waves of sea water standing beside her in the labyrinth. Day had changed to night, and she couldn’t see the stones or the castle anymore. That was when she realized the labyrinth had vanished, too, and she was simply sitting on top of the ocean.

It’s only a dream.

Very slowly a handsome face formed in the water-shaped man, one that reminded her of Shaw. Instead of sitting down beside her his body shape flowed from a standing position to a seated one. No fear came over her as he reached out to touch one of the curls by her cheek, and a trickle of water slid down her face.

“You’re Prince Mar, aren’t you?” she murmured, fascinated.

Instead of replying he lifted his arm and pointed at the ocean.

When Valerie looked out she saw bright lights streaming down from the sky. As they broke through the clouds they actually slowed, and then hovered before plunging into the sea. Huge fountains of displaced water and steam shot up from the different points of impact, and a strange silvery-green glow spread out beneath the surface. Before it disappeared she made out darker silhouettes shaped like the weird fish.

The water beneath her began to rock slightly, and turned from wet and cold to hard and warm.

Valerie couldn’t see the prince or anything now, but the darkness gradually lightened from black to gray, and she knew she was being carried. She must have fallen asleep sitting in the labyrinth, and Fletcher or Shaw had found her. The strong arms cradling her gave her a sense of being safe, and she sighed and nestled closer to the muscular wall under her cheek. As soon as she woke up she would apologize to whoever it was, and go back to her chamber and take a real nap.

The scent of moss and leaves teased her nose, and the brightness on the other side of her eyelids dimmed.

“Sorry.” She yawned and opened her eyes to see she was sitting under a huge willow tree with Connal, who was holding her on his lap. She couldn’t see the labyrinth or the castle, and she didn’t recognize the forest around them. “Where are we?”

“’Tis a quiet spot.” He looked down at her. “Sleep.”

With his big, bulgy thighs pressing against her bottom? Like that would happen.

“I’m wide awake now.” When she tried to move his arms tightened around her. “Don’t you have to get back to the castle, and do whatever it is lairds do all day?”

“Shaw and Nyall and Fletcher do the work of the laird. I remain in my bed chamber most days and nights. ’Tis easier than facing them and pretending I’m hale and well and ’tis naught amiss with me.” His hand moved idly up and down her arm. “I’m no’ like you, my lady. I’m a coward.”

“You lost your wife. You’re allowed to grieve a little.” She wondered just how brave he thought she was. “After my husband killed himself, I couldn’t sleep. I’d lay there for hours, but instead of sleeping I sat in a front row seat to relive all my memories of him. It’s horrible.”

Connal closed his eyes. “Aye.”

Valerie should have been able to read his mind, and find out his intentions, but she realized that despite being on his lap she couldn’t access his thoughts. After puzzling over it for a few minutes she hit on what was different: his trousers and gloves were made of thin leather. That and the wool tunic and tartan he wore prevented any skin-to-skin contact. Carefully she reached up to touch his cheek, only to have her wrist grabbed halfway there.

The laird opened one eye. “’Tisnae polite to steal the thoughts of others without their leave, my lady.”

“I wouldn’t steal them. I thought I’d just take a peek.” She lowered her hand back into her lap. “But you’re right. Sorry.”

“I’m pondering if I shall walk you back to the stronghold, or take you round the island,” Connal said. “’Tis much beauty here you’ve yet to behold. Ken you how to ride?”

“On horseback?” When he nodded she made a face. “I never learned. Probably because horses are very big animals, and scare me.”

“Dinnae fret.” His mouth curved. “You’re a strong walker?”

“As a teacher I spend most of the day on my feet. I also hike a couple days a week.” She patted her thigh. “Even Dale couldn’t…keep up with me.” It seemed wrong to mention her husband so casually, and yet she didn’t experience a single pang of guilt.

“Nor Joana with me.” Connal stood, helping her to her feet at the same time. “Come, then. The Stone forest, ’tisnae far from the stronghold.”

“You have a forest made of stone?” Valerie couldn’t help asking as she followed him along a path different from the one that led to the castle.

“Oak trees that turned from wood to stone,” he told her. “Just after my sire died our woodsmen discovered the place. We’ve never reckoned what caused such change, but ’tis stood for better than a thousand years.”

Once they emerged from the forest the land began to gradually slope upwards. Wide, sweeping glens of beautifully tall, lush grasses hemmed both sides of the trail, and here and there Valerie spotted more small ponds lined with sparkling stones.

“Are those fairy pools, too?” she asked the laird, who nodded. “Your father must have really liked bathing.”

“’Tis hundreds scattered over the island. The prince couldnae abide staying long away from water,” Connal told her. “’Twas the source of his power, and the only ease the mortal realm provided him. When we lived on the mainland he’d swim the loch every day, and bid his vassals keep a tub filled in his chamber all night, so he might bathe whenever he wished. My brothers and I, we share his love of water, but no’ the same need.”