Bridget readied her next arrow, but he stopped her before she set it on fire.
“Wait. These men are thieves, not fighters. Bravery is not a trait high upon their list.”
Within minutes, the gate swung open and Dobbie reappeared. He dropped his little boat into the water and begin paddling in their direction. When he reached the shore, he climbed from the boat and pulled the scrolls out from under the plaid he wore over his shoulder.
“MacAngus says that you should take your damned scrolls and go as far away from here as you can. He asks only that you leave us in peace.”
Hall took the scrolls from the boy, unrolling one to verify it was what they sought.
The power of the markings on the parchment slithered over his skin and up his arm, crawling toward the almost-healed wound on his shoulder like lice on a rat.
There was no doubt that these were the Elven Scrolls of Niflheim.
“You may tell MacAngus that we will plague him no longer.” Hall rolled the parchment back up and tucked it away, nodding toward the boy. “And as for you, Dobbie Caskie, don’t let me catch you bedeviling any of my friends in the future. You’d be best off making your way to those relatives you claim to have on Skye, and keeping your head down. Otherwise, I can promise you, I’ll be back. And I won’t be in such a forgiving mood the next time I pass this way.”
Something told him everyone in the crannog would likely reconsider his thieving ways.
At least for a day or two.
Twenty-seven
IT’S SETTLED, THEN.” Patrick MacDowylt pulled his pack from his horse and tossed it to the ground. “At first light, we head for Castle MacGahan to collect reinforcements before continuing on to Tordenet.”
“It’s not settled at all,” Hall responded, a scowl darkening his face. “Time is an issue. The longer we wait, the stronger Fenrir grows. I say we go directly there. Our success depends upon the items we carry, and how effectively we employ them, not upon the number of men in our force.”
Brie agreed with Hall but didn’t voice her opinion. Knowing this group of men as she did, she was aware that her voice could well be more detriment than help. Besides, bringing attention to herself would only lead to—
“We have to return to the castle first, in any event,” Jamesy said. “To make sure Brie and Mathew are safely behind the walls before we lead the attack on Tordenet.”
Exactly what Brie had expected. But she had no plans to accept her brother’s decree without a fight.
“You’ve no need to go to Castle MacGahan on my behalf. I’m going to Tordenet with you,” she said calmly.
“Like hell you are. Yer no going anyplace close to that castle or the Beast within.” Jamesy shook his head, his frown grown to match the best Hall had ever worn. “I’ve heard the stories of how close I came to losing my sister as well as my father to the Beast that lives there. Yer staying at Castle MacGahan, where I have no need to fash myself over yer safety. I have no appetite for losing the whole of my family to the MacDowylt.”
“Revenge for our father’s death is my right.” Brie kept her voice low. She wouldn’t be prodded into an angry confrontation over this. She might actually be getting the hang of this patience thing. “With you or without you, I intend to see Torquil MacDowylt’s debt to our family paid.”
Torquil’s and the Beast’s that lived inside him. They’d both pay.
Hall, thankfully, kept his peace in this particular battle, turning back to Patrick to press his contention that they would have better luck with a smaller party of men.
“There’s nothing to be gained in wasting time or risking additional lives. Chase told me the MacDowylt castle is rife with hidden passages. Our number could easily slip inside and find Fenrir without involving his entire army. Or risking ours.”
“There are passages aplenty as Chase described, but that’s no the tactic Malcolm has chosen to pursue. He himself was captured sneaking in through the passage leading from the shore into the castle grounds. This time he has decreed we approach with our army and enter through the front gates.” Patrick was adamant.
“Your brother’s choice is wrongheaded,” Hall insisted. “We risk too many lives with a direct confrontation. And the longer we wait—”
“My brother, wrongheaded or no, is our laird, and his word is our law,” Patrick interrupted.
Brie walked away to lead her horse through the trees and down to the water for a drink. There was nothing to be gained by playing audience to their continuing disagreement.
In the end they would do as Patrick insisted, even though Hall was likely right that they’d have more success with fewer men. Patrick followed his older brother’s lead, just as she was expected to follow her older brother’s lead.
Only Bridget MacCulloch was no Patrick MacDowylt.
With the sword whispering encouragement in her ear, there was no way she would allow anyone else to wield it against Torquil. It was her duty. Her right. Fate had given her a second chance at the man who’d murdered her father, and she had no intention of passing up this opportunity to redeem herself.
She had the sword in her possession and that was all she needed to accomplish her goal. Hall’s scrolls were of no importance to her. He intended to capture the Beast and confine it once more to its prison in the scrolls.
She had no interest in taking any prisoners. Whether it had been Torquil MacDowylt on his own who had ordered her father hanged, or the Beast that had driven the action, she intended to kill them both.
Hearing a noise behind her, she glanced back to find Hall leading his mount to the water.
“Will it be Tordenet or Castle MacGahan?” she asked, knowing full well what answer he would give.
“MacGahan,” he answered, irritation thick in his voice. “I’ve been overridden by the lot of them. Shortsighted, small minds.”
“I think you had the right of it,” she murmured, not daring to look at him. “For whatever my opinion is worth to you.”
