It troubled her that Amiel remained on their trail no matter what Brian did. It was possible that the few people who caught sight of them as they traveled told Amiel and his men, but it was still a wonder that she and Brian had not shaken free of the man yet. It was almost as if Amiel knew where they might go, that he was not so much following their trail as forging along one he felt sure they would use.
Arianna looked at Brian, about to ask him what he thought, but he signaled her to follow him. As she did so, certain her every move thundered through the trees, she fought the feeling that Brian knew a great deal more than he was telling her. She then recalled that he had slipped away last night to spy upon Amiel but had not told her what, if anything, he had discovered. As soon as they were safely out of the hearing of her enemy, she intended to demand he tell her all he knew.
It was almost sunset by the time Brian signaled for them to halt. Very few words had been passed between them, speed and silence being more important. Arianna no longer believed they had shaken free of Amiel; they had only put a safe distance between them.
“Brian,” she said as she dismounted, “I think Amiel kens what he is looking for.”
“Aye, ye and the laddies.”
He glanced at her and grimaced as he tended to the horses. She stood there staring at him, a frown on her pretty face and her hands fisted on her gently rounded hips. Arianna did not have to openly accuse him of lying with harsh words; her stance said it quite clearly.
“I think ye learned something whilst ye were creeping about last eve,” she said.
“I ne’er creep.”
She ignored him and continued, “And ye failed to tell me what it was. Amiel is too much the spoiled courtier to be able to keep so close on our heels through skill alone. Aye, and too vain to think anyone else might ken what to do better than he, so I doubt he heeds the wisdom of a good tracker.”
“Arianna, let us tend to the horses and ready our meal,” he said. “Then I will tell ye what I have learned.”
She hesitated a moment before nodding in agreement. Her stomach slowly tied itself in knots as she worked, however. He had found out something that he did not want her to know. That stirred up all her fears for the safety of Michel and Adelar. By the time they sat side by side near a low, banked fire, sharing cold meat, bread, and cheese, she was so tense with fear that every bite she took sat like a stone in her stomach.
“The good news is that Amiel and his men are nay as skilled at tracking us as it may appear,” began Brian. “The DeVeaux and Amiel did divide their men into three groups as we thought they would, but they have some way to keep each other informed of whatever is going on or what they have learned.”
“They ken who is helping us.” Arianna was not surprised to hear the fear in her voice.
“One of the groups following one of my brothers apparently did discover that, aye. A certain Lord Ignace. A DeVeau, I suppose.”
“Aye. Youngest brother to the head of the family. Kenned to be clever and vicious, but that appears to be a common trait amongst the DeVeaux. Although”—she frowned in thought—“I think there is another called Ignace. A distant cousin. The name is verra popular amongst the DeVeaux. I rather hope it is that Ignace.”
“Why?”
“Because I think he is just a winemaker, nay a warrior. Nay like the other one, the clever, vicious one.”
“I cannae think they would send a winemaker after us. So it is probably the more weel-kenned one. And, he may be clever and he may be vicious but he is riding o’er land he doesnae ken, trying to gain information from a stubborn people, many of whom have no wish to aid any stranger.”
“The weel-kenned Lord Ignace is rumored to be verra good at getting people to tell him what he wants to learn. Even the king has asked his assistance on occasion. I find it a little frightening that the king, who has dungeons and torturers of his own, would think Lord Ignace more skilled at forcing people to talk. One has to wonder just what he can do that will make people bend to his will when they wouldnae bend to the king’s or his torturers’.”
“True, but he still doesnae ken this land.” Brian ran a hand through his hair. “I but pray that most people who are in his path ken enough to hide when they see him coming. He sent word to Amiel and I find their ability to do that of more concern. We dinnae e’en ken what the others are doing, nor they us, and our only plan is to get behind some sturdy walls as soon as we can.”
“A verra good plan.”
He reached over and took her hand in his. “Your lads will be safe, Arianna. Ye must trust me in this. No one, nay matter how clever or vicious, can catch a MacFingal who doesnae wish to be caught. Aye, we prefer to fight but we learned quickly that ’tis often best to flee a fight, at least until ye can choose the ground ye want to fight it on.”
Arianna took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she struggled to push aside her fear. “Do ye think Michel and Adelar are already behind the walls of Scarglas?”
“Adelar most certainly. Michel may be, but it all depends on how twisted a route Nat had to take. I would not be surprised to learn that the DeVeaux have lost a few men, either.”
“But, if they ken we dinnae have the boys, why are they still following us?”
“For ye.” He sighed and put his arm around her shoulders when she paled. “They still believe that capturing one of ye will pull the others into their hands.”
“I would ne’er hand them my boys,” she said as she leaned against him, attempting to take some of the strength and confidence he showed into her heart and blood.
“I ken it but that doesnae mean they do. Amiel also believes that they need but capture one of us, wave a full purse beneath our noses, and we will give him ye and the lads.”
“Nay, ye would ne’er do that.”
The firmness of the belief behind her words warmed him. Brian knew the reputation of his clan was slowly improving but he also knew that many still scorned them as being no more than a pack of rutting fools. Arianna had faith in his strengths, in his ability to keep her and the boys safe, and he reveled in that faith. Too few offered it to one of his family.
