Page 51 of Awoken
“Brochan,” Duncan murmured. “I thought ye were dead?”
The outlaw grinned, although his eyes were hostile. He was around a decade older than Duncan, his leathery, tanned skin crisscrossed with fine lines. “Aye … ye did yer best, MacKinnon … but I lived and found a place at Craeg the Bastard’s side instead.”
Brochan came to a halt in the center of the solar. Broderick and four other warriors stood behind him, awaiting the clan-chief’s command.
Duncan MacKinnon observed the outlaw, and as he did so, the chill faded and heat stirred in his belly. His hands, which hung at his sides, slowly clenched and unclenched.
So Craeg had abducted Lady Leanna—and had sent this cur to deliver his terms?
Hatred coiled within him, with such strength that his gut hurt.
I should have made sure Craeg and Brochan died all those years ago … why did I not?
He’d been foolish back then. He’d been sure both men would die from their injuries, but clearly his arrogance had gotten the better of him. It had been a gross miscalculation, for instead Craeg had grown strong over the years and amassed a loyal following.
Men like Brochan—who’d die for him, if necessary.
Duncan clenched his jaw so tightly that pain arrowed through his right ear. Brochan was a fool to come here alone and try to blackmail him, and Craeg was reckless to have sent him here.
The outlaw would have a nasty end. But first, Duncan would get the details he needed from him.
Craeg was kneeling by the burn, splashing water across his face, when Gunn approached. The morning sun had just broken through the mist, and around him the trees chattered and trilled with the dawn chorus.
“Brochan has disappeared,” the warrior announced.
Craeg sat back on his heels and blinked water out of his eyes. He then glanced up at the big man. His face was creased with concern.
Craeg made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. Reaching for a rough cloth, he rose to his feet and dried his face. “He’s probably just gone hunting.”
Gunn folded brawny arms across his barrel chest. “He left his longbow and arrows behind … and told no one he was leaving.”
Craeg went still, a heavy sensation settling in the pit of his gut. “He wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t he?”
“But I forbade it.”
“Ye know Brochan doesn’t take well to being told ‘no’.” Gunn was scowling now. “He was angry after ye denied him yesterday. I heard him complaining at the fireside later.”
Craeg rose to his feet, anger coiling within him. “Everyone else would agree that his plan was reckless.”
“Aye … but when he talked of all the silver our guests would buy us, some of them looked half-convinced.”
Craeg gave a snort of disgust. Coin. It had a corrupting influence on everyone, even those who’d sworn to use it for good. “So he left alone?”
“Looks like it … no one else is missing.”
Craeg raked a hand through his already disheveled hair and growled a curse. “That idiot will bring hell down upon us.”
“If ye could go anywhere, live anywhere, where would it be?”
Leanna’s question shattered the companionable silence within the hut. A new day had dawned, and Fenella had brought them food to break their fast. The outlaw wore a grim expression and had thumped the tray down without a word before departing. However, she’d left the door open, allowing the fresh dawn air to filter in. Outdoors, Leanna glimpsed a pale, misty morning.
Ross put down the wedge of bannock he’d been buttering and met her gaze, his mouth lifting at the edges. “I don’t rightly know … it’s not a question I’ve ever asked myself.”
“But if ye could?”
There was a restlessness within Leanna as she asked the question, a need to ‘know’ this man. Time was running out; she could feel it slipping through her fingers like fine grains of sand. She needed something to cling on to, something to remember.