“Your opinion is of high value to me. Higher than you know.”
His words gathered around her heart, warm and comforting in a way she’d never expected. If only—But no. There was no if only with this man. She’d already tried that.
She met his gaze, stark and serious. He lifted a hand toward her, but allowed it to drop to his side when the sounds of others coming through the underbrush reached their ears.
Damn the others for choosing that moment to join them. She wanted to thank Hall for not backing her brother’s insistence on leaving her behind. She wanted to thank him for trusting her skills in the confrontation with Dobbie and the bandits this morning. She’d even begun to consider the possibility of including him in the plan brewing in the back of her mind.
With the others approaching, that wasn’t possible now.
She’d just have to hope that he’d still hold her opinion in equally high value tomorrow morning.
With her animal settled for the night, she tossed her pack down by the fire alongside the others and began to mix the pieces of dried meat and fruits with the porridge for their evening meal while Jamesy’s friend Alex built their fire.
Keeping her thoughts to herself while she stirred the boiling oats, Brie listened to her brother and Patrick discuss their plans and their expectations for reaching Castle MacGahan tomorrow if they started early and rode into the night.
By utilizing the same strategy, rising early and riding late, she could reach her destination in only two days.
“I see you still haven’t learned to cook a decent bowl of porridge,” her brother joked as he took his first bite.
She smiled and nodded, keeping her temper in check. If this were the last encounter she would have with Jamesy, she wouldn’t go to her reward knowing it had ended in a fight.
Besides, Jamesy had the right of it. She didn’t like cooking and it showed in the food she prepared. She’d jumped at the chance to be responsible for the meal preparation tonight for only one reason.
N
o one ever paid attention to where the cook repacked the supplies, and she would need to apportion out her own share of their provisions for her journey.
Finn’s big, shaggy animal nudged at her leg and she fished a few bites of dried meat from the bag next to her. Dog could be a problem when she tried to slip away, unless he was already used to taking food from her. If necessary, she’d bribe him to silence with a few more tidbits.
When they’d all finished eating, Alex offered to clean up but Brie brushed aside his offer of help, in order to prepare things as she needed them done.
Once she’d finished, she sat on her blanket next to the fire where Jamesy had laid it out for her, only feet from where the others would sleep.
This wouldn’t work at all. These men were all warriors and not likely to sleep through her rising, rolling up her blankets and slipping away in the middle of the night.
Looking across the fire, she caught Hall staring in her direction and she glanced away. Sometimes it almost felt as if they shared thoughts, and she couldn’t afford to risk any suspicion tonight.
But the moment of connection with him made her remember his actions of the night before, when they’d waited for Dobbie Caskie at the loch.
Foolishly, she’d chosen a spot to sleep where the winds swept off the water and buffeted her mercilessly, ruining any chance for a decent night’s sleep. When the sharp sting of the wind had suddenly ceased, she’d peeked out from under her furs to find Hall had moved close by, blocking the wind with his body.
One more thing for which she owed him her thanks. The list just kept growing. And now she could add another item to it. His actions of last night gave her an idea of how to solve her current problem.
Putting her arms around herself, she exaggerated a shiver and rose to her feet. “I am not sleeping in a draft again tonight,” she grumbled as she gathered up her blankets and pack. “This will do,” she announced, and dropped her things beyond the fire’s circle of light, separated from her companions by a big rock.
“You’ll regret that choice in a few hours,” her brother cautioned. “It’s warmer by the fire—and besides, I hardly feel the wind at all.”
“Maybe not where your bedding lies,” she responded, curling into her furs. “But I felt it. I like this spot much better.”
When the only sounds in the camp were those made by sleeping men, Brie quietly gathered her things and made her way to her horse. She loosened his tether and led him into the forest, walking him for at least half an hour before risking the noise of taking to her saddle.
She wouldn’t look back, wouldn’t consider the concern the men she’d left behind would feel in the morning. By their actions, they had chosen her path for her.
Except for Hall. She did feel a moment of regret at not having said good-bye. But of all of them, he, more than any other, would understand.
At least, she hoped he would.
Twenty-eight
HE SHOULD HAVE guessed she’d do something as stubbornly foolish as this. But he hadn’t, so which of them was truly the more foolish?
Hall stood beside the smoldering remains of their campfire, staring at the empty spot where Bridget had slept the night before.
When she’d moved her bedding so far from everyone else, he’d convinced himself it was just to find a warmer spot.
When she’d offered to cook, that should have been clue enough. She hadn’t the natural ability to boil water without burning it.
And taking her brother’s criticism of her efforts in stride without a single angry retort?
Beyond foolish for him to have missed all the signs.
He should have known she would do exactly this. It had all been laid out before him as if it were a bedtime story, and he had closed his ears, closed his mind, and ignored every piece of evidence.
His normal suspicions, his ability to reason, even his good sense, had all lacked their usual clarity since Bridget had entered his life.
When he found her, and he would find her, he planned to give her such a talking-to she’d think twice before ever trying something like this again.
“Get yer gear packed and let’s be on our way,” Patrick called out as he headed toward the horses. “We’ll need to push hard to reach the MacGahan this night.”
