The chief’s son, Lachlan, poked his head from his hiding place with a frown. “How did you ken I was there?” He pointed at Tevin. “Who is he?”
“Cousin.” Munn chose to ignore the first question. He wasn’t about to share secrets with the lad. “Here for a visit.”
Lachlan approached Tevin, and each lad studied the other.
The young MacLachlan lad fisted hands on hips. A mere couple of summers older than Tevin, thebairnswere asdifferent as night and day. Like his mother, Lachlan possessed the straight black hair and near purple eyes of his maternal Lamont forebears. Whereas Tevin, like his father, had the blond curls and light blue eyes of the majority of MacEwens, cousins to the MacLachlans.
At the sound of boots crunching gravel, Munn glanced away from the lads. Archibald strode along the path toward them, his gaze landing on his son with censure. “Your ma is searching the keep for you.” He shifted attention to Munn and his charge, and raised a questioning brow. “Who have you brought to us?”
“Stephen’s son, Tevin.” Munn took a deep breath and huffed; answering so many questions was becoming a bore. “Found thebairnon theSithichean Sluaigh. Alone.”
“Indeed.” The chief squatted in front of Tevin, lowered to the lad’s height, and reached out an arm. “Welcome to Castle Lachlan, lad. I am—”
“I know who you are.” Tevin grasped the offered arm as a warrior would, and shook. “You’re Allison’s Uncle Archie. You look just like Uncle Patrick.”
Such a cleverbairn. Munn rolled his eyes.
“Ach, well, we are twins, which in the same way as Patrick makes me your uncle, too.” Archibald grinned. “What brings you to our gates?”
“He claims—”
“Let the lad answer, wee man.”
Munn pursed his lips at the setdown, but kept his own counsel.
Tevin scraped a foot over the pebbles, his gaze following its path. Then he looked directly at Archibald and with all seriousness said, “I’m on a quest to slay a dragon.”
“A noble endeavor…”
Thebairnshot a triumphant smirk at Munn.
“Howbeit, I fear dragons nae longer exist,” Archibald continued, deflating the lad’s enthusiasm. “Perhaps you might tell me how you came to be here.”
Tevin’s shoulders sagged. “This isn’t ancient Scotland?”
“I told you it was not,” Munn interjected.
“Whist,brùnaidh!” the chief scolded for no good reason.
“Allison told us the faerie hill would take us to the land of dragons in ancient Scotland,” Tevin said.
Lachlan edged closer, eyes wide, curiosity piqued.
“Malcolm said I had to go alone ’cause I need to prove I’m a man,” Stephen’s son continued.
Archibald’s angry gaze shot to Munn, though he quickly blanked his features more than likely for the lad’s sake.
Tevin sniffled as if holding back tears. “I didn’t want to go by myself, but he pushed me onto the hill. Then the tiny faeries came and—”
The warning horn sounded a series of short blasts.
“Ach, the hunting party returns.” Archibald stood. “Lachlan, take our guest to the kitchen and ask cook for bread with honey. Our lad here must be hungry from his journey.”
“Come on.” More curious than prudent, Lach waved an arm toward the keep, and Tevin followed, slowing to glance back once then hurrying to catch up to the older lad.
Archibald watched the twobairnsscamper up the path to the courtyard before turning a scowl on Munn. “Is the Malcolm of which he spoke Maclay’s son?”
“Aye.”
