Page 63 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

The keep itself appeared far from inviting but that a warm fire waited, and others as well, had Esme eager to enter the place.

Inside, the cold bit deeper. The fire in the large hearth barely warmed the air in the long-deserted hall. Nug stood by the hearth, poking the logs to flame brighter while Dru sat at a table with Knox, tucked in the crook of his large arms for warmth. Two warriors waited outside the front door and a few others were positioned near the keep but out of sight to watch for any uninvited guests.

Ryland walked with his hand at Esme’s back, directing her to a table close to the heat of the hearth and once he saw her seated, he said. “We need to make this brief. The longer you all stay, the more chance of you being seen and word spreading.”

“So, now with your life in danger what do we do and is there anyone you suspect?” Nug asked.

Esme watched shadows brush across Ryland’s handsome face as if masking and unmasking him and she thought how appropriate, having spent time being two men.

“A suspect list would be long. Torrance made enemies, some obvious, some hidden,” Ryland said. “But with his own men betraying him, there is a chance that the source comes from within Clan Glencairn itself. Hakon is tracking two men dressed as monks. I believe they may have been the ones who poisoned the food meant for me, but Esme ate and suffered instead.”

“Thank the Lord you survived,” Dru said, and Esme smiled her appreciation for her thoughtful remark.

“Does Hakon know who you are?” Knox asked.

Ryland shook his head. “Nay, he nor Brack know. Best it stays that way… for now.”

“Then we move fast before it is too late for you and Esme,” Dru said. “I’ll get word to my contacts. See if any rumors surface, coin for information usually works faster than blades.”

Nug rubbedat the back of his neck. “I hate to agree with Dru, but she’s right. We need to move fast before it’s too late.”

Dru turned her head, her hand going behind her ear to push it out as if to hear better. “What was that you said, Nug. I didn’t quite hear you. Something about me being right?”

“You heard it well enough and it’s the last time you’ll hear it,” Nug said and glared at Dru, hearing her chuckle. “I need to get back to the clan. Make sure that our warriors stand ready should the worst come. And I am sure you want The Monk to know.”

“The Monk is no fool,” Dru said. “I bet he’s already figured it out and is just waiting for conformation. And if you can trust anyone, it’s The Monk.”

Esme had heard of The Monk, a fierce and exceptionally skilled mercenary who her husband had admired. She had heard that Torrance, though it was actually Ryland who had placed The Monk in charge of Clan MacLeish not long after the battle and until he ordered otherwise. Ryland had made sure to see to the safety of his clan as soon as possible. Torrance had been right about trusting Ryland to keep his word. He was a man of honor and would do anything to keep his clan, his family, safe.

“One more thing before we take our leave,” Nug said. “What brings you to these parts, Ryland?”

“A secret that may help settle this situation. But not one I am ready to discuss just yet. Now be on your way and I will be in touch with my usual cryptic messages for you to decipher.”

While Nug and Knox went to Ryland for a few private words before departure, Dru went to Esme. “You’ve got courage surviving a marriage to the devil himself. But you have nothingto fear with Ryland. He is a good man. A bit commanding at times, but that comes from being a wise chieftain. You’re safe with him.”

Esme smiled softly. “Thank you for your encouraging words.” She wanted to believe they were true, but once again she simply did not know what or who to believe or trust.

The fire crackledlow in the hearth, its glow barely touching the thick stone walls. Shadows shifted and stretched along the high, soot-streaked ceiling. Dust clung to every surface, undisturbed for years, and cobwebs fluttered like lace in the draft. Esme drew her knees to her chest, wrapped in her cloak on a blanket spread out near the fire.

They hadn’t bothered exploring the rest of the keep. Neither had the stomach to wander halls echoing with old grief. The Great Hall was enough of a haven for the night. More than enough.

Ryland sat close beside her, his body brushing against hers, staring into the fire like it held answers. Or maybe penance. He could sense she had more questions and ones he didn’t want to answer. But he could understand her wanting to know, though he worried that knowing would only cause her more pain?

“You didn’t tell me everything,” Esme said softly.

His gaze didn’t move. “About what?”

“What Torrance said… before he died.”

He let silence linger between them.

She felt his hesitancy to answer her in the way his body tensed and shifted against her. “He said something about me, didn’t he?”

Ryland didn’t look at her. “Some things are better left unsaid.”

“I want to know.” She didn’t demand. It was more of a soft plea.

Ryland struggled between her right to know and not wanting to hurt her.

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