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“So what are you going to do?”
“Me?” She looked up with wide eyes and then narrowed her eyes as she thought of Bedivere and became angry. “I’m no’ goin’ to speak to him ever again.”
“Mayhap, not communicating is what got you into this bind to begin with.”
“What should I do?” asked Morag, looking for guidance.
“Be strong, Morag. The Followers of the Secret Heart is a group only for strong women.”
“That’s why I wasna asked to be in it.” She sadly rested her head in her arms on the table. “I am no’ strong like Fia or Willow and Maira. I wish they were here right now to help me.”
“You are strong, Morag, but you need to take control of your life and stop living the same way you did as a child.”
“I dinna understand.”
“When you were a child, you were a follower. You always looked to others for your answers as well as for your strength. You don’t need me to guide you, Morag. I think my presence here is only making you rely on someone else instead of yourself.”
“Nay, dinna say that,” cried Morag, feeling it in the pit of her stomach that Mazelina was about to leave her. “Everyone leaves me. Dinna go. Please, stay,” she begged her. “I need ye. Dinna abandon me like everyone else.”
“Stop playing the victim and pick up your chin proudly and have faith in yourself.”
Tears streamed from Morag’s eyes. What she needed now was comforting but all she got were a few cold words that slapped her like a hand across her face. The sound of her horse whinnying caused her to jump up and run to the door. When she looked out, she saw the back end of it leaving through the gate of the secret garden. She had been in such a hurry to get to Mazelina and so upset by Bedivere, that she had neglected to tie it up properly.
“Nay!” she cried, taking a step out the door and then turning back around to talk to Mazelina. “Dinna leave. I’ll be right back.”
“I won’t be here when you return, Morag.”
That upset Morag and she bit her lip to keep from crying, shaking her head. “Then ye really are goin’ to abandon me just like everyone else?”
“Is that what you think they all did?”
A flash of lightning and a clap of thunder filled the sky making Morag jump. She needed to go after her horse but was afraid if she left Mazelina, she would never see the woman again. “I’m no’ done with my trainin’ yet,” she told her. “Ye canna leave me before I have learned to master my skill and do great things like the others.”
“Only you can decide if you will do great things or not in life. No mentor can teach you anything that, deep down, you don’t already know. The wisdom to guide you is already within you, and has been there all the time. Now, you just need to believe it. You need to believe in yourself.”
“Do ye believe in me?” asked Morag. “Do ye really think I can do great things?”
“It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Your decisions are yours alone. Now go, and look inside yourself and make the choices that feel right.”
“But how will I ken?”
“You’ll know.” The woman smiled and nodded and held her hand to her heart. “After all, you are a member of the Followers of the Secret Heart, so listen to your heart.”
“Thank ye,” said Morag, taking her last look at the old woman that she would never see again. Then, taking a deep breath, she looked out to the secret garden as the sky opened and the rain pelted down. She could stay here until after the storm but, if so, she may never find her horse. Bandits could claim it by then. There was no one here to help her and she had to trust in herself. She needed to be brave. She had to go.
Releasing her breath, she lifted her hood and stepped out in the pouring rain, ready to take control of her destiny for the first time in her life.
* * *
Bedivere rodehis horse through the forest in the rain, looking for Morag. When he discovered her horse missing from the stable, he figured she had come to the secret garden again. A horrible, threatening storm stirred all around him, and he was half-tempted to go back to the castle, but he didn’t. Morag was out here somewhere and he had to find her. She was most likely alone and possibly in danger.
Now that Whitmore had arrived at the castle, no one was safe. Any turn of events and the vile man could command one of the secret assassins to kill Morag or any one of them.
“Morag,” he called out, using his hand as a shield from the rain, sure he saw something move up ahead. His hand went to his sword as he rode forward. Then he saw it. Morag’s horse was pulling at its reins that were caught on a branch of a tree.
He rode up and untangled the reins, tying the horse to his horse’s saddle. “Morag,” he called out once again, his eyes scanning the area. He didn’t see her anywhere and couldn’t seem to find the gate of the secret garden. He cursed under his breath, now regretting not telling her the truth about him. She knew he’d kept things from her and he wasn’t sure she didn’t hate him at this moment.
He’d claimed the girl’s innocence last night and now regretted his actions. Never should he have taken her to his bed. In a moment of weakness, he let down his guard, feeling carefree and happy again. He hadn’t felt that way in years now, but was it worth it? For one night of pleasure, he had ruined anything that had developed between them.
“Bedivere?” He heard a faint voice and looked up to see Morag trudging through the forest on foot. Lightning flashed again and he felt the hair on his arms rise. A loud cracking sound up in the canopy made him realize lightning had struck a limb of a tree and it was right above Morag.
“Morag!” he shouted, racing forward on his horse, reaching down and scooping her up just as a large limb fell to the ground, crashing down right next to them. Morag’s horse became skittish and reared up, pulling at the reins. “Hold on to me,” he commanded, trying to hold back his own horse from running, while reaching back for the reins of Morag’s horse and trying to calm it at the same time.
“Bedivere, I’m scared,” said Morag, her arms wrapped around his waist as she sat in front of him. He managed to take control of the horses and headed back to the castle in the pouring rain.
“Don’t be frightened,” he told her. “As long as you’re with me, I will protect you. Do not worry.”
“I’m no’ frightened anymore now that I’m with ye,” she told him. “But I am still angry with ye, I must admit.”
“I know. And rightly so,” he agreed, holding to her tightly, never wanting to let her go. “We need to talk, Morag. There are some things I need to tell you, and they can no longer wait.”
