And whether Campbell's plan could move fast enough to counter whatever MacDonald was scheming.
Because when the enemy started moving first, ye were already behind.
And being behind in this game meant being dead.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
"Where are we goin'?" she asked for the third time since they'd left.
The morning air was crisp and clean as Tòrr guided his horse along the narrow path leading away from the keep. Liliane sat in front of him, her back pressed against his chest, a small basket of food secured to the saddle beside them. In his other hand, he carried a leather satchel that she'd seen him fill with books from the library.
"Somewhere quiet. Where we can talk without interruptions." His breath was warm against her ear. "And where ye can finally relax without worryin' about every person who walks past."
"I'm nae worried."
"Ye are. Ye've been tense as a drawn bowstring since yesterday." His arm tightened around her waist. "So I'm takin' ye somewhere peaceful. Just fer a few hours. We’ll be very careful."
Her first instinct was to argue and point out that there were still threats lurking in the forests, still dangers everywhere. But the warmth of him at her back and the steady rhythm of the horse beneath them made her objections fade. When was the last time she'd simply... existed? Without fear or planning or constant vigilance?
She couldn't remember.
They rode in comfortable silence until the trees opened up to reveal the same cliff overlooking the loch where he'd taken her before. But this time, instead of stopping at the viewpoint, he guided the horse down a narrow trail she hadn't noticed, winding along the cliff face until they reached a small clearing nestled between rocks and overlooking the water.
"Here," he said, dismounting and reaching up to help her down. "Private, peaceful. And close enough that we can return quickly if needed."
"It's beautiful." She turned slowly, taking in the view—the loch spread out below them like hammered silver, mountains rising in the distance, the sky so blue it hurt to look at.
He settled onto the blanket and patted the space beside him. "Come. Sit. We've got fresh bread, cheese, some of that honey ye like. And books, if ye want tae read."
"What kind of books?" She sat, tucking her skirts around her legs.
"Poetry. History. A medical text I thought might interest ye." He pulled them from the satchel one by one. "Take yer pick."
She reached for the medical text immediately, her fingers reverent on the worn leather. "I've never seen this one before."
"It's from me maither's collection. She was always collectin' texts about healin'." His voice softened. "I thought ye might appreciate it."
"I dae. More than ye ken." She opened it carefully, her eyes scanning the neat script. Then she looked up at him. "Thank ye. Fer this. Fer all of it."
"Ye're welcome." He leaned back on his elbows, his long legs stretched out before him. "Now read. Relax. Pretend fer just a few hours that the world isnae fallin' apart around us."
So she did. The pages crackled softly as she turned them, her finger tracing lines of text about yarrow for wounds and willow bark for pain.
"Listen tae this," she said after a while, her voice animated. "It says here that feverfew can prevent headaches if taken regularly, nae just treat them after they start. I've never heard of using it that way."
Tòrr shifted closer, peering at the page. "How much would ye need tae take?"
"A few fresh leaves daily, or dried in tea." She looked up at him. "Dae ye get headaches often?"
"Sometimes. After long days of trainin'." He reached past her to turn back a page. "What about this one? Comfrey?"
"Good fer broken bones and wounds, but..." She hesitated, running her finger down the margin notes. "Yer maither wrote here that it shouldnae be used on deep puncture wounds. It can heal the surface too quickly and trap infection inside."
"She learned that the hard way." His voice went quiet. "After that, she was careful tae note every caution she discovered."
Liliane traced the careful script with reverence. "She was wise."
They fell back into comfortable silence, Liliane reading while Tòrr lay back fully, one arm behind his head, watching clouds drift across the sky. The sun climbed higher, and she felt its warmth seep into her shoulders, loosening muscles she hadn't realized were tight.
