Page 50

D uncan reined Glendragon to a halt and dismounted near the edge of the pine copse. Kinnon and Robert followed his lead, tethering their mounts to nearby branches.

“What news from the men?”

“My scouts have not returned yet,” Robert answered.

“Nor mine,” Kinnon said. “Though I saw a glimpse of Ewen through the trees not far back. They should be meeting with us here shortly.”

Duncan nodded. “It will be none too soon. Morgana’s path leads straight through this bit of woodland, and beyond it rest the ruins of Carlisle.

She’s chosen a noble place to hide herself and any followers she may have gathered.

” He uncorked his water pouch, tipping his head for a long draught before giving the skin to Kinnon.

“We’ll remain here long enough to make final plans, but I want to move against her before the sun reaches its peak. ”

Kinnon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tossed the water sack to Robert. “The men will welcome an hour’s rest. It is wise to hold off the attack until then.”

Duncan looked around, searching the barren woodland for any sign of life.

He found none. Only the wind, wailing its forlorn song through the black, wet trees.

Peering straight ahead, he imagined that he could already see the ruin where Morgana was hiding, concealed there like a rat in a trap.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think too deeply on Aileana and her condition—or even whether or not she was still alive.

He couldn’t; not if he wanted to be able to concentrate on what needed to be done next.

He burned with a need to finish this, to bring Morgana to justice, but he knew that he couldn’t rush.

They needed a strategy. He would not fail in bringing the witch down this time, not if his very life depended on it.

He glanced at Kinnon. “The attack must be undertaken secretly. Once we’re inside you must find Aileana. I will lead another group to overpower Morgana and Colin. After she’s cornered, I’ll give her the option of surrender.”

A scowl darkened his cousin’s face. “And if she refuses?”

“Then I will be compelled to try to take her by force—though I will have to do what I can to prevent her death.”

“Why? What care we if Morgana MacDonell dies in the fighting that’s to come? Her death is our only hope for true justice,” Kinnon scoffed.

“Aye, and yet it will not be at my hand if I can help it. We’ll find our satisfaction by bringing her back to face the Council for her reckoning.”

Robert had remained quiet throughout the exchange. Now he stepped forward, murmuring, “MacRae, I’ve something to say to you. Alone.”

Duncan nodded, and Kinnon cast a cautious glance at them before moving away to check their horses. When they stood apart, Robert spoke again. “I want to give you my thanks.”

Surprise tingled through Duncan. “Thanks? It’s strange to hear you say it, considering what Kinnon and I were just discussing.”

Robert’s expression twisted with his clearly conflicting feelings as he admitted, “I’ll not pretend that this has been easy, but I can see that it is the just thing to do.

Morgana has hurt and coerced too many, including even Aileana, it seems.” A muscle in his jaw jumped.

“And so I’m thanking you for the restraint you’ve shown.

Knowing what happened those years ago, most men wouldn’t blame you if you charged into that ruin and took her life without blinking.

I’m grateful that you’ve chosen to do this with honor—with mercy, even. ”

Duncan’s jaw tightened. “I’ve no mercy where Morgana is concerned, MacDonell, make no mistake. But I’ll not risk losing a drop of Aileana’s blood—or her respect—because of Morgana if I can help it.”

“Whatever your reasons, I’m thankful.”

Their gazes connected for an instant, and Duncan nodded before his attention was drawn away by the activity occurring near the horses. Some of the men had returned, and they looked none too happy as they gestured and talked with Kinnon. Robert followed close behind as Duncan approached the group.

“What is it? What news?”

Gil stood with his arms folded across his chest, a little behind Ewen, whose face was flushed and strained.

“A message was tied to an arrow and shot into the flank of Hamish’s horse.” Ewen glanced away and shifted uneasily. “It demands that a single messenger from our group be sent, unarmed, to the gates of the ruin to receive further information concerning Aileana.”

Duncan fisted his hands and burst into motion, pacing toward the edge of the clearing to look at the castle ruin, just visible through the trees.

“Are you going to comply with the demand?” Kinnon asked, his face pale. “Any message from the witch cannot be trusted. We cannot even know for certain that Aileana is there.”

“And yet I have little choice,” Duncan answered grimly. “We’ll do as she asks. Perhaps we can strike a deal with her—learn what she wants. We’ll sort out the rest of it later.”

“I’ll go as messenger,” Gil offered. His chest expanded in anticipation of the important task, and he fixed his gaze on Duncan with an intensity that made him look older than his eighteen years.

Kinnon gestured toward the ruin. “Hold for a minute, Gil. How far do you think to bend in bargaining with Morgana, Duncan?”

Duncan’s heart thudded heavy and slow in his chest, and he felt an expansion of the burning sensation that had lodged in his gut ever since he’d first realized Aileana was in danger.

“I’m willing to do anything, Kinnon, including letting Morgana go for now, to prevent Aileana coming to harm.

I do not like it, but it is what I must do. ”

Kinnon looked like he’d swallowed something bitter, but he remained silent for a moment before finally nodding, “So be it.” Kinnon looked round to the others, calling, “Did everyone hear that? Any mistake can be deadly.” The men called out their agreement, and at Duncan’s signal, they fell into place behind him, riding into the clearing near the gate.

