Kai gave a brittle smile. “There ye are. Step in, then. Men, ye can wait outside.”
The soldiers glanced at each other, uncertain. “Are ye sure, m’laird?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Kai responded brusquely.
Struan stepped inside, glad to have the soldiers’ painful grip removed from his arms. He rolled up his shirt—the new shirt, the fresh, clean-smelling one that Una had brought for him—to inspect his bruises. Behind him, the door slammed, and he heard a lock click. He imagined that Kai had pocketed the key.
He found himself in a small circular room, dominated by a desk. There were curved bookshelves lining the walls, and a small, circular window let in a small amount of light. There was really only room for two chairs, and Kai shouldered past him to take one, the one behind the desk.
“Sit,” he ordered brusquely.
Struan did so. He noticed that there was a large map of the Highlands unrolled on the desk, with the lands of various clans carefully marked out.
“My sister believes that ye can be useful to us,” Kai said bluntly, catching Struan’s gaze and holding it. “Now it’s time for ye to make good on that promise.”
Struan breathed out slowly. This was it, then. He’d expected right from the beginning to be questioned about his father’s plans. Of course, in his imagination, he’d assumed that he would be in a dungeon, with instruments of torture hovering menacingly around. He’d braced himself for that, not this. Not a quiet, semi-civilized conversation in a comfortable room, without bindings or threats of any kind.
“To start with,” Kai continued, “let’s talk about the convent.”
He tapped the tip of his finger on a particular place on the map, where St. Deborah’s stood, along with the village around it. Struan’s chest clenched, remembering the Abbess. She’d been kind to him, kind when he hadn’t deserved it. She seemed tohave some idea of him becoming more than he was destined to be.
I’m a sword. Nothing more, nothing less. What else can I be? A sword can’t be a hammer, can it? It doesn’t even make a very good knife.
Struan said nothing, and Kai continued.
“We believe that an attack is planned on the convent,” Kai continued, his expression grim. He was watching Struan closely, ready for any signs that he was lying. “We believe that it’s been planned for a while, even before ye were taken.”
A voice echoed in Struan’s head. His father’s voice, of course.
“There’s a wee convent causing more trouble than ye would imagine,he scoffed.They serve as healers and encourage women to… to read and to learn, can ye believe it? Giving them ideas above their station. It’s run by a dangerous woman, one who does not know how to keep her mouth shut. She ought to save her objections for her prayers. We’ll have to deal with her and her followers before they become dangerous.”
Struan was aware of Kai’s eyes on him.
“Aye, I remember him saying something,” he said, voice tight. “He hated the convent. And the Abbess.”
Kai’s face lit up a little. “Well, when is the attack planned?”
Struan was shocked to find that he was relieved to be able to give an honest answer.
“I do not know. He never told me of a planned date before I left.”
Kai gazed at him for a long moment, his eyes searching. Whatever he saw in Struan’s eyes seemed to satisfy him. He nodded.
“Very well. Now, my spies tell me that there is a raid planned on Grahame territory. What can ye tell me about that? The most direct route from Keep Dickson is across the hills. Would Laird Dickson drive his men over the hills?”
Struan sighed. “It would be a risk to do that. It exhausts the men.”
“So he’ll take them the longer, easier way around?”
He shrugged. “That’s what I would do.”
Kai nodded, making a note.
Struan struggled to keep a smile off his face. He knew about the Grahame raid. He had suggested that they take the long way around, to keep the men fresh and energetic, ready to fight. His father had disagreed, and of course he had the final vote. The soldiers were to go over the hills.
But he hadn’t lied to Kai. He had chosen his words carefully.
Half-lies for the wrong questions.
