She would make sure of it.
Chapter 23
Duncan reined Glendragon to a halt and dismounted near the edge of the pine copse. Kinnon and Robert followed his lead, tethering their mounts to nearby branches.
“What news from the men?”
“My scouts have not returned yet,” Robert answered.
“Nor mine,” Kinnon said. “Though I saw a glimpse of Ewen through the trees not far back. They should be meeting with us here shortly.”
Duncan nodded. “It will be none too soon. Morgana’s path leads straight through this bit of woodland, and beyond it rest the ruins of Carlisle. She’s chosen a noble place to hide herself and any followers she may have gathered.” He uncorked his water pouch, tipping his head for a long draught before giving the skin to Kinnon. “We’ll remain here long enough to make final plans, but I want to move against her before the sun reaches its peak.”
Kinnon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tossed the water sack to Robert. “The men will welcome an hour’s rest. It is wise to hold off the attack until then.”
Duncan looked around, searching the barren woodland for any sign of life. He found none. Only the wind, wailing its forlorn song through the black, wet trees. Peering straight ahead, he imagined that he could already see the ruin where Morgana was hiding, concealed there like a rat in a trap. He wouldn’t allow himself to think too deeply on Aileana and her condition—or even whether or not she was still alive. He couldn’t; not if he wanted to be able to concentrate on what needed to be done next. He burned with a need to finish this, to bring Morgana to justice, but he knew that he couldn’t rush. They needed a strategy. He would not fail in bringing the witch down this time, not if his very life depended on it.
He glanced at Kinnon. “The attack must be undertaken secretly. Once we’re inside you must find Aileana. I will lead another group to overpower Morgana and Colin. After she’s cornered, I’ll give her the option of surrender.”
A scowl darkened his cousin’s face. “And if she refuses?”
“Then I will be compelled to try to take her by force—though I will have to do what I can to prevent her death.”
“Why? What care we if Morgana MacDonell dies in the fighting that’s to come? Her death is our only hope for true justice,” Kinnon scoffed.
“Aye, and yet it will not be at my hand if I can help it. We’ll find our satisfaction by bringing her back to face the Council for her reckoning.”
Robert had remained quiet throughout the exchange. Now he stepped forward, murmuring, “MacRae, I’ve something to say to you. Alone.”
Duncan nodded, and Kinnon cast a cautious glance at them before moving away to check their horses. When they stood apart, Robert spoke again. “I want to give you my thanks.”
Surprise tingled through Duncan. “Thanks? It’s strange to hear you say it, considering what Kinnon and I were just discussing.”
Robert’s expression twisted with his clearly conflicting feelings as he admitted, “I’ll not pretend that this has been easy, but I can see that it is the just thing to do. Morgana has hurt and coerced too many, including even Aileana, it seems.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “And so I’m thanking you for the restraint you’ve shown. Knowing what happened those years ago, most men wouldn’t blame you if you charged into that ruin and took her life without blinking. I’m grateful that you’ve chosen to do this with honor—with mercy, even.”
Duncan’s jaw tightened. “I’ve no mercy where Morgana is concerned, MacDonell, make no mistake. But I’ll not risk losing a drop of Aileana’s blood—or her respect—because of Morgana if I can help it.”
“Whatever your reasons, I’m thankful.”
Their gazes connected for an instant, and Duncan nodded before his attention was drawn away by the activity occurring near the horses. Some of the men had returned, and they looked none too happy as they gestured and talked with Kinnon. Robert followed close behind as Duncan approached the group.
“What is it? What news?”
Gil stood with his arms folded across his chest, a little behind Ewen, whose face was flushed and strained.
“A message was tied to an arrow and shot into the flank of Hamish’s horse.” Ewen glanced away and shifted uneasily. “It demands that a single messenger from our group be sent, unarmed, to the gates of the ruin to receive further information concerning Aileana.”
Duncan fisted his hands and burst into motion, pacing toward the edge of the clearing to look at the castle ruin, just visible through the trees.
“Are you going to comply with the demand?” Kinnon asked, his face pale. “Any message from the witch cannot be trusted. We cannot even know for certain that Aileana is there.”
“And yet I have little choice,” Duncan answered grimly. “We’ll do as she asks. Perhaps we can strike a deal with her—learn what she wants. We’ll sort out the rest of it later.”
“I’ll go as messenger,” Gil offered. His chest expanded in anticipation of the important task, and he fixed his gaze on Duncan with an intensity that made him look older than his eighteen years.
Kinnon gestured toward the ruin. “Hold for a minute, Gil. How far do you think to bend in bargaining with Morgana, Duncan?”
Duncan’s heart thudded heavy and slow in his chest, and he felt an expansion of the burning sensation that had lodged in his gut ever since he’d first realized Aileana was in danger. “I’m willing to do anything, Kinnon, including letting Morgana go for now, to prevent Aileana coming to harm. I do not like it, but it is what I must do.”
