Page 5 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
“Since we last met,” he began, his voice steady, “I’ve done some research about yer... Triad.”
“And what have ye found?” She asked, her voice steady, betraying no sign of concern.
“It took time,” he replied. “Ye didnae exactly leave me with much tae go on. But eventually, in these five years since we met, I managed tae piece it together. The Triad—a secretive organization of investigators. Mystical, some call them. They’re hardly kent, even among the upper class. And they only take cases that interest them. Unless…” he paused
“Unless what?” replied Moira.
“Unless there is a favor involved,” he replied.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lips tighten into a thin line, but she remained silent.
“I understand the need fer secrecy, and I understand the weight of what I’ve done by calling ye here, but we both remember the night ye gave me the Triad’s coin, and why ye did it.”
“Aye,” Moira said, her composure faltering, if only slightly, for just a moment. A brief crack in her mask, her apparent stoicism betrayed by a tiny expression of frustration, alongside, Roderick noticed, a subtle hint of regret.
He had anticipated that bringing up that night might alter her composure, for it seemed as though she had been trying to pretend it had never happened at all.
“At the time,’” Moira continued, “I was nay more than an apprentice. If I had kenned better… I would have never made such a promise. If we’d met today…”
Roderick’s jaw tightened. “But that’s nae the case,” he replied firmly. “Without me help that night, ye wouldnae have been alive long enough tae even progress tae the position ye hold now.”
“Nay,” Moira responded, her tone icy. “I appreciate what ye did fer me at Dornoch. But if ye think that I couldnae have found a way out on me own, then ye’ve seriously underestimated me.” Moira crossed her arms, the air growing thicker by the moment. “I could’ve escaped without ye.”
“Maybe,” Roderick allowed, his voice cool. “But ye made me a very important promise. I’m redeeming it. Or are ye telling me the Triad doesnae honor its debts?”
“Careful, Roderick,” Moira warned. “I dinnae take kindly tae threats.”
“I dinnae mean tae threaten,” he said. “But ye made a promise that I ken ye have tae uphold. Ye have tae find out who murdered me faither.”
The words hung heavily in the air, a weight pressing down on the space between them. For a moment, neither of them moved, the flickering firelight casting long shadows across the room. Moira’s sharp eyes locked onto his, searching for some crack in his resolve, but his expression remained unwavering, his jaw set like stone.
“Murdered?” Moira finally cut through the silence, her expression filled with doubt. “But there’s nay reason tae believe that. Isnae it a wee bit far-fetched given the circumstances?”
Roderick edged closer to Moira, a faint edge of frustration creeping into his voice. “Aye, maybe, but I kenned me faither well. He was strong, hale. He was cautious in ways that others werenae. Yet somehow, after one hunting trip—one he’d made a hundred times before—he falls ill and dies? Doesnae that seem far-fetched?”
Moira didn’t speak, considering his words.
“Everyone thinks he died of natural causes, but I ken that’s nae the truth. I will find out who did it and bring that person tae justice.”
Roderick typically had rather a calm, collected, and gentle nature, whilst also being a natural leader. However, since his father’s death, he had become almost completely consumed by thoughts of vengeance. So much so that he found it difficult to control his frustrations.
“Roderick,” she began, her voice softening, “Ye cannae be sure. Just because ye dinnae want tae believe that yer faither’s death may have been nothing more than a careless mistake on the road, doesnae mean that it’s nae possible it’s true. I understand yer hurt, but, honestly, this may lead tae nothing more than a wild goose chase.”
Roderick took another step forward, closing the distance between them. Somehow, the room became smaller, the air heavier—and his eyes searched hers, hoping to connect to the part of her that might understand.
“This isnae just about what I want tae believe,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, somehow becoming more intimate. “I didnae just ask ye here on a hunch. Trust me, Moira,I ken.”
Roderick hadn’t known what to expect when he had asked Moira to go there, and part of him had thought she wouldn’t come. But he’d assumed that she would have been used to situations like his, so he couldn’t make sense of why she was so reluctant to help.
For a moment, Moira looked away from Roderick, off to the side of the room, seemingly trying to collect herself for reasons that he couldn’t understand. Then she visibly calmed and changed her demeanor. She straightened and looked back at him confidently. “Tell me everything ye ken, then. Every piece of information ye have about his death.”
Roderick’s jaw loosened, the tension was still palpable, but somehow he had gotten through to her. He knew that despite her cold approach, she’d be willing to help. After all, she had promised she would, and he sensed that she was a woman of her word.
“Me faither returned from a camping trip two days before he fell ill,” Roderick began. “The healer claimed that it’s possible fer a sickness tae take a long time tae settle in the body, but I dinnae trust his opinion at all.”
“And why nae?” Moira asked, arching a brow.
“Because he once nearly bled me dry after a skirmish,” Roderick replied sharply, spinning on his heel. “I was lucky tae survive. His competence is... questionable, tae say the least.”
