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And with the spoils of victory being nothing less than a final judgment on the survival of his own, battered heart.

“I don’t think we should be stopping,” Duncan said. “We’re too close.”

Kinnon squatted next to the newly kindled fire and threw another handful of sticks onto it. “The men cannot continue. Besides, it’s dark now and harder to find the witch’s path.”

“All the more reason to keep going. We may lose her altogether if we don’t push on. By morning the signs of her may have faded.” Duncan paced round the edge of the fire. Though they’d been traveling for hours and his body was weary, he knew he’d not find rest this night.

And yet he needn’t have dissembled with Kinnon.

His cousin was well aware of the real reason he couldn’t bear stopping: his fear for Aileana.

Duncan’s remaining doubts concerning her innocence had vanished with the first scrap of cloth they’d spotted along the trail.

It was from an old swath of plaid Aileana always wore as a shawl when she worked in the garden or foraged for herbs…

any time she would be digging in the dirt.

That plaid had gone missing with her, and so when that first bit had been found, his heart had leapt with renewed hope—and lancing fear.

Had there been a struggle of some kind, one that Nora hadn’t witnessed?

There was no blood to be seen, no sign of crushed bracken.

But the bit of cloth he’d found had been torn away from the larger piece; there was no mistake.

When they’d stumbled upon two more scraps of the same pattern along the way, Duncan had known that Aileana was leaving him intentional signs.

She’d gone with Morgana and Colin against her will, regardless of what it had seemed to Nora.

Kinnon agreed, though some of the other men still expressed doubt, saying the cloth could have snagged on branches as she fled to the north.

But Duncan knew better. Aileana was in danger, and she was trying to let him know it.

Suddenly, the impulse to find and punish the two people who had orchestrated so much misery for him those many years ago burned hotter and deeper.

“Morgana’s tracks will be as clear in a few hours as they are now,” Kinnon said, pulling his thoughts back to the present.

“Actually they will be better, for the fact that we’ll have daylight to show the way—and help us spot any new clues.

” He cast Duncan an understanding look before getting up and calling to Ewen, telling him to bring a few of the spitted hares they’d prepared for roasting over the coals.

While they waited, he added more quietly, “Try to curb your impatience, cousin. It will not serve Aileana to try to fight Morgana when we are tired and hungry. The men need rest. At the first sign of light, we’ll resume our way. ”

Duncan’s jaw clenched in frustration. He felt afire, his body consumed with a heat and energy that drove him to action.

But Kinnon was right. The men were exhausted.

He shook his head when Kinnon offered him a bannock cake.

He couldn’t eat. Not yet. Too many thoughts cluttered his mind, and he had to clear them before he could do anything other than envision his goal.

His cousin stiffened beside him, pulling him again from his musings. Aileana’s brother Robert was approaching, and Kinnon glanced at him before murmur ing, “I’m not convinced it was such a good idea to include him on the hunt for his own sister. How can we be sure he’s to be trusted?”

“I’ve taken care of it. Don’t worry.”

There was no time for more talk, once Robert came within hearing distance. Kinnon busied himself setting the hares to roast, and Duncan nodded to Robert, who crouched next to the fire with a troubled expression on his face.

“Is something amiss?” Duncan asked, tossing him a bannock cake before sitting on a chunk of log near the blaze.

“Nothing other than that I don’t relish thoughts of what’s to come on the morrow.”

Kinnon raised his brow and caught Duncan’s gaze. “I hope you’re not having second thoughts about joining us against your sister, MacDonell.”

Robert shook his head. “Nay. Morgana must be found; I know that—for both our clans’ sakes as well as for Aileana.

” He sat down near Duncan and sighed. “I want to help you, MacRae, in any way that I can.” He twisted a twig in his fingers until it snapped, then tossed the pieces into the popping flames.

