Her hands fell from his when she covered her mouth in surprise. “Nae, you must chart a course to return then, Aonghus. One of them had to be present the last eve when I heard Sturan’s voice state‘Brother’on the other side of the tree we had taken refuge behind. Do not waste a moment more with me. I may find my way unto Stirling…”
“Nae.” The word carried a weight of granite. “I will see you safely to Stirling then return for the three traitors, agreed?”
Not too sure on that one, MacCade. She began striding quicker beside his brisk pace.There may be another way.“Aye, there is a chance he may come to you, MacCade. As declared, he was present when you shielded me behind that pine. Sturan seeks the favor from Håkonsson above all else in this moment, lending an air to aid Lord Kollungr in his search for me.” She paused. “My dagger will be ready.”
“Cluaran, is there any other wish you seek in way of battle weaponry?”
Everything but a catapult, lad.“Simply the bow we spoke upon.” Her words were a sigh from eagerness.
He shook his head slightly. “Keirah, I will seek the bowyer as promised; however, for the training for archery itself we shall need another’s talents. I do not hold a terribly natural feel for the weapon.”
“Aye, you are too grand in size.” The words left her mouth before they cleared her mind in consideration. Oh, raging hell, had she just inadvertently called him brawny? Why was she behaving like a fresh-faced lassie each time he looked at her intently?Stay the course! Dammit!
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Keirah, was I imagining it or was a compliment just ushered into that remark?”
Her eyes quickly re-fixed on the forested shadows they entered. “Aye,” she peeped. There it was again. Hell, why did she feel suddenly like a wee lass of ten and one?
He chuckled. Aye, she took naturally to the sound belonging to his laughter. There was a rough charm about him. Being he looked like a score in age, why wasn’t he a warrior for his own clan? She’d witnessed the ease with which he had dispatched Svørn, a Northman she had seen lay many foes to the end of his blade. She proceeded carefully on the topic.
“Aonghus?”
“Aye?”
“We have spoken upon the MacNaller clansmen.” Her softest tone sounded. “May I be so bold as to inquire about your clan?”
“Cluaran, I would prefer to keep this discussion for a later moment.”
She met his gaze; it had turned guarded. “Pardon, I did not mean to tread onto a sour emotion. However, I do find times to speak…”
“Another time.” He snarled the words at her.
She bit her lip and kept silent.There was the beast.
Chapter 6
Hell!He ran his hand through his hair nervously. If he could kick his infernal temper into the stream they walked by, he would. He looked over to find her gaze had taken a keen interest down at the pine needles they strode over.Apologize, overgrown Scottish arse.
“Keirah, please forgive my damn temper. You must understand I have a very complicated past regarding my clan.” He paused. Telling her would take her onto the path where every other lassie or lady or lover had gone before they bolted away from him after hearing about his past. Why did sharing this with her seem more formidable than any other he had encountered before? Perhaps it was the admiration shown in her gaze each time they had a quiet moment since he taught her the ways with the blade.Simply tell her.It was better to cut the tether between them now rather than let it grow stronger. “Cluaran, I was cast out by my clan upon the chief’s order, who is also my elder brother.”
Her eyes turned wide. There was the first look which always appeared before a lass curled her lip in disgust or called him a bastard. His stomach twisted like the gnarled branch next to them.
“Aonghus, it must have been devastating,” she replied, heartfelt.
His jaw dropped. Wait…how was this reaction never seen before from a lass possible? She spoke in kindness rather than bitterness or mockery or snobbery or…ah, hell, the list was so long.
“Aye, Keirah, there was a test of loyalty which came to pass, and in his eyes I failed. Thus, the result we speak upon this eve…” His words trailed off. What was that rustling the trees in the far distance?
“Aonghus?” she whispered. “Northmen?” The word was a whimper.
He drew the sword from the scabbard on his back. Shite, if only he still had Vengeance for the other palm. He went for the second dagger from the waist strap. Leaning close to her ear, an auburn curl brushed his lips.
“I am uncertain,” he advised. He would not make the same mistake by leaving her. “You remain directly behind me then move when I move, agreed?”
“Aye.” Her gaze turned harder than a spark belonging to determination. He normally would have smiled at her spirit, but then the rippling sound became louder hidden behind the thicket.
***
The claws from fright ripped at her stomach. Why wasn’t she heaving? He was the cause for the blanket of warm fuzzy calm draped over the claws. She leaned closer as he took the lead.