“Bridget’s gone.”
His announcement sounded flat and lifeless—surprising, considering the panic bubbling in his chest. He could have waited to let them discover it for themselves, but the sooner they all knew, the sooner he could be on his way to find her.
“I’m sure she’s only strayed a bit. Down to the water, mayhap,” Jamesy said, crossing the camp to stare down at her empty spot as if he expected that she would suddenly reappear.
“She’s gone,” Hall repeated, lifting his pack and heading for his own horse. “Bridget, her horse, and her packs. All gone.”
There was no time to spare. He knew from experience that, unburdened by hunting for tracks as she had been the last time he went after her, she would be hard to catch. The woman could ride like the wind. He’d seen her do it.
“Where could she . . .” The words died in Jamesy’s mouth.
Her brother, as well as every other person in their camp, had to know where she was bound.
“Did you see her leave? Why dinna you try to stop her?”
An idiot question, that. If Hall had seen her leave, he wouldn’t have tried to stop her. He would have stopped her.
Or gone along with her.
“I found her place empty when I awoke.”
“I canna believe this. This is yer fault, O’Donar.” Jamesy, eyes flashing, turned and stalked toward him. “You could have spoken up in favor of Brie returning to Castle MacGahan. She might have listened to you, since she seems to agree with everything you say. Instead, you held yer peace and encouraged her to this action with yer silence. Whatever befalls her is on yer hands, and it’s me you’ll answer to for it.”
“You didn’t strike me as a fool, MacCulloch.” Hall continued to saddle up his horse as the young man approached. They had no time for this senseless bickering. “But if you think anything I could have said would have stopped your sister from doing what she wanted to do, a fool is exactly what you are. You would have been better off had you not insisted on her staying behind. At least then we’d have the ability to protect her. Bridget is a strong-minded woman, with a will of her own.”
“What do you ken of my sister?” Jamesy demanded, puffing out his chest.
“Best you stand down, Jamesy,” his friend Alex advised, placing a hand to his shoulder and pulling him back. “Now is the time to deal with the situation at hand, not to fight over what might have been or to attempt to assign blame.”
“Your friend gives you good advice.” Especially considering the peril Bridget rode toward. “We should focus our efforts on catching up to her before she reaches Tordenet. She may have the sword in her possession, but she left the scrolls behind. Without them, she has no chance of survival.”
Patrick mounted his animal and extended a hand to Mathew, pulling the boy up behind him. “Be off with you, then, all of you. Find her. I’ll take Mathew to Castle MacGahan and meet you at the gates of Tordenet with reinforcements.”
With kicks to his animal’s sides, Patrick was gone, and silence reigned in the little clearing until no sound of hoofbeats could be heard.
The five of them were headed north before anyone spoke again.
“How would the scrolls save her?” Jamesy sounded calmer now, though worry was evident in his expression. “I’ve seen my sister use her weapons. Many’s the time I’ve practiced with her. Between her bow and the sword, Bridget is a formidable opponent. So why do you say she canna survive without the scrolls?”
Formidable wasn’t good enough in a fight with a beast the likes of Fenrir.
“The treasures we carry work as a single unit to defeat the Beast. The sword drives the Beast from Torquil’s body. The scrolls capture the essence of the Beast and contain it. The
jewels serve to hold everything in check, like a lock.”
“Trying to think as my sister might”—a sheepish expression crept over Jamesy’s face—“which I should have tried before now, she has no interest in capturing yer Beast. She plans to kill it.”
Hall knew well enough how Bridget thought. He’d already considered the scenario her brother described, and it was that knowledge that worried him most and drove him to ride harder now.
“The Beast knows all too well the danger of the sword. As a result, it can only be destroyed while it is contained within the scrolls. If it is driven from Torquil’s body without the scrolls being close enough to capture it, it will simply enter and inhabit the nearest living host.”
Jamesy’s expression of horror indicated the moment he understood the danger to Bridget.
“Yer telling me that the Beast will claim Brie.”
“Body and soul,” Hall confirmed. Neither of which he was willing to cede to Fenrir.
Twenty-nine
BRIE AWOKE LONG before the sun made its appearance. Not that she’d slept all that well to begin with. She was too close to Tordenet to risk a fire of any size, and the night had been especially cold.
In spite of the nerves churning her stomach, she needed to eat to prepare herself for the long day ahead. Today she would face the greatest challenge of her life, and this time she would not fail.
Before nightfall had forced her to seek shelter, she’d spotted the tower spires that heralded the approach to Tordenet. They’d been little more than tiny lines against the sky, but she’d known them for what they were. As she drew closer today, they would gleam white in the sun.
Not in welcome, but in warning.
She reached out from under her heavy furs to drag her pack in next to her. Digging inside it, she found the dried meat she hunted. Tough and salty, it did little to settle her stomach, but she ate it anyway for nourishment. She couldn’t afford to falter due to weakness.
Today she would ride north, keeping under cover of the woods while she skirted the castle walls, until she reached the sea. From there she would follow the shoreline to the castle and make her way inside.
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