“I just need to know what you’re planning to do with Morgana once you find her. ”

Duncan remained silent, staring into the fire and watching it lick at the wood, devouring it. His imagination ignited with similar force, producing visions of what he’d like to do to Morgana once he found her. What he’d wanted to do to her for thirteen years.

She’d ruined his young life. Stealing the Ealach had hurt him, yet it wasn’t the worst. He might have forgiven her that.

But she’d destroyed his clan and killed Mairi out of spite.

She’d murdered innocent people simply for the pleasure of hurting him, and he’d had to relive that agony every day since.

Now she’d taken Aileana. It was a pain worse than any the English had inflicted on him in the Tower, and he’d never forgive her for it.

The only thing stopping him from cornering her like a vicious beast and driving his claymore through her evil heart was the thought of Aileana.

How would she feel if he sought final vengeance against her sister?

Her family’s blood already stained his hands, her father having been killed by his men during the initial battle to retrieve the Ealach .

Aileana seemed to have made peace with that sin, it was true, but would she be able to forgive him a second time?

And then there was the fear of what Morgana might do to Aileana if he ordered a direct attack once he located their hiding spot.

Aileana was in the deadly grasp of a witch who had already proven herself capable of base murder and betrayal.

She’d had Mairi killed; who knew how much more vindictive she’d be with her own sister as the object of her resentful hate?

Nay, a downright attack on Morgana’s holding in an attempt to kill her was too dangerous, much as he’d like to order it.

He couldn’t risk the woman he loved any more than was absolutely necessary to free her.

Dark fear for Aileana gnawed at him, but he forced himself to push it aside in order to concentrate on what he could do to bring this nightmare to a just and safe conclusion for them all.

Looking at Robert once again, Duncan leaned his forearms on his thighs. “What do you think I should be doing with Morgana once we catch her?”

From Robert’s expression, Duncan could see that he’d thrown him off guard. He met Duncan’s gaze, finally, searching, perhaps, to see if he’d been in earnest.

“I think you should bring her back to the High Council and let them decide what is right, both for the Ealach and for her. They banished her once, and she stayed in seclusion, as dictated.” His tone dropped a little lower as he added, “Though she did lead us all to believe her dead.” Straightening his shoulders, he glanced to Kinnon then stared at Duncan again.

“But Morgana hasn’t done wrong to either of our clans since then.

She threatened to seek vengeance when she left, aye, but she has not acted upon it.

And while it is true that she may have coerced Aileana into coming with her, it was my understanding that we’re riding after her to find out the truth of it and to prevent her from doing anything unjust or evil with the Ealach . ”

Duncan leaned back. It took him a long time to answer, but when he did he spoke evenly, with resignation and finality. “I agree, MacDonell. And that’s what I’m planning to do. Bring her back to face the Council.”

“What?” Kinnon shot to his feet, the question slicing across the space between them like a blade. “What the hell do you mean, you’re going to bring her back to the Council? After the crimes she committed against you—after all that she did to us? ”

If he hadn’t prepared himself for such a reaction, Duncan would have bristled at being questioned so, even by his cousin.

But all he felt was guilt. He’d known Kinnon would protest. And the unwritten law of the Highlands supported Kinnon’s instincts.

A life for a life. If they followed the code, Morgana needed to die in order to repay the lives she’d ruined and the evil she’d wrought.

But he couldn’t go through with that. His heart would no longer allow it. His soul was tied, now, to something stronger, something more important than vengeance.

“I cannot seek retribution as I’d like, Kinnon, or allow it to be taken under my leadership.

If the Council decides for her execution, then so be it.

I will not be sorry for it.” He glanced to Robert.

“But I cannot kill her. If I do, I’ll only be allowing her to commit another crime.

Her death at my hands would sow the seeds of destruction between Aileana and me, and I will not allow that to happen.

The witch cannot be given the means to destroy my life again. ”

“But she killed Mairi, for God’s sake. She had you locked in the goddamned Tower for thirteen years. She’s taken Aileana to do Lord knows what. Does none of that matter to you any longer?”

