Highland Shifter (MacCoinnich Time Travels #4)(35)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“Can’t she turn it off?”

Myra shifted a long strand of her coal-black hair over her shoulder. “Nay.”

“What about creating a buffer? Something to quiet the empathy she feels for others?”

“Like placing your head under a pillow to dull the noise?”

“Yeah. You guys have told me some fanciful stories about how you’ve read other peoples’ minds or kept the noise inside a room so no one would learn the truth about you. There has to be something we can do.”

Lora returned to the room with Tara and Lizzy. Most of the kids were already asleep in the two rooms set aside for them, boys in one, girls in the other. The women would take turns watching over the children since the men were often unavailable. Only when the kids were down for the night did the news of the day spill for Helen to hear.

“Selma, Briac, come here children,” Lora told the oldest.

Once the teenage kids were at her side, she graced them with a smile. “I need you to watch over the others so I might have a word in private with your aunts.”

Briac, who clearly felt he was too old to be cast aside as a child puffed his chest out. Tara stopped her son before he said a word. “Your father asks that you keep your sword at your side in your task, son.”

Briac’s mouth quickly shut and he stood taller. He reached a hand out to his sword perched against the wall by the fireplace. The broadsword flew into his palm safely.

Helen swallowed. She’s seen Myra open a door with her mind when her hands were full, but she’d never witnessed one of the kids do something so powerful. Ya kinda had to have a little respect for a teen with a sword, an attitude, and the ability to knock you on your ass with a thought.

“They’ll be safe with me.” He sauntered out the door and to the boys’ room.

“What about me?” Selma asked Lizzy.

Lizzy reached for her daughter and smiled. “Myra and I’ll be in there soon. We don’t expect trouble tonight.”

The girl nodded and kissed her mother before following Briac from the room.

Alone, Helen asked. “So, what was that all about?”

“Briac needs to know he’s helping or he’ll seek trouble. Cian was exactly that way as a teen. Best he stays with the others. His training isn’t complete to stand on the field with the men.”

“He’s just a kid.”

“At sixteen, men are often placed in battle here.”

“That’s too young.”

“Mayhap,” Lora said.

“What news do you bring?”

The five of them moved closer to the fire and made themselves comfortable. “We’ve learned one of the clan names who fight against us.”

Helen wouldn’t know any clan names, so the answer wasn’t one she had any anxiety in hearing, but the other women in the room jumped at the news. “Who?”

“McNeil.”

Tara and Lizzy shrugged their shoulders. Myra pitched her brows together in thought. “Do I know that name?”

“I hardly know it,” Lora said. “Been many years since their name was whispered here. Long before our search for Grainna.”

That name Helen knew. All of the MacCoinnichs spoke of the evil Druid witch who sought to destroy every last MacCoinnich. She lost, thankfully, but not without cost.

“Why do they attack?”

“We do not know. To fortify this region with their own men? ’Tis hard to say.”

“So what, whoever has the biggest knife wins the house?” Helen tried to grasp why men fought in this time.

“In years past this happened more often. Seems with the shift in power in both Scotland and England this land and others that surround us have become worth the risk to take over.”

Helen wished more than ever that she’d paid attention to her European history. Staying in school was hardly possible where she grew up. She dropped out and later earned her GED as an adult. Even took a few semesters at a community college. European art she knew something about. If a piece was forged during a particularly turbulent time the piece would be more valuable, but outside of those dates, she was clueless of the political climate.

Lizzy shook her head. “I don’t get it. There isn’t any talk about a war in this region on the books.”

“The books, what books?”

“When we sent Myra forward in time I asked her to bring a few things back with her. History books were on the list.” Tara leaned forward as she spoke. “Not that we planned on changing history, but we thought it would help to keep the stones safe if we kept them out of war zones.”

“Not to mention a little self preservation,” Lizzy added.

“We’d not abandon MacCoinnich Keep even if we came under attack,” said Lora.

“But we wouldn’t risk a total wipeout of the family by lying in wait for a bomb, either.” Lizzy didn’t believe in going down with a sinking ship. There was comfort in knowing someone in the house was willing to retreat if the fight was useless. Helen had survived a rather lousy childhood and didn’t desire a bloody death in the sixteenth century.

“We’ve been fighting off small bands of men for nearly a year. There are several known mercenaries we’ve brought down, which proves whoever is behind the attack doesn’t have a strong loyal following.”

“Then how are they organizing such a grand scale attack? Seems to me all those beefy guys downstairs could easily overpower small search parties.” Helen tried to imagine a small rebel attack on an army. There had to be something she was missing. “How do the McNeil’s inspire this fight?”

“That is the question. One I hope Lizzy might be able to find an answer to in her books.”

Helen turned to Lizzy. “I take it you’re the resident historian?”

“Because I loved school so much.” She rolled her eyes.

Helen laughed.

“I’ll look up the name, see what I can find. It would help to know exactly where the family is now.”

“I’ll show you on your maps when we retire.”

“Simon should be back by tomorrow with more news.”

Helen had heard he was off again, but did her best to curb her worry for his safety. “Tomorrow? I thought he was back every night.”

“He needed to go further to see how far away the enemy is staged. We’ve already spread our men beyond the eastern flank of the enemy.” Lora explained Ian’s strategy.

“He’ll be back.” Lizzy covered Helen’s hand with hers.