Clova cocked her head. “Ah,” she said. “The Lion has arrived. Come closer, lad.”
Cam did, stepping next to her chair. The woman reached out and collected one of his big, callused hands, holding it up to look at it in the weak morning light. Cam glanced at Ewan, who simply lifted his shoulders curiously. When the old woman smelled his fingernails, Cam very nearly pulled his hand away, but he didn’t want to be disrespectful.
Finally, she dropped his hand.
“I smell smoke on ye,” she said. “Ye work with fire.”
Cam nodded. “I was a smithy, once.”
“I smell Isadora on ye.”
Cam had to make a conscious effort to keep from reacting. “I am not sure how that is possible,” he said. “I’ve not seen her since the night we arrived.”
He was very careful in his reply, not exactly lying, but not exactly telling the truth. He didn’t want to tip off Ewan and Ossian, but the old lady’s words had him off balance. As she eyed him with her one milky orb, Ewan spoke up.
“Dunna insult him, Aunty,” he said. “I saw him tear apart a man twice his size, so we dunna want tae anger him.”
Clova took a long drag of the smoke from her weeds, exhaling slowly. Then, she pointed to a fairly large rock that was right next to her chair.
“Sit,” she commanded.
Cam did as he was told, sitting down and facing the woman who said she could smell Isadora on him.
“I’m told ye’re from Netherton,” she said.
“I am.”
“Ye lost much.”
“Aye.”
She continued to stare at him, inspecting every inch of him. Cam was beginning to feel uncomfortable because he didn’t like being stared at like that. She was harmless enough, unless she started talking about smelling Isadora on him again. Finally, she looked away.
“Netherton always seemed tae breed fine, strong men and I see that in ye.”
“Ye have my thanks.”
The old woman looked at Ewan and Ossian. “Go away from me,” she said. “I want tae speak tae The Lion alone.”
Ewan gave Cam an expression of sympathy as he turned away, following Ossian back down the trail. Clova waited until the pair was out of earshot before speaking again.
“Ye look like him,” she said softly.
Cam looked at her curiously. “Who?”
The old woman smelled her weeds again before replying. “Him,” she said. “I never married, ye see. I had a love who lived in Netherton and my da forbid me tae see him or even love him. When we were separated, I knew I could never love again. It was so long ago, but I remember his face as if ’twas yesterday. Shall I tell ye his name?”
Cam had no idea why she was speaking on a lost love, but he nodded his head, anyway. “If ye want.”
“Nikolaus. Do ye know the name?”
That brought a strong reaction from Cam. “Nik…?” he sputtered in disbelief. “But… but that’s my grandfather’s name.”
Clova sat back, a smile playing on her lips. “When I saw ye the night ye arrived, ye looked so much like him that I knew ye must be a relation,” she said. “I couldna say anything, of course, but I’m sure ye wondered why I was staring at ye. ’Tis why I asked tae see ye this morning.”
Cam was genuinely shocked. In fact, one his last conversations with his grandfather came back to him in a rush and he remembered Nikolaus speaking of a Keith lass he was once fond of, but the hatred of the clans kept them apart.
He found himself staring at his grandfather’s lost love.
