"What is it?" he called out, his voice rough with sleep and irritation at being disturbed.
"It's Daemon. I need tae speak with ye. Now."
The urgency in his brother's voice cut through the fog of sleep immediately. Tòrr carefully extracted himself from Liliane's warmth, pressing a kiss to her temple when she murmured in protest.
"Stay here," he said softly. "Sleep."
She nodded drowsily, already drifting back to sleep. He watched her for a moment, her face peaceful, so different from theguarded woman she was when awake, then forced himself to move.
He dressed quickly, pulling on trousers and a shirt, not bothering with his boots before opening the door just wide enough to slip through. Daemon stood in the corridor, still dusty from travel, his expression grim.
"This better be important," Tòrr said, closing the door quietly behind him.
"It is. Michael's waitin' in the library." Daemon's jaw was tight. "Ye need tae hear this."
He took long enough to pull on a pair of boots before the two walked in silence through the pre-dawn halls, their footsteps echoing off stone. The keep was just beginning to stir, servants moving through corridors with candles, guards changing watch. But the library was empty save for Michael, who stood by the window staring out at the lightening sky.
"Well?" Tòrr demanded, moving to the sideboard to pour himself water. His body still ached with unfulfilled desire from last night, and his mood wasn't improved by being pulled from Liliane's warmth. "What's so urgent it couldnae wait until breakfast?"
"The men ye spotted with Liliane by the cliffs. Michael told me about them. They werenae scouts," Daemon said without preamble.
Tòrr's hand stilled on the pitcher. "What were they?"
"An advance party. Sent tae gather information, find weaknesses in our defenses." Daemon moved to the map table, spreading out several sheets of parchment. "When I was returnin' from Munro lands, we saw them. Same men, same plaids. They were movin' through the forest parallel tae our borders, stayin' just out of sight but clearly watchin' the keep. That is what I was tryin’ tae tell ye at the festival. I didnae mention it after the attack on Liliane as that was our priority. And there havenae been anymore sightings until now."
"How many?"
"At least a dozen that we could count. Could be more hidden deeper in the woods." Michael turned from the window, his expression matching Daemon's grim demeanor. "They're organized, disciplined. This isnae some hasty revenge attempt. This is planned."
Tòrr set down the water untouched, all trace of sleep vanishing as his mind shifted into the cold calculation of strategy. "Ye're certain they're Munro's men?"
"Saw the colors when they moved through a clearin’. Nay question about it." Daemon tapped the map. "They're camped here, about three miles from our eastern border. Close enough tae watch our movements but far enough tae retreat if discovered."
"Fer how long have they been there, dae ye think?"
"Days, at least. Maybe since before the festival." Daemon's voice hardened. "The three that attacked Liliane at the inn? They were probably part of that group. We looked around the camp while they were away and they had supplies fer at least a dozen men, plus there were tracks leadin' back toward Munro lands."
Tòrr's hands clenched into fists on the table. "So there are still men out there. Men sent by Munro tae take me wife."
"Aye. And they'll try again." Michael moved to stand beside him. "The festival was only their first attempt. It failed. But they're still here, still waitin'. Which means Munro's given them orders tae keep tryin' until they succeed."
"Or until we kill them all." Tòrr's voice was flat, dangerous. "Which we will."
"We need tae flush them out," Daemon said. "Root them out of whatever holes they're hidin' in and eliminate the threat entirely. But we need tae dae it carefully. If we just send patrols crashin' through the forest, they'll scatter. Disappear back tae Munro lands and regroup."
"Then we dinnae, we hunt." Tòrr studied the map, his mind already working through possibilities. "How many men did ye bring back with ye?"
"Five. All good trackers, experienced fighters." Daemon met his eyes. "But we need more. We need tae coordinate search parties across all the areas they might be hidin', and we need tae dae itwithout alarmin' the clan or lettin' these bastards ken we're on tae them."
"How dae ye suggest we dae that?" Michael asked. "We cannae exactly send out huntin’ parties without people noticin'."
"We tell them the truth. Partly." Tòrr's voice carried the weight of command now, all traces of the man who'd held Liliane the night before replaced by the laird who'd led his clan for a decade. "We say there've been reports of bandits near the borders. That we're increasin' patrols tae ensure the clan's safety. Nay need tae mention Munro specifically or reveal that they're after Liliane."
"The Council will need tae approve any major deployment," Michael pointed out.
"Then we call a council meetin’. This afternoon." Tòrr's jaw set. "Malcolm and Gregor will complain about the expense, but they'll approve it. They ken the threat Munro poses, even if they dinnae ken the full extent."
"And Liliane?" Daemon asked carefully.