Gil tied a white flag onto his spear, and with one last look to Duncan, kicked his horse to a gallop.

Duncan watched, back stiff, as Gil approached the crumbled wall of the castle. A sudden movement flashed behind the rotted portcullis gate, and instinctively, Duncan reached for his claymore. The others followed suit, the air hissing with the sound of swords clearing their sheaths.

A moment later a tiny bundle was thrust through the opening, fastened to the tip of a spear. Gil took it, then wheeled his mount around to come riding back to them.

“Someone was waiting for me.” Gil pulled his horse to a halt beside Duncan. “But he wouldn’t exchange words. He only handed this over, then disappeared round the corner, into a dark passageway beyond the inner court.” Gil held out the offering to Duncan.

The linen square felt weighted. It was more than a simple message, sure.

Duncan unfolded the fabric so quickly that he almost dropped the object that fell from its creases.

With a jerk, he caught the token and then opened his gloved hand to view it.

Cold sliced through him, followed by a shock so deep that his hand froze in its outstretched position.

He couldn’t tear his gaze from the object in his palm.

Kinnon cursed softly as he too caught sight of it.

“What is it?” Robert asked, pulling his mount in closer.

“It’s the MacRae betrothal ring. The one Duncan gave to Aileana not two weeks ago.”

Robert grabbed at something that fluttered from the linen that had encased it. Unfolding the parchment, he said, “It’s a message, instructing you to come to the gate and enter alone, MacRae. The rest of us are to go back to the forest and forego an attack of the ruin for three days.”

Kinnon made a scoffing sound. “Not likely, that.”

Robert looked at him, his expression grim. “Aye, well it also says that if these conditions are not met, Aileana will die. The ring has been offered as a token of Morgana’s esteem—and as a reminder of what will be sacrificed if you do not heed her will.”

Duncan heard each of Robert’s words as if from a distance, though every syllable fell on his ears with the weight of death.

He felt a grinding in his gut that he hadn’t experienced since that night many years ago, when he’d woken after the massacre to find Mairi so still and silent beside him.

“I’m going after her. Now,” he said hoarsely, shifting Glendragon toward the gate and preparing to dig his heels into the stallion’s sides.

“Wait!” Kinnon grasped his bridle. “You can’t go in there, Duncan. It’s suicide to go alone.”

The muscles in Duncan’s arms twitched, and he wrenched Glendragon free of his cousin’s grip. “I’m going.”

“What can it serve, if this be nothing more than a ploy to entrap you?”

“It is a trap, about that there is no doubt, but I’d rather face it and die than not try at all and have Aileana suffer for it.”

“And what if—” Kinnon paused, his eyes shadowed with pain. “I hate even to think it, and yet if I did not voice the possibility I would be remiss as your kinsman…and as your friend.”

He shook his head, his expression grim. “God forgive me, Duncan, but what if Aileana herself is working with Morgana for some reason? What if this ploy is the one she knows will be most likely to bring you in—the one that will leave you most completely at their mercy?”

Duncan scowled and steadied Glendragon, who seemed to sense his master’s leashed fury, pawing and wheeling about as if to break into stride.

“If Aileana is that corrupt of heart and I am so mistaken in my belief of her, Kinnon, then I would rather be dead, for never again would I be able to trust my own judgment in anything or anyone,” he said, all the force of his passion and love for her filling his voice.

“But she is true, man; I know she is. And I cannot stand idly by while her devil of a sister destroys her in order to get to me.”

Robert broke in. “If you’ve a mind to go in after her, MacRae, I say do it.”

“It is my intent.” Duncan loosened his hold on Glendragon’s bridle a fraction; the stallion felt the change and lunged forward, prancing in a circle as Duncan issued his final command to Kinnon, Robert, and the others.

“Do as the message dictates, up to one point. If I haven’t returned with Aileana by nightfall, don’t wait.

Attack and take the castle. By that time I’ll have succeeded in gaining our freedom or else it will be over. ”

His gaze locked with Kinnon’s for an instant before he nodded and let Glendragon have full rein.

With a whinnying cry, the stallion broke into a gallop, crossing the outer courtyard and approaching the gate.

The wind whipped Duncan’s cheeks, and he clenched his jaw with impatience and anxiety.

Before long he reached the portcullis. Dismounting, he dropped Glendragon’s reins to the earth to keep him still and peered into the courtyard.

Nothing. All looked overgrown. Were it not for the messenger who’d given Gil the ring, he might have believed himself mistaken in thinking the place a home for naught but daws and spiders.

He leaned in further, searching for signs of life.

Out of the corner of his gaze he saw the movement an instant before a hand darted from an alcove in the castle wall to grip him by the plaid on his chest. As he was yanked into the courtyard, he caught a glimpse of the man’s arm.

In reflex, Duncan shifted his gaze to his attacker’s face. Golden-brown hair and a scowling mouth flickered into his conscious mind, then an image of an eye patch and a stare that was hard and remorseless…

Recognition slammed home, making Duncan suck in his breath.

Colin. He should have known his brother would be the one to greet him.

But before he could voice a word, a fist hurtled at his face, connecting with a sickening thud and dropping him into a darkness that was as all-encompassing as the flat chill of his bastard brother’s gaze.