If Conall’s intelligence was correct—and he had no reason to doubt it—their target should be appearing at any moment.
The day was warm and despite the breeze that shivered through the trees, Kai felt sweat beading on his brow and trickling down his face. He resisted the urge to wipe it away, focusing intently on the wide path that snaked through the woods below.
It had taken weeks to reach this point. Weeks of meticulous planning, of reconnaissance, watching, waiting, of chasing every rumor and scrap of information and now, finally, they were about to strike.
It couldn’t come soon enough. Matters in the Highlands were worsening by the day: alliances fracturing, unrest in the villages, rumors that seemed to take on a life of their own. If Kai and his men weren’t successful soon, the unrest would likely spill over into bloodshed before the month was up.
He adjusted the grip on his sword, tightening the leather wrapping around the hilt. His fingers itched to draw the blade, but he knew better than to rush things. Patience was key.
Minutes passed, then an hour. Kai’s muscles tensed with anticipation, but he didn’t move. The others were equally still, waiting for his signal.
And then he heard it—the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the path. But they were coming from the wrong direction—from behind him rather than the path below. Damn! Had Conall’s intelligence been incorrect, after all?
Kai glanced to his left, saw Magnus looking back at him. The big man’s gaze was full of questions, and Kai knew what he was thinking. Did they go ahead with the plan, or retreat? Kai made his decision. He nodded once, indicating he was going to take a look. Then he rose from his hiding place and darted back along their trail towards the source of the footsteps.
He moved swiftly but cautiously; keeping low and using every bit of cover at his disposal.
As he drew nearer, the footsteps grew louder. Whoever was coming, they were making no effort to hide their approach. Kai darted behind a tree trunk, pressing his back against the rough bark, and listened. Then, with a quick lunge, he darted out and grabbed the figure who suddenly stepped around the bend in the path. It was a short, round old woman with gray hair and a startled expression on her face.
Kai started in surprise and released her, backing quickly away. He took in the gray bun, the dark eyes, the wrinkled face and rosy cheeks and his mouth dropped open in shock. He recognized this woman.
“Irene?” he said incredulously. “Irene MacAskill?”
“Good day to ye, my boy,” she replied cheerfully. “Fancy running into ye on this fine day.”
“But...but...” Kai stammered, trying and failing to string a sentence together.
He’d seen this woman many times when he was a boy, but not since he’d grown into a man. And yet, despite the years that had passed, she looked exactly the same: a face so wrinkled it looked like a dried-up apple and a bright smile that made her look like a kindly grandmother.
“Ye should shut yer mouth, dear,” Irene said with a grin. “Ye might catch a fly.”
Kai snapped his mouth closed. He glanced around, but they appeared to be alone. “What are ye doing here, Irene?”
Irene had never shown any interest in him before. She’d only ever been interested in his older brother, Rory.
“Rory isnae here,” Kai said to her. “He’s at Callingford with Leah and the twins.”
Irene MacAskill cocked her head. “Aye, so I gather. But I’m not here for yer brother. I’m here to speak to ye.”
Kai blinked in surprise. “Me?”
He couldn’t imagine what business the old woman could have with him. Did she know about his mission? It was possible since he’d been given it by the Order of the Osprey and they served the Seelie Fae. Was she here to help? The services of a Fae could come in very handy indeed.
“Did Lord Brochan send ye?” Kai asked. “If so, perhaps ye can help us out with something. Someone is going to come along that path any minute. If ye could just—”
Irene held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not here for that, my boy. I canna interfere with events, as ye well know.”
If she wasn’t here to aid him, then why was she here? He crossed his arms, annoyed. “If ye aren’t going to help, then kindly allow me to get back to my men. I’ve delayed too long already.”
He turned to go but she grabbed his arm. For an old lady, she had a grip like a tavern-brawler.
“I said I canna interfere,” Irene said. “But Icangive choices. After that, the path ye choose is yer own.” She cocked her head and studied him. That gaze seemed to pin him to the spot like a well-aimed spear. “Ye are a great man, Kai Stewart,” she said softly. “Or at least, ye could be. But that depends on the choices ye make now. It depends if ye choose to allow someone to see behind the mask ye paint for yerself. Perhaps then ye will find the path that will lead ye to the man ye are meant to be.”
Kai rolled his eyes. “Oh, really? Well, thank ye for the advice.” Had she gotten him confused with his older brother, who might have listened to this rubbish? “I’m more than happy with the ‘path’ I’m on, thank ye for asking.”
He had his mission, his men, willing women dotted up and down the land, and enough gold to buy whatever he needed. What more could any man want? It was a grand life he led and he didn’t need some interfering old woman telling him differently.
He tried to tug his arm from Irene’s grip but she did not let him go. Her fingers tightened around his wrist.
