He inclined his head. “Ye do. And I’ll give instructions that ye are to be given whatever help ye need from the castle staff.”
“Thank you.”
She paused and found herself staring at him. He stared right back.
Jenna cleared her throat. “Right. Well, I’ll… um… let you get back to your meeting. Er… see you at the party tomorrow?”
“Aye,” he breathed softly. “Ye will.”
Jenna turned and hurried away.
*
Arran watched Jennawalk away from him.Go after her, a voice shouted in the back of his head.Tell her how you feel! Do whatever it takes to make her yours!
Oh, how he longed to give into that voice! How he longed to call her back, to take her into his arms and never let her go. But he could not. Hewouldnot. He would not be that selfish.
Taking a deep breath, he turned and pushed the door open, returning to his advisors.
“Is everything all right, my laird?” Edrick, captain of his guard asked.
“Aye,” Arran replied gruffly. “Lady Jenna wished to discuss a household matter, that’s all.” He glanced at Mal and found his cousin watching him with a knowing look on his face.
Arran cleared his throat and returned his attention back to Edrick. He waved a hand. “Continue with yer report.”
“As I was saying, the fortifications at Tollman’s Gate turned back most of the attack, as we hoped they would, and most of the damage to the settlement was borne at the eastern end. That’s where they concentrated their attack.”
Arran thought back to the raid on Tollman’s Gate. It had been so chaotic he’d taken little heed of the disposition of the raiders but now, with Edrick’s report, something began to nag at him.
“What is at the eastern end of Tollman’s Gate? The chapel? Wealthy households?”
Edrick shook his head. “That’s what’s strange. We would normally expect them to attack those sorts of places—it’s generally where the wealth is—but both the chapel and all the wealthier households were ignored. And some of the defenders said the raiders didnae seem so bent on destruction as they expected either. Once they broke through, they didnae stop to fight, but ran farther into the settlement. As if—”
“As if they were looking for something,” Arran finished for him.
He pushed himself up from his chair and strode to one of the bookcases against a wall. Pulling down a scroll, he rolled it out on the table and pinned it at each corner with the pottery goblets they’d all been drinking from. A detailed map of the island filled the parchment, with each settlement clearly marked. Arran leaned over it, ran his hand along the coast until he found Tollman’s Gate, and placed a marker on it. Then he found the cove where his fishing fleet had been attacked and marked that too.
“Where else have there been attacks in the last six months?”
His advisors rose to their feet and clustered around the map.
“Here,” Mal said, placing another marker. “And here.”
In short order, twelve markers covered the map. Twelve attacks in six months. More than double the number that had taken place in the whole of the year before. The raiders were stepping up their attacks, but why? He placed his palms flat on the table and leaned over the map, scanning the placement of the markers. He began to sense a pattern, although he couldn’t quite see it yet.
“Mal, where was the first attack?” he asked. His cousin pointed to one of the markers. “And the second?”
As Mal pointed to each of the markers in the order that the raids had taken place, the pattern Arran had sensed gradually became clear. His fingers gripped the edge of the table hard. Unease began to churn in his gut.
“They’re not random,” he said, looking around at each of his advisors. “Look. Follow the pattern of the attacks. Each one takes place a set distance and direction from the last, homing in on a particular area, like a net closing in.”
Mal swore loudly. “Damn them to the hells! Ye are right! They’re moving closer and closer to this spot here.” His big hand came to rest on the far southeast of the island. It was the only area that had yet to have any markers on it—but it was surrounded by others.
“Why?” Edrick asked. “What are they doing?”
“They’re not just here for plunder,” Arran replied. “They’re looking for something. That’s what the attacks have been about.”
He looked over at Brother Merrick. The monk was leaning over the map, studying the pattern of the markers and his lips were moving as though talking to himself.
