“No. Come.” He took Laren by the hand. “They can see your fire from the fortress. I’ll bring you to another shelter where you’ll be safe.”
“I have to wait here,” Laren argued. She pulled her hand free. Although it was growing colder without a fire, she could huddle among the fallen leaves if she had to. Then another alarming thought occurred to her. “Does Lady Harkirk know that I am here?”
The boy shook his head. “I came on my own. I wanted to see what the fire was.”
“Who are you?” Laren asked. “You’re not English. Are you one of Harkirk’s prisoners?”
The child shrugged. “Not any more. She helped me hide.”
Given the boy’s age, Laren was glad of it. No young child should be forced to labor alongside adults. “Where do you live, then? Where are your parents?”
The boy didn’t answer, and Laren suspected they were dead. When the child started to disappear into the trees, she called out, “Wait. Don’t go, yet.”
“I have to leave. If you come with me, I promise you’ll be safe. But the soldiers are coming. They saw your fire.”
Laren didn’t know what to do. Although she’d believed the fire Callum had built would not be visible from behind the stones, clearly the boy had seen it. If he’d found her, the soldiers could, too.
“Where are you going?” she asked, following the boy into the trees.
“Come with me and I’ll show you.”
She wondered if it was a mistake to follow the boy. It could be a ploy of some kind, to bring her into captivity without a fight. Another thought occurred to her, one that deepened her fear. “Did you . . . see any other children at Harkirk’s fortress? A young girl, almost two years of age?”
The boy nodded. “Lady Harkirk has her. She’s taking care of her.”
All the blood seemed to rush to her head, and Laren leaned up against a tree. Thank God. Adaira was alive. Hot tears rushed to her eyes, and she admitted, “The child is my daughter. I need to bring her back. Is she inside the fortress?”
“She is.” The boy offered his hand to her. “If you come with me, I’ll take you to my shelter. Lady Harkirk will come in the morning and you can ask her about your daughter.” There was a slight note of regret in the boy’s voice, as if he were thinking of his own family.
Laren hesitated, torn between obeying Alex and learning more about Adaira. The night air was growing colder and she knew the dangers of sleeping without a fire to keep warm. The lack of shelter would make it a painful night.
“I’ll go with you,” she agreed at last. If there was any chance of learning about Adaira, she had to take it. “But I’ll need to return before morning.” She didn’t know if Alex would return, but she wanted to be there if he did.
The boy held out his hand and she followed him down the hillside.
“You,”orderedavoice.“Take your spear and join the others.” The captain gestured toward a group of a half dozen men who were leaving the fortress.
Alex waited for further information, and the English soldier added, “One of the men saw a fire on the hillside. Find out who was trespassing.”
He bowed his head, letting nothing betray his features. Would Callum have been foolish enough to light a fire? Aye, it was freezing outside, but he couldn’t think of any reason why his brother would do such a thing. Unless it was meant as a signal of some sort.
Inwardly, he cursed, reaching for a torch. Since he was dressed in chainmail, Callum wouldn’t know it was him in the darkness. His brother might unleash a storm of arrows before they ever reached the hillside.
“You won’t be needing that,” one of the others said, seizing the torch from his grasp.
Alex thought about arguing but then reconsidered. He needed to maintain the disguise for now. Better to drop back and disappear into the trees as soon as he had the chance.
The men traveled in pairs and Alex made certain he was in the last group. When he started to move away, the soldier on his right followed. “Where are you going?”
“I thought I heard a noise coming from this side,” Alex said. “I’ll go and have a look.”
“We stay together,” the man argued. “It’s safer.”
But when Callum’s arrow struck the first soldier, Alex tore off his helmet and ran out of his brother’s range. The wind was bitter, ripping through his skin with the cold. He dived for cover and hurriedly stripped off the chainmail armor, wearing only his trews and a light tunic.
It was freezing outside, but he bit back the discomfort and kept to the trees as the soldiers charged forward.
“Callum, hold your arrows!” he shouted in Gaelic, letting his brother hear his voice. The arrows stopped abruptly, and Alex suddenly realized that his brother was nowhere near the camp where he’d left him.
