He wouldn’t focus on it. He couldn’t. The only thing that mattered now was getting Eithne back to the MacDonnell keep and back to her sister. The only way to honor Killian’s memory was to keep his sisters safe.
Me feelings dinnae matter. She’ll get over me. She’ll marry some laird, and she’ll be happy.
And he? Well, Ivor would do what he’d always done in his life. He’d survive, just like he’d survived the loss of his parents, just like he’d survived Iona.
He wondered if Killian had met Iona now in heaven. He hoped they were both warm and safe and happy there. Killian would look after Iona, and he would look after Eithne and Myrna. He’d make sure the sisters were together again. That was his duty now, and nothing else mattered except that. He owed it to Killian and to Eithne as well.
Eithne shifted in his arms, her body pressed against his chest. Ivor sighed and held her close, enjoying her warmth and her scent. Yes, he’d protect her. He’d see her home. She’d be safe and alive and happy.
And for Ivor, lonely as he’d be, that would be enough.
Chapter Thirteen
The Conqueror
Rory MacDuff was not happy. In fact, he was the furthest thing from happy that he’d ever been in his six and twenty years of life. His men were thoroughly incompetent, and he didn’t have time to find others.
Perhaps I shouldnae have slaughtered all of the men of Kinnear. I could have kept some of them for me own army.
He’d have to punish his own soldiers anyway. They had failed him not once but several times. First of all, they’d lost Eithne– the great army of MacDuff, defeated by one interfering mercenary! They’d let her get away, and not only that, but they’d let her find help, too.
The door to his throne room opened, and the nervous, injured captain of the band he’d sent after her entered the room. Rory knew that Captain Reilly lost at least two of his men on this journey, and it seemed he’d broken an arm.
He’ll have broken more than that when I’m through with him.
“Report,” Rory said crisply.
He watched Reilly’s eyes rove the room and waited for the comment. Many had criticized Rory for his taste in décor – for how he set up his keep more like a palace and his chair more like a throne. As far as he was concerned, though, he was as grand as any king. Anyone who dared to disagree could take it out on the end of his sword.
“Reilly,” he said warningly.
“Aye, me Laird,” the captain said, his attention snapping back to the Laird immediately. Rory smiled. In his fifties or so, Reilly was an older man who had been around since long before Rory’s father died. Many of the men had refused to bow to the new Laird MacDuff, who had only been twenty at the time. Reilly had been one of the few to remain loyal.
And that’s why he lived when I put all of his fellow captains to the sword. I dinnae tolerate dissidence in me ranks.
“Well,” Reilly said, and Rory was pleased to hear a slight shake in the man’s voice. He liked it when they were scared. It was the best way to keep them in line. “We found the lassie on the road as ye said. She’s traveling with a big mercenary. We think he might be a Lowlander. Ivor something.”
“Ivor Sinclair, aye, I ken him,” Rory replied laconically. He sounded relaxed, but truthfully, he was furious. Ivor was no Lowlander. He had known Killian Kinnear and his strange traveling friend when he was younger. He had sometimes spent time with them, but as he got older, the other boys had refused to entertain his darker urges and shut him out.
And look at us now, eh? Killian dead in the ground by my command, and Ivor, a homeless wanderer.
The thought pleased him, and he nodded at Reilly to go on. Reilly swallowed and said, “Well, we decided to ambush them after they stopped for a night at one of the taverns on the way. Ye ken how elite me men were; we didnae think taking them on would be a problem.”
“And yet clearly it was,” Rory replied. Though his tone was bored, he wore a smile like a crocodile ready to strike. “Where is she?”
“I…they escaped, Me Laird,” Reilly said, bowing his head. “The mercenary had her run off into the woods and took all me men alone. We were nae expecting him to be so strong. We’d only seen his stealth before.”
“Ye couldnae overcome him?” Rory asked, raising an eyebrow.
Reilly visibly shook. “We did eventually after he’d downed a couple of me men. But then the lassie…”
Rory blinked. Did he meanEithne?Quiet, submissive little Eithne, who was to be his wife? Surely not. “The lassie what?”
“She came out of the wood like a queen from a faerie tale,” Reilly said in a quiet voice that was almost a whisper. “Me Laird, I’ve never seen a lass like her. She aimed a bow that she must have taken from the horse, and she shot with an unnatural aim. Me man got hit, the mercenary got free, and the pair of them disappeared.”
Rory could barely believe what he was hearing. “So ye and yer men are dead or injured, and Eithne and this mercenary escape free and unscathed?”
“Nay,” Reilly said quickly. “Nay, it wasnae like that. Sinclair was wounded badly. I wouldnae be surprised if infection set in. She probably had to bury him shortly after their daring escape.”