Duncan stood up, his back tight, his chest aching.

By using Mairi’s memory and questioning his loyalties—by bringing Aileana into this—Kinnon was dangerously close to crossing the line.

“I’ve not forgotten any of it, Kinnon, nor will I ever,” he growled.

“Forgetting is not the reason Morgana won’t die by my hand. Loving Aileana is.”

Kinnon didn’t answer. The flickering light from the fire illuminated his face, showing the sweep of emotions that passed through him.

Duncan waited, watching him, and their gazes met.

God help him, but he hoped Kinnon would understand.

He had to understand. Their friendship, their bond was no small thing, and it would be one of the most difficult and wrenching dilemmas he’d faced yet if his cousin refuted his decision.

Finally Kinnon shifted, breaking the silence when he glanced away, murmuring, “Aye, well, do as you see fit. I’ve supported you from the time we were lads, and I’ll not be changing that now. If capturing Morgana alive is what you want, then I’ll do what I can to help you make it happen.”

Duncan reached out and gripped Kinnon’s shoulder, the gesture speaking his thanks with more eloquence than any words could.

Suddenly, something crackled in the brush just beyond the clearing’s edge. Duncan stiffened, gazing warily into the dark. Robert and Kinnon heard it too and stopped, half turning toward the noise as their hands slid to their claymores.

Without uttering a sound, Duncan gave a quick nod, and Robert walked away, pretending to go for another wineskin as he warned the men who sat at a fire farther off.

Kinnon met Duncan’s gaze, and understanding flashed between them.

As of one accord, they slung arms round each other’s shoulders, raising their voices in feigned laughter and talk as they worked their way ever closer to the area beyond the clearing.

When they reached to within five paces of the spot, they bolted into the brush, drawing their weapons and standing to each other’s backs as they tried to flush out the hidden intruder.

But there was nothing. Nothing but a few broken branches and a place where the coating of fallen leaves looked to have been disturbed.

Robert and the others had joined them by this time.

Several of them carried torchlights, and they all searched, looking more thoroughly for a sign of the unwelcome visitor.

“Must have been an animal, attracted by the scent of food,” Gil said.

Duncan let the branch he’d been holding aside swing back and returned to the clearing.

“A fox, mayhap,” Kinnon suggested, following close behind.

“Aye, a fox.” Duncan squatted near the fire, looking over the dancing flames into the shadows of the glen beyond the trees. “Or a witch,” he added quietly.

Kinnon sank down beside him. “You think it possible that Morgana watches us from the cover of the woodland?” He spoke so that only Duncan could hear him.

“Though she thinks us unaware that she is alive, she had to consider the possibility that I’d be coming to look for Aileana.”

“Then why would she not make herself known and attack us here in the forest rather than lead us to her hiding place?”

Duncan shook his head, standing and gesturing for Kinnon to come with him as he walked to check their mounts.

“It may not have been her at all. If it was, it could be that she has other plans for us. Perhaps she wanted to learn what she’d be facing in numbers so that she could muster enough of her own to help her in defending her position. ”

“Should we initiate a search now, then?”

Duncan weighed the question in his mind. The same thought had occurred to him. But he couldn’t be sure it had been Morgana. He’d been dwelling so heavily on wrenching memories and tortured thoughts that he could be imagining what wasn’t even there.

Finally he shook his head again. “Nay. If it was Morgana, we’d gain nothing by following her now, as you pointed out. She’s clever enough to hide in the dark. We’ll track her down in daylight as planned and corner her in her lair.”

Kinnon nodded. Together they headed back to rejoin the others.

Yet though all settled into quiet and soon slept, Duncan couldn’t rest. He found it impossible to relax.

Everywhere he looked he seemed to see eyes glittering at him from the dark, preventing him from dispelling the notion that Morgana MacDonell planned to out-smart him…

That she plotted to make him commit a tactical error that would cost him dearly in the end.