Clare scampered away like a naked, frightened rabbit, stopping only to grab her dress from the floor. She pulled it over her head then hurried away, disappearing through the door.
“And ye, soldier, ken if me bride is lost to me once again, I’ll haveallof yer heads, ye hear me?” he roared.
The door slammed behind the two retreating figures, and Rory stopped, breathing heavily. He wanted to kill someone or something, to give himself a direction for his anger, but instead, he forced himself to think.
Eithne and her useless sister had been on the way here. Had young MacDonnell had a change of heart and gone back to his father? No. The boy had no morals; he’d killed his own brother during the attack, after all. That was what made Walter MacDonnell such a useful pawn.
Perhaps they were just dawdling. Maybe there was still hope. But just in case, Rory would set up an incentive. He would play the part of the grieving, concerned Laird, sending out posters offering a prize for Eithne’s safe return to his side. A big enough sum, and any man would be willing to betray her.
Who kens? Maybe the mercenary himself will value her less than he does gold, and he’ll come. Then I can be rid of him once and for all.
* * *
Eithne looked at her sleeping sister, curled up next to Jonah, and sighed. Ivor was off somewhere catching them breakfast. The four of them had decided to take a few days to recover. They’d stolen the dead men’s supplies and had been living in the forest, careful to stay out of the way of anyone who might see them and spread the word in Rory’s direction.
And when we get to Fife, I’ll kill him.
Eithne knew that Ivor didn’t like the plan, but he’d support her anyway. He just wanted her safe; she knew that and loved him for it – but the time for safety was gone. Rory MacDuff had killed her family, corrupted her cousin, threatened her uncle, and who knew what other crimes lay at his feet?
There was no other choice and no other way. Rory would die, and Eithne would be the one to do it. But to do so, she was going to have to allow herself to be a prisoner once more.
One last time,she told herself, swallowing away the distaste that rose like acid in her mouth.One final imprisonment, and then I’ll be free.
But how would they get there? It was true that they could use Jonah – but nobody would believe that he had survived against Ivor when nobody else had. To make it work, they’d have to convince Rory somehow that Jonah had a secret weapon on his side the whole time.
Jonah’s eyes snapped open, and he sat up. He’d woken up in the exact same abrupt way every day since the rescue. The first thing he did was look around for Myrna, and he only seemed to relax when he saw that she was asleep and safe next to him. He let out a shaky breath, then turned to Eithne.
“A good morning to ye,” Eithne told him. “Ivor’s gone to get breakfast. I was just thinking about the plan or the lack of it.”
“Aye,” Jonah mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Are ye sure ye’ll be able to do it? Killing a man…it isnae easy, nae matter what the soldiers might make ye think.” He glanced at Myrna. “Just ask yer sister. She’s still nae over what she had to do to Walter.”
Eithne shrugged. “It doesnae have to be easy. And besides, Rory MacDuff hardly counts as human. Slaying him will be a mercy to everyone.”
Jonah gave her a grim nod, and the conversation was over. She still found herself wary around him – after all, he had lied to them all. However, she trusted him because Ivor did. And she knew Myrna loved him. That didn’t mean she needed to be able to make small talk with him.
Perhaps that will come with time.
Myrna woke a little later. The two sisters made a fire, and a few moments after it was burning hot, there was a rustling in the trees. Ivor emerged with a few already-dressed rabbits on strings over his back.
Eithne smiled in greeting, but Ivor’s return smile was more faded than usual. He gave the meat to the women and had a quiet word with Jonah.
While Myrna and Eithne cooked, Ivor returned to the fireside but didn’t say very much. He responded when Eithne spoke to him directly, but his answers were mostly one-note. He was always a little taciturn, of course, but this…this was something else.
“What’s the matter?” Eithne eventually asked when she realized he wasn’t going to say without any prompting. “Did someone see ye?”
“Nay,” Ivor replied. “Nay, naught like that. I…” he hesitated, then sighed. “Och, ye’ll ken soon enough. I found something, and it’s making our time limited by quite a bit.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to her.
Eithne passed the spit to Myrna and smoothed the paper out flat. She was stunned when she saw a very lifelike drawing of her own self, staring back at her.
She read the poster quickly. It spoke of how she had been kidnapped by a mercenary and stolen from her own wedding. Eithne found it almost laughable how audaciously Rory got lost in his own lies. Perhaps he even believed them to be true.
But that wasn’t what had upset Ivor. No,thatwas further down the page, and it made Eithne’s heart stand still. The poster advised mercenaries to bring her directly to Rory for a cash reward.
At that moment, Eithne realized that she had not been headed directly to Fife but instead to Castle Kinnear. Back to where it all started. So that was it, then. Rory intended to have her right in the home that he’d destroyed, probably in his sick idea of a gift to her.
Strangely, I’m pleased. Killing him there will give me much more pleasure. He can bleed out on the ground where he murdered me family. The last thing he’ll see is me clan getting its vengeance for good.
“It’s all right,” she said reassuringly. “Dinnae worry so much about me. I’m nae sensitive flower to just be protected and guarded. This is a move meant to shake me, and so we cannae let it. I’ll take him on at Kinnear gladly.”
