Eithne couldn’t help but agree. She followed Myrna inside, walking her little sister to her bedroom before heading to her own. In her room, she arranged her pillow so that she could lean her back against it like she had company once more.
Myrna was right. There was no point in looking for trouble.
Eithne was safe – finally safe. She’d told her uncle about Callum and how Rory’s men had likely murdered the poor boy’s family. She’d said to him that Rory would probably attack. It was time, at last, to allow herself to relax and to start living again. Her life with Ivor had been but a glimpse into an exciting world that did not belong to her.
Me faither is dead, but I am still the daughter of a Laird.
She must make more of an effort for the sake of her uncle. Perhaps she’d even consent to wed Gregor if it made Laird MacDonnell happy, though, of course, she had no wish to do so. What did it matter, though? It wasn’t as though she would ever marry for love.
Love was for a girl lost in the woods, shooting bows and swimming in rivers with a protective lover by her side. Eithne was not that girl – and it was time to stop pretending that she was.
“Be safe, Ivor,” she said out loud, though, of course, she had no idea where he was now. “Be safe, and love, and be happy.”
She closed her eyes, imagining his kind eyes and his gentle smile that turned his imposing face into a source of comfort. She imagined his soft hair and how his calloused hands had felt against her skin. She pictured the taste of his lips on her own, the love she’d felt for him flowing through her entire body.
And then she opened her eyes and let it go. “Goodbye, Ivor,” she whispered into the night. “Goodbye forever.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Separation
Ivor and Callum sat in a tavern eating breakfast. At the same time, Mossie eagerly chewed on a bone the tavern woman had given to him. It was a strange feeling, being with his boy. For Ivor, it was like being on the road with Iona once again – except this time, Ivor was an adult, capable of looking after them both.
I’m glad I kept him with me. It’s a distraction from the ache in me heart where Eithne should be.
“Ivor, will we really go all the way to the Lowlands?” Callum asked excitedly. “I’ve never been to the cities before. What’s it like there?”
“Loud and busy,” Ivor replied with a grunt. Callum waited, then Ivor relented and smiled. “I’ve got a wee house down in Glasgow Town. We’ll go there until I find out where we’re off to next.”
“So, I can really travel with ye?” Callum asked excitedly. “Ye’ll take me on jobs?”
“God help me, but aye, if it’s safe enough,” Ivor told him. The smile on the boy’s face warmed him, but he couldn’t help but be nervous. What if he messed up this attempt at family just as much as he’d destroyed his last one? “I’ll keep ye with me as long as ye like, just like I promised.”
Callum started to chatter excitedly about all the places he’d like to visit, and Ivor half-listened, nodding with polite enthusiasm whenever the situation seemed to call for it. With the rest of his attention, he was scanning the conversations going around them in the tavern. It wasn’t that he expected to find anything, but old habits tend to endure, and it was always better to be safe than sorry.
“…MacDonnell,” he caught the muttered sound of one man saying. A chill ran through him, and he turned his attention in that direction, trying his best not to be too obvious.
“A couple of days north,” the stranger’s companion said. There were five of them at the table in all, plus another six or seven who looked to be members of their group at the tables surrounding them. “I hear the Kinnear girl got there safely, just like she was supposed to.”
“She did,” another voice said from the table across from them. Ivor looked at this young man from the corner of his eye and knew him from somewhere, but he couldn’t place where. “Which is why I’ve come down to get ye, just like we agreed. It’s time soon enough. We need to go now if we’re to reach MacDonnell before the Sabbath.”
What business do they have with Clan MacDonnell? What does Eithne have to do with it? And who is that third man?
Too many questions were spinning in Ivor’s head for him to be able to make sense of any of them, but his instincts were suddenly on fire. Something waswronghere, something he knew in his primal self would require his intervention to prevent. Of course, he could easily be acting paranoid – but a man did not serve as a mercenary from the age of ten without learning to trust his instincts.
One by one, as if trying not to draw too much notice, the group of men began to leave the tavern. By the time they had dwindled down to one, Ivor had made a decision. “Come, Callum,” he said quietly. “Bring the pup. We have to go north again.”
“What?” Callum asked, stunned. “But I thought we were gonnae go to Glasgow.”
Ivor didn’t answer. He paid the barmaid quickly then scooped the dog up in one arm. He took Callum’s hand, pulling him outside to where their horse waited. Just ahead, he could see the riders as they disappeared into the forests.
“We need to follow those men,” he told Callum once he had them all positioned in place on their own horse. “Hold tight. Something bad is happening, and we’re gonnae stop it.”
* * *
Ivor was used to riding his horse hard, and Aibreann, in turn, was more than capable of it as she ran to keep up with their targets. What Ivor hadn’t counted on, though, was how quickly Callum would grow exhausted. The boy was trying his best to keep his eyes open as they flew along the road, but more than once, Ivor had to nudge him awake.
As they approached Lingow, he realized the truth. He couldn’t take Callum with him. Right now, pursuing the men at a safe distance, it was fine – but what about if it turned into a battle? He couldn’t take a child into that.
