She’d never forget the sound the blade made as it whizzed by her ear and landed in the dirt with a thud a few inches from her head.
It was deathly quiet for a long heartbeat. Eventually, her brother’s anguished voice broke the silence. “Oh God, Helen. I’m sorry.” He knelt beside her. “Are you all right?”
But Magnus had pinned her with his gaze, a deadly calm surrounding him. His heart was beating unnaturally slowly—ominously slowly. “Are you all right?”
She was shaking inside but forced herself to answer firmly, “I’m fine.”
He rolled off her and calmly helped her to her feet, but she was not fooled—she could sense the fury emanating from him like the fiery blast of a blacksmith’s bellows. Sailors talked of the eerie calm right before the gates of hell opened wide. This was what it must feel like to be in the eye of the storm, harkening disaster. Her brother didn’t know what was about to hit him.
“Thank God,” Kenneth said.
He started to get to his feet, but Magnus grabbed him by the neck and thrust him up against the closest tree. “You rash, bloody fool! You almost killed her!” He gripped him tighter, cutting off his breath. “I should kill you.”
He seemed intent on doing just that. Kenneth was pulling at his hands, trying to get him to let go. But some kind of supernatural strength had come over Magnus. His arm was like a steel rod; her big, muscular brother couldn’t budge him an inch.
She grabbed at Magnus’s arm, trying to pull it away. “Magnus, please let him go. You’re hurting him.”
His eyes were flat, black with cold rage. For a moment, she didn’t think he heard her. “He almost killed you.”
“He didn’t mean to,” she said softly, as if trying to soothe an angry beast. “It was an accident.”
“Accident? He can’t control his damned temper. He’s undisciplined, rash, and a danger to everyone around him. How can you defend him?”
Tears filled her eyes. “I’m not. But he’s my brother, and I love him. Magnus, please…”
Their eyes held, and slowly she could see the fiery rage begin to dim. He loosened his grip, but gave her brother one last hard shake before releasing him. “If you ever draw your blade around her again, I’ll kill you.”
To her surprise, her brother didn’t threaten him back. For once, Kenneth’s fierce temper seemed chastened.
The two men faced off silently in the darkness, exchanging silent accusations. There was something more going on between them that Helen didn’t understand.
“Did you dishonor her?” Kenneth managed, his breath still ragged and hoarse.
Magnus stiffened, but before he could answer, Helen turned on her brother. “That’s enough, Kenneth! You are my brother, not my father. I’ve had enough of your interference, and I won’t have any more. I did what you asked of me once, but I won’t do it again. I love him. Nothing Magnus could do would dishonor me.”
Her brother ignored her. His eyes burned into Magnus’s. “Did you?” he seethed. “I’m her guardian for this journey; I have a right to know.”
Magnus’s mouth thinned. It was clear he wanted to tell her brother to go to Hades, but equally clear that he recognized Kenneth’s authority even if she did not. “Nay.”
“But I should like him to,” Helen insisted.
They both turned to her at the same time and said, “Helen, shut up!”
Or maybe Kenneth had said it, and Magnus had only looked it, but the shock to her was the same. Perhaps she should be glad that they were always at one another’s throats; if they ever decided to join forces against her she might be in trouble.
“Stay away from her,” Kenneth said in a low voice. “Would you bring more danger down upon her?”
That did it. Helen’s irritation exploded. “Good God, you, too? What is this supposed danger that I know nothing about?”
Magnus’s mouth was white as he and her brother shot silent daggers at one another.
“Aye, why don’t you tell her, MacKay?” Kenneth taunted.
Magnus looked like he was seriously regretting removing his hand from her brother’s throat. “I warned you before, Sutherland. Shut. The. Hell. Up.”
“Not if you won’t keep your hands off her. She deserves to know what she’s getting herself into.” Kenneth turned to her. “Go ahead, ask him. Ask him about the secrets he’s been hiding. Ask him about Gordon. Ask him about the rumors of Bruce’s phantom warriors attacking Threave Castle a few days after your wedding.”
Helen’s eyes widened. Everyone had heard the stories of the impossible feats performed by a small band of seemingly invincible warriors who slipped in and out of the shadows like phantoms. ’Twas said no one could defeat them. She’d enjoyed the stories as much as anyone else, but had never put much thought into the men behind them. Real or imagined, no one knew their identities. But she felt an eerie prickle of premonition whisper behind her neck. “Bruce’s phantoms? What does that have to do with William?”
