Page 23 of Time of the Warlord (Stones of Scotland #5)

C iaran awoke abruptly at the first sound of hammering on his door. He yanked it open before the second blow could land, and found a rumpled-looking royal guardsman.

“What’s happened?”

“The prisoner’s gone, my lord,” the guardsman blurted. “Along with her sister.”

Ciaran cursed. He should never have let Sadie out of his sight. He knew how devoted she was to her twin sister. Of course she’d done something like this. Of course she wouldn’t trust him to protect Norah.

“That’s not all, my lord,” the guardsman said nervously. “They took the prince with them.”

Oh no. This just got worse and worse.

Ciaran dressed as quickly as he could and rushed out into the chaos and upheaval. Guards were being questioned, witnesses were calling out what they’d seen, people were panicking. In the center of the hall sat Comgall and Bethany, hand in hand. Bethany’s red-rimmed eyes suggested she had been weeping, but both King and Queen kept their faces calm and impassive.

Ciaran dropped to his knees in front of his king.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I’ve failed you. I had no idea they would take the young prince-”

Comgall sighed heavily, cutting him off.

“Don’t blame yourself, Ciaran,” he said. “Besides, judging by the various accounts we’ve heard, it seems Matthew was a willing part of this escape. We might even say that he took them.”

“Then forgive me for not guessing how he would act,” Ciaran said, hanging his head. “I knew he wasn’t happy with me - and he’s run away before - but I never expected this.”

“We do not blame you for anything,” Bethany said gently. “You have been a good foster-father to my son.”

When Ciaran looked up, she met his eyes with a soft smile.

“We do need you to find him, though,” Ciaran said. “This news has spread too far, too fast. Everyone knows that he is out there, alone and vulnerable. He must be brought back to Dunadd. The prisoners too, if you can find them, although I imagine they are long gone by now.”

Ciaran nodded and rose to his feet.

“I will do everything I can to track them down.”

If they are still in this time . He left the words unsaid. Comgall and Bethany already understood.

He chose a few men, hand-picked for loyalty, and rode out of Dunadd as quickly as they could prepare. Dawn was still only just breaking, and the low light meant Ciaran could not ride with the speed he would have liked. Without the bright light of day, it would be too easy to miss things, and a single clue could prove vital.

And there it was - the one clue he needed. Horses had turned off the road at this point. There was no reason for honest travelers to leave the road here, miles from any settlement. He turned his reluctant mount into the bushes, signaling for the men to follow along behind him.

All too soon, he reached the stone circle, and his stomach dropped. What if he was too late? What if all three of them had already traveled through the stones? This was a road that he could not travel, even with all the will in the road.

“Dismount,” he ordered the men. “See what you can find.”

They all ranged out around the circle, searching for any evidence. Ciaran couldn’t believe he was back here, at another stone circle. Life contained so many strange, cruel loops.

“It looks like there was some kind of struggle over here,” one of the men called out. Ciaran marched over and instantly saw the same signs on the ruffled grass. Matthew? Or Sadie?

“Some red hair stuck to this stone,” another man called. Ciaran stiffened. Her hair…

The single strand was still bright.

“See if you can find any more,” Ciaran told his men. “Spread out.”

He was the one who found the next strand - wrapped around one of the ferns that grew a little way away from the stone circle.

“They came this way,” he called to the men. “Mount up and we’ll try to follow them. One of you must lead my horse so I can track.”

Now that he knew where to look, he could detect signs of footprints. Someone had tried to sweep them away as they went, so he could not tell the size of the group, but he would wager that a few people had passed through here - and not that long ago. He walked on, his men trooping behind him, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, the footsteps grew fresher and fresher. They were gaining on them.

The bracken and grass gave way to trees. Ciaran moved more slowly now, wary of what might be lurking in the shadows. It was reassuring to have three well-trained warriors at his back.

He knew the second they reached their destination. The trees faded away again as they approached the edge of a village. The blurred trail of wiped-out footprints led straight to the back of a rundown old cottage, so tatty that Ciaran could see the holes in the roof even from here.

“That’s the place we need,” he murmured to his men. “Spread out and surround it. We attack on my command.”

The men dismounted one by one and tied their horses to nearby trees. They spread out, half in one direction and half in another. Ciaran himself crept closer and closer to the back door of the cottage. He had no idea what awaited them inside, but there was no one in Dunadd who posed a risk to the king’s guardsmen. They were the best of the best. He crept a little closer, raising his hand to give the signal. The men nearest him would convey it to the man on the other side of the building.

But, just before Ciaran could give the signal, he heard an almighty bang. Everything around him vanished in a haze of white smoke. Coughing and choking, he ran forwards, desperately trying to reach the cottage. A woman screamed, and he tried to make his legs run faster. But he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see. He reached out in front of him, but the white smoke covered everything.

“Sadie!” he shouted.