Lachlann's Legacy (The Order of the Scottish Thistle): Historical Romance by Ashley York ➱ Release Tour with Giveaway
EXCERPT 1:
The damp
cold seeped into the chieftain’s tired bones. He tugged the wolfskin mantle
tighter around his length as he paced the uneven terrain. At two score and
eight, he was getting too old for traipsing along the open glen, sleeping on
the stone-riddled ground each night. He longed for the peace of his own bed,
his wife’s warmth beside him.
A young
child being dragged toward him yanked Colbán, chieftain of Clan MacDonell, out
of his woolgathering. He looked to be the right age, about four winters.
Although the boy was filthy with smoke and ash from the burning huts, Colbán
knew in his gut it was the right child. He recognized the dark hair of his
father, just sprouting after a close shearing, and the bright green eyes of his
lovely mother.
God rest
her soul.
EXCERPT 2:
Lachlann stopped reading to watch her. Her eyes remained
bright and her voice low, bringing him in closer as the story caught his
imagination.
“This man writes that he was once called Oengus, a hired
killer. Pillaging and raping for whoever would pay him the most: Celt, Pict,
Anglo-Saxon. And all the spoils were his to take or use as he chose. He recalls
one particularly savage battle; his arm was all but severed from his body. He
was left for dead, discarded like he never mattered, while his life’s blood
seeped into the hard, cold ground. The blowing leaves covered him as they fell,
because he hadn’t the strength to clear them away. Hours and days went by while
he waited for his death. That is when Columba found him.
“Columba gave him cool, refreshing water and spoke
reassuring words of God’s love and mercy. Oengus’s body raged with fever. In his
brokenness, he called Columba a liar, crying out that God could never forgive
him for the atrocities he’d inflicted on the innocent. But Columba continued to
care for Oengus’s many wounds, insisting God would forgive a repentant heart.
“When the fever finally broke, Oengus awoke in the priory
surrounded by monks praying over him. It was several weeks before he fully
recovered, but he finally felt well enough to ask for Columba. The man had
shown him great love and care, and Oengus wished to be baptized by the man. The
monks told him Columba had been dead for hundreds of years.”
EXCERPT 3:
From within the chapel, one of the nuns came alongside the
priest. She also watched Lachlann, but with an anxious expression. That was
enough to convince him to do the “proper thing,” leastwise as far as the good
priest was concerned.
With quite a bit of reluctance, Lachlann retraced the path
back to the chapel. Guilt made his steps heavier than they needed to be, and
the priest’s dark expression seemed to confirm his first impression.
“Good day to ye, Lachlann,” the nun spoke first. “And how
are ye this fine day?”
Surprised by her cheery tone, he accepted the small hand she
extended, bowing slightly. “Hearty and healthy, and how are ye, sister?”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Do ye not remember me?”
“This is Sister Elizabeth from the priory.” Father Michael
looked down his nose at the two of them. “She assures me ye’ve met. That ye’ve
even been there and helped them out on occasion.”
The priest’s tone carried so much doubt that Lachlann almost
laughed at the man’s bad opinion of him, but quickly swallowed the urge.
“Of course. Sister Elizabeth.”
A small woman, slightly younger than himself, and always a
gracious hostess. They had enjoyed her company.
“Ye’ve only just missed Niall and Aldred,” he said.
He, Niall, and Aldred had gone to the priory often over the
years to help with upkeep—cropping and herding, filling in the gaps along the
roof, digging a new well. Mayhap as a way of penance for some of their
foolishness, but they hadn’t been there recently.
Her lips transformed into a genuine smile. “Oh. Please do
tell Aldred I said hello. As always, I’ve kept him in my prayers.”
“I can bring ye to him,” Lachlan said with more enthusiasm
than he intended, even turning toward the general direction of the stables as
he spoke. Idly chatting with the priest, who always found him lacking, was not
how he wanted to spend his day.
“Many thanks, but ’tis ye I wish to speak with.”
Her piercing gaze held his, and his stomach dropped at the
uncharacteristic insistence. Was he to be reprimanded by her as well? No doubt
she’d been one of the nuns lined against the wall, probably listening to the
Father’s admonishment, but politely pretending not to hear it.
“I am returning to Restenneth shortly, but I had hoped to
enlist yer help before I do,” she said. “The three of ye.”
“As always, we would be happy to help in any way we can,
though I admit Niall’s uncle keeps us quite busy in battle as of late.”
So much so that when they weren’t living off the land,
sleeping wet and cold on the ground, they weren’t sure what to do with
themselves.
“I was hoping ye’d say that.”
She seemed ready to burst with excitement and his heart
quickened.
“Do ye have such exciting labor?” He asked half-jokingly.
“Ah, no.” Sister Elizabeth laughed. “But we did find
something that will interest ye.
Completely unexpected. The sisters and I have a journey we need the
three of ye to make on our behalf.”
“A journey.” The idea immediately intrigued Lachlann. This
might be the very thing they needed to escape Garnait’s grasping clutches and
ceaseless wars. And as long as he could convince his friends to go… Lachlann
smiled. He had no doubt that he could do just that. “Tell me more.”
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