His brothers stood next to their own horses, which were already saddled and ready.
“What are ye doing?” he asked.
“We thought ye might do something like this,” Callum said. “We cannae let ye go alone.”
“This isna yer fight. It’s mine,” Jamie said, standing up to his big brother.
“We’re going with ye, laddie,” Malcolm said. “And if we’re going to a war, ye’ll need this.” He handed him his claymore still in the scabbard.
Jamie took it from him, looking over both his brothers. They each had their own claymore strapped to their side, ready for battle.
“I can handle them myself,” Jamie said as he placed the belt around his waist and tightened it.
“Och, can ye now?” Callum said with a smirk.
“Have ye faced real battle, lad?” Malcolm teased.
He was aware Malcolm was the warrior and Callum was battle hardened. But he wasn’t soft, himself. He may not have faced a real battle, as his brother put it, but he was ready and willing to fight. He’d faced the MacDonalds alone when he was capturedand injured. He’d made his way back to Dundale on a stolen horse.
“Leave off, brother,” Callum said. Then to him, “Are ye ready, lad?”
“Aye,” Jamie said as he headed for the stall that housed his horse. He was pleased to see it was already saddled and ready to go.
“All right, then,” Callum said. “Let’s get yer bonnie lass back.”
*
The jostling ofthe horse jarred her as they rode at breakneck speed away from Dundale castle. The morning air was cold and brisk and bit through her woolen gown. She hadn’t a cloak and she shivered next to the man who was her captor.
Brianna had no choice but to wrap her arms around John MacDonald’s thick waist. He seemed to enjoy it while she hated every second of it. The only perk was his body was warm. But not warm enough to keep her from shivering.
She suspected most of her shivering was from the fear and apprehension swamping her, though. She wasn’t sure what would happen to her once they discovered she didn’t have the keystone. It had been an impulse handing it off to Jamie and one that turned out to be the right decision. They had her, but they didn’t have the keystone.
It was a short ride—no more than an hour. Ahead, someone shouted a command to come to a halt. Her rider pulled in the reins of his mount and slowed to a stop. She dared to peek over his shoulder.
Ahead were castle ruins perched on a craggy hill. Behind it, the glistening sea.
When they arrived, the company of men set about building a camp.
Her heart leapt to her throat as she stared at the ruins. She recognized it. This was the castle from her vision with the Triple Goddess and Morrogh MacDonald. They’d brought her to the place where it allbegan, where the MacDonald line was cursed.
John slid off the horse, then turned to her, holding his arms up to her with a grin on his face she despised. Ignoring him, she swung her leg over and dismounted without his help. Surprise followed by annoyance flickered over his features before he grasped her by the arm and dragged her away toward Rory MacDonald and flanked by Bruce.
In his hand, Rory held the great axe. The blade shimmered with its magic and she worried she was about to witness him opening the portal to the Realm of Chaos. She kept her gaze fixed on him, though, as they neared. They halted in front of him. He looked her over with a sharp, critical eye.
“’Tis time to give me what I want, lass,” he said.
Her captor handed her off to him. He took hold of her, his fingers biting into her upper arm as he dragged her toward the slope leading up to the castle ruins. Bruce and John both fell in step behind them. Her heart drummed in her chest with every step. And with every step as they neared, her stomach twisted tighter and tighter into a knot.
“Do ye ken this place, lass?” Rory asked.
She pressed her lips into a thin line, remaining silent.
“’Tis where it began and where it will end.”
He dragged her to the top of the slope where it flattened out, leading her through the crumbling stone walls. No roof connected them, leaving it open to the fading light in the indigo sky. She noticed the low stone—a round shape near the back of the ruins that stuck up out the ground about a foot. It had a flat top, as though well worn from wind and time. It seemed an odd place for it.
Here, within the open walls, the wind whipped through her, tangling her hair and chilling her to the bone. He gave her a shove forward. She stumbled a few steps, managing to keep her balance and turned to face the three expectant faces of the men.